I'll Be Watching You Part 18

"So are you sure you want this now? Because the timing--"

She pressed her fingers to his lips. "I'm sure. I want this so much I'll probably die if you lapse into the Sir Galahad routine." She sat up, tugged her nightshirt over her head, and tossed it aside. "You said you'd know, that there'd be no miscommunications. Well, know. This is exactly what I want. Here. Now."

That was all he needed.

He yanked at the comforter, and she helped him, wriggling from one knee to the other until he'd dragged the comforter out from between them. That done, he rolled her onto the sheets, on her back and under him.

He was naked. She could feel every incredible inch of him, hot and hard and desperate to get inside her. He kissed her, his mouth as hot as the rest of him, his knees wedging between her thighs, nudging them apart. He reached between their bodies, his fingers opening her, finding her slick and wet and quivering at his touch.

She heard herself cry out.

"Dammit. I can't wait." Reed's body was shaking as he crushed her into the mattress, his p.e.n.i.s probing the entrance to her body. "Taylor ... I'm sorry ... I..."

"Don't stop." Taylor couldn't wait any more than he. She raised her hips, her knees gripping his sides to urge him inside her.

In one hard thrust, he was all the way in, and the world seemed to stop for one exquisite, unbearable moment. Reed made a harsh, inarticulate sound, gritting his teeth against the excruciating physical pleasure, and Taylor caught her breath, wrapping her arms around his back, trying to keep him where he was. There. Right there.

Impossibly, he made it better, pushing a fraction deeper, stretching and filling her beyond comprehension.

Taylor's nails dug into his back, and she could feel her o.r.g.a.s.m already building, tightening inside her.

Reed felt it, too. He withdrew, then pushed back inside--but slowly, maddeningly, caressing her inside and out as he felt her body coiling tighter and tighter around his.

She climaxed in a rush, the sensation so powerful she couldn't breathe, much less cry out. She convulsed, again and again, her spasms radiating out from her core, growing in intensity, milking every inch of Reed's already straining erection.

His last semblance of control snapped.

Gripping Taylor's hips, he pulled out, then plunged back in, coming even as he did. He matched her contractions with his own, jetting into her and grinding out her name from between clenched teeth.

He collapsed on top of her, his face buried in her neck, and Taylor sank into the mattress, feeling as weak as if she'd run a marathon.

Real time resumed, the ticking of a clock somewhere in the apartment mingling with the rumbles and honks of traffic from the street below. Still, neither of them moved, the harsh breaths shuddering through them requiring all the energy they had left.

Reed made the first discernible sound. It was a long-drawn-out groan.

Taylor responded with a wisp of laughter, and she lifted her foot a bit, rubbed her arch against his calf.

"Are you all right?" he muttered.

"Fantastic. Spectacular." A pause. "Although, if you were counting on 'slow,' I don't think you got it."

His husky chuckle vibrated against her skin. "No, sweetheart, what I got was a lightning strike. I'm not quite sure I'm alive."

"Oh, you're alive," she a.s.sured him.

"Barely." He gave a slight shake of his head. "I've never lost control like that."

"I inspire you."

"You more than inspire me. You bring out things in me I never--" With a hard swallow, he broke off, obviously not ready to go down that particular path. "I'm too heavy. I don't want to crush you," he p.r.o.nounced instead. Unsteadily, he managed to prop himself on his elbows, then made a halfhearted attempt to hoist himself off of her.

"Don't you dare." Taylor put a lid on that idea, wrapping her limbs around him. "I like you right where you are."

One dark brow rose. "Now who's making decisions for whom?"

"I am." She smiled, feeling more uninhibited than she ever had in her life. "I never said my rules were reciprocal. Besides, that lightning strike you described? It was incredible. Beyond incredible. Still, I'd like to try slow, too. Just for comparison's sake."

"Would you now?" His grin was pure seduction, and he rolled them both over so she was on top, but he was still inside her. "Me, too. I'd like to try slow . . . and a whole lot more. As soon as I have the strength."

"And when will that be?" she asked, letting her knees slide down on either side of him and shifting her hips ever so slightly.

His breath emerged in a hiss, his p.e.n.i.s hardening inside her. "How does now sound?"

"Now sounds perfect."

They lay quietly together, Reed's fingers idly threading through strands of Taylor's hair.

