Nobody's Baby But Mine Part 21

"I am not."

"Scared to show me what you've got. Scared you won't measure up to all those thousands of women in my past."

"There aren't thousands thousands of women in your past." of women in your past."

His grin looked so much like a fox's that she could almost see the chicken feathers stuck to his mouth.

Her heart thudded against her ribs. She was frightened, aroused, and amused all at the same time, which made it difficult to frown and sound grouchy. "Oh, all right. I guess I'll make out with you. But keep your hands to yourself."

"That's not fair since I'm gonna let you put yours wherever you want."

A dozen locations sprang to mind. "I'm sure I won't want to."

"I seriously hope that's not true." He switched off the dome light and plunged them into darkness so thick she felt as if the stars had been turned off.

Her eyes gradually adjusted enough to make out his shape, if not his features. He cupped her shoulder, and she felt him come close. "Maybe you just need me to remind you where some of the best places are." His lips brushed past her trashy hoop earring and settled on the tender spot beneath. "This one, for example, is a nice warm-up spot."

She caught her breath and wondered how he knew she was sensitive there. "If you're going to talk through this, could you at least manage to say ain't ain't a few times so I can fantasize?" a few times so I can fantasize?"

His lips tugged on her earlobe, right next to the gold wire, and his elbow b.u.mped against the door. "Who could you fantasize about that's better than me?"

"Well ..." She struggled to speak as her skin turned to goose flesh. "There's this studm.u.f.fin physicist who used to be a top-quark hunter at Fermilabs ..."

"I doubt he says ain't ain't." He played at the corner of her mouth. "You're supposed to be showing me what you're made of. So far I'm doing all the work here."

She lost what remained of her restraint and tilted her head just far enough for her lips to meet his. The contact jolted her so that she forgot all about playing games, and as their kiss deepened, she abandoned herself to the pleasure of the erotic. She tasted beer and popcorn, along with a hint of toothpaste and something dangerous that reminded her of thunder.

"You are the d.a.m.nedest woman," he whispered.

She kissed him again. He pulled her shirttail free, and his big hands, strong and possessive, settled on the skin beneath. His thumbs trailed up the small ridges of her spine 'til they came to her bra, then he whispered against her open mouth. "We have to get rid of this, Rosebud."

She didn't even consider arguing. As she enjoyed the sweet invasion of his tongue, he made short work of the b.u.t.tons on her blouse, despite the fact that the darkness kept him from seeing exactly what he was doing, then he released the front hook on her bra. His movements were accompanied by b.u.mps and thuds as he banged against one part of the car or another.

He bent to take her in his mouth. Her nipples were tender from her pregnancy, and when he began to suckle her, she bucked and dug her fingers into his hair. The exquisite pain of the gentle suction left her wanting both to cry out for him to stop and beg him not to.

She knew she had to touch him as he was touching her, and she dragged at his T-shirt. The interior of the car had grown hot and steamy, and the soft cotton felt damp beneath her hands. Her shoulder b.u.mped against the window, and she felt the moisture that had congealed on it seep through her blouse.

He helped her free his T-shirt, then turned his attention to her jeans. He pitched her shoes into the front seat, then tugged at the denim while she explored the contours of his bare chest.

She gave an oof of surprise when he whipped off her jeans and her naked bottom came in contact with the cold upholstery. The shock jolted her and suddenly everything seemed to be happening too fast. She needed to think this over, weigh the facts, consider her options. "I didn't ... I don't ..."

"Hush." His husky whisper filled the steamy interior as he cupped her thigh and pushed it away from its mate. She heard a soft curse.

"It's too dark," he muttered. "I still can't see you."

She stroked the contours of his pectorals and trailed her thumb over the hard point of his nipple. "Go by feel," she whispered.

He did better than that. He went by taste, and she thought she would die from this pleasure she had dreamed of but never experienced.

"You don't-" She gasped. "You don't have to do that."

His chuckle wasn't altogether steady, and she moaned when his hot whispery breath fell on her. "Mind your own business."

