Intimate Relations: Awakened Part 2

"You are so beautiful." He reached for her and again he wished he could be what she needed, what she wanted. "Ah, Mandy. So perfect. You have no idea..."

She stepped into his embrace, wrapped her arms around his waist, lay her head against his bare chest, and mumbled, "No, Marc. You have no idea."

He felt her shudder. Was she crying? "Mandy?"

When she raised her head, she was smiling, her lips twitched and thank goodness it was laughter, not tears. He didn't get it. Not at all, and his frown must have told her exactly that.

"What?" She rolled her eyes in a most dramatic fashion. "Marc, I told you. Six, maybe seven years ago at least, I was watching you. I had the biggest crush on that hot guy on the bike, kept waiting for him to come in for coffee, but he never stopped. I wondered where he was going, who he was, what he did. Then when I saw the picture in People of Marcus Reed, I thought that must have been you in spite of the old bike, but I realized that if it was you, you were so far out of my league that there was no way in h.e.l.l we'd ever end up..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "But here we are, so let's just stop talking, okay?"

He tightened his arms around her and held her close. "Works for me. But Mandy..."

"Yes, Marc?"

He laughed. "Don't expect a guy with smooth moves. I'm much better with software than I am with women."

"Hmm ... all that tweaking of code, fingers flying on the keyboard? It's got to be good training for something." She slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and he rolled his hips forward without thinking. She raised her head and stared at his mouth. "Your s.e.xy lips pursed in concentration, working on some tough code. Yeah. Definitely good."

"Oh. Yeah. s.e.xy lips?" He sucked in a sharp breath. "One can hope."

She glanced up, smiling, and then focused on his pants again. She flipped the metal stud free at the waistband and lifted the tab on his zipper. Slowly, with both of them watching the snail-speed progress, she drew the tab down, unzipping his pants one set of metal teeth at a time.

The sound echoed in the room, or at least it sounded that way to his heightened senses.

By the time she reached the bottom, his c.o.c.k was pressing against the fly of his cotton knit boxers and he had to grab her hands.

"If you so much as touch me, the party's going to end right here."

"Really?" Eyes wide, she stared innocently up at him. Innocent like a barracuda ...

He leaned close and kissed the big grin off her mouth. d.a.m.n, but her lips were so good, full, and warm, and when he lifted her against him and felt the soft press of her warm b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest, his whole body shivered with the shock of connection, the full knowledge that he needed to be inside Mandy now. He broke the kiss, inhaled, exhaled, sucked in another deep breath, and turned them both toward the bed.

When he fell, it was with Mandy on top of him. She landed with her knees to either side of his thighs, her hands grasping his shoulders. He lifted just enough to grab the nipple on her left breast between his lips, sucking it into his mouth, pressing the tautly furled tip with the flat of his tongue.

Her body was sleek and warm, her nipple a hard knot of puckered flesh between his lips, and he couldn't get enough of her.

She moaned and arched her back, but then she was scrambling out of his reach, grabbing the waistband of his jeans and tugging them down his hips. His boxers went with the denim, though she had to pause and lift the elastic over his erection. Biting back a terribly unmanly sigh of relief, Marc raised his hips so Mandy could pull all the offending cotton over his a.s.s, down his legs, and off.

She sat back on her heels and stared at him. His c.o.c.k twitched, standing there between his thighs, leaning most obscenely in Mandy's direction. He thought of it as a homing device and almost laughed when that simple thought had him swelling harder, larger.

Raising her head, Mandy made eye contact and then slowly shook her head. "I can't believe you've been hiding this from me, Mr. Reed."

He laughed. It was so simple-she made him happy. He'd enjoyed her friendship from the very beginning, but this? He'd been afraid to even dream of something like this, but he grabbed Mandy at the waist, rolled with her, and held her down with his c.o.c.k planted firmly against the silky, s.e.xy, pink panties.

So close, but he had to know. "Promise me this won't change us? That you won't be angry and want me out of your life? I'm so afraid of ruining what we have."