He was pensive. She could sense it.

She glanced up, caught him studying her from beneath hooded lids. "Okay, what? You're thinking something. What is it?"

"I'm wondering if you're really okay," he answered bluntly. "If this wasn't too soon for you, or maybe a reaction to what happened today."

"I am, and it wasn't." Taylor propped her chin on his chest. "Yes, I've been pondering life and the curves it throws. Under the circ.u.mstances, that's to be expected. But that didn't affect my desire to make love with you. That's something I've wanted for days. And it was well worth the wait." She pushed herself up so she could meet his gaze. "Reed, we both knew where this relationship was headed. To put it off until we'd resolved all my emotional baggage would be unrealistic and a stupid waste of time."

Reed's brows drew together. He didn't contradict her, but he didn't look anywhere near ready to let this go. "I still plan on getting you to trust me and to rely on me--not just in bed, but in fact."

"I know. And I hope you succeed."

"And Taylor. . ." There was an intensity about him that told her there was no room for discussion in whatever he was about to say. "Let's be clear about one thing. This is a relationship--not a moment."

"I know," Taylor replied quietly. "And, if you're asking, yes, I'm scared to death. But it's a risk I want to take."

Something tender flickered in his eyes. "Good." He drew her mouth back down to his. "Back to the subject at hand. We seem to have mastered the lightning strike. What do you say we try for something in between before we try tackling slow?"

CHAPTER 17.

FEBRUARY 6.

1:15 A.M.

WEST SEVENTY-SECOND STREET.

He made his way to Taylor's apartment building. He'd been here earlier, but she'd been out. He hoped she was okay. She must have taken the news hard. But he'd had no choice. It had to be done.

He was glad he hadn't punished Taylor. He knew it wasn't her fault. Men kept pursuing her. But she turned them away. They never spent the night. They all tried to stay. But she made them leave. Now he'd taught one of them a lesson.

He couldn't believe how easy it had been. Following the stupid drunk to the subway station, using a Metrocard he'd bought with cash at one of those big vending machines so there'd be no chance of being traced, and riding with him to Times Square. With his head swallowed up by his parka hood and his nose buried in a book, he'd evaded identification by the video surveillance system. He'd been just another late-night rider freezing his b.u.t.t off in the New York subway. Then, once he'd transferred to the Flushing line, it had been a piece of cake.

Now maybe they'd learn.

He crossed the street. Taylor's apartment was just half a block away.

He felt the usual thrill rush through him that he felt when he was near her. Only this time was better.

He was back in control now, despite the earlier setback. He was on his way to realizing his dream.

Soon she'd be his.

He reached his destination, excitement thrumming through him.

An hour later, excitement had transformed to rage.

Where the h.e.l.l was she?

At first, he'd thought she was asleep. But he knew she slept with a small light on. And the apartment was pitch-dark. Which meant she was still out.

Out where? With whom?

An ugly wave of suspicion began surging inside him, mingling with the fury that was already pumping through his veins.

She could be in many places--with a friend or a family member.

Or with Reed Weston.

CHAPTER 18.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 6.

6:50 P.M.

WVNY.

The mood at the radio station was somber.

Everyone was going through the motions; going about their business in robotlike shock, talking quietly among themselves about the upcoming funeral service. Only the live-talk-show hosts--out of sheer necessity and strictly during their on-the-air time--managed to inject a modic.u.m of enthusiasm in their tone. But the moment their two-hour stints were up, they became as solemn as the rest of the WVNY family.

Jack had gathered them together immediately after he got word from Marilyn. He'd broken the news straightforwardly, although there was a glitter of tears in his eyes as he spoke. For those who weren't present, he sent out a simple, official memo, then issued a statement of sorrow and condolence to the trade media. As for Taylor's intentions to make a more personal statement at the outset of her show, he fully supported that.

Well, that outset was just an hour away now, and the atmosphere in Taylor's studio was morose.

Taylor stood at the counter beside Kevin's desk, rereading her commemorative notes about Rick, not absorbing a single word. Kevin was queuing up phone calls on autopilot, shaking his head as Sally asked him gently, for the third time, if he'd like her to handle his desk for one more night.

"Just to give you another day to get it together," she suggested.