Once again he dropped his head, and she felt as if all the parts of her were unraveling. She banged her elbow against the steamy window when she gripped his bare, damp shoulders. He swore and b.u.mped against the seat as he shifted his weight, but none of it mattered.

It was too exquisite, too miraculous. She climbed and spiraled, but just as she felt herself beginning to slip over the edge, he drew back. "Oh, no, you don't. Not without me."

She lay open and vulnerable before him. His breathing came fast and heavy. "G.o.d, this was a stupid idea. We should be doing this in the bedroom where we can see each other, but I can't wait that long. I need you now."

She reached for the snap on his jeans and felt the hard, thick shape of him. His breath caught on a hiss as she took her time unzipping, exploring until his restraint broke with a hoa.r.s.e exclamation. "No more, Rosebud. I can't take anymore."

"Wimp." She dropped her mouth to his chest and licked a special trail all her own.

He gave a sound that was part chuckle and part moan. At the same time, he leaned back and lifted her so she straddled him. She had lost all of her clothing except the blouse that hung open from her shoulders. He had only lost his T-shirt. Although she had freed him from his jeans, the s.p.a.ce was too confined for her to remove them completely. His chest was bare, however, as bare as her bottom, and she nipped him with her teeth.

He uttered a strangled exclamation, but she loved her position of supremacy, and she had no pity. Even though her feet were wedged awkwardly against the back of the front seat, she didn't let that prevent her from kissing him how and where she would.

While darkness deprived her of sight, her other senses grew more acute, and she suspected from his touches, tastes, and deep, intimate caresses that it was the same for him.

The faintest thread of moonlight caught a glimmering rivulet rolling down the steamy windows, and the sweat from their bodies was slick on her palms. He cupped her bare bottom in his big hands and lifted her. "Now, sweetheart. Now."

She moaned as he guided her down upon him, but her body accepted him without question. She gave a sob and pressed her breast to his mouth. He caressed her with lips, teeth, and tongue until she had to draw back and move on him before she went crazy.

Even as he grasped her hips, he didn't try to force her into his rhythm but let her find her own. She raised and lowered herself upon him, rubbing the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against the soft hair of his chest and returning his deep, devouring kisses. She felt strong and sure as she met his pa.s.sion. Sensation built upon sensation until reality slipped away and she felt as if she were being hurled through a supercollider, flying past the speed of light through a narrow underground pa.s.sage toward the place where everything came apart.

And then she cried out as all the molecules that made up who she was fragmented: atoms dissociated, nuclei detached, everything broke open, shattered, and, at the end, left her more complete than she had ever been.

He went rigid with her cry. His teeth sank into the side of her neck, not hurting her, but holding her as he spilled himself within her depths. For a fraction of time she felt his utter defenselessness, and she sagged forward, protecting him as he found his ease.

Their hearts thundered together, one pressed against the other. She turned her lips to his hair.

Finally he stirred beneath her, a shift of his hand, a movement in his leg. Only gradually did she grow aware of the strain in her splayed thighs and the cramp in her calf. The air inside the car was so thick with heat it was hard to draw breath, but she didn't want to move. This intimacy was too precious to her.

"What am I going to do with you?" he muttered against her breast.

You could try loving me.

The unspoken thought jarred her, then filled her with dismay. Was this the destructive path her subconscious was taking? She wanted him to fall in love with her? When had she lost touch with reality? What made her entertain, even in her fantasies, the notion that this man who wanted no attachments could love her, especially when no one else had ever been able to?

"You're going to take me home," she said briskly. "That was quite pleasant, but I have a great deal of work to do tomorrow, and I need my rest."

"Quite pleasant pleasant?"

It had been earth-shattering, but she could no more confess that to him than she could explain how their coming together had given her an entirely new understanding of high-speed subatomic particle collisions.

G.o.d. Why was she thinking of that now? Everything people believed about her was true! She was a complete geek.

She reached for her clothes. Her panties were lost somewhere in the dark, so she drew her jeans on without them, pulling them up over her wetness.

He threw open the door, and as the dome light flashed on, she drew her blouse across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He glanced down at her as he zipped his jeans. "You're not bad, Professor, for someone who isn't a big-time player."