"You sure you're not just concerned about missing out on Lola's cooking if we screw this friendship up?"

He really did have to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "There is that, and yes, I've taken it into consideration. I'm her boss. I can always install a kitchen at the office."

"I see." She ran her fingertip along his jawline and sighed dramatically. "Then I guess we'll just have to wing it." The laughter, the twinkling humor in her eyes sort of faded away as she studied him. "I want you now, Marc. I can't imagine this being anything but wonderful."

There really wasn't a response for that. Not verbally, anyway. He dipped his head and ran his tongue around the nipple on her left, the one on her right. Suckled that taut bud between his lips, tugging enough to wring a moan from Mandy. He repeated the process on the left one, used his lips and teeth this time.

Her short, sharp pants had to be an affirmative response. He hoped.

He kissed his way down her ribcage, mouthing each rib's rise and fall until he reached the sleek skin over her stomach, tasting her, not following any rules or thoughts beyond what felt right, what he wanted, what he hoped Mandy wanted. Inhaling her subtle fragrance, tasting the unique flavors that were all Mandy, exploring freely after so many nights of needing, wanting. Her fingers slid through his short hair as he nuzzled her hip bones and finally moved lower to press his mouth over the satiny crotch of her panties.

He exhaled, a warm, damp breath that had Mandy rolling her hips, tightening her fingers against his skull, holding him in place. He exhaled again and felt her stomach muscles contract.

This was something he'd never done before, had never really thought about until he met Mandy. Since then? He'd fantasized for weeks, tasting Mandy in his dreams, peeling the clothing away from her body, kissing her all over.

Lifting himself up on his elbows, he rolled the elastic band down over her hips, exposing the dark blond curls between her legs and the soft pink folds of her s.e.x already swollen and damp with her arousal. He'd never seen anything so erotic in his life.

"Take them off. Please?" She grabbed the waistband and shoved, lifting her hips. Marc went back on his heels and helped her, tugging the tiny sc.r.a.p of satin over her long legs. So sleek and muscular-that long walk to and from work every day kept her in excellent shape.

Sometimes she ran with him, and following her had been its own kind of h.e.l.l. Watching that perfect a.s.s, those long, sleek legs. He ran his hands from the tops of her thighs to her ankles, feeling the lean strength beneath her silky smooth skin, the firm muscles. She wasn't laughing anymore. There was a dark pink flush to her cheeks, across her chest, over her abdomen.

Arousal had never been so beautiful. Kneeling between her thighs, he slipped his hands beneath her hips, gently palmed her perfectly shaped bottom and lifted her to his mouth, his attention focused on the tightly furled lips of her s.e.x. He glanced up, caught her watching him with a look of absolute wonder in her eyes. "Are you okay with this?"

"Yes. Definitely yes." She smiled and lay her head back on the pillow. Waved her fingers in his direction. "Don't let me stop you."

"Right." How he actually managed a wink, he wasn't sure. His c.o.c.k had never been this hard, rising up against his belly, fluid already covering the tip, more than ready to find a home deep inside Mandy. Doing his best to ignore the stubbornly persistent thing, he dipped his head and ran the flat of his tongue over her. She was wet and hot, her taste like nothing he'd expected.

He wanted more. He licked her again, going deeper, spearing his tongue between her damp folds, but when he found the taut nub at the top of her s.e.x, she arched into him with a soft whimper. He felt as if he'd found the Holy Grail.

Had he found it on any of the other women? Certainly not with his mouth, probably not even with his fingers. He hadn't taken any of those women to bed. They'd taken him.

That People magazine Mandy had saved? He'd been overwhelmed by the sudden feminine interest, women dragging him from the obscurity of his quiet workshop into what had turned into almost two months of constant but meaningless s.e.x with the most predatory females he'd ever met. He really had gone a little crazy.

At least he'd finally come to his senses, but not until he'd had s.e.x with close to a dozen women-never anyone more than once-and it had been some of the worst times he could remember. He never, ever wanted to feel that way again. A commodity, somebody one lucky girl hoped to snag, at least long enough to get her hands on his rapidly growing income.

