Page 107 of You'll Find Out
The familiar sound of Brig’s voice brought Becca back to the present. She could feel his heartbeat pounding solidly against her chest. His breath fanned her hair. “Nothing,” she lied. She was anxious to escape from her fears and wanted nothing more than the security of Brig’s strong arms to support her.
“You’re sure?” He was doubtful, and pulled his head away from hers so that he could look into her eyes.
“Oh, Brig—just for once, let’s not let the past come between us.”
“I’ve been waiting for an invitation like that all afternoon,” he replied with a crooked smile.
With the quickness of a cat, he scooped her off the floor and cradled her gently against him before turning toward the stairs.
“You can argue with me all night long, Ms. Peters,” he stated, as he strode slowly up the staircase. “But youareincredible, and beautiful, and enchanting, and . . .”
“And I wouldn’t dare argue with you,” she admitted with a smile. “I love every minute of this.”
“Then let me show you exactly how I feel about you.”
“I can’t wait . . .”
Chapter 10
Brig was silent as he carried Becca into the bedroom. She was hesitant to say anything for fear it might break the gentle peace that had settled quietly between them. Instead she listened to the movement of the restless wind as it passed through the brittle branches of the oak trees near the house. Above the wind she could hear the reassuring sound of Brig’s steady heartbeat.
Still carrying her lithely, he crossed the room and set her on her feet near the edge of the bed. His eyes never left hers as he slowly slid the top button of her blouse through the buttonhole. The collar opened. Brig gently touched the hollow of her throat with his index finger. Becca shivered at his touch while he stroked the delicate bone structure. She felt her pulse jump.
Knowing the depth of her response, he concentrated on the next button, slowly parting the blouse to expose the skin below her throat, and when the blouse finally opened, he gently pushed it off her shoulders. Her skin quivered as his finger slowly made a path from her neck to the clasp of her bra. Without moving his eyes from her face he opened the bra and slid it off her shoulders, allowing her breasts to become unbound.
Becca didn’t move. She heard her shallow breathing and felt the rapid beat of her heart as she let his hands work their magic on her skin. She expected him to caress a breast; she yearned for him to take one of the aching nipples in his hands and softly massage the bittersweet agony. He didn’t. She felt his hands move between her breasts to flatten against her abdomen. The tips of his fingers slid invitingly below the waistband of her jeans. Involuntarily, she sucked in her breath in order to make it easier for him to come to her.
The button was released. The zipper lowered. Her jeans were pushed over her hips to fall at her feet. She was standing nearly naked in the stormy night, with only the fragile barrier of her panties keeping her from being nude. A breeze from the partially opened window lifted her golden hair from her face and contributed to the hardening of her nipples. But it wasn’t the wind that made her warm inside, nor was it the impatience of the brewing storm that electrified her nerve endings. It was the passion in the gray eyes of the man undressing her that persuaded her blood to run in heated rivulets through her body.
“Undress me,” he whispered, refusing to give in to the urgent longings of his body. He felt the thrill of desire rising in him, but he fought against it, preferring to stretch the torment of unfulfilled passion to the limit.
She obeyed his command by silently moving her hands under his sweater and pushing it over his head. He had to reaffirm his resolve as he looked at her, standing before him with her arms stretched overhead as the sweater passed over his hands. Her breasts fell forward, their dark tips brushing against his abdomen. He gritted his teeth against the overpowering urge to kick off his jeans and take her in a frantic union of flesh that would be as savage as it was delicious. Rather than give in to his male urge to conquer and dominate, he waited. Every muscle tensed with his restraint, but the pain was worth the prize. He had to swallow when her fingers touched him lightly as they worked with the belt buckle and finally dropped his pants to the floor. He felt the trickle of sweat begin to run down his spine, though the room was cold. Her eyes had clouded with the same passion controlling his body.
She groaned as he kneeled and softly kissed her abdomen. Her weight fell against him and she trembled at his touch when he slipped the lacy underwear down her thighs and over her calves. His fingers ran up the inside of her leg as he raised himself to his full height; he gathered her into his arms before pressing against her and forcing her onto the bed with the weight of his body.
“I want to make love to you,” he whispered into her hair. “I want to make love to you and never stop.”
“Then do, Brig, please make love to me.” Her eyes reached for his in the darkness, promising vows she couldn’t possibly keep.
He studied her face, lost in the complex beauty of a woman who was intelligent and kind, strong yet vulnerable, wise though young. How could he have ever doubted her? Why had he been such a fool as to cast away six years they could have shared together?
He lowered his head and his lips pressed against hers with all of the pain and torment warring within him. He took her face in his hands as if he had to be sure that she wouldn’t disappear. Her lips parted willingly and his tongue found the delicious pleasures of her moist mouth. He groaned in surrender when her fingers dug into the solid muscles of his back.
“These last few weeks have been torturous,” he confided when he finally lifted his head. “I tried to stay away—Lord knows, I tried, but I couldn’t. You’re just too damned mystifying and I can’t seem to get enough of you.”
“I hope you never can,” she admitted, but before she could say anything else, his fingers caressed her breast, cupping it in his palm, feeling the soft, malleable weight before taking it gently in his mouth. She sighed with the pleasure he evoked as he stroked and suckled the nipple with his tongue and lips. The pressure of his mouth made her arch against him, hoping to fill the space between his lips with her breast. She was satisfied in the knowledge that the pleasure she was receiving was given back in kind.
She wound her fingers in his hair, cradling his face against her as if giving comfort. His hands slid lower as did his lips. Her blood pounded in her eardrums as his tongue leisurely rimmed her navel while his hands parted her legs and massaged her buttocks. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered against her silky skin. “I want you . . .”
“Then love me, Brig,” she pleaded, “love me.” Her needs were more than physical. Even though her body longed for all of him, it was her heart and her mind that had to have him. Her soul was crying for him to be one with her and share a lifetime together.
He moved over her, and she could feel each of his strong hard muscles against her own. Her breasts flattened with the weight of him, the coiling desire deep within her beginning to unwind in expectation. “I want you, Brig. I want you more than I ever have,” she admitted roughly.
He shifted, parting her legs with his own. Her feet curled against his calves and rubbed against the hair on his legs as he became one with her. His lips claimed hers as their bodies joined and she felt the pulse of his blood when he started his unhurried movements of union. Her body responded, pushing against his in the heated tide of sexual fulfillment. Their tongues danced and joined until he pulled his head away from hers and stared into the depths of her eyes as if he were looking for her soul.
The coupling became stronger, their bodies surging together as one. She tasted the salt of his sweat on her tongue and heard the rapid beating of his heart. She groaned in contentment as the tempo increased. His eyes remained open, watching her reaction, and when he felt her quaking shudder of release and saw the glimmer of satisfaction in her velvet green eyes, he let go of the bonds he had placed upon himself and let his passion consume him in one violent burst of liquid fire. He groaned as he sagged against her, letting his weight press her into the mattress.
“Oh, God, Rebecca,” he murmured. “Idolove you.” His fingers twined in her hair and his breathing slowed. “You are incredible—whether you believe it or not.”