His casual dismissal of what had been so important to her made her want to weep. Fool! But what did she expect? Did she think he was going to declare his undying love for her simply because she'd finally given him what he must have known he'd get all along?

They rode home in silence. He went into the house with her, and she felt his gaze as she climbed the stairs to her room.

She hesitated, then looked down at him watching her from the foyer below. "Thank you for a lovely evening."

She'd meant to sound brisk, but her words had a wistful quality. She didn't want the evening to end this way. What if she held out her hand and invited him into her bed? The idea chilled her. Was that the only way she could keep him at her side?

He slouched against the front door and looked bored. "Yeah, it was great."

He couldn't have found a clearer way to tell her he was finished with her. With a man like Cal Bonner, she realized, the game was everything, and once it was over, he lost interest. Heartsick and angry, she turned and headed for her room.

Moments later, she heard him drive away.

[image]

Pleasant! She'd said it was She'd said it was pleasant! pleasant! Cal sat at his favorite table in the corner of the Mountaineer and brooded. Usually there weren't any empty seats around him, but tonight everybody'd seemed to realize he had a giant mean-on, and they'd given him wide berth. Cal sat at his favorite table in the corner of the Mountaineer and brooded. Usually there weren't any empty seats around him, but tonight everybody'd seemed to realize he had a giant mean-on, and they'd given him wide berth.

No matter how easily she'd dismissed what had happened between them, he knew Professor Rosebud had never had a better lover than she'd had tonight. There'd been none of that nonsense they'd gone through before, with her pushing his hands away. No, sir. He'd had his hands all over her, and she hadn't uttered a single protest.

But what stuck in his craw-what really stuck like a big old chunk of hard-boiled egg-was the fact that he'd just had some of the best s.e.x of his life, and he'd never felt more unsatisfied.

Maybe it was his fault for getting cute. Why hadn't he just grabbed her right there in the house, carried her upstairs, and romanced her in his bed with all the lights on and that big mirror overhead? He could have done his best work there, not that he hadn't been pretty d.a.m.n good tonight, but if they'd been in his bed, he would have seen everything he wanted to see. In duplicate.

He reminded himself this was the third time the two of them had gone at it, but he wasn't any closer to seeing her naked now than he'd been that first night. It was getting to be an obsession. If only he hadn't turned off the dome light, he could have looked his fill, but despite that sa.s.sy mouth of hers, he'd known she was skittish, and he'd wanted her so much he hadn't been thinking straight. Now he had to face the consequences.

He understood his nature well enough to know that the only reason he found himself thinking about her a few thousand times a day was because he still didn't feel as if he'd really made love to her. How could he when he didn't know what she looked like? Once he found out, it'd be over. Instead of growing stronger every day, this attraction he felt toward her would disappear, and he'd be his old self again, ready to roam the fertile fields of dewy young females with flawless faces and sweet temperaments, although he was giving serious consideration to raising his minimum age requirement to twenty-four, since he was getting tired of everybody baiting him.

His thoughts strayed back to the Professor. d.a.m.n, but she was one funny lady. Sharp as a tack, too. Over the years, he'd developed a certain smugness about the fact that he was smarter than most everybody else, but that razor-sharp brain of hers made it hard to sneak much past her. Instead, she marched right alongside him, her brain cells clicking away, matching him step for step and move for move. He could almost feel her peering into every dusty corner of his mind and making a generally accurate a.s.sessment of whatever it was she found there.

"Reliving those three interceptions you threw against the Chiefs last year?"

His head shot up, and he found himself looking into the face of his nightmares. Son of a b.i.t.c.h. Son of a b.i.t.c.h.

Kevin Tucker's lips curled in a c.o.c.ky grin that reminded Cal the kid didn't have to spend thirty minutes standing under a hot shower every morning just to work the kinks out.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

"Heard this is a beautiful part of the country, and I decided to take a look. I rented one of those vacation villas north of town. Nice place."

"You just happened to choose Salvation?"

"Strangest thing. I'd already crossed the city limits before it even occurred to me that this was where you lived. Can't imagine how I forgot that."

"Yeah, I can't imagine."