He didn't remember any of their names, didn't care to see any of them ever again. Each and every single one of them had been a beautiful, intelligent predator. He'd come to his senses after one particularly bad evening and hadn't been with a woman since.

Mandy was more than making up for all those terrible nights. As her body writhed in his hands, he grew more confident with each lick and stroke. When he thought she might be close to coming, he concentrated on her c.l.i.toris-such a technical name for that small nub of nerves at the top of her s.e.x-ground zero for all those wonderful sighs and whimpers she was making. He held her bottom with his left hand, teased along her cleft with his right, entering her with two and then three fingers.

He was fairly big and he didn't want to hurt her, but this he'd actually researched, proof Mandy was right-computer skills weren't all about the software.

He wrapped his lips around her c.l.i.t and tongued, then suckled that sensitive bit of flesh. Thrust deep inside her with his fingers. Her knees clamped the sides of his head, her v.a.g.i.n.al walls clamped down on his fingers, her body arched, and she screamed.

He'd never imagined Mandy as a screamer, but he couldn't stop grinning as he slowly brought her down and then reached for one of the condoms on the bedside table. He had himself sheathed and back between her knees in a heartbeat. Carefully he took himself in hand and pointed his erect c.o.c.k at Mandy's center with his eyes locked on hers, on the dreamy look on her face, the sparkle of tears in her eyes.

She wanted him, Marcus Reed. The man, not his money, not his name. Just him. He pressed forward, she lifted her hips, he pushed harder and filled her, and it was unlike any other time with any other woman. He was meant to be here, with Mandy. She was beyond unique, and she was his. He'd never wanted anything or anyone this much. Somehow, some way, he had to figure out how to keep her-and keep her safe. He leaned forward and kissed her. Put his heart and soul in his kiss, hoping like h.e.l.l he didn't screw this up. Not this, not when, for the first time in his life, he knew exactly how coming home should feel.

Still in shock when Marc's lips met hers, Mandy opened to him. His lips were damp, even his chin, and she knew she tasted herself in his kiss. It was wonderful and raw, and so erotic she trembled. He filled her, so completely, so perfectly, she almost cried. Maybe she would. Later.

She'd never once been with a man who'd gone down on her. For that matter, she'd never gone down on a guy, either, but she wanted to. With Marc, she wanted to do everything. His lips parted over hers, his tongue swept boldly across her teeth, tangled with hers before he gently ended the kiss. She arched to the stretch and burn as he thrust deep between her legs, slowly pulled out, and then tilted his hips and just as slowly filled her again.

"More," she said, and wondered who this woman was, asking Marc for more. "I want all of you, Marc. Harder. Faster."

He sucked in a breath. "I don't want to hurt you, Mandy. I'm big. You're tiny." His laugh sounded beautifully strained. She liked that. A lot.

"Not that small, and I'm a lot tougher than I look." She raised her hips, meeting him mid thrust, felt the thick head of his c.o.c.k slide across her cervix. "So good. More."

"Greedy, aren't you?"

"Only for you. I've waited so long." She wrapped her arms around his waist and palmed his taut b.u.t.t. The man had an exquisite body, toned and sleek, and while he'd said he wasn't good with women, she wasn't sure how he could get any better. "Unrequited l.u.s.t isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Truth," he said, and he rolled his hips, thrust harder, faster.

Her body was already spiraling high, finding that peak once again. Another first. She'd never come with a man during s.e.x. It always took a little help, if not from the guy, then she'd do it herself, but tonight-with Marc-it appeared that wasn't going to be a problem. Not at all.

He went back on his heels, taking Mandy with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and her heels pressed against his b.u.t.t. He pounded into her, deeper, harder, so much deeper than before. From this angle, he managed to connect with her c.l.i.t on every pa.s.s, but when he leaned close and took her nipple between his lips and teeth everything connected-a super-charged bolt of sensation linked her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his mouth, her womb, his c.o.c.k.

