His hands moved along her rib cage, holding her tenderly just above him. The feel of her flesh in his hands blended with the taste of her breast moving with each breath against his tongue to explode his mind in senses.
He sampled her fully, enjoying the way she paused timidly but didn’t turn away. Her heart quickened as he circled her flesh with his mouth while he stroked her sides with his hands.
A sigh escaped her. She leaned away long enough to offer him the other breast. As his mouth savored new flesh, his hand crossed over her damp breast and the warmth of his palm pushed slightly into her softness.
Fire shot through her, jolting her with a pleasure she never dreamed existed.
She pulled away suddenly, drawing back from indulgence into too much joy. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sat in the center of the bed.
‘‘What’s wrong?’’ Wes rubbed his face as though he too were being dropped too quickly into reality. He rose beside her.
‘‘Nothing.’’ She looked down. ‘‘I just never felt anything like that before. I never knew anyone, anywhere could feel like you make me feel just now.’’ She closed her eyes, trying to force her thoughts into words. ‘‘I’m burning up inside. You give me such great pleasure and ask nothing in return. It is not a fair bargain.’’
Wes laughed and brushed her hair over her shoulder. ‘‘You don’t understand. It is you who bring me great pleasure.’’ His arm slipped around her shoulder. He pulled her with him to the pillows. ‘‘I thought you knew.’’ He couldn’t believe she thought he was somehow giving her joy when he felt nothing.
He didn’t wait to be asked this time. He rolled on his side and kissed her. As his tongue parted her lips, his hand moved over her breast, warming her with his touch.
When she was breathless, he broke the kiss. ‘‘It’s you who, by allowing me to touch and taste such beauty, pleases me.’’ He had to make her understand. ‘‘You let me feel paradise in my hand. I’ll be happy to touch you whenever you like, I swear.’’
As she relaxed in his arms, his kisses grew deeper, his touch bolder. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest. His actions went from being smooth and practiced to being suddenly jerky.
He stopped, burying his face in the pillow.
‘‘Again,’’ she ordered, holding him to his word. She had not had her fill of this pleasure. ‘‘Touch me, please.’’
Swearing beneath his breath, he rolled onto his back and forced himself not to look at her.
Allie leaned against him. The top of her camisole had disappeared amidst the covers. ‘‘Is it over? You will do no more? I thought you enjoyed it. More, please.’’
Wes didn’t look at her. ‘‘There is more, Allie, far more. Other places I can touch you. Other places I’d like to touch you.’’
‘‘But I like this.’’
‘‘Yes, but there is more to what we’re doing.’’ Wes took in air as if knowledge would somehow come with it. He was a fighter, never a lover. How was he supposed to explain the facts of life to a woman walking around with the most perfectly built body he’d ever seen, much less touched? How could he tell her that her polite begging for more was driving him insane?
‘‘How? Where would you touch?’’
Without a word, he moved his hand from her chest down. As his fingers slipped over the thin cotton of her underwear and pressed between her legs, she understood.
Allie shoved herself from the bed as if the covers were afire. ‘‘No!’’ She picked up her dress and held it over her, ashamed of him seeing her for the first time. ‘‘No!’’
Wes felt like an idiot. There must have been some other way to tell her. Maybe he could have just kept kissing her and touching her until it happened. No, that didn’t make sense. At some point, she’d become frightened and he’d be so far lost in the paradise of her body he might accidentally scare her before he could stop.
‘‘Allie. It’s a part of loving. As much a part as the kissing and touching. It’s what man and wife do.’’
‘‘No!’’ she screamed. ‘‘Never! You will never touch me there!’’ Tears fell unchecked. ‘‘I know the pain. Never!’’
She looked at him with hate and fear and terror back in her eyes. As if she might bolt and run. As if she might pull her knife and try to kill him at any moment. As if she wished him dead.
‘‘Allie.’’ He fought his own battles. They’d come so far, and now they were back to where they started. ‘‘ Allie. Have I ever hurt you?’’
‘‘No,’’ she answered.
‘‘Do you trust me? Do you sleep beside me and know that I will bring you no harm?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘Then trust me now. I’ll do nothing until you are ready. Until you want it. Until it’s the right time.’’ He made himself relax on the bed, even though every part of his body wanted to grab her and pull her to him and make her understand.
‘‘Now, get back in bed,’’ he ordered in a far gruffer tone than he meant. ‘‘There is nothing to be afraid of.’’
She didn’t move for a long while. Then slowly, she placed her dress back in place over the chair and slipped into the bed. She spread out beside him no longer soft and ready for his embrace, but stiff and cold as stone.
‘‘It will never be the right time,’’ she finally said. ‘‘You will never touch me there.’’
‘‘Go to sleep.’’ Wes locked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.Neversuddenly took on a sound lonelier than any he’d ever heard.
TWENTY-ONE
WES PACED THE TEN-FOOT WIDOW’S WALK ON THEroof above the second floor. He could see for miles across the rolling land and anyone out there could probably see him.
‘‘Go ahead and shoot me,’’ he mumbled toward the open range. ‘‘I’m too much a fool to live.’’
Ten minutes ago he’d walked away from a beautiful woman sleeping almost nude next to him. At the rate things were going, he’d probably never sleep again. There must be a kind of madness that comes with never resting. But he couldn’t lie in bed with Allie and not touch her. And if he touched her, he’d want more. And if he took more, she’d hate him. And if she hated him, she wouldn’t have to kill him, he’d kill himself. After, of course, Victoria’s aging army took turns shooting him.
Wes got dizzy thinking about it.
He looked out onto land withering in winter. ‘‘Shoot me now and save air!’’ he yelled. ‘‘Go ahead! Take your time and aim. Make sure you hit my heart, because God knows I don’t have a brain. A bullet to the skull would just rattle around in a vacant shell.’’ What kind of man explains the art of loving by putting his hand between a woman’s legs?
He should have said… oh, hell, what difference did it make what he should have said? At least she hadn’t wasted words. She’d told him exactly what wasnotgoing to happen in their relationship.
He was madder than hell and so proud of her at the same time. A few weeks ago, she would have done anything he said, no matter how much it hurt her. But she’d found the pride this morning to tell him what she wanted and didn’t want. The tiny little half-pint of a woman was growing stronger by the minute. But instead of thanking him for her newfound courage, she was threatening him. The woman had no gratitude in her soul.
He paced, telling himself he was never meant for love. She needed someone different. Someone sensitive. Someone patient. Not a soldier. A loner. A man who’s grumpy on his good days. Even when he’d paid women, he couldn’t remember thinking he’d been all that great a lover. And now he’d tried to teach Allie. If it weren’t so ridiculous, it might be humorous.
Wes told himself that he was the kind of man who did best with a woman of the night. A woman he didn’t feel the need to remember her name. He wasn’t made to have to think about anything but the business at hand. He didn’t want to feel in his heart.
He couldn’t teach her of the art between a woman and a man. He’d never taken the time to learn. Somehow, he missed that lesson in school, or life, or wherever a man is supposed to learn how to make love to a woman. It was obvious he’d missed them, he didn’t even know where the lessons were taught.
