His Sugar Baby(7)
Cathy—no, Winter, she corrected herself—picked up the hundred dollar bill. She folded it very deliberately and put it safely into her purse. Then she looked up. “I’ll go back to your house.”
Chapter Three
A thousand times, Cathy changed her mind, and a thousand times she bit back the words. They did not speak during the taxi ride. Michael had taken her hand when he entered the cab after her and had not let go of it. Their hands lay clasped on the seat between them, his large one engulfing hers. He did not hold her hand tightly or squeeze it or play with her fingers. There was no overt demand. Yet the contact created an intimacy and a bond that in her indecisive state of mind she could not break. Perhaps it was that as much as anything else that stopped her from telling him that she had second thoughts about what she was doing.
At their destination, Michael paid off the cab, and still with the lightest of contact—the warmth of his hand at her elbow or at the small of her back—he directed her to the front door and then inside the house.
The entry was shrouded in mystery. Lamps sitting on dark lacquered occasional tables had been left on so that pools of light played with the night shadows. Cathy instinctively shivered, but she wasn’t given time to analyze the feeling. Michael ushered her into the living area. Cathy received a swift impression of a comfortably furnished room with big upholstered armchairs, a deep-cushioned sofa, some small lamp tables and other accessories. A gas fire burned yellow in the glass-fronted fireplace. The fire was out of context in June, but the ambiance of the dancing flames was striking.
Cathy moved forward, away from him, breaking physical contact. She whirled to face him. She crossed her arms, and her palms began unconsciously running up and down her bare skin. The fear that had nudged her earlier in the entry became full-blown, making her skin clammy. She was breathing shallowly. Suddenly and startlingly sober with the adrenaline racing through her veins, her mind screamed at her. She hadn’t considered. She could have placed herself in very real danger. This man was a stranger to her! What a fool she was! He could do anything he wanted to her. No one knew where she was. She gulped back a sob, her breath rasping in her throat.
Hearing her swift intake of breath, Michael stilled and narrowed his gaze on her. The firelight burnished glints of gold dancing in her auburn curls and cast mysterious shadows into her eyes. But he easily read her body language. She looked like a beautiful frightened feline holding herself at bay. It would not take much to spook her, he thought. He had deliberately used a cab to bring them back to his house, believing that she would be less likely to say anything about having second thoughts within the driver’s hearing. Now he saw that he had correctly anticipated her state of mind. His body had already been hard for her before they had left the restaurant. He would have to curb his impatience. He felt the razor-edge anticipation and, along with it, the tightening of his balls.
He walked across the dimly lit room toward her, his unwavering gaze fixed on her face. He stopped within inches of her. He was actually a little surprised when she didn’t back away. At that close proximity, he could see the frantic pulse jump in her throat with each beat of her heart. Keeping captive her unsure gaze, he cupped his hands gently on each side of her face and drew her up. His lips caught hers. For a first kiss it was almost chaste. Almost, but not quite. He took his time, not pressing her but just tasting her. She was stiff at first. Her defensive stance was a barrier between them. Then he felt some of the tension drain out of her body. Her tightly clutched arms loosened and fell to her sides.
He slipped one of his hands into the thick hair behind her nape, holding her head as he slanted his mouth and deepened the kiss. With the other hand, he pressed her closer so that her generous breasts flattened against the hard breadth of his chest. She shivered under his fingers when he glided them slowly up and down the delicate curve of her spine.
Cathy’s skin pebbled with goose bumps. His warmth surrounded her, and his cologne was a spicy musk in her nostrils. Her mouth opened under the gentle insistence of his kiss, and his tongue slid along the seam of her parted lips. He tasted pleasantly of wine. She closed her eyes, letting the sensations roll over her, through her. She felt his lips move to her eyelids, to her throat. It had been so long since she had been held.
She sighed, and he heard her. He kissed her again, this time less gently. His tongue pressed inside her mouth, stroking lightly, erotically against hers. His hands moved over her body, exploring its contours. He cupped her butt in both hands, drawing her closer, and she felt the hard ridge of his erection against her soft belly. She trembled. He released her to push up the hem of her silken shell, his long, calloused fingers gliding smoothly underneath it to caress her trembling ribs and her back. She felt the nimble twist of his fingers, and then her bra parted. His hands slid back around and pushed up inside her bra to palm her naked breasts. All the while he kissed her. She quivered with mingled dread and anticipation. Her hands lifted to curve over his hard shoulders for balance.
He broke the kiss and took her hands away from his shoulders. She blinked up at him, confused. Almost in one motion, he pulled the shell over her head, down her arms, and dropped it. Her bra went the same way. She quivered in pleasurable reaction. He gathered her close again, his fingers tightening almost painfully on her forearms. He trailed his firm lips down her throat, and she lifted her chin to give him better access. When he nipped the skin under her ear, she inhaled sharply at the slight sting of pain. His tongue touched the tiny wound, soothing it. A muscular arm slid behind her bare back, pulling her upward. He bowed her against his taut body. His hair brushed her chin as his head dipped. Then his mouth closed on one breast, and he suckled it. Cathy arched sharply in shock, giving a choked cry. She spasmodically clutched his shoulders.