She cried out as his thrusts went from long and hard to short, fast, and wonderfully deep. His arms tightened around her as all her internal muscles clamped tightly around him, her back arched and Marc's primal groan sent shivers racing across her skin. They collapsed together, the two of them in a wet and sweaty heap, trembling with the aftermath of o.r.g.a.s.m.

She'd never experienced anything even remotely this amazing. Not that she'd had all that many lovers-there'd actually been very few-but having a mother who changed boyfriends the way most women changed their clothes had deeply affected both girls. Lola had been every bit as choosy, especially after one of her exes turned out to be totally psycho.

Now Lola had Ben, and Mandy hoped like h.e.l.l she had Marc, because that crush she'd carried around with her for so many years? After tonight she knew it was so much more.

She didn't want to risk their friendship, but she wasn't about to give up on love, either.

Marc awoke with a start, and realized he'd fallen asleep in Mandy's bed, which was exactly what he didn't want to do. It was too dangerous. At least there'd been no dreams, but they needed to talk about what had happened, figure out a way to do this again that wouldn't put Mandy's safety at risk. That meant telling her everything, stripping himself bare. So that she would at least have the chance to tell him to leave, before this went too far.

But not tonight. She was exhausted. And he was selfish enough to hold on to the fantasy for just a little bit longer.

Carefully, he slipped his arm out from under her and rolled away. She came with him, wrapping her arms around him, nuzzling his throat, kissing his shoulder as she came awake. Then she was kissing her way down his side, pausing over his hipbone. Her hair tickled the root of his c.o.c.k.

She hadn't said a word, hadn't made a sound, but he was rising hot and hard against her cheek when she turned toward him and unexpectedly licked the full length of his c.o.c.k from root to tip. His hips bucked and he went from semi to full-blown erection in the course of a couple of heartbeats.

Mandy rolled to her knees and took him in her mouth. The firm pressure of her lips, the wet warmth of her mouth enfolding him as she sucked him deep and then slowly slipped back to the tip before sliding down again, was unbelievable. Looking into her dark eyes in the soft glow from the nightlight in the hallway, her lips stretched around the thick girth of his c.o.c.k as she rhythmically glided her mouth up and then down over his length was a visual he'd never forget.

The other women, every single one of them, had performed oral s.e.x on him, but that's all it had been-a performance. This-what Mandy did-was something else. The intimacy of her lips on him, the way her mouth stretched around his thick length, the tip of her tongue sweeping over him when she reached the end and, holding him in her fist, used her tongue to lick across his slick, plum-shaped glans? Heaven.

She took him to the edge. When she cupped his b.a.l.l.s in her hand and her mouth tightened around his entire crown, he groaned. There was no stopping a sound he hadn't consciously made, but as he reached for her, she turned him loose, backed away, and grabbed a condom. Kneeling between his legs, she carefully placed it over the broad tip, shiny now from her mouth, and rolled it down his shaft.

Her touch almost took him over the edge. He'd been hanging precariously since she first turned to him in her sleep, but now he fisted his hands around the blankets twisted beneath him, and held on. Barely.

"I know in theory how this is supposed to work." She studied the way the sheath covered him. "I've never done this before, so tell me if it's on right. I'm not ready to be a mom."

"It looks perfect." He lay back. "For what it's worth, when you are ready, you're going to be a perfect mom. Now straddle me. You be on top this time."

"What? No control issues? You'll let me be in charge?"

He laughed. "Actually, I'm letting you do all the work."

"I should have known you'd see it that way."

But she crawled closer, planted her knees on either side of his thighs, lifted herself over him, let him grab hold at the base of his c.o.c.k and aim while she positioned herself until she could just sit down on him. Only she did it slowly-much slower than he'd expected-forcing him deep, but moving at a snail's pace until he was gritting his teeth by the time she settled herself against him.

Her feminine muscles rippled over his shaft, a subtle, rhythmic pulse of surprising strength. He lay there a moment, absorbing the feelings, the sense of connection that was so new, so unbelievably powerful.

