Sliding his fingers inside the elastic band of her pajama bottoms, he pushed them down her thighs. His jeans were rough against her exquisitely tender skin, the ridge beneath his zipper almost painfully hard. She moved again, pressing herself against him, and was delighted to wring a low moan from him. Trent was always so firmly in control of his emotions. She took a great deal of satisfaction in shaking that control a bit—especially since he was totally destroying her own.
By the time they had shed their remaining garments and were tangled naked together in the sheets, Annie couldn’t have spoken a coherent word if she tried. She relied on silent language to express herself, using her hands, her lips and the movements of her body to let him know exactly how special he made her feel. She knew it had been a while since he’d been this close to anyone, but if he had any doubt, any insecurity about making love with her, he certainly didn’t let it show.
She loved kissing him. He had the most beautiful mouth she’d ever seen on a man, and she wanted to taste and explore every centimeter of it. He cooperated completely, allowing her total access. She took full advantage of his generosity.
She was absently aware of the few concessions he made for his unreliable back, and she took care not to put any stress on him. The experience was still as spectacular as she had predicted. It wasn’t so much the way he touched her—it was the way she responded that made their lovemaking so unique. She’d never reacted so forcefully to another man’s touch, had never cared so very deeply that his pleasure was as intense as her own. She’d never felt this powerful mixture of hunger, passion and tenderness.
It was who he was that made the difference. Trent McBride, the complex, unpredictable, flawed, but very special man who had stolen her heart so stealthily that she had never had a chance to defend herself. One day he’d been an enigmatic stranger, and the next he had been someone whose welfare mattered desperately to her. At least it seemed to have happened that quickly.
And now, she thought gravely, gazing up at him as he leaned over her, he was her lover. At least for this one night.
“You look so serious,” he murmured, his voice a rough growl. “Second thoughts?”
“None,” she assured him. She had concerns about the future, but no doubt at all that she wanted to stay exactly where she was for now.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” he reminded her, though every muscle in his body was taut with need, his eyes glittered with suppressed emotion that seemed near explosion and his arms quivered as they supported his weight above her. Every solid inch of him was ready for release, and he had already sheathed himself in the protection she had provided. But still he hesitated long enough to make sure she wanted him to continue.
This from a man who insisted there was nothing sweet about him, she thought with a tender smile. “I haven’t changed my mind. Please don’t stop now. I couldn’t bear it.”
He didn’t smile in return, but she thought his expression showed relief. He crushed her mouth beneath his and moved against her, teasing her with shallow probes that only stoked her hunger for him. Restlessly, she lifted her hips, silently urging him to take her, but still he held back, offering only a taste of the pleasure to come.
“Now,” she whispered, her fingers digging into his back, trying to press him closer. “Please.”
He taunted her with another too-shallow thrust. “Better?” he murmured, his mouth curved against hers.
She groaned and raised her knees in an effort to force him deeper. “More.”
His hand moved on her thigh, then slid to the inside, his fingertips lightly brushing against skin so tender and sensitized she gasped and quivered. Her fingers curled, her nails pressing into the pliant skin of his back. “Now,” she insisted again.
“Do you want me, Annie?”
It seemed an odd question, particularly now when she was all but begging him, but she answered without hesitation. “Yes. Oh, Trent, yes.”
Maybe he’d only wanted to hear her say the words. Maybe he had needed to hear her say his name. Whatever the reason, her broken whisper made him surge forward, filling her so deeply and completely that for a fleeting moment she wasn’t sure she could handle all of him. But it didn’t take her long to decide that they fit together perfectly.
Trent’s back muscles rippled beneath her palms as he began to move. She sensed when his control broke, when instinct and passion took over. He wasn’t teasing now, and he couldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t as lost in passion as she was. His breathing was harsh and uneven in her ears, his skin slick and damp with perspiration. She could only close her eyes and hold on, throwing herself into the whirlwind.
He murmured something against her ear. It might have been her name. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could hardly hear over it.
Release came in a burst of sensation so intense it temporarily blocked all her other senses. She heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing—except Trent. And she didn’t care at that moment if she never came back to reality.
A LONG TIME PASSED before Annie was mentally coherent enough to think about what had happened, and to try to analyze her feelings. Only then was she able to pinpoint what had always been missing for her before.
She felt…complete, she mused, lying in Trent’s arms. For the first time in her life she felt as though she was exactly where she belonged. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on the possibility that tonight might be the only time she would ever feel this way.
Her stunned paralysis seemed to last a very long time. But eventually she was able to turn her head to study the man in her bed. Trent sprawled heavily beside her, his chest rising and falling with his irregular breathing. He lay flat on his back, one arm beneath her, his other hand resting on his damp chest. He looked comfortable enough, she decided. No apparent repercussions from their exertion. He actually looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him, she thought with a satisfied smile.
“You’re staring at me again,” he murmured without opening his eyes.
Her smile deepened as a happy, mischievous mood took over. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty.”
He opened his eyes with a mild curse. “Would you stop saying things like that? Sweet. Pretty. You make me sound like a damn pansy.”
She couldn’t help giggling. It was so typical of Trent to make love to her one minute and snarl at her the next. And for some crazy, inexplicable reason, she simply adored him.
“Trust me, Trent, I have no doubt that you are one-hundred-percent, red-blooded male,” she assured him. “I just like t
o watch you scowl when I use those words.”