Kiss an Angel(52)

“You think I’m a thief.”

“Let’s just say I’ve cooled down a little.”

She tilted her face up to his, and another pang of guilt struck him as her violet eyes came alive with joy and her soft, silly mouth curled with pleasure. “You believe me! You know I didn’t steal the money!”

He hadn’t said that. He was simply no longer as angry. Although he couldn’t condone what she’d done, he knew she’d been desperate, and he no longer wanted to serve as her hanging judge.

“I believe you’re sexy as hell.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip and found it moist to his touch. “Are you taking care of birth control, or do you want me to do it?”

Her eyes flared. “I’m on the pill, but—”

“That’s good.”

He dipped his head and caught her mouth beneath his own. It quivered. God, she was sweet. She must have nibbled one of the ripe plums in the bag on the counter because he tasted the fruit on her breath.

Her lips parted a bit, but the movement was hesitant, as if she were still making up her mind. He found something infinitely exciting about her tentative, uncertain welcome. At the same time, he knew he wasn’t going to give her any more time to think, and he drew her closer.

Outside the small world of the trailer, the first drops of rain began to fall, hitting the metal shell with gentle taps. The sound was soothing and hypnotic. The patter of the rain somehow isolated them, set them apart from everyone else in the universe and gave them a private place.

Daisy sighed as she felt Alex’s kiss, gentle and patient. The icon he wore rubbed against her, and as the tip of his tongue brushed the sensitive inner surface of her bottom lip, warm honey poured through her veins. In that moment all her principles evaporated, and any idea she’d had of denying him disappeared. From the beginning she’d wanted him like this, and she could no longer resist the force that pulled her toward him.

Opening her mouth, she let him in.

He took his time invading her, and when he did, his kiss was deep and full. She responded with fervor, and he let her play as she wished.

She used her tongue on him and her lips, kissed the corners of that hard mouth, delved inside again. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and, standing on tiptoe, nipped his earlobe. She left little teeth marks at the corner of his jaw before she returned to plunge inside his mouth.

Enter and play.

Withdraw and explore.

Inside again.

Her excitement mounted, fueled by the rasp of his breathing and the feel of his hands clasping her so tightly, one at her waist, one splayed across her back. How could she ever have been afraid of him? The image of the whips stored beneath the bed flicked through her mind, but she pushed them aside. He wouldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t.

She licked a sweet trail from his neck to his chest and poked the tip of her tongue through the dark hair that dusted his pectorals until she could press her lips to the skin beneath. His breathing came more rapidly now, and when he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse.

“If this is the way you kiss, angel, I can’t wait to see how you—” He moaned as she found his nipple.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and one of her fingers caught in the gold chain that held the icon. This game of hot kisses and new touches was so delicious she couldn’t get enough of it. His body was hers to explore, and she yearned to see every inch of it.

“I want to take off your towel,” she whispered.

His fingers sank into her hair.

She reached for the knot, only to have him press his hand over hers. “Not so fast, sweetheart. First you’ve got to show me something.”

“What do you want to see?”

“I’ll let you choose.”

“In this costume, I think I’ve already shown off just about everything I have.”

“Maybe I want a closer look.”

She’d known sex could be exciting, but she hadn’t expected the sensuous teasing note in his voice. It flashed through her mind that perhaps she should confess that she was a virgin, but then he’d think she was a freak. And he’d never know if she didn’t tell him. Contrary to romantic fiction, fragile maidenheads didn’t survive twenty-six years of physical activity and doctors’ exams.

Tilting back her head, she watched his eyes roam over her as she stood before him in her showgirl’s costume, and she found the idea of playing the experienced femme fatale infinitely exciting. She’d read lots of books, so maybe she could even pull it off. What could she do that was naughty?

She turned her back to him, trying to give herself a moment to think, and in the process saw that the limp blue curtains hanging on the small window just above the kitchen table weren’t closed all the way. She doubted anyone would be passing by in the rain, but just in case, she hurried over. Bracing one hand on the Formica top, she leaned across the table to close them.

She heard a muffled sound behind her, almost like a groan. “Good choice, sweetheart.”

She had no idea what he was talking about until she felt him come up behind her and rub against her out-thrust bottom. He massaged the flesh through its diamond-shaped veil of fishnet. Her nipples tightened and her skin grew flushed at the unfamiliar sensation. At the same time, her nervousness escalated. No matter what she wanted him to believe, she had no experience with ordinary lovemaking, let alone anything exotic.