Текст книги "Until You"

Автор книги: Jeannie Moon

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Chapter 2

‡

A light breeze blew in from the ocean and Kate rubbed her arms. Without hesitation, David handed her the jacket he’d brought with him from the car. He didn’t ask if she was cold, he just saw her response and acted, never thinking of his own comfort.

“Won’t you be cold?” she asked.

“Nah.” He grinned. “Where I come from, this is balmy.”

She pushed up the too-long sleeves and caught his warm, musky scent as she drew the jacket around her. Kate welcomed the way she felt. It had been a long time since she’d been so content.

As David promised, they checked out the pier, which was like a year round carnival. They went to the arcade first, where Kate learned she was a pretty good air hockey player. David dropped at least fifty dollars on games trying to win her a cheap prize. Then he took her on the Ferris wheel, which appeared to grow right out of the ocean. And while they sat in the gondola at the top of the world, he pulled her close. She snuggled into the crook of his arm, telling herself it was to get away from the chill, but actually she loved feeling his body next to hers.

After the rides, he bought ice cream cones and they ate them while strolling on a path by the beach, sometimes talking, sometimes just enjoying the shared silence. Music floated out of a bar they passed, and the notes of an old ballad hung in the air while couples slow-danced on the outdoor deck.

He licked the vanilla ice cream right where it met the cone. “I can’t believe I picked you up in a bar.”

Kate laughed. “Have you ever done that before?”

“A bar pick-up? Too many. You?”

“Never. You’re my first.”

“Rookie,” he said playfully. “But to tell you the truth, this is more like a first date.”

“A really good first date,” she added.

“Have you dated at all since you and your husband separated?”

“Nope, another first.” She felt her heart speed up just a little as she thought about how the night was unfolding. This was turning out to be her best birthday yet.

His mouth curled up at the corners. He was obviously pleased that he was the one reinitiating her to the single life. What was it with guys and being first?

“Long time since you’ve been on a first date,” he said.

The statement was the perfect opening, but again she decided to keep her age to herself. Why spoil a perfect evening with a bit of worthless information? People were right, age was just a number. “The last time I was on a first date I was eighteen.” That was the truth. Then she screwed up her face. “I married him.”

He chuckled. “You’re good at it. First dates, I mean.”

“So are you.”

“Not usually. It’s always a production. I never really feel like I’m getting to know the women I’m with.”

“How is that possible? You’re so nice.”

He groaned. “Being with you is easy. I mean, look at that place where we had dinner. Most women would flip if I brought them there.”

“Because you’re David Burke?” Just saying his name made her feel like she was missing something. That she should know more about him.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, then took a bite of the crunchy sugar cone. “The women I date know who I am. It’s all about being seen. It was different with you.”

“I didn’t have expectations.”

He tossed his napkin in a trashcan and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Are you offended? I should have taken you someplace nicer.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The restaurant was perfect and I’m having the best time.” She lightly rubbed his bicep.

“Me too,” he said quietly.

They found a bench and sat, and Kate knew she might have to make a decision about how far this evening was going to go. Three hours ago, all she wanted was for David to leave her alone; now she didn’t want the night to end. She genuinely liked him, and unless she was completely clueless, he liked her, too. But it was the chemistry between them, the honest-to-goodness chemistry, which made her wonder what was going to happen next. When she looked in his eyes, touched his hand, felt the warmth of his skin, Kate’s heart beat faster.

She wanted him to touch her.

It terrified her and it thrilled her, and she wasn’t at all sure letting herself go would be the right thing. But Kate had done the right thing all her life. She’d never slept around or done drugs. She had always been a good girl, doing whatever she was told, working hard and pushing herself. Where did it get her? Women who took control of their decisions seemed more content when they got to be her age.

This had been a most unusual evening. She was with a man she’d met only a few hours ago, yet she felt completely at ease. It was like being with someone she’d known for years. It was the comfortable, connected feeling she always wished she’d had with her husband.

There was a subtle shift in his position, and Kate found herself gazing into David’s eyes. Eyes as deep and beautiful as the darkening sky.

David gently cradled her face in his hands and his gaze settled on her lips. He waited, possibly expecting her to pull back, but when she didn’t, David closed the space between them.

