Heat Wave Read online

Page 5


  “Cole, I need to get home,” she announced firmly. He stood beside her and placed his palms on her shoulders, the knit sleeves of his blue shirt tightening around his biceps.

  Ignoring the heated touch of his hands, she brought up the subject she had managed to avoid all evening. “I want to take Jack’s balloon home. I don’t want you to buy a new one.”

  “I’ve already told him to buy one and that I’d pay for it. I don’t go back on my word.”

  “You’re making the inevitable more difficult.”

  In a soft voice, he drawled, “Here’s the inevitable—and I’ve waited much too long.”

  Her mouth felt dry while the hammering in her ears almost drowned out the sound of his voice. He reached out, pulling her into his arms. His smile vanished as his voice deepened. ‘This is as certain as the wheat turning gold beneath the Kansas sun.”

  When he leaned down to kiss her, taking her mouth and stopping her mild protest, she knew she had made a mistake. She should have asked him to take her home the moment dinner was over. The thought faded into oblivion, driven away by total awareness of Cole, his mouth, his lean frame.

  He parted her lips, invading her mouth with an assurance that confirmed his words. Why did his kiss have to feel right? So exciting? Finally, she pushed away slightly to whisper, “We shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. Not now. Please …”

  “Shh, witch.” His mouth brushed hers lightly. “No negative statements, no rejection. Not between Us.”

  “Cole, I want this to end, finish. Period.”

  He shook his head. “Impossible. You’re an enchantress, an auburn-haired Circe who’s bewitched me.” Once more his lips feathered over hers, melting her resistance.

  The lightest brush of his mouth was electrifying, tripping the hammers, revving the tiny motors to send steamheat boiling in her blood. His lips pressed hers eagerly, parting them to give him access to her mouth. She was held fast in his arms while his tongue demanded her response, the sweet, fiery clash that raised temperatures instantly.

  His lips trailed kisses to her throat, overwhelming her. Her bones melted. Her lashes dropped as she sought his lips for another incredible kiss that would sweep her beyond logic.

  While one strong arm held her about the waist, the fingertips of his other hand drifted across her neck, over her bare shoulder, down, down across the thin cotton covering her breast.

  She gasped and twisted. “Cole, leave me some peace! I don’t want this …”

  “You don’t want my mouth here?” His lips brushed the soft curve of her full breast. He held her still while his fingers trailed lower over her hip. Kiss for kiss, input matched output. She couldn’t stop. Throbbing sensation was sending the voltage to dangerous levels.

  His mouth, his hands, made her tingling body clamor for attention. Steadily, his wandering fingers and fiery kisses were overloading her system, obliterating every thought for survival. She had known from the start, from the first tempestuous kiss, that she was lost to him.

  It had been so long since she had been passionately loved. She was achingly vulnerable and she knew it, but the knowledge was useless. She felt ambushed, unable or unwilling to protest.

  He held her close, leaning over, bending her body under his. His long legs pressed against hers and she felt his maleness. One hand roamed up the curve of her spine, caressing, sliding down to the small of her back. His fingers moved slowly to the nape of her neck, massaging her lightly, starting a shower of fire.

  “Cole, I don’t know you. …” she agonized.

  “Hush, woman. This is magic, it’s fire meeting fire. We complete each other. …”

  Shifting her in his arms, he kissed her again. One of his hands brushed across her breast, caressing a taut peak. She arched her back instinctively at his touch and whimpered, the sound muffled by his mouth on hers.

  Cole, almost a stranger, became something else, someone needed, another part of herself. The breathtaking hunger he had awakened escalated to an urgency that made her writhe. His rough fingertips slipped beneath a thin strap, sliding it over her shoulder, pushing the green cotton down carefully, his gaze following the material.

  Closing her eyes, she tilted her head, her hair swinging lightly over her bare shoulders as his fingers slipped the other strap down with slow deliberation. The faintest rustle of material drifted over her trembling body as he pushed the sundress to her waist, baring her breasts to his appreciative gaze. His forefinger and thumb teased her hardened nipple, then his mouth sought her breast. His dark brown hair brushed against her, its softness tormenting while his tongue abolished her reluctance.

