Part 12 (1/2)

He finished off the rum in one gulp and flung the gla.s.s into the bay, then he strode back into the house for the bottle.

Love? Jesus! He wasn't on intimate terms with that particular emotion. He wasn't even friendly with it. He'd seen what love could do, even the sweetest, most devoted kind of love. His father had committed suicide when Geoff was a teenager, and his mother, unable to bear the loss, had overdosed on sleeping pills shortly after. It was called accidental, but Geoff knew she hadn't wanted to live. She'd adored his father. Geoff had adored them both. His life had never been the same after that.

”Geoff ... ?”

He was about to take a swig from the fifth of rum when he heard her whisper his name. He set the bottle down and turned to the most incredible sight he'd ever seen. Randy was standing in the hall doorway, her nude body bathed in moonlight.

”What are you doing?” he asked.

She wet her lips, looking helpless, irresistible.

”Randy, what-? Why are you doing this?”

”Don't ask me why,” she said, her voice shaking. ”All I know is I need to be with you.”

Geoff's heart went dangerously weak. What was she saying? That she wanted him over Hugh, that she'd chosen him? Her eyes said she needed him urgently, but he knew it had gone beyond the point of casual s.e.x for both of them. He couldn't make love to her and let her go. He shook his head, not wanting this to happen, yet wanting her so badly it was painful.

”Randy, don't do this unless you're sure ... ” He let the sentence trail off, mesmerized by her dazzling, anguished smile and the tears welling in her eyes.

Survival, Dias ...

But the warning went unheeded as she held out her hand to him. He didn't even remember going over to her, but he must have, because a moment later they were hand in hand, walking slowly toward the bungalow's bedroom. He knew she must be feeling the same disorientation, the same crazy magic he was. They were moving as though in a daze, both of them, a dream all of their own, not willing to speak or even to think, not willing to let anything intrude.

She touched his face as they reached the bedroom, a tremor in her fingers, and Geoff felt himself hardening. The energy slamming through his groin brought him so much pleasure, he wanted to groan. A touch and he was gone. One innocent touch! He thought immediately of the other time she'd aroused him and sent him over the edge. But he couldn't let her do that to him this time. He needed to be in control.

Her hand fluttered down his neck to his chest, a gypsy bride trying to steal his heart, his soul. She started to tug at his T-s.h.i.+rt, but he stopped her, capturing her hand in the hollow of his breastbone, pressing it against the riot of excitement inside him.

The room streamed with moonlight. It s.h.i.+mmered silver through her ebony hair and caught the sparkle of emotion in her eyes. Fear or desire? He couldn't tell. But her body seemed to glow with antic.i.p.ation, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and hipbones s.h.i.+vering, iridescent.

”How come I'm the only one naked?” she asked shakily.

”Because I want it that way,” he told her.

”Why? Aren't we going to-”

”Oh, yes,” he promised roughly, imprisoning her hand as he reached down to unzip his pants. ”We're going to. We're going to rock this house. We're going to rock Rio. You and I are going to be s.e.xier than Carnaval, hotter and sweeter than cachaca.”

”Then why can't I undress you?”

He couldn't believe she didn't know. She couldn't be that innocent. She had to be aware of the effect she had on him. He was a hopeless case, reduced to animal instincts by the sound of her voice, the willful tilt of her chin, the hot little flare of her nostrils. One touch of her hand and he was gone.

Maybe a little object lesson was in order, he decided.

He reached in and freed himself from the confines of his fly, shuddering at the feel of so much energy springing free. He was all heat and muscle-one hardened, rampant muscle.

”Because of this,” he said, guiding her hand to his groin. Her fingers fluttered over him so exquisitely, he had to pull them away. But her gasp brought him soaring pleasure.

”Now do you see why I want you naked?” he said, kissing the same fingertips that had just driven him wild, rubbing them against his lips. ”I want the edge this time, baby. I want some control.”

”No-you want me out of control, crazy for you ... ” Her voice softened on a throaty groan, and she barely got the next words out. ” ... wet for you.”

He kissed her knuckles, inadvertently biting down on them as his desire became pain. ”This is survival, Randy. I've got so much feeling raging inside me. It could kill me if I let it.”

