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told him that. "I wasn't sure what you would have done to my stepfather if I'd told you," she continued. "I didn't want you to hurt him and get in trouble with the law. I figured I got off lucky. Anyway, it taught me not to trust men. And later on, I had a very bad reaction to boys who tried to grab me or get too intimate with me." She managed a faint smile. "A couple of my dates in college got a little out of hand. I hurt one of them, with one of those defenses you taught me. After that, nobody wanted to go out with me. The therapist said that even with the sessions, it might take time for me to trust a man enough to let him make love to me completely. The memories I have of intimacy are warped and sickening, and there's still some guilt there. I should have run away sooner...." "Don't." She looked up at him. His voice was harsh, choked with anger. "You have to know this," she said firmly. "I can't talk to anyone else about it, least of all to your mother. When you kiss me, I get hot all over. I want you closer than I can get to you. I love it when your body swells against me and I know I caused it. But it's never been more than that between us." She smoothed back her loosened hair. "It was funny that you believed I'd slept with Colby, although I'm sorry it made you hit him for something he didn't do." She glanced at him with a rueful smile. "I don't know if I can function sexually. Not even with you. " He stuck his hands into the pockets of his slacks. In the silence of the room, she heard the faint jingle of loose coins as he touched them. "I wish you'd told me this before." "It wouldn't have changed anything." "Maybe not. But talking about wounds can help heal them." "You don't talk about yours," she pointed out. He sat down on the sofa facing her and leaned forward. "But I do," he said seriously. "I talk to you. I've never told anyone else about the way my father treated us. That's a deeply personal thing. I don't share it. I can't share it with anyone but you." "I'm part of your life," she said heavily, smoothing her hair back again. "Neither of us can help that. You were my comfort when Mama died, my very salvation when my stepfather hurt me. But I can't expect you to go on taking care of me. I'm twenty- five years old, Tate. I have to let go of you." "No, you don't." He caught her wrists and pulled her closer. He was more solemn than she'd ever seen him. "I'm tired of fighting it. Let's find out how deep your scars go. Come to bed with me, Cecily. I know enough to make it easy for you. " She stared at him blankly. "Tate..." She touched his lean cheek hesitantly. He was offering her paradise, if she could face her own demons in bed with him. "This will only make things worse, whatever happens." "You want me," he said gently. "And I want you. Let's get rid of the ghosts. If you can get past the fear, I won't have anyone else from now on except you. I'll come to you when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when the world falls on me. I'll lie in your arms and comfort you when you're sad, when you're frightened. You can come to me when you need to be held, when you need me. I'll cherish you." "And you'll make sure I never get pregnant." His face tautened. "You know how I feel about that. I've never made a secret of it. I won't compromise on that issue, ever." She touched his long hair, thinking how beautiful he was, how beloved. Could she live with only a part of him, watch him leave her one day to marry another woman? If he never knew the truth about his father, he might do that. She couldn't tell him about Matt Holden, even to insure her own happiness. He glanced at her, puzzled by the expression on her face. "I'll be careful," he said. "And very slow. I won't hurt you, in any way." "Colby might come back...." He shook his head. "No. He won't." He stood up, pulling her with him. He saw the faint indecision in her face. "I won't ask for more than you can give me," he said quietly. "If you only want to lie in my arms and be kissed, that's what we'll do." She looked up into his dark eyes and an unsteady sigh passed her lips. "I would give... anything... to let you love me," she said huskily. "For eight long years...!" His mouth covered the painful words, stilling them. He delighted in her immediate response. Even without knowing the whole truth of her traumatic experience, he'd wondered sometimes if she'd ever be capable of complete intimacy. He'd worried about it, because some men were insensitive with women. Such a man would have scarred her permanently. He wouldn't. Even if she wasn't capable of giving herself completely he was going to make her first intimacy a joyful experience. He smiled as he felt her mouth open under his, with more enthusiasm than experience. Yes, she wanted him. That was the first step. She felt the smile and drew back, her wide eyes meeting his anxiously. "We're all beginners once," he said gently. His lean hands framed her face and he searched her eyes warmly. His mouth brushed lightly, teasingly, over hers, nibbling at first her upper lip and then her lower one with lazy pleasure. His thumb drew over the corner of her mouth, feeling the kisses sensuously as he coaxed her to relax against him. Her fingers had a tight grip on his shirtfront. She hung at his lips, feeding on the slow, sensual tracing of his mouth in the silence of the living room. His hands left her face to smooth over her shoulders and down her back, bringing her slowly against his taut body. The touch of her hips against his had a predictable effect and his breath drew in at the impact of it. She moved away to look at his face, seeing the new rigidity in it, the flare of his narrowed eyes. He didn't seem to be teasing now. She could feel a faint tremor in his powerful body as his head bent to hers again. His lean hands pulled a little roughly at her hips, dragging them against his while his mouth began to devour hers with kisses that were no longer playful. This, she thought dazedly, was pure seduction. Even if she'd never experienced it before, she recognized the skill that drove it. She moaned as new sensations began to ripple through her untouched body. Her hands contracted. She began to lift toward him, encouraging the fierce hands that were moving her hips sensually against the hard thrust of him. She went on her toes to prolong the contact, shivering as she felt the first wave of desire send a tremor through her. His hands pressed her closer while he deepened the kiss. He could hear her heartbeat. She was gasping, moaning, sobbing under the ardor of his mouth. He smoothed his hands under her blouse and around her, slowly tracing the slope of her breasts before he eased steadily toward the hard peaks with his thumbs. She moaned again and her arms went up around his neck, pulling, pleading, her mouth answering his kisses with utter submission. He bit her lower lip and lifted his mouth a fraction of an inch away to look into her eyes. She looked feverish, so completely yielded that he could have her where she stood. "If you want me to stop, tell me now." She couldn't think, could barely breathe. The main thing, she thought dazedly, was that he mustn't stop. "Don'(...stop," she choked. Her body trembled as she tried to drag his mouth back over her swollen lips. "I love you," she whimpered. He groaned harshly as he kissed her again. He lifted her like priceless glass, and carried her down the hall to the guest room she occupied, pausing just long enough to kick the door shut and reach down to lock it. She lay on the quilted coverlet in the tiny room, vibrating with sensations she'd never felt before while he stood over her and slowly stripped the clothing from his powerful body. Then he stood beside the bed, letting her look at him, indulging her curiosity about the raging arousal that even a virgin couldn't mistake. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |