Midnight Fantasies(7)

By: Vicki Lewis Thompson


He began to blaze a deliberate trail through her curls and her breathing quickened even more. Because he was a man who’d learned how to interpret every subtle signal a woman gave him, he listened carefully to the tempo of her breath. He knew when she paused that she was having second thoughts.

Even though she obviously longed for the intimate touch of his mouth, they were strangers. Poised on the brink of this daring adventure, she could be losing her nerve.

He didn’t want that to happen. But she’d said she wanted to be in charge. Maybe she knew he could press his advantage and take the control away from her. He could. Perhaps she’d thank him for it later.

If he knew her better, he might take that chance. But he didn’t really know her at all, and this moment of decision rightly belonged to her. He hesitated, the womanly scent of her beckoning him, while he let her choose.

With a moan that sounded like surrender, she leaned back on her braced hands and lifted her hips.

“Oh, Sarah. My sweet Sarah.” Then he touched his tongue to that precious cleft. Ambrosia. He grew dizzy from excitement as he tasted and teased, nibbled and licked, explored new territory. Then he settled in with a more steady rhythm, coaxing her, reveling in the way she opened to him. Gradually her needy cries filled the cave and blended with the steady beat of the rain.

He’d been told he did this well, but all thought of technique deserted him in the midst of this incredible, mysterious moment. Instinct was his only guide, instinct and the changing patterns of her breathing. Now he would always associate the scent of the rain with the scent of this woman, the sound of the raindrops with her soft pleas begging for release.

When he gave it, he nearly tumbled over the brink himself. But he didn’t. He maintained enough sanity to wait and see what this woman had in mind for an encore.

Her words of gratitude spilled out between labored breaths as she sank back on her heels and leaned against the rock wall.

He ran his tongue over his lips. Delicious. He was ready to do it all again. Or maybe…maybe she would suggest that turnabout was fair play. He could deal with that.

Her breathing slowed, and the cave grew silent and thick with the passion they’d shared, the passion that still existed between them. Gradually he became aware that the rain had stopped.

She swallowed. “I need to leave, now.”

“Leave?” Surely she wasn’t planning to abandon him at a time like this, when he was full, pulsing, desperate?

“Yes, I have to go.” She cleared her throat. “The rain’s stopped, so there’s no reason to stay in the cave anymore.”

“But…” He found he couldn’t ask her for what he needed. He didn’t know her well enough, and for the first time in years, he was afraid of being rejected.

“Ah. Would you like some relief, yourself?”

Well, duh. He snorted in frustration. “It crossed my mind.”

“I wish I could help you, but I really must go. I’ll need my clothes. I think you’re kneeling on them.”

He rose to a crouch and fumbled with the tangled clothes on the cave floor. He had his pride, and he’d be damned if he’d beg her to help him out. No, ma’am. If she couldn’t freely give, as he had, then to hell with—

“I’d like to repay your generosity,” she said. “Would you like to meet again?”

Oh, God, yes. “Maybe.” He handed over her clothes.

“I thought this was exciting, not being able to see each other, yet becoming very intimate. Did you think so, too?”

“It had its moments.” Moments he would never, ever forget.

“I have an idea how we can keep the excitement going.”

“Is that right?” He could barely make out her shadowy figure in the gloom as she pulled her T-shirt over her head. How he ached. He would ache for a week if she didn’t—

“You could come over tomorrow night after dark,” she said.

“Possibly.” Tomorrow night was an eternity away. But he wouldn’t ask for tonight, instead. He had his standards.

“I’ll leave a blindfold hanging on the doorknob for you.”

“Hmm.” A blindfold. Hot damn. More fun and games. That could be worth waiting for. And he’d thought he couldn’t be more aroused. Whew. The woman knew what buttons to push on this ol’ boy.

“I realize you didn’t get everything you might have wanted this time,” she said in that low, sexy voice of hers. “But if you’ll come by and put on the blindfold before you walk in, I’ll even the score.”

“I’d like that.” Then he had an unwelcome thought. “Listen, you’re not plug-ugly, are you? Or horribly scarred from some accident?”