She held her breath, waiting what seemed like forever for the first touch. When his lips brushed hers, soft and inviting, her eyes drifted closed and she was lost. She didn’t feel anything but heat as his fingers combed through her hair and his mouth played with hers. She felt the ridges of muscle as her hands drifted along his sides and to his back. Kate had never touched a man like him in all her life—one who was hard as steel, a man with enough physical power to crush her, and yet so gentle, so aware of his own strength that he tempered it for her. His arms came around her and enveloped her in a tender embrace as he continued to kiss her, urging her lips apart, dipping his tongue into her mouth until he finally pulled away. Both of them were breathing hard and Kate collapsed onto his chest, drawing in the scent of the ocean and his cologne.

He nuzzled her hair and Kate heard his breathing steady while he maneuvered her onto his lap and started kissing her again—gentle, probing kisses. Kisses that were meant to make her drunk, lose her mind, and surrender.

“David?” He moved to her jaw and neck nipping as he explored.

“Kate.” He whispered in her ear. “We should stop.”

“I don’t want to stop.” She ran her hands up and down his spine. With each stroke, he shuddered. It was crazy wanting him like this, unbelievable that the feeling was mutual.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure. We should go back to the hotel.” Her lips touched his Adam’s apple and he swallowed hard. She smiled, loving the flash of power she felt.

“Your room,” he said. “I have a roommate.”

“Uh huh.” Her fingers ran through his hair and she took tiny sips of his lips. “I don’t care where we go.”

He drew in an unsteady breath, moved her off his lap, and pulled her behind him on a mad dash to the car. They didn’t touch during the entire ride from Santa Monica to the hotel. Kate sat pressed against the passenger door, afraid to get too close. If they had any physical contact, they wouldn’t make it to her suite. They glanced at each other occasionally, and she knew if David was feeling half of what she was, he was in pain.

They made it as far as the door of her room when he spun her around and pressed her against the wall, kissing her until she could barely stand. His lips were soft, his tongue probing, and he took possession of her mouth in a way no one else ever had. When he steadied himself and stepped back from her, there was still heat—unbelievable heat—between them. Kate didn’t know how she found the plastic room key in her bag, and she couldn’t hold it still enough to insert it and open the door.

“My hands are shaking.”

“Give it to me.” He took the key, slid it in, and as soon as the light turned green, he opened the door. They didn’t get two steps into the room before they were on each other.

His mouth was magic, and when he kissed her again Kate couldn’t do anything but hold on. She loved how he felt, loved that this powerful man would be inside her. And then her brain took over.

Suddenly, the thought of being with him terrified her. Not because she felt she would be condemned for all eternity for sleeping with him, but because she felt so inexperienced. Richard had been her only lover, and he wasn’t patient, gentle, or particularly innovative. For five years before her divorce, Kate’s sex life had been reduced to the missionary position once a week.

Before that it was the missionary position twice a week.

How could she be with him? It wasn’t that she didn’t try with her husband. She coaxed and teased, never refusing him. She did research, for God’s sake, to try and spice things up, but that had been a complete disaster. Now, here she was with David, who was probably used to women who knew their way around a man’s body.

Kate needed a map.

To her horror, instead of pulling away from him and putting an end to the encounter, she burrowed into his broad chest and he pulled her close.

“What is it?”

“David, I can’t.”

“You don’t want to make love?”

She looked in his eyes and felt a little dizzy. “I do. But I’m afraid I won’t know what I’m doing.”

He grinned softly. “What?”

“My experience is fairly limited. My husband used all his best moves with his mistress.”

The back of his hand grazed over her cheek and he smiled. “I guess I’ll have to use all my best moves then.”

His words touched her on so many levels. He was trying to ease her mind, make her feel desired, make her smile. And as nervous as she was, if she turned him away she would have another regret to add to the list that was already too long. She couldn’t do that. She wanted him; and more, she needed him. She needed the freedom he represented.

Staring at the buttons on his shirt, Kate ran her palms over the hard muscle hiding beneath. Then, she did something she would never forget. She started to undo the buttons. The progress was painfully slow. David watched her; she could feel his eyes. When the shirt was open Kate ran her hands under the soft fabric and pushed it off his shoulders. A gasp escaped her lips.

