Out of guilt? Or a connection that could never be broken, no matter how much Cruz wanted it to?
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. I’m fine.”
He didn’t look fine. He looked…sad.
He stood and passed C.C. to her. “I have work to do.”
Then he was gone.
THAT NIGHT LEXI paced restlessly in the bedroom. She couldn’t forget Cruz’s story. Knowing it explained so much. She could see the evolution from that scared and angry boy to the man he’d become. No wonder no one got close. No wonder he wanted acceptance. Maybe everyone was broken in one way or another.
She heard footsteps in the hallway, then the bedroom door opened. Cruz stood there, silent. Waiting.
She’d worked through a thousand excuses. Exhaustion, her period, headaches. She’d done her best to protect herself, to stay clear of him because she knew the danger of being in his bed. Of what he could do to her body and how difficult it would be for her to separate herself emotionally from any physical connection.
She knew all the reasons they shouldn’t and not one of them mattered at that moment. Not when she’d seen a side of him she’d never imagined. She could resist a powerful man, but one who was vulnerable? Apparently not.
She crossed to him, raised herself on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CRUZ RESPONDED immediately, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that stole her breath and weakened her bones.
His mouth was firm, determined, yet he didn’t bruise as he deepened the kiss. Tongues tangled. He tasted of sex and Scotch and she couldn’t get enough of him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, as much to hang on as to be next to him. His hands roamed her body, touching, arousing, exploring. She wore a lace nightgown and panties, nothing more. But even the delicate silk was too much of a barrier. She wanted skin on skin. She wanted what he had done to her all those years ago-when he’d made love with her on a wild summer night, changing her forever.
That was the reason she’d resisted, the reason she’d needed to protect herself by avoiding him in bed. Because of who she was when she was with him that way. Their first night together had been amazing, but her own reaction had frightened her. Since then, she’d managed to keep control, but could she with Cruz?
He was all hard muscle. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, her nipples already hard and aching. As he slid his hands down to her rear, she pushed her hips against him and felt his erection.
Now, she thought frantically. She wanted him now. She wanted him to shove her up against the wall and take her. She wanted her legs spread, his body filling hers. She wanted him to claim her, mark her and leave her shaken.
It had never been like this with anyone else. She’d always preferred gentle lovemaking. The familiar, the comfortable. A polite dance to completion. Andrew had once complained she was too much the ice princess in bed. But not with Cruz.
Without thinking, she clamped her lips around his tongue and sucked. His erection surged. She squirmed to get closer, to get them closer to the next step. She wanted it all and she wanted it now.
He pulled back enough to kiss his way down her jaw. His open-mouthed kisses along her neck made her shiver. Liquid heat poured through her. She was already swollen and close enough to be desperate. She dug her fingers into his shoulders even as she pulled at the fabric of his shirt.
He straightened. Passion darkened his eyes. His breathing was fast and deep, just like hers. Gazes locked, he grabbed the thin straps of her nightgown and tugged them down until her breasts were exposed. Then he bent his head and took one of her nipples in his mouth.
The exquisite pleasure, the feel of his mouth sucking and licking and tugging, made her gasp. She grabbed his head to hold him in place. More, she thought desperately. She needed more.
He used his fingers on her other breast, mimicking the movement, pleasing her. Tension grew as did her need. Hunger made her desperate.
He dropped to his knees, pulling at her nightgown as he went. The fabric ripped. He jerked down her panties, leaving her naked. Then he was urging her legs apart.
She was still standing in the middle of the bedroom. To be taken like this was so unlike her, but moving to the bed was impossible. She spread her legs and tried to brace herself for the erotic onslaught of his mouth. Even knowing what he was going to do didn’t keep her from gasping when he parted her with his fingers, then pressed his tongue against her most sensitive spot.
He licked every part of her before setting up a steady rhythm designed to have her screaming inside of a minute. She pushed against him, wanting all he could give her. Her legs shook and she didn’t care. She caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror, totally naked, legs spread, Cruz between them, and she didn’t care about that, either. There was only the man and what he did to her body.
He seemed to know exactly what she was feeling. He moved faster and harder, quickly pushing her toward her orgasm. She wanted to hold back, to enjoy the moment, to savor it. She felt her body straining.
Her eyes closed. He shoved first one, then two fingers inside of her. At the same time he sucked her sensitive center and she was lost.
She came with a cry she tried to hold in but couldn’t. She shook and shuddered, lost in the perfect sensations. He slowed but didn’t stop until she did.
Then they were moving as he half carried, half pushed her onto the bed. Still lost in her release, she barely noticed him shove down his jeans and briefs. She caught a glimpse of his impressive erection, then he knelt between her thighs and pushed inside.
He filled her as if they’d been made for each other. She had to stretch to take him, but not so much that it hurt. He braced himself on the mattress, his eyes locked on hers, their bodies moving together.
It didn’t take long for his steady pumping to arouse her again. She wrapped her legs around his hips to pull him in deeper with each thrust. Faster, she thought, giving herself over to the feel of him sliding in and out of her. Faster and harder.
“More,” she whispered. “Don’t hold back.”
He hesitated for a second, then pushed in with more force.
He hit exactly the right spot. That one place that only he had found so many years ago. Tingling tension spiraled, promising another release-this one even better than the one before. She reached for him, grabbing him, wanting to feel it again.
He pressed in and she pushed down.
Then he pulled out and she nearly wept. He couldn’t stop now.
But before she could protest, he was on his back and she was on top of him. He guided her onto his arousal. She slid down and found herself exactly where she wanted to be.
She rode him up and down, bringing herself closer and closer. He had his hands on her hips, guiding her. She closed her eyes, not wanting to watch him watch her. She supposed she should worry about how she looked, what she was doing. Only it felt too good. Then she was coming, and he groaned and the pleasure went on and on until she knew it didn’t matter if she died right that moment. Nothing could ever be better than this.
LEXI TOOK LONGER than she needed in the bathroom. She was more than a little embarrassed about how un- inhibited the lovemaking had been. No ice princess here, she thought as she washed her face, then reached for a towel.
But instead of touching soft terry cloth, she felt warm skin. Cruz handed her the towel. She dried her face, then looked at him.
He had taken off his clothes and changed into a plain, white robe. He managed to look both satisfied and predatory, which was an impressive combination.
“You were taking a while,” he said. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine.” Which was almost true.