"Maybe you could show me some of the local sights." Kevin turned toward the bartender. "Sam Adams for me. Get the Bomber here another of whatever he's having."

Cal was drinking club soda, but he hoped Shelby kept her mouth shut about that.

Kevin sat down without an invitation and leaned back in the chair. "I didn't get a chance to congratulate you on your marriage. It sure surprised everybody. You and your new wife must have had a good laugh over the way I took her for a groupie that night she came to your hotel room."

"Oh, yeah, we laughed real hard about that."

"A physicist. I can't get over it. She didn't exactly look like your standard groupie that night, but she sure as h.e.l.l didn't look like a scientist, either."

"Just goes to show."

Shelby brought the drinks over herself and gave Kevin the eye. "I saw you play fourth quarter against the 49ers last year, Mr. Tucker. You looked real good."

"I'm Kevin to you, dollface. And thanks. The old man here taught me everything I know."

Cal bristled, but he could hardly punch Kevin out with Shelby watching. It took her forever to finish flirting with Pretty Boy, but she finally left them alone.

"How 'bout cutting the bulls.h.i.t, Tucker, and tell me why you're really here."

"I already told you. Just a little vacation. Nothing more."

Cal swallowed his fury, knowing the more he pressed, the more satisfaction Tucker'd get out of it. Besides, he had a pretty good idea why Kevin had shown up in Salvation, and he didn't like it one bit. The kid was playing a psych-out game. You can't get away from me, Bonner. Not even during the off-season. I'm here, I'm young, and I'm in your face. You can't get away from me, Bonner. Not even during the off-season. I'm here, I'm young, and I'm in your face.

Cal made his way to the kitchen at eight the next morning. He was in no mood for the nine o'clock meeting Ethan had scheduled with their local state representative so the three of them could discuss the teen drug program, and he wasn't looking forward to the lunch he'd set up with his mother to try and talk some sense into her, but neither could be postponed. Maybe if he'd had more sleep he wouldn't be so out of sorts.

But he knew he couldn't blame his foul mood on either lack of sleep or the stiffness in his joints. It was that s.e.x viper he'd married who was responsible. If she didn't have this compulsion for keeping her clothes on, he'd have slept like a baby last night.

As he walked into the kitchen, he saw Jane sitting at the counter munching some kind of nutritious-looking bagel with honey squeezed on top. For a moment the homeyness of the scene made it hard for him to breathe. This wasn't what he wanted! He didn't want a house and a wife and a kid on the way, especially not with Kevin Tucker holed up five miles away. He wasn't ready for this.

He noticed that the Professor looked as neat as always. Her gold turtleneck was tucked into a pair of khaki slacks that were neither too tight nor too loose, and she'd pulled her hair back with a narrow, tortoise-colored clip-on headband. As usual, she hadn't bothered with much more makeup than a swipe of lipstick. There wasn't one thing s.e.xy about her appearance, so why did she look so delectable to him?

He grabbed a fresh box of Lucky Charms from the pantry, then collected a bowl and spoon. He slapped the milk carton down on the counter with more force than necessary and waited for her to rip into him about the way he'd run off last night. He knew it hadn't exactly been gentlemanly, but she'd hurt his pride. Now he was going to have to pay the price, and the last thing he wanted to hear at eight in the morning was a screaming banshee.

She raised both of her eyebrows over the tops of her gla.s.ses. "Are you still drinking 2 percent milk?"

"Something wrong with that?" He ripped open the cereal box.

"Two percent isn't low-fat milk despite what millions of Americans think. For the sake of your arteries, you should really switch to skimmed, or at least 1 percent."

"And you should really mind your own d.a.m.ned business." The Lucky Charms clattered into his bowl. "When I want your-" He broke off in mid-sentence, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"What's wrong?"

"Will you look at this?"

"My goodness."

He stared incredulously into a mound of dry cereal. All the marshmallows were missing! He saw lots of beige-colored frosted oat cereal, but not a single marshmallow. No multicolored rainbows or green shamrocks, no blue moons or purple horseshoes, not a single yellow whatchamacallit. Not one solitary marshmallow.