He was a sculpture, a classical painting, a vision all rolled into one. Every muscle of his torso was defined, like it had been cut from a slab of marble. “Oh… God…”

She didn’t recognize her own voice as it came out on a breath. He was David—as imposing and as perfectly formed as the statue by Michelangelo. She pressed her lips to his chest and he groaned. Still holding the remnants of a summer tan, his skin was slightly gold, and dusted with dark hair. She looked up when he held her away from his body.

“My turn,” he said, and he tugged at the bottom of her sweater.

Kate’s mind strayed to thoughts of the stretch marks he might see, of the ripples and sags that came from mileage. “I’m not like you,” she whispered.

He grinned. “I hope not.” Her sweater fell to the floor and David’s hands traveled over her shoulders and down her back. She trembled at the gentle movement of his fingers. He had the most amazing hands. Her bra was gone before she knew what was happening.

“You’re beautiful.” He unbuttoned her trousers and eased them over her hips and thighs.

Kate stepped out of her shoes and then out of the pants, letting them puddle at her feet. He stroked her everywhere, and while she should have felt exposed, standing nearly naked in front of a man she’d known less than six hours, she didn’t. Kate felt no embarrassment with David, no shame, just desire. It balled in her belly, waiting to explode.

When their bodies finally made contact, Kate’s skin burned and her bones melted. David kissed her neck and shoulder, and without any warning he lifted her into his arms. This is a dream. It can’t be real. She wrote things like this, scenes where passion fueled every action. But David wasn’t a character in a book, he was real, and she looped her arms around his neck and kissed his face as he carried her toward the bedroom.

A lamp on the bedside table was on. The maid had turned down the bed and David set her down gently. He took a condom from his wallet, placed it on the table, and then made short work of his remaining garments. Fully naked, he was glorious and terrifying. He stretched out next to her and must have sensed her apprehension, because his touch was so very gentle.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” she lied.

“Yes, you are. You’re shaking.” His lips dropped to her breast and drew on one nipple. She arched and moaned as the pleasure shot through her. He partially covered her body with his own, gazed at her, and brushed the hair from her face. “I’m going to make love to you, Kate. Forget about everything else. Forget what you know about sex, this will be different.”

How did he know? How did he know that in twenty years of marriage her husband had had sex with her but had never made love to her? The emotions that welled up inside her, emotions she’d locked up for so long, started to break through. Her arms found him and clung as if he were the only anchor she had. But then David started to touch her, stroke her, and give her such pleasure that she let go and allowed herself to drown.

*

David awoke on his back. Without thinking, he leaned over and pulled Kate against him. She curled in, half asleep. Logic told him he should leave, but everything about her flew in the face of logic. She was a contradiction, a puzzle, and David was in way over his head. What had started out as a bet, and was supposed to be a simple one-night stand, had become much more. This woman could matter to him. At some point, David had stopped thinking about himself and started thinking about her. Her vulnerability, her openness, her intelligence were at the heart of what he felt, but there was more. It was the way they connected.

They understood each other.

He and Kate were emotional train wrecks—victims of their broken lives. She hadn’t told him much, but once he knew her husband had cheated on her, he could fill in the blanks. His fingers played with the ends of her hair; her breathing was soft and steady. This woman was supposed to be just another notch on his belt, a quick lay. Instead, David was faced with the sad prospect of leaving and never seeing her again.

Easing away from her, he rose, and pulled on his boxers before walking to the French doors that led to the balcony. The sky was turning grey, and beyond the pool deck, the Pacific stretched on forever. He felt off-balance, unsteady, like he might have actually faced something life changing. The feelings were new and scared the crap out of him. He had to get control of himself.

But when she stirred, David looked back, and immediately wanted to make love to her again. So much for leaving. Kate smiled and sat up; the sheet bunched at her waist. David wondered if she realized how magnificent she looked with her tousled hair, her flushed cheeks, and her body begging for attention.

She tugged at the sheet in silent invitation. David’s brain screamed at him to go, even as his heart and libido were leading him back to bed.

“You okay?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Never better,” she said.

“I checked out your view—very nice.” He motioned to the door that led to a small balcony just before he climbed back into bed.

“Yeah, it’s something. My publisher booked the hotel.”

“Your publisher? I thought you were here for a teachers’ conference?”

