Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 26

She parted her lips to reply, but no words came out. Her mouth had gone completely dry, and she still felt as if she was floating somewhere outside the planet's atmosphere.

"Good," he murmured in a low, seductive voice. "Now I have an even better idea."

Catching her behind the knees, he lifted her legs to wrap behind his waist. She felt the firm, persistent prodding of his erection at the opening of her womanhood, and for a moment it struck her that she should be afraid. After all, they hadn't actually done the deed yet, despite the liberties he'd just taken with her body.

But she wanted this. She wanted him. And everything he did to her only made her want him more.

If there was pain or discomfort from the actual act, she would deal with it. It couldn't last that long, anyway.

And then he was inside her, nudging forward, the wide, hot pressure of him stretching her sensitive inner pa.s.sageway. He moved slowly, but she still caught her breath, her body arching and then remaining rigid until he was lodged fully between her thighs.

"Relax, Gwen," Ethan whispered softly.

He pushed the hair back from her damp brow and she opened her eyes, not even realizing she'd had them clamped tightly closed.

It didn't hurt. She wasn't sure why she'd been expecting it to...unless it was all the stories she'd heard about women losing their virginity. Stories involving tears and blood.

But she wasn't crying. She didn't think she was bleeding, either. And she wasn't in pain, she only felt...full. Filled, for the very first time in her life, with an intimate part of Ethan.

"Better now?" he asked, watching her intently.

"Yes." How could she not be when he was being so gentle and accommodating? She'd heard stories, about men who rushed and groped and fumbled, and didn't much care whether their partners were enjoying themselves or not.

Luckily, Ethan wasn't at all like that. He was slow and patient and attentive, always concerned about her pleasure and comfort. Yes, she could have done much, much worse.

Suddenly, keeping still beneath him seemed almost unbearable. She needed to move, needed him to move inside her and ease the terrible ache that was throbbing low in her belly.

Raking her nails down the slick slope of his back, she hiked her knees even higher on his hips and crossed her ankles, locking him in place against the cradle of her pelvis.

With a groan, he raised up on his forearms and began to stroke. Forward, then back. Up a little, then down, causing a delicious friction between their bodies.

Heat and moisture built as he increased his rhythm, and Gwen found herself rocking her hips, lifting to meet each powerful thrust. Her head dug into the mattress as Ethan kissed her ear, the pulse in her neck, the crest of her breast. Her breathing came in tandem with the beating of her heart and she heard the mewling sounds she was making at the back of her throat.

With one hand, he toyed with the nipple he'd already brought to sharp arousal. But when his other hand slipped into the wet heat of her feminine folds to tease the tiny bud of her desire, skyrockets went off in her bloodstream, and her mouth opened to scream his name.

Ethan continued to thrust, drawing her hips up to meet each pounding of pleasure until he, too, stiffened above her and came on a loud groan.

Little by little, her heartbeat slowed and returned to normal. Ethan's heavy, p.r.o.ne body rested atop her, pressing her into the mattress, but she liked it. She liked the feel of his arms and legs tangled with her own, his chest rising and falling against her as he dragged air into his deprived lungs, his slightly stubbled jaw rubbing the side of her face as he turned his head to look at her.

"That was amazing," he said, still somewhat breathless. "We'll definitely be doing that again-just as soon as I recover."

A wide grin split her face. She couldn't wait to make love with him again, but even more, it delighted her to know he'd enjoyed their encounter as much as she had. And he must have, if he was already antic.i.p.ating a repeat performance.

Before she lost her nerve, she grabbed him by the ears, lifted her head and kissed him smack on the lips.

"Thank you," she said. For taking my virginity...for being my first...for making me feel so wonderful, like a mature, sensual woman.

He stared at her for a long, silent moment, and then his lips quirked in an answering smile. "It was my pleasure, believe me."

Rotating his hips, he groaned as she bit her lip and tipped her own pelvis to meet him.

"And in a minute, it will be my pleasure again."

Oh, she didn't doubt it for a minute. Already he began to swell within her.

How did he do it? How did he turn her from a timid introvert to a wanton extrovert? The transformation might not last once she left his bed, but for now she was the wild, uninhibited soul she'd always dreamed of being.

The next time Gwen opened her eyes, early-morning sunlight streamed across the room. At first, she suffered a sense of panicked confusion at the strangeness of her surroundings and the weight of another body pressing against her side.

