Part 11 (1/2)

”Better,” he murmured.

”Yes.”

Her dress had fallen open at some point. The realization that the only thing separating her from him was the thin material of her bra made her s.h.i.+ver. The need for caution warred with the desperate need snapping and coiling inside her. His fingers fumbled with the clasp. His curse burned through the air when he couldn't get to the flesh inside. She couldn't bring herself to help him, but, oh, how she wanted him to touch her there.

An instant later the clasp sprang. She s.h.i.+vered as cool air enveloped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It had been so long since she'd been touched like this, she'd forgotten how powerful it could be.

”I want to fill my hands with you,” he whispered.

She cried out when he cupped her, gasped his name when he trapped her sensitized nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. The last of her control tumbled away when he bent his head and took the sensitive tip into his mouth.

Closing her eyes against the hot burst of ecstasy, she arched, needing in a way she'd never needed before, wanting with a desperation she hadn't known was inside her. Her vision ebbed and flowed when he flicked her nipple with his tongue.

”Drew...”

”Let me,” he said, taking the taut peak between his teeth and nipping gently.

Pleasure arced like a thousand volts of electricity through her body. Alison writhed, heard herself groan. Insanity descended and she gave it free rein. Fever grew within her, a fire burning out of control. He suckled and nibbled and teased until she thought she would explode. She could feel the hot pulse of wetness between her legs. He hadn't even touched her there and she felt on the verge of o.r.g.a.s.m. The power of it left her incredulous and filled with awe that he could do this to her.

When he raised his head and gazed into her eyes, she knew she was lost. To the moment. To him.

”You asked me what I was afraid of,” he said softly.

”This,” she whispered.

”You,” he said and kissed her.

Bracing her against the door, he lifted her, parted her thighs and quickly stepped between them. She heard fabric rip, realized her dress had torn at the slit. She didn't care.

”Wrap yourself around me,” he whispered. ”Now.”

Aware only of him, of his words, the feel of him against her and the need rampaging through her, she locked her legs around his hips, starkly aware that nothing but a sc.r.a.p of wet silk separated them. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection against her. Saying her name, he moved against her. Need sang through her body, so urgent she wanted to cry out. Arousal flowed like lava in her blood, churning and heating until she thought it would burn her alive.

She'd long since stopped thinking about consequences. The pleasure he gave her had silenced the tiny voice of reason in her head. She had no idea where this would lead them. If he would hurt her. Or if this went any further, if she would somehow end up hurting him.

As he kissed her long and hard and deep, she could only hold on for dear life and trust that he would see them through.

Drew poured four years of wanting and grief and guilt into kissing Alison. He touched her, awed by the softness of her flesh in his hands. Her beauty awed him. Her responsiveness humbled him, and his need for her soared to a fever pitch. In the backwaters of his mind, he wondered how she could want him. How she could want the man who had caused her husband's death.

He fought the descent of guilt. Fought it with all his might, using the pleasure of holding her, of kissing her as a s.h.i.+eld against the pain.

It wasn't enough.

Vaguely he was aware of her crying out his name as he kissed her, as his body moved against hers. He worked hard to pull himself back. But wanting her was like a sweet madness that beckoned like a siren drawing a hapless sailor onto treacherous rocks. He held her against the door, keenly aware that her legs were wrapped around his hips.

The knowledge that she wanted this devastated him. That she was wet and hot and open overwhelmed him with desire for her. All he had to do was move the thin sc.r.a.p of material aside and he could have her. Have the woman he'd wanted for so long that the need had become a part of him.

Kissing her was like breathing and he felt as if he would die if he stopped. He fed on her like a man deprived of life-giving oxygen. Sliding his hand along her thigh, he moved the elastic of her panties aside. She stiffened slightly, but he didn't stop and dipped two fingers into the wet heat at her center.

She went rigid. A mewling sound escaped her, followed by his name on a sigh. ”Drew...”

”Easy. Let me touch you.”

”This is...”

”This is not enough.”

”Too much...”

”I want more.” He stroked her, firmly and deeply and she moved tentatively against him, taking his fingers more deeply into the most intimate part of her.

”Drew...”

He closed his eyes against the raw intimacy of the moment, knowing fully that it was precious and rare and may never happen again. Her body began to contract. He whispered her name, stroking her, holding her as she writhed and cried out his name.

”I'm falling,” she said.

”I've got you,” he whispered. ”I won't let you fall.”

Her arms tightened around him. Her body jolted. He heard his name on her lips. She peaked, and he felt her release as if it were his own.

”Alison,” he whispered.

The beauty of the moment shook him. That she would give him such a gift amazed him. A moment later the high-wire tension left her body and she sagged against him, pressing her cheek to his. Drew held her. He kissed her temple, her cheek, the tip of her nose, her mouth. Always her mouth. He would never get enough of her mouth.

He didn't want to stop. He never wanted to stop when it came to Alison. What they'd shared was pure magic. But he knew it would make their relations.h.i.+p infinitely more complex. Maybe even impossible to maintain. But he'd gotten a taste of her, and he still wanted her so badly that he found himself willing to betray the best friend he'd ever had.

Take care...Alison and Kevin...

Rick's words came to him out of nowhere and with the force of a physical blow. The pain jolted him. The ensuing guilt devastated him. Suddenly he was aware of Alison against him. That his hands were on her body, inside her body. That he was aroused and on the verge of doing something irrevocable. Something he would never forgive himself for.

Easing away from her, he steadied her against the door and took a step back. Her eyes met his. Within their vivid blue depths, he saw everything he had feared for four long years. He saw desire. Tenderness. Respect. Caring. Emotions he'd longed to see, but would never be able to accept or reciprocate.

”Alison,” he whispered. ”I'm sorry.”

Her mouth was wet and chafed from his whiskers. The b.u.t.tons of her dress were undone and one side lay open, exposing the curve of her breast and the dark peak of her nipple. He wanted to replace the material and cover her, but he didn't dare touch. He knew there was a very good possibility that if he did he wouldn't stop.

He was keenly aware of her wetness on his fingertips. That she looked as if she'd just been thoroughly ravaged. They were both breathing as if they'd run a ten-mile marathon. Her pupils were dilated, nearly hiding the vivid blue of her irises. Her face was flushed and beads of sweat had broken out on her forehead.

At that moment, she was shatteringly beautiful, and he wanted her as he had never wanted another woman. It was going to kill him to walk away from her. But he knew he didn't have a choice.

”I have to go,” he said.

She blinked, then glanced down at her unb.u.t.toned dress and clutched the fabric together. ”Drew-”