“Kind of double duty. While I was here for the conference, I did some book promotion, too. I took advantage. I should have left yesterday, but I couldn’t face being home on my birthday.”

“I’m glad you stayed.” He kissed her nose and let his hands play with her hair. “So, mystery writers do okay, I guess?”

“Yeah. I’ve done alright.”

“What kind of book promotion?”

“This and that. A-a-bookstore visit. Some media stuff.” She was stuttering, fidgeting, and that made David curious. Obviously, there was more to Kate and her career than met the eye.

“So you never told me, how many books have you written?”

“A few.” She looked back at him and fiddled with her necklace before answering. “Six have been published.”

She might not have appreciated all the questions, but he was having a hell of a time teasing her. “How many times have you been on the bestseller list?”

She nibbled on her thumbnail. “Which one?”

He grinned. “The Times.”

She cleared her throat and looked at him. “Five times.”

“Five times, including this book?” He didn’t expect her to say that. Even he knew five bestsellers was serious business.

The oath she uttered was nothing more than a mumble as she rolled away from him. David watched her wrap herself in a plush terrycloth robe and walk into the parlor of the suite. She returned with a hardcover book and held it out for his inspection.

The imprint of a major publisher graced the spine and as he examined the thick volume, he made his discovery. “Katherine Adams?”

Holy shit.

“Uh-huh.”

He examined the cover. Oh yeah, he’d heard of her. Mystery writer, his ass. She wrote political thrillers. Her lead character was a sexy, kick-ass, female FBI agent named Elliott Hunter, and he’d read every one of her books except this one.

Damn.

“I can’t believe it.” He was still holding her book. “I’m a huge fan.”

Her eyes widened. “You are?”

“Yeah.” David couldn’t stop grinning. Inside he wondered if this made him a groupie. “You’re a teacher, too?”

“I love teaching and I don’t like change. Publishing can turn on a dime. I could never sell another book.” She tugged the robe where it was falling open, giving him another delicious peek at her breasts. “David, look… I know we’ll probably never see each other again, but…”

He put the book aside, grasped her hands, and pulled her onto the bed. “I’ve been thinking about that.” His brain was telling him to agree with her and move on, but he was saying something totally different. “Maybe we could get together when I’m on the road… or you could come and see me in Philly.”

All the color drained from her face, and for a second David thought she might pass out. Something had spooked her.

“Philly?” she said softly.

“Yeah, why?”

“I live in Pennsylvania. In Bryn Mawr,” she answered, and as she did, awareness sparked in her eyes. “I knew you looked familiar. I just couldn’t place you. You play for the Flyers,” she stated.

David’s smile broadened as he nodded.

In one motion, he pushed her book to the floor and had her under him. “So much for a one night stand.” So much for the nice, safe personal life he’d modeled for himself.

“Yeah,” she said.

They’d gotten along great, and David thought she’d be happy, but instead Kate bit her lip and looked away. “Kate? You do want to see me again, don’t you?”

She looked back and her eyes brightened, showing him a lightening in her mood, and betraying her desire. She wanted him. That had to be a good sign. Her hands held his head and she kissed him on the mouth—once, twice, three times. The fourth kiss almost made him forget his own name.

“I want to see you again, but things could be complicated,” she whispered.

“Whatever, we’ll talk about it later.” His mouth covered hers and they started all over.

*

Lying on the bed where she and David had made love an hour before, Kate clutched the pillow where his head had been and snuggled in. He’d taken her number, given her his, and promised she’d hear from him in a few days.

Kate giggled. Talk about a great birthday present. She’d had more orgasms in one night than she’d had in twenty years with her ex. God, she missed David already. But thinking about it, it was more than the sex—it was the ease of the whole night. From dinner to the bedroom, being with him was relaxed and fun. Kate had no idea what she’d been missing until last night. Rolling on her back and taking his pillow with her, she thought about it. She missed his laughter, the deep timbre of his voice—she missed his touch. Breathing deep, she caught a whiff of his scent. God, she hoped she saw him again.

And if she did, she’d tell him.

Not that her age was a big deal. It shouldn’t be, but it could be uncomfortable for him. And there was her daughter to consider. Even if David was all right with the age thing, he may not be able to cope with the fact that Kate had a seventeen-year-old daughter.

