Part 8 (1/2)
When she stopped, he mopped her eyes with a tissue. Her cheek was against his broad, shuddering chest, nestled against the thick hair, and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were lying soft against his stomach. She s.h.i.+vered at the intimacy of it because she didn't have a st.i.tch on.
”You're my wife,” he whispered when he saw her embarra.s.sment. ”It's all right if I see you without your clothes.”
She curled closer. ”Yes, I guess it is. It's just...new.”
”My G.o.d, yes, I know.”
There was an unmistakable note in his voice. She looked up, giving him a sudden and total view of her pretty b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He had to drag his eyes back up to hers.
”My virgin bride,” he whispered huskily. His fingers touched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s hesitantly, with something like reverence. ”Oh, Shelby. Shelby!”
”I...Dr. Sims made me have some minor surgery, but he muttered about it when I wouldn't let him do a proper job,” she said, hiding her eyes from him. ”I guess it wasn't quite enough...” Her face went red.
”Why wouldn't you let him do it properly?”
”So that I could prove that I hadn't slept with Tom,” she said simply.
”You little fool!” He tilted her eyes up to his. ”If I hadn't stopped upstairs, or if I'd ever lost my head with you... G.o.d, it doesn't even bear thinking about!”
She bit her lip, staring at his broad chest with its thick pelt of hair. ”Justin...it would have stopped hurting,” she began shyly.
”Like h.e.l.l it would.” He leaned back with a rough sigh. ”I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, honey, but you're going to have to go back and have the rest of that surgery.”
”But...”
He tilted her eyes up to his. ”A little pain is one thing, but you've got one h.e.l.l of a lot of proof there,” he said curtly. He s.h.i.+fted restlessly, noting her embarra.s.sment and feeling just a little of his own at trying to explain things to her. He drew her head against his chest and bent to brush his mouth softly over hers. ”Put your clothes back on while I top off your brandy snifter. The feel of you is making me hurt.”
He got up and put her down on the sofa with only a cursory glance. While she fumbled her way back into her pajamas, he poured brandy into her gla.s.s and whiskey into his, and then went searching for a cigarette.
She knew her face was flaming. She'd never imagined that intimacy was so...intimate. But along with the shyness was a kind of excitement that went along with her new discoveries of Justin. He didn't lose control and go wild and hurt her. He was slow and patient and considerate. That made her blush even more.
”Who told you that men go nuts and hurt women when they make love?” he asked conversationally. ”Because you seemed to think that's what was going to happen upstairs.”
She took the brandy snifter and watched him go back to the armchair, where he sat and pulled up an ashtray. ”You did,” she said hesitantly. ”The night we got engaged, and you lost control.”
His eyebrows shot up. ”Did I lose it that badly?”
”I thought so.” She studied the snifter. ”I knew I had this problem, you see, and I'd already been told about the surgery I'd have to have before my first time.” She shrugged. ”I've been terrified of it ever since my fifteenth birthday, when the doctor examined me for a female dysfunction. Some girls have a little discomfort, but he told me it would be unbearable if I didn't have the surgery. Then when you came on so strong, and I didn't think I could stop you...”
”You didn't tell me any of this,” he said quietly.
”How could I?” She sighed miserably. ”Oh, Justin, I'm twenty-seven and as green as a preadolescent! I can't even talk about it now without blus.h.i.+ng!”
”I thought you were repulsed by me,” he said, his voice deep with remembered pain. ”I never dreamed... And then you told me what you did about Wheelor, and my ego shattered.” His broad shoulders rose and fell. ”I've been a lot rougher with you than I ever would have been if I'd known the truth. It hurt so d.a.m.ned bad to think that you'd been with someone else, and when you flinched away, it made me sick.”
”At least now you know why I flinched away,” she said with a sigh.
He took a draw from the cigarette. ”I want you d.a.m.ned bad,” he said without preamble.
She lowered her eyes to the carpet. ”I want you, too.”
”Then let's do something about it. Go see Dr. Sims. Have the surgery. Let's have a real marriage. The kind where two people sleep together, share together, make babies together.”
Her face flamed, but she looked up. ”You really do want children, don't you?”
”I want them with you,” he said simply. ”I never wanted them with any other woman.”
”Then I won't need to...to take anything.”
He smiled slowly. ”No.”
She got up, nervous and shy all over again. ”I guess it wouldn't be a good idea for us to sleep together?” she asked without realizing how wistful she sounded.
He got up, drawing her eyes as he towered over her. ”Maybe it wouldn't, but we're going to. Even if we can't make love, I can hold you.”
Her breath sighed out. ”Justin, I'm sorry for so many things.”
”So am I, but we can't go back.” He bent and brushed a gentle kiss across her mouth. ”We'll take it one day at a time. I won't rush you again.”
She smiled at him. ”Thank you.”
He smiled back, but he didn't say anything. She watched him put everything away before he came back to her, turning out the light. He still had his cigarette in hand as they went upstairs together.
”Are you all right?” he asked her when they were in bed, and she was curled up beside him. ”I didn't hurt you badly?”
”No,” she whispered in the concealing darkness.
”I didn't frighten you, either?” he persisted, as if it mattered.
”Not at all,” she a.s.sured him, going closer. He was warm and muscular and she loved the feel of him against her. ”Not once.” She nuzzled her cheek against him. ”You're very tender.”
”That's how lovemaking should be,” he said quietly. ”But I'm rusty, Mrs. Ballenger. I've been celibate for quite a while.”
She held her breath. ”A few months, you mean?”
”Um, not quite.” He brushed his mouth over her forehead. ”For about six years, Shelby.”
She caught her breath. ”My gos.h.!.+ I didn't dream...!”
”It's a good thing,” he murmured. ”I guess you'd have run from me screaming if you'd known, thinking that a man who'd gone hungry that long would be ravenous and uncontrollable.”
”But you weren't.”
”You needed tenderness, so that's what you got. You won't always get it after we've had each other a few times,” he said flatly. ”I don't like it that way all the time.”
The mind boggled at what he did like and she realized that he'd been curbing his instincts, holding back to make things easier for her. ”Justin...”