And then it all came rushing back. Her birthday, the makeover, the club...Ethan.

A flush of heat stained her cheeks at the memory of what they'd done together. Even so, her heart thrilled at the knowledge that she could finally shed the moniker of boring, mousy, virgin librarian.

Two of those adjectives might still be true, but the third definitely was not. Not after last night.

Slipping out from under the warm sheet and even warmer arm Ethan had draped across her stomach, she shimmied from the bed and began a silent but frantic search for her clothes. She stepped into her panties and zipped up her dress, but stuffed as much of the bra and stockings into her beaded clutch as would fit rather than take the time to get completely redressed.

Ethan was still sound asleep, and for a moment Gwen considered climbing back into bed so she could be there when he woke up.

But then what? They might make love again-the thought caused her knees to weaken-but eventually he would want to get up and have breakfast and probably...talk.

She'd achieved her goal last night with a couple of drinks in her system and not much conversation. She was very much afraid she'd reverted to her frumpy, unexciting self sometime before morning, like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight.

Trying to pretend she was experienced in the bright light of day was too much for her and she worried Ethan would immediately see through her facade. And if he found out who she really was, then the fantasy she'd been allowed to live for a few short hours would disappear, replaced with the look of shock and disappointment that was sure to fill his face.

No, better for her to leave now, before he awoke and she turned back into a frog-in his eyes, at least.

Stiletto heels dangling from her fingertips, she tiptoed down the hall, her movements silenced by the deep pile carpeting. When she spotted a small notepad next to the phone on the kitchen counter, she hesitated and then decided to scrawl a short note for Ethan to find when he woke up.

Leaving the slip of paper where he'd be most likely to see it, she quietly snicked open both the chain and dead bolt on the front door, and sneaked away.

With a wide yawn, Ethan stretched and came slowly awake.

G.o.d, he felt good. It had been a long time since he'd woken up feeling so refreshed.

Probably had something to do with Gwen wearing him out.

The corners of his mouth curved upward as he remembered the warm flush of her petal-soft skin, the awe in her eyes, and all the things they'd done throughout the night.

As a rule, he didn't let women sleep in his bed. He'd bring them home with him, but as soon as they were finished, he would see them home or see them back to the club.

But last night, with Gwen...The thought of asking her to leave had never entered his mind. If anything, he'd been ready to invent reasons for her to stay if she even tried to run off. And after their second or third bout of mind-blowing ecstasy, he'd been more than content to drift off with her tucked securely in his arms.

Maybe he'd be lucky enough to interest her in another round this morning.

He ran his palm across the mattress, letting his eyes drift open as he waited for his fingers to tangle through her soft auburn hair or brush against the swell of one of her small, pert b.r.e.a.s.t.s. But she wasn't there.

He blinked to clear his vision and searched the bed, only to realize she was no longer beside him. Sitting up, he saw the clothes he'd discarded last night lying haphazardly on the floor and tossed over the arm of a chair, but Gwen's garments were missing.

He smiled. Obviously she'd woken up before he had and gone into the kitchen in search of breakfast. His own stomach was rumbling, telling him that wasn't such a bad idea.

Rolling to his feet, he walked naked to the glossy black bureau, removed a pair of paisley satin pajama bottoms, and stepped into them. The elastic waistband snapped into place low on his hips as he padded barefoot out of the bedroom toward the living and kitchen areas.

He paused at the end of the short hallway, listening for signs of Gwen's presence. The opening and closing of a cupboard door, the sc.r.a.pe of utensils on china, the pop of the toaster. But he was met with an almost eerie silence. If she was here, she was being as quiet as a ghost.

But she was gone.

After his search of the apartment, he returned to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

It was a shame Gwen hadn't stuck around; they might have had some fun this morning. He could have taken her out for breakfast or regaled her with his cooking skills by whipping up one of his famous western omelets. Not to mention luring her back to the bedroom.

When he noticed the sheet of paper lying on the countertop, a stab of regret went through him, followed swiftly by annoyance.

Thanks for making my birthday special.

She hadn't even signed the note.

Ethan cursed as he crumpled the paper in his fist and threw it in the general direction of the trash can. It bounced off the wall and rolled under the cabinet.

Why was this bothering him so much? Normally he was glad to wake up to an empty apartment, relieved not to have to muddle through awkward niceties.