For that matter, Kate wondered how her daughter would deal with the fact that her mother had slept with David Burke, the man whose poster hung on her bedroom wall.

*

David settled into the wide seat on the team’s charter. The guys were tired so the lights were dim, and a just smattering of conversation could be heard in the cabin. Players were either reading, listening to music, or settling in to get some sleep. But not him. His shoulder and knee ached, and his mind kept drifting back to Kate. And how after only twenty-four hours, he missed her.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to get her face out of his head. When one image of her faded, another one took its place. He saw her on the deck wiping at her eyes, at dinner listening to him like he really mattered, talking about her work, sleeping after they’d made love. He was trying to remember the last time a woman got inside his head like this. The answer: Never.

He was almost thirty and wondered if it was possible that “the right girl” had finally crossed his path. He looked around the cabin. Most of the guys his age were married, or at least serious about someone. Here he was, still bouncing from one girl to another and winding up in the local gossip pages as often as he was in the sports pages. It sucked.

He’d taken a lot of shit from his teammates when he wouldn’t give up any details of his time with Kate, forcing him to accept losing the bet. He looked to his right. His teammate, Cam Roth, had a smug grin on his face and David knew he was in for it again. He didn’t care.

“What?”

“I owe you this.” Cam extended a folded hundred dollar bill and David waved it off.

“Keep it,” he said.

“Seriously? We all know you won.” Cam tucked the cash back into his wallet. “Did you grow a conscience or something?”

“I don’t feel right about the bet. She’s nice. I like her.”

“I cannot believe you got her in bed. She looked a little on the cool side.”

Chuckling under his breath, David knew Kate was anything but. “Not cool at all. We clicked. But that’s all I’m saying.”

“Come on!” Cam pleaded.

David shook his head and Cam nodded, resigned, as he leaned back into his seat. David thought about where his friend’s life was going. At thirty-seven, his career was winding down. He’d given up his “C” this season, and David had assumed the responsibilities of captain, but his old friend and mentor still drove hard every time he was on the ice. He did the same with women. David wondered if that’s where he was going to be in seven years. Could he ever settle down?

“You okay, Padre?”

“Yeah. She’s just in my head, that’s all.”

“Mind blowing, eh?”

David thought about that. Kate was mind blowing, but not in the way Cam meant it. It was something else. Something intangible. It was in the way she looked at him. The way he felt when he touched her, kissed her. He liked being with her, and it wasn’t just about the sex. He could lose himself in her—in her softness, in her intelligence, in her genuine sweetness. But it was the strength he saw along with the vulnerability, something so powerful it was scaring him shitless, that made David realize this woman, if he let the relationship go any further, would completely own him.

And then there was the book thing.

“Yeah, mind blowing… on a lot of levels.”

Cam raised an eyebrow. “Levels?”

He wasn’t surprised his friend asked the question, but he didn’t know how much he wanted to give up. So, David looked around the cabin for the part of the explanation he could share without sounding like a candy ass. “Hold on,” he said before he called out, “Yo, Graves. Toss me that book.”

Tyler Graves looked at David for a second, then lobbed the book that had been in his lap across the aisle and back a few rows. David grabbed it cleanly from the air and showed it to Cam.

“She wrote this.” David flipped the paperback over and the entire back cover was imprinted with Kate’s gorgeous face.

Cam grabbed the book and looked at the image, then at the cover. “Ho-ly shit. I actually read this.” He looked David square in the eyes. “She’s fuckin’ famous.”

“I know.”

Cam laughed out loud. “Did you get her to autograph your ass, man?”

“You are such a dumb shit.” David grabbed the book and looked at the picture again.

“Hey, chicks ask me to autograph body parts all the time!”

David heard the growl come deep from his throat. This could get complicated, and her fame was only part of it.

And that was what unnerved him; he didn’t need the complications a woman like Kate would bring. She’d want a real relationship. He didn’t need a relationship. He hadn’t been turned down for a date or sex for as long as he could remember—usually he didn’t even have to ask. Most women were more than willing and eager to keep things casual. They’d put on the act, play the games, but they were always available. The current woman in his life made it very clear she was going to sleep with him, and did him following their first dinner together. She was the gorgeous, blonde, twenty-three-year-old daughter of a surgeon. The difference with her was that since he’d been seeing her, and sleeping with her, more regularly than the others, she’d started hinting at making things permanent, and at that moment David realized he had to let her know it wasn’t going to happen.

