Breath of Scandal(154)

Her tummy quickened. Her breasts heaved on each rapid breath. Heat consumed her. Shamelessly, she rode his hand. When the pressure became unbearable, when her body had become a combustion chamber, she caught his muscled shoulder between her teeth to keep from crying out as the shattering release came.

He fell back among the pillows, bringing her with him, so that she was sprawled across his chest and belly, her legs lying between his. He strummed her spine, stroked her bottom, massaged her shoulders.

Her head remained buried in the hollow of his neck. On her descent, she breathed deeply of the scent of his sweat mingling with her perfume and his cologne. Occasionally a tiny tremor shimmied through her.

Eventually, he placed his hands on either side of her head and lifted it so he could gaze into her face. "You were something," he whispered gruffly.

She ducked her head with chagrin. "I never knew it would be so . . . so . . . "

"My words exactly." They laughed softly. They kissed softly. Then they kissed carnally, their tongues entwining. Dillon unfastened the waistband of her skirt and pushed it down her thighs. His hands slid into her panties. His rough palms closed over her derriere, drawing her up.

"I want to feel you against me, Jade. Your wet, your heat-against me. I swear my cock will stay where it is, but, hell . . . "

She wanted to feel him, too. Moments before she had thought that all her desire had been exhausted in one act. Instead, his kisses were already renewing the longing ache that was at once new and yet familiar.

She kicked away her garments and stretched out over him. When Dillon caressed her again, his hands touched naked flesh, and he groaned. He continued to pull her up his body until his mouth could reach her breast.

It seemed natural for her legs to part. Her knees separated to straddle his waist. He wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs and slid them up and down in a caress that made her weak.

"Dillon, please."

She couldn't specifically name what she was begging for. But she never would have anticipated what he gave her. Grasping her hips between his hands, he drew them up as he leaned forward off the pillows. He buried his face in the glossy hair betweenher thighs. To keep from pitching for-



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ward, Jade gripped the rails of the headboard behind his head.

He kissed the springy, dark curls. "Dillon-"

He slipped lower and kissed her again, his mouth open and loving. She almost swooned when she felt his tongue -separating, searching, finding, tickling, stroking-while his hands massaged the backs of her thighs just below her buttocks.

The roaring in her ears returned. Her heart rate accelerated. A rosy blush spread upward from her pubis to her taut nipples.

It was about to happen again. She wanted it. And yet . . .

"No." She tried to draw away from him. "Dillon, no. Stop. "

Having heard the key word, he released her, but looked befuddled and anxious. "For God's sake, why?"

"I want you inside me."

She peeled back his briefs and lowered herselUover the tip of his penis, which was already moist from its glistening emission.

"No, Jade, let me-"

"Let me!" she said emphatically. The first rhythmic contractions were already seizing her when she took the smooth head of his organ between the protective folds of her sex. Her body pulsed around it.

He moaned something profane and placed his hands on the tops of her thighs. He brushed his fingers through the damp cluster of curls and pressed the distended little kernel of flesh beneath their apex.

Jade called his name as her climax rocketed through her. She impaled herself on him, then collapsed on top of his chest while the spirals of sensation continued to curl through her. Dillon wrapped his arms around her slender body. He needed nothing more than penetration to make him come.

The walls of the candlelit bedroom echoed soft cries of gladness, whimpers of gratification, and, eventually, sighs of repletion.

CHAPTER



Twenty-Nine



The mood in the hospital room was sepulchral.

The doctor standing at the foot of the bed no longer kept his pessimism concealed. Looking first at his patient, then at the patient's wife, he said, "I'm sorry. We've done all we can."

For several moments after he left, neither said anything. Finally, Hutch turned his head on the pillow. He reached for Donna Dee's hand. "Well, I guess that's that."

"No." Her small, pointed face screwed up as she struggled to hold back tears. "That new antirejection drug might work. "

"You heard what he said, Donna Dee."

"He said it was experimental and that he's not very optimistic. I heard every word. That doesn't mean I believe it. I refuse to believe it."

"You always have had a knack for refusing to believe what you don't want to." Wearily, Hutch closed his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He lay there, saying nothing. She gave his hand a tug. "Hutch?"

He opened his eyes, though the effort obviously taxed his diminishing strength. His voice was faint. "You never wanted to believe what really happened with Jade." "Jade?"

"We raped her, Donna Dee. Just like she said."

She tried to pull her hand away, but he gripped it with surprising tenacity for a dying man. Donna Dee was frantic to change the subject. "You've got more important things