  The chemistry of attraction between them was volatile. Overpowered with desire, she felt weak in the knees. Never in her life had a man been able to arouse her so swiftly, so completely. He rained kisses over her tender, pale breasts, across her throat while his hands continued stroking her, caressing her back, the nape of her neck.

  All rational thought was gone. She was swept into a vortex of passion. Urgency racked her, intensifying to desperate longing. Her hips arched against him.

  “That’s it, Marilee,” Cole murmured. “Touch me, love me.”

  Sliding her hands over his strong back and powerful muscles, she traced his sharp shoulder blades, roving down to his narrow waist. “Cole …” she began.

  “Shh, honey. You’re a golden girl. You have a warm, golden body. With your beautiful red hair you’re like a goddess, a sorceress. So lovely, so desirable.”

  Each word was a stroke, smoothing away loneliness, erasing disappointment and fear, heightening an emotional need that was as strong as the physical. “Pure nonsense,” she managed to whisper, even as she clung to him. “You’re ridiculous. I’m a plain, ordinary schoolteacher.”

  He kissed her throat. “Something happens between us when we touch, you know that.” In the silvery moonlight his blue eyes held her spellbound while he whispered, “This is destiny. I’m never here at this time of year. How often have you crashed a balloon?”

  He didn’t wait for her to answer. His mouth conquered her protests his plundering tongue making her senses clamor for more. Ablaze, she returned his kisses with unbridled eagerness, her tongue meeting his. Hot, intimate, each clash set wild tingles racing.

  Her response was primordial, timeless. Craving exploded, spreading its fury, compelling her to yield. He moved away briefly to pull his shirt over his head and drop it on the ground. Moonlight splashed across his dark chest, highlighting his muscled shoulders, the powerful biceps. He bent his head to kiss her breast, cupping it gently in his large hand.

  She groaned in anguish. “We mustn’t do this!”

  “Of course not,” he breathed over her bare midriff. Singeing forays of his tongue built a conflagration that burned insistently.

  Like candlelight in a blizzard, her protests were suddenly extinguished. His fingers pushed down the sundress. He knelt, slacks pulling tautly over his knees and thighs while his hands rested on her hips, holding her.

  She swayed as his intense gaze took in all of her golden body, especially the blurred triangle of red-gold curls, half-hidden by her flimsy white lace panties. The sight of his dark hands on her pale skin enflamed her beyond reason. It didn’t matter that she scarcely knew Cole Chandler, that he was in her life only temporarily, that he could hurt her. She wanted him … now.

  “You know this is special,” he said as if in answer to her thoughts. He spoke with a breathlessness that made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world for him.

  Rising, he wrapped his arms around her to kiss her again, his mouth reaffirming his words, heightening her desire.

  His furred chest met her sensitive breasts, making her draw a deep breath. He swept her into his arms then laid her down on the chaise. In a lithe movement he stretched out beside her and pulled her against his hard length. She was drowning in sensation and mindlessly wrapped her arms around him.

  In the moonlight his
blue eyes devoured her. His lower lip was full and sensuous, red from her kisses. “Have you ever, with any other man, felt what you feel with me?” he demanded huskily.

  She didn’t want to admit the truth. Her reaction to him wasn’t logical … but it was real. She felt the magnetism between them in every pore. While she mulled it over, the burning desire in his eyes made her ache. He didn’t have to touch her to get a response, to have a devastating effect on her.

  Persisting, he said, “Answer me, Marilee. I want to hear you say it. I already see the answer in your eyes. When I look at your mouth, your lips part. You respond to me just as I do to you.”

  “I shouldn’t,” she whispered, even as her skin tingled whenever it was pressed against his own naked flesh.

  “Ah, yes. And I respond to you. You look at my mouth like you just did and I feel as though I’m going to burst with my need for you. I can’t stop now. Together, we’re extraordinary. The passion that explodes between us when we touch is fabulous. It is to me.”

