Читать книгу Pride And Pregnancy - Karen Templeton - Страница 8

If nothing else, nobody could accuse Karleen of not being able to think fast on her feet.

Because, even after Troy’d kissed her, and her blood had gone all syrupy in her veins, she’d realized she was in far more control of the situation than she’d expected to be. Or that she’d ever been before. That she could have walked away, if she’d wanted to. And that her not wanting to had nothing to do with her being powerless, or weak, or over-sexed; it had to do with realizing she had a duty to pry open this guy’s eyes before things got out of hand.

Because, she thought as clothes flew about her bedroom, once they got over the momentary sex crazies, he’d remember his mission, which was all about finding someone to share the rest of his life with. And Lord knew, that wasn’t gonna be her—

Mouths crashed, tongues tangled, bedsprings creaked as they fell backward onto the unmade bed she’d pulled together only an hour before.

—because, see, she’d taken a little peek into his house while she’d waited for the Home Depot guys. Not that she’d gone upstairs or done any serious snooping or anything, only enough to confirm what she’d pretty much figured, which was that Troy Lindquist liked things safe and predictable and traditional to the point of mind-numbing. Lots of browns and beiges and tans, relieved by the occasional splash of navy-blue. She wouldn’t last five minutes. So she figured—

“Condoms, top drawer,” she murmured when he unhooked the front clasp to her bra, but he said, “Thanks, but I’m in no hurry.”

—she, uh, figured…where was she? Oh, right. She figured one good look at her place would pretty much wipe the goony look right off his face. Although it might take a while before he noticed much of anything except what was going on between them right at the moment, men not being generally known for their ability to multitask. In fact, right now, all he was getting a good look at were her breasts. With, it pained her to notice, an expression not dissimilar to the one he’d been giving the washer control panel a little while ago.

Oh, hell. He knows.

Karleen straddled him, still in her pale pink embroidered silk high-cuts. Then she leaned over (shyness in these situations having not been an issue for a very long time), knowing the hazy sunlight filtered through the lace curtains showed the darlings off to perfection. “I got the good ones,” she said. “Trust me, they won’t leak, deflate or pop.”

Troy frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, for pity’s sake—” She grabbed his hand, planting it on her boob. His mouth pulled into a not bad expression before he tentatively gave it a little squeeze, and she went slightly cross-eyed.

“So…I’m guessing you can feel that?”

“Of course I can feel that, I’m not a blow-up doll. Think of this like…booster seats for breasts. The same, just taller. So could we please get on with it?”

He laughed. And cupped the other breast, flicking his thumbs over her nipples, and it was like first sinking into a warm bath. With candlelight. And Elvis crooning “Love Me Tender” in the background. “What’s the rush? I’m having fun—” clearly getting into things now, he moved on to light plucking “—right here.” He grinned. “Aren’t you?”

“Mmm, yeah.” Hissed breath. “But we only have an hour.”

“Oh, honey,” he said, flipping her onto her back, “you’d be amazed what I can accomplish in an hour.”

“You bragging?”

“No. Warning.” Troy shifted to lean his head in his hand, circling one nipple with his knuckle. “I have to admit, they’re very pretty.”

Karleen started to look down again, only to remember she got a terrible double chin when she did that. “They should be, considering how much they set Nate back,” she said, and he laughed and tugged her in for another kiss. And oh, my, the man could kiss, like he wanted to get to know each nerve ending one at a time…and then he started on a lazy, meandering journey, nibbling and kissing and licking and sucking his way up…and down…first one rarely explored back road…then another…and another…

And she thought, Hmm, not what I expected, and from somewhere down by her knees, he said, “Why are you so tense?” which of course tensed her, even as she said, “I am not!” and he chuckled and moved up, stroking the insides of her thighs, cupping her bottom, lowering his mouth, and she was gone.

“Not tense now,” she said a minute later, and he said, “Where are those condoms again?” and she limply flailed one arm toward her nightstand, vaguely considering when she’d last restocked. Although she didn’t suppose it was that big a deal, since she seriously doubted disease was an issue and she’d just finished her period a week ago and besides, nothing had ever happened before….

Then Troy grinned, and she thought, What now? and he sat up, settling her in his lap, filling her to somewhere around her eyeballs, and she gasped, startled, even though by rights she should have been way past being startled. But the skin-to-skin was good, he was so good, his gentleness breaking her heart, bringing unexpected tears to her eyes.

And they stilled, him inside her, her surrounding him, each reflected in the other’s eyes, and she thought, I don’t even know this man, and he wrapped her up tight, and she felt safe, and thought, Damn.

He moved, still gently, still pushing, and she pushed back, not so gently, and they didn’t so much find their rhythm as it swallowed them alive, swallowed up everything, everyone, that had come before. She hung on like she was almost afraid of being thrown, as the sweetness built and built and built and built….

Karleen arched, cried out, collapsed…and he tangled his fingers in her hair and brought their mouths together in a hard, fierce kiss, all the nerve cells colliding in a victory rumble, and another shudder of need ghosted through her, like the gradually diminishing thunder from a finished storm. Then she carefully lifted herself off, and after he got up to take care of business, she wrapped the sheet around herself, oddly self-conscious, although she could not have said why.

Well, that was different, she thought, although she couldn’t pinpoint that, either.

And for sure there was nothing even remotely Muzak about the way the man made love, a thought that sent a shiny, tender green garden snake of regret slithering through her, that they wouldn’t be doing this again.

Sitting tangled up in her sheets, she watched Troy—not a drop of self-consciousness in his veins, obviously—stroll back to the bed, naked as the day he was born and with a look on his face like he was half contemplating jumping up on something and beating his chest. Brother.

He sat beside her, slinging one arm around her shoulders and tugging her close to rest his cheek in her hair. “Thank you,” he whispered, and Karleen heard herself ask, “What was your wife’s name?”

Being sensitive was one thing. Clairvoyance was something else entirely. So while Troy had pretty much figured out that Karleen’s tough-girl persona was so much BS, he had no clue what was behind it. So he’d watched, in the reflection from her bathroom mirror, as she’d pulled that sheet around herself, seen an almost pained confusion crumple her features, thinking, What the hell?