No doubt, Chelsea would be the perfect trophy wife; she was a hot piece of ass and possessed the common sense of a breast implant. But David didn’t want a trophy. Until Kate, he didn’t think he wanted anything but a warm body. The whole situation made him realize just how far he’d dropped on the personal relationship scale. There had always been plenty of women, lots of great sex, but no one who actually cared about him.

Kate would care. He had no doubt about that. What he didn’t know is if he was up to it. Or if she was interested.

David took his phone from his pocket and typed a quick text. What the hell. He hit send. Home day after tomorrow. Dinner Wed? Piccolo’s in Ardmore. Do you know it?

Within a minute, an answer came back. Yes. Talking to a book group at the library in Haverford. Will be done around 9. Can meet you after.

David smiled. “I’ll be there. Get there when you can.”

Just as they were starting to taxi, he got her response. Can’t wait.

The plane was picking up speed and soon they were airborne. David focused on the lightness he felt as they left the ground. Piccolo’s was BYOB, so that meant he had to get a good bottle of wine. He’d probably get two, a red and a white. Crap. What was happening? He was actually planning a date, and doing more than making reservations, or counting on his fame to get him in someplace. Sticking his phone back in his pocket, he acknowledged Kate was different, and she was going to require some effort.

*

Kate dropped her bags when she entered the laundry room and flipped on the lights. There had been a little blast of cold weather while she’d been away and the house was chilly. She took a quick glance at the basket of mail on the counter to her left, checked to see if the plants needed water… and it was then, when she looked around, that Kate felt the loneliness wash over her.

But it wasn’t the usual loneliness, the kind that screamed at her that she’d been left. This was a new feeling, one that left her more resigned than miserable. One that reminded her it was time to move on.

Right next to the laundry room was the kitchen. Kate took another look at her bags, deciding to leave the largest one in the laundry room since most of the clothes had to be washed anyway. She grabbed the carry-on and headed upstairs. When she reached the first landing, she turned and went to Laura’s room. Opening the door, her daughter’s essence reached out. It was the smell of a seventeen-year-old: denim and deodorant, makeup and perfume. Stepping into the room, Kate reached down and turned on the bedside lamp. There, right in front of her, was David. A large poster hung at the head of Laura’s bed. He was in full hockey gear, a helmet covering his dark hair, but the intensity in his eyes held her. The pads and jersey weren’t there for Kate. All she saw was the man beneath. And as the smells of her daughter faded, the musky, warm scent of David flooded Kate’s mind.

It came over her like a wave, and she felt the happiness stir deep within her. All at once, she started reliving last night. She kept replaying the moment he approached her in the bar, worried she would forget the instant when their eyes first made contact. Kate tried to pretend there was nothing between them. But as he stood before her on that sunny deck, being genuinely concerned and perfectly gorgeous, Kate melted. Talking with him was like being with an old friend; making love with him was like finding her other half.

And she was going to see him again.

As a writer, she lived by her ability to make people feel things, but over the years Kate had grown numb. The years with Richard, the fight for her daughter, had forced the life out of her. But one night with David helped Kate realize her heart was still beating.

She reached out and touched the picture and smiled. He’d given her the most remarkable gift… hope. Something she hadn’t had in the longest time.

Forgetting about the fatigue and her carry-on, Kate climbed another set of stairs. At the top was her office, the place where she went to let her imagination take hold and create her stories.

When she touched the switch on the wall, just inside the door, the overhead light came on. The fixture was a beautiful conglomeration of twisted vines she’d found in a decorating catalog, and the final touch to the space she’d been planning since the sale of her first book. Two years ago, when book three was optioned for a movie, Kate took the money and hired a contractor. Richard had been furious, but she didn’t care. The third floor needed work, and she laid claim to one of the old, run-down bedrooms.

The whole floor had been gutted and transformed, but her office was special. With wide-plank wood floors, built-in shelving, and a custom made desk, this was her space. Hers. Looking up at the light shining from the chandelier, Kate stepped into the room.