  “You’re not fair,” she said breathlessly. “You’ve cheated me, blackmailed me into dinner …”

  He brushed her lips with his.

  Ignoring the scalding sensation of his mouth, she turned her head to continue the charges. “You’re seducing me …”

  “You like this.”

  “You won’t listen …”

  She gasped, her fingers biting into his shoulder as he kissed her throat.

  “I’m listening to every word. Tell me you don’t want this, honey.” His head drooped forward to kiss the valley between her breasts.

  “Cole, oh please!”

  His gaze locked with hers. He sat up and tugged off his boots, his socks. He rose, unfastening his heavy silver belt buckle. She felt unable to move as she watched each unhurried movement of his hands. He unfastened the dark slacks, letting them fall, revealing his unforgettable body, bronzed, muscled, so male. A triangle of black underwear was peeled away. Cole was as nude as when she first saw him, only now he was fully aroused, ready for her.

  She longed to reach out, to touch his smooth copper flesh. Her fingertips, as if of their own volition, drifted over a solid, hard thigh, through short, curling hairs. She heard him gasp as he sank down, stretching out to pull her against him. One arm pinned her to him as his mouth seized hers.

  His hand began stroking her long, silky legs, making her writhe with uncontrollable desire. His fingers traveled over her intimately, exploring her moist warmth. She gasped, crying a muffled protest as his bold fingers moved insidiously to arouse her to a frenzied peak.

  And then he brought her over the brink, beyond the point of return. There were no more protests, no denials. She was consumed with a yearning for him, a desperate longing to encompass his hard male body.

  Her kisses conveyed her frantic urgency, driving him to the edge of turbulent desire. Before his lovemaking had been devastating; now it was like wildfire. Her restraint burned away like flaming dry leaves. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him forever.

  “Ahh, sweet witch, you’re magic to me! I can’t get enough. I want to make you want me as badly as I do you.”

  “Cole!” She squirmed with ravenous hunger and he eased her onto her back.

  She was aware of the rough canvas of the chaise against her bare skin while she watched wide-eyed as Cole moved over her. Locks of his brown hair hung on his forehead and his temples. A sheen of perspiration made his skin glow. With each movement, the muscles in his back rippled beneath her hands. His knee pushed her legs apart and he came down above her, holding his weight off her.

  Her limbs felt heavy. She quivered with undisguised longing, wanting him, needing him beyond anything she imagined possible. Every brush against his strong arms, his flat stomach, made her desire him more. Leaning down, he kissed her hotly while she arched her hips to receive him.

  Penetration made her cry out, a muffled sound smothered by his kiss. He continued relentlessly, taking her in strokes that carried them both on a rising current of sensation. The first moment of pain had disappeared and ecstasy burst within her. Pleasure and need were one, generating a hot flood of passion.

  “Now, little green-eyed witch …” Cole said, his lips on her ear. “Now, I’ll make you mine …”

  She barely heard him. No longer did she have five senses, but only one—touch. All the others converged into total awareness of Cole and his possession of her.

  She clung to his powerful frame, her fingers spread across his back, pulling him to her. Her slender legs held him tightly as the fervor that bound them heightened.

  Rapture rippled, then surged through her like ocean waves. She wanted to give all of herself to him, to be complete with him. She could feel herself exploding in a sunburst of sensation.

  Cole gasped. “Luv, now!” Shudders racked him, then a spasm gripped his body.

  She and Cole were one, forged together in passion. Sheer bliss blossomed, assuaging her body’s craving, satisfying her. Held in his strong arms, she was filled with joy, physically satiated, at peace with Cole. But as she lay beneath him, possessed by him, she was aware of an inexorable, invisible change.

  In these intimate moments she had given him a part of herself and in return he had shown her a depth of pleasure she hadn’t known existed.

  He collapsed heavily on her and sanity began to return. Like a cat on a dark night, awareness of danger crept over her, silently, without warning.