She looked up at him, her eyes going liquid, the dark irises melting into pools of heat. ”Let it, Geoff,” she said softly, wetting her lips with her tongue, seducing him with her urgent, husky voice. ”Let it kill you, just a little.”

She touched him with her free hand, stroking him before he could stop her. ”Let me,” she murmured, bending as if to take him into her mouth.

He seized her by the arms and brought her back up. ”No way, sweetness,” he said huskily. ”You're not getting near that stick of dynamite. We'd both explode.” He lifted her to him and kissed her, caressing her lips lightly, tautly, controlling the tripwire tension he felt. ”Now stand up, Randy,” he murmured, ”like a good girl. And open your legs.”

”Me?”

”Yes, you. Definitely you.”

”Like this? Standing up?”

”Just like this.”

Randy breathed out a s.h.i.+vering sound as she stared into his eyes. He was asking her to do something unspeakably erotic, and surrendering that much control to him frightened her. Anxiety leaped inside her as she realized how vulnerable she would be, how exposed.

”Do it, baby,” he said gently.

She moved her legs apart, and a soft moan slipped from her lips as he stepped back to look at her. His gaze drifted from her swollen b.r.e.a.s.t.s to the juncture of her thighs, and Randy felt herself beginning to shudder, to ache inside. Impelled by some forbidden impulse, she moved her legs wider and waited for that touch, that deeper, incredibly private touch.

His exhalation was the only sound in the room.

It seemed a lifetime before he came to stand before her. And even then he surprised her, startling a moan out of her as he ran his hands slowly up her naked thighs. It wasn't what she expected, any more than she expected him to cup her b.u.t.tocks and stare into her eyes. ”I've got this terrible thirst,” he said at last, bending to take her breast into his mouth. His lips pulled irresistibly at her nipple, sipping and tugging, drinking her in. Randy arched against him, her legs spread wide, her sharp moans mingling with his.

He left her b.r.e.a.s.t.s sweetly aching and purled down her body with the soft friction of sand-washed silk. She tightened instinctively as he trailed kisses over her belly and down each thigh, avoiding the heartbeat of her need, the place where she throbbed for him. And just when she thought he would never touch her there, never kiss her there, he did.

”Oh, G.o.d,” she breathed as he pressed his lips into the curly dark hair that crowned her thighs. A hot flush of awareness spread through her as he began to discover her secrets with his lips and his tongue. Her stomach clutched with the raw, sweet pleasure of it, and she moved against him, rhythmically, wantonly, forgetting to be ashamed.

She gasped tightly, arching up when he came upon the place where her nerves were thrumming with electricity. It was the most intense pleasure she'd ever known. It was glorious, soaring toward a peak, but never going over, hovering, hovering.

”You're sweet, Randy,” he said, bracing her thighs with his hands. ”Sweeter than cachaca.”

But Randy couldn't respond. She was too stunned, too overcome with stimulation. Every sense was heightened. She could feel his golden mane of hair caressing her skin, tickling her nerves, and his tongue sliding against the very center of her being. She could feel it all at once, rus.h.i.+ng at her like a sensory storm, and her body didn't know how to respond. Her legs were vibrating wildly, unable to hold her up.

”Geoff, please,” she groaned.

She sagged against him, tangling her hands in his hair, crazy for things she couldn't bring herself to verbalize. She felt him shudder and reach for her, pulling her down to the floor with him. She thought he was going to make love to her right there, but the next thing she knew, he was lifting her in his arms, carrying her to the bed, kissing her, lowering his weight onto her.

She was already climaxing wildly when he entered her.

Geoff pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. He was fighting to hold back his own release as he penetrated her trembling body, thrusting deeply and uncontrollably that first time, that first enflamed time.

”Randy, sweetness,” he murmured, astonished at the way her cries cut through him, at the way her muscles clutched at him. He'd had s.e.x more times than he could count, and with more women than he cared to remember, but everything he'd come to know and believe about the experience was negated the moment he impaled himself in her tender, pulsing flesh. He felt like a virgin. He was a virgin. He'd never had s.e.x before, not with a woman he loved. Jesus, the thought of it staggered him.