"No." Kevin shook his head. "Believe me, more time to think is the last thing I need." He pivoted around in his chair so he could face her. "Thanks, Sal. It's not that I don't appreciate your offer, or that I'm skeptical about your ability to handle the show. You did a great job last night. I'm sure you'd do just as great a job with Taylor on live. But I'll go crazy if I don't get back to work." A weighted pause. "Besides, I need to feel like I'm part of the tribute Taylor's about to give Rick."

"I understand."

"That's a.s.suming I get through that tribute without falling apart," Taylor murmured, abandoning her notes and shoving them in the pocket of her blazer.

"You will," Sally a.s.sured her, squeezing Taylor's arm before gathering up her things to go. Her blond head was bowed, her usual bouncy personality tempered by sadness. "You'll find the strength--and the right words. You always do."

"Thanks." Taylor gave Sally a faint smile as she headed for the door. She wished she shared Sally's optimism. But she was feeling raw and shaky. She'd have to overcome both, not just to say what she wanted to about Rick, but, afterward, to switch gears and conduct a normal show.

Sally pa.s.sed Dennis on her way out. He took one step into the room, then paused, rubbing his s.h.a.ggy head and looking miserably uncomfortable. "I... Look, guys, I don't know what to say. Jack sent me in. But I don't feel like I should be here."

Taylor felt a wave of sympathy. Rick had been training him, and Dennis looked up to him as a mentor. Right now, he looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up.

"Dennis, please don't feel that way." Taylor gestured for him to come in. "This is exactly where you should be. It's where Rick would want you to be. Look, the circ.u.mstances may be devastating, but the fit is right. Rick believed you were a natural. The pain we feel at his loss has nothing to do with our faith in your abilities. We're grateful to have you." She extended her hand. "Welcome to our team."

Self-consciously, Dennis shook her hand. "Thanks."

"Yeah, ditto." Kevin stood, reaching across to offer his own handshake. "Good to have you on board."

"That's nice of you." Dennis stared at the ground. "I'm not much with words. But I feel... I mean, I just can't believe ... I wish--"

"We know." Taylor cut him off gently. "Tell you what. We have a little time before we go on the air.

Get comfortable at the control panel. I'll get us all some coffee. Then you can tell us a little bit about yourself so we can get to know you better."

He looked startled. "Are you sure you want to do that tonight?"

Taylor nodded. Under circ.u.mstances such as these, one sound psychological strategy was to inject an element of normalcy into everyone's interactions. It worked wonders toward upping the group comfort level, and toward getting some normalcy to actually sink in. "Very sure. Frankly, if I look at the notes I jotted down about Rick one more time, I'm going to lose it. I'd rather sit and talk with you guys. It'll ease all of us into pulling off a regular show."

"I agree." Kevin sounded relieved. "I'll get Dennis set up while you grab the coffee."

Ten minutes later, they sat, sipping their coffee, Kevin at his desk, Dennis at the control panel, and Taylor sitting in a chair she'd pulled up across from them.

"So, are you a long-term radio buff like everyone else here?" Taylor asked.

She could actually see Dennis relax a tad. "Big-time. I always wanted to work at a radio station. I just wasn't sure what I'd end up doing there. I've always been good with electronics and computers, and I was an audio-phile in my teens. Still am. After that, I dabbled at some hole-in-the-wall stations. I learned a lot--including how much I like handling the tech aspects of the business."

"Yeah, I hear you about the dabbling." Kevin grinned. "What hole-in-the-wall towns did you hit?"

"You name it. I'm from a hick town in Nebraska. I got out of there when I was sixteen. I backpacked around the country for a couple of years, stopping here and there to do radio stints. I was everything from a gofer to an audio tech."

"What made you come east?"

"The Big Apple. It was a risk. I knew I was trying to break into the big league. But Manhattan's filled with radio stations. I just wanted to get a foot in the door at one of them. I'd do it without pay if I had to, just to learn and show them what I could do. I got lucky. Jack gave me a break."

"Jack's got a good eye for talent," Taylor said. "So it's not just luck." She switched gears, going for a lighter, more personal touch in case Dennis felt like he was in the hot seat. She wanted him to thaw, not tense up. "Since there are no secrets in this place, you might as well give us some insight into your personal life. You know, family, hobbies, interests--that kind of thing."

"Don't forget significant others," Kevin added quickly.