Watching as his thick shaft disappeared between her thighs, watching the way her body spread and stretched to accommodate him, had been absolutely fascinating. Now, the almost delicate waves of tiny contractions-a precursor to climax, maybe a sign of her arousal-held him immobile.

"Thank you," he said. When she c.o.c.ked her head and sort of frowned at him, he couldn't stop smiling. "It's amazing," he said. "The way it looks when I fill you up, how your body opens for me." He focused on her eyes-such a beautiful shade of brown, yet they looked almost black in the low light. "I've never seen that before. I think it's my new favorite visual."

They both laughed as he raised his hips and bounced her a couple of times.

This time, the frantic edge was missing. Marc loosely cupped her hips in his hands and knew they had discovered a perfect meeting of two bodies. He couldn't imagine ever growing tired of this, of Mandy, and yet, until he figured out the meaning of those horrific dreams, he saw no way to make this wonderful connection growing between them work.

This time, at least, he didn't try to sneak out. Lying there with her head on Marc's shoulder, her body still quivering, she turned to him, wondering if he'd fallen asleep.

He lay beside her, eyes wide open, his forehead creased in thought. Raising up on one elbow, she leaned close and kissed him. "What's wrong, Marc? I'm lying here feeling as if my whole body is still soaring, and you look like you've just lost your best friend."

He turned to her with a hint of a smile. "I did lose my best friend one time," he said, referring to the five years Jake Lowell had spent locked up in a juvenile detention center for a crime he didn't commit. "This is actually more difficult to deal with."

She shifted until she was sitting cross-legged beside him. "s.e.x with me is that bad?"

He rolled over and sat facing her. "Far from it. Pretty d.a.m.ned wonderful. I've been trying to figure out how to tell you that I can't stay with you, here in your bed, overnight." He leaned close and kissed her and then slipped off the bed before she could stop him. Searched for his boxers in the tumbled pile of clothes and slipped them on.

"I have to stay in my own room, Mandy. There's a lot I need to think about before I can talk to you about it, but remember when I said there were things you didn't know about me? They're important things, and one in particular is probably a deal breaker." He shook his head and stared at the open bedroom door. Then he held out his hand.

She took it. What other choice did she have? He tugged and she stood beside the bed, naked, but for all the attention Marc paid to her body right now, she might as well have been wearing sweats and a T-shirt. She followed him to the door. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, but there was no joy in his kiss. No sense of anything other than despair.

"Lock the door behind me. If I come back to your room tonight, don't let me in. We'll talk in the morning."

She forced a small laugh. "What? Are you a vampire? A werewolf that changes at the full moon?" She shrugged. "The full moon is over a week away. Just a tiny sliver out there, now." Except her voice broke on the last words. When Marc closed his eyes, looking like a whipped puppy, she let it go. Let him go.

She gave him a quick kiss. "Go," she said. "I care enough about you to do what you ask me to do, even though it doesn't make sense."

He sucked in a ragged breath, stepped out of her embrace and out of her room. Then he closed the door behind him. It was a heavy door, very old and solid wood, but she still heard him. Figured he must be leaning against the other side.

"I want to hear you lock this. Please, Mandy? Do it."

She turned the deadbolt, turned away, and walked back to the bed, but she crawled under the covers on the side where Marc had been. At least it smelled a bit like him. Maybe she'd even be able to pretend he cared enough to stay, except she didn't think caring had a d.a.m.ned thing to do with his leaving. There was something tearing him up inside. Something horrible.

Did a woman who loved a man let him work things out on his own, or did she go to him, help him carry the load? He'd been adamant that she stay away. If only she knew for sure.

The last time he'd cried had been the day the bailiff marched his closest-h.e.l.l, his only-friend, Jake Lowell, out of the courtroom wearing handcuffs. Marc hadn't even made it to the car. No, he'd stood there in the hallway outside the courtroom and he'd cried like a baby. Cried for Jake, for the end of Jake's amazing Olympic career, and he'd cried for himself.

The only friend he had in the world, the only person he'd ever thought of as family, had just been sentenced to eight long years at the California Youth Authority. Marc was terrified of making it without Jake's steady presence beside him.