Expecting his child(9)

She wondered if her mother had felt a premonition about her pregnancy or  if she'd been eagerly looking forward to the birth of her third baby.  Martina knew her mother's death had been a complete shock to her father  and brothers.

A familiar longing swept over her. Lately, not a day passed that Martina  didn't wish she could talk to her mother. Noah touched her arm, shaking  her out of her reverie.

"You're supposed to be breathing," he whispered.

"I was," she told him.

He shook his head. "Deep breathing for relaxation. First stage of labor."

Martina glanced at the teacher and put aside her distracting thoughts.  If she didn't focus on the class, Noah was going to know more about  going through labor than she did, and she would never live that down.

After class, they drove home in silence. He pulled into her driveway, but didn't get out. "You're quiet."

She smiled. "Rare, isn't it?"

He nodded. "What's on your mind?"

She shrugged. "Lots of things. Labor, delivery, wondering what it was like for my mother."

His gaze turned thoughtful and he squeezed her shoulder. "Worried?"

"Not really," she automatically said. "There's no reason-" She broke off and smiled at the sensation of her baby's movements.

"What is it?"

"I think we've got a rodeo rider." She pressed her hand against her  belly and saw the look of curiosity and longing on Noah's face. The  expression moved her. Impulsively, she put his hand on her belly.

His eyes widened. "Hell, she's active!"

Martina laughed. "He," she corrected.

"She," he corrected, then cradled her belly with both hands. "Does she do this all the time?"

The fascination in his voice did strange things to her heart. "Not all  the time. He sleeps some, but sometimes it feels like he's gearing up  for a rodeo."

Noah stroked his fingers over the blouse covering her. The gesture was  oddly tender and sensual. "I know this has been happening for centuries,  but it still feels like a miracle. You and I made this magic happen."

With dark eyes, he held her gaze for a long moment, a moment where something inside her seemed to creak and shift.

Martina wasn't sure there were words for what his eyes were saying to  her. Noah leaned closer and she held her breath. He dipped his head and  slowly, softly rubbed his warm lips over hers.

Martina felt the caress electrify her nerve endings from her head to her  toes. He kissed her and a hundred emotions tumbled through her. All the  passion they'd shared and something more powerful jerked at her like a  game of crack the whip.

Alarm shot through her. She pulled back, staring at him, waiting to  breathe. Martina lost herself in his changeable eyes. Sometimes green,  occasionally blue and in rare moments gray like a storm-tossed sea, his  eyes truly seemed to mirror the inner man. He was one man, yet had such  diversity, a diversity that had fascinated her from the moment she'd met  him. Strong, rugged, intelligent, intuitive.                       
       
           



       

Perhaps too intuitive, she thought. Sometimes she feared he could see  everything going on inside her. "I need to go," she whispered, and  turned away from him.

She didn't make it out of the car before he appeared by her side. He  cupped her elbow, and though she felt the urge to wrest her arm from  him, Martina knew it would have been childish. Still, just his touch set  off a riot inside her. She'd run from the intimacy they'd shared, but  his closeness stirred up images of his hands exploring and pleasuring  her.

"You haven