But she could have said good-bye in person. At the very least she could have given him her phone number or told him where she lived. How was he supposed to find her again without anything more personal to go by than her name?

Whoa.

Find her again? Did he even intend to look? He never had before, had never felt the need to see a woman other than his ex-wife more than once. But there was something about Gwen that got under his skin, made him want to know more.

It didn't help, either, that she'd been a virgin. She might not think he'd noticed, but he had. She'd been tight, and when he'd slid into her all the way, he'd felt her stiffen and watched her bite down gently on her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

He wondered why she hadn't told him before things had gone too far. He hadn't been rough with her by any means, but he might have been a little more gentle if he'd known. Taken things a little more slowly.

And then he wondered if that hadn't been the point all along. Was that what she'd meant by thanking him for making her birthday special?

She'd almost left The Hot Spot with that polyester lizard, and then seemed more than happy to let Ethan rescue her and take her home. Had that been her plan from the start? To hook up with some stranger who would be more than happy to relieve her of her virginity?

He wasn't certain of her age, but she looked too old never to have been with a man before. Especially with that body, that hair, that taste in watch-me-want-me-take-me fashion.

But if his suspicions were correct...

He felt used.

Funny, for a man who'd had his share of one-night stands. He couldn't say he liked the feeling one d.a.m.n bit.

Digging Gwen's balled-up note out from under the row of cabinets, he peeled it open and ran the heel of his hand over the thin, white square to smooth the wrinkles.

So maybe he would look for her. There were some choice questions he'd like to ask the next time he ran into her, and she was bound to return to the club eventually. He'd simply put his staff on the lookout for a pet.i.te redhead with soft chocolate eyes and a laugh that could melt a man's bones.

With that thought in mind, he put the abandoned pot of coffee on to drip, then headed back to the bedroom to take a shower and dress. If he went into the club early today, he'd be able to get some paperwork done, as well as talk to each of his employees as they arrived for work about keeping an eye out for Gwen.

He'd find her, and then the two of them would have a little talk.

Four.

T wo weeks pa.s.sed with no sign of Gwen at The Hot Spot, and Ethan became more surly by the day.

Just last night, before closing, he'd snapped at one of his waitresses simply because she brought him a Scotch on the rocks when he'd asked for it straight up...and because she had the audacity to wear her highlighted auburn hair in a style that reminded him of Gwen's.

This had to stop, he thought, pounding on the steering wheel in frustration. It was obvious she wasn't going to sashay into his bar anytime soon, considering she hadn't found it necessary to do so in the past thirteen days, four hours and twenty-seven minutes.

Which meant he either had to forget her or take other measures to track her down.

Well, if he were honest, he had tried to forget her.

He'd done some drinking-not all that much more than his usual social drinking, but enough that his staff had started to cast strange looks in his direction.

He'd gone to the gym with his best friend, Peter, and tried to work off his frustrations-first on the treadmill, then with free weights, and finally by knocking the stuffing out of a punching bag while Peter held the heavy piece of equipment and bit his tongue to keep from asking for the dozenth time what had crawled up Ethan's b.u.t.t and died.

None of it helped.

And worst of all, he hadn't had s.e.x, since Gwen effectively eliminated his desire for any other woman.

Oh, women at the club had flirted with him whenever he left his office long enough to be seen at the bar. He'd even flirted back a bit...until he realized it was more out of habit than from any real interest in taking the women home with him.

What he needed was to get laid. Tension and a low ebb of anger coursed through his body twenty-four/seven, and the only way he could think to rid himself of the jaw-clenching emotions was to achieve physical release.

Unfortunately, the only person he wanted to attain that relief with was a certain pet.i.te redhead by the name of Gwen Thomas.

As though reflection alone caused her to materialize from thin air, he spotted her on the steps of the local library.

At least, he thought it was Gwen.

He stood on the brakes, belatedly realizing he was in the middle of the heavy midday traffic crawling through downtown Georgetown. Lifting his foot, he just managed to avoid being rear-ended by the car behind him.

He returned his gaze to the library.

Now where the h.e.l.l was she? Had he lost her again already?

No, wait, there she was, walking down the street.

He craned his neck to keep her in sight until he was able to edge out of the lunch hour crush and into an available parking s.p.a.ce.

Jumping out of his silver Lexus, he poured a handful of change into the meter and raced down the street, desperately trying to keep an eye trained on the woman he suspected was Gwen.