  Cole kissed her throat, then shifted to lay beside her. When he moved away, her skin felt cool. Perspiration bathed them both.

  While he settled his arm behind her head and lay quietly, she gazed up at the dark leaves of a sycamore. A branch spread overhead and the moonlight through the leaves dappled their bodies.

  She felt languorous, but also dazed, stunned by Cole’s seduction. If the balloon had slammed to earth in a wheat field today instead of Cole’s pool, she wondered if she would have felt any more stupefied than she did at the moment.

  She was reluctant to move or rise or think. Cole reached out to smooth her hair away from her face. His fingers were gentle, soothing.

  He leaned forward and kissed her lips, her cheek, her temple. “You’re beautiful. You’re wonderful, little green-eyed witch. You’ve charmed me.”

  She turned her head to study him. He lay with one dark leg thrown over hers, his tanned muscular right arm wrapped around her middle. His blue eyes were half-closed. It was a sin for a man to have lashes that curled so beautifully, she thought. Her glance moved to his lips, then shifted away quickly. His finger trailed along her chin to her ear.

  Like a delayed bomb, reaction began to set in. A tiny seed of worry sprouted and grew faster than Jack’s beanstalk.

  How could she have let him make love to her! How could she have succumbed to his seductive kisses after his somber warning, “I’m not the marrying kind.” The past hour meant little to him!

  In a husky voice he said, “You’re quiet. What’s going on behind those green eyes? Honey, that was magic. You’ve wound me around your little finger.”

  She listened in silence. What on earth had happened to her? She thought of his kisses, his intimate exploration of her, her wild responses to him, and felt waves of heat scald her.

  A treacherous little voice reminded her how deliciously marvelous his lovemaking had been. She hadn’t struggled with him. He hadn’t used force.

  While she fought a battle within herself, he continued caressing her, murmuring endearments that she paid no attention to.

  He caught her chin and turned her to face him. “You’re mighty quiet.”

  “I’m just thinking.”

  In the moonlit darkness he gazed at her solemnly, his blue eyes filled with concern. “Don’t have regrets. That was a beginning between us. From now on, I won’t rush you.”

  From now on? Did he think this would be a habit? But then, why wouldn’t he think so, after her enthusiastic yielding?
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br />   “Honey, don’t frown. It was too good for regrets.”

  She hated to admit just how good it had been. She was shocked by her actions. Never in her entire life had she acted so out of character. Never had she thrown aside everything, yielding with complete abandon to emotion and passion. Not until Cole Chandler.

  She wasn’t angry; she was aghast. How could she have allowed it?

  “Marilee, luv. Would you please say something. Anything. Are you angry with me?”

  She barely heard his question. She wanted to get up and pull on her clothes, get away from him. She wasn’t accustomed to men. Even in the shadowy night, the thought of parading nude beneath Cole Chandler’s watchful eyes sent shivers down her spine.

  Softly, he said, “Yoo hoo, Marilee. Remember me?”

  “How in hell could I forget you?”

  “Uh oh. You are angry. Luv, that was—”

  “I know, just marvelous.”

  He caught her firmly by the shoulders and looked at her intently. “It was unique, a beginning for us. I’m sorry if I rushed you. You caught me off guard …”

  That was the hammer dropping on the percussion cap. Marilee’s anger exploded. She sat up and swung her long legs off the chaise. “I caught you off guard!”

  She stood up, hating the embarrassment of rising naked before him. Why did she have to be a redhead and so susceptible to blushes? Even in the dark, she knew he could see her pale flesh turning pink. Where had he thrown her clothes? She looked around frantically.

  “Here, honey.”

  He sat up on the chaise and held a bit of lace out to her.

  She felt sure she blushed from her ankles to her forehead as she snatched her white bikini panties from him. She balanced on one foot, stepping into the scanty lace as she glanced up at him. One arm casually on his knee, one long muscular leg stretching before him, he was watching her with a heavy-lidded gaze.

  “You could have the grace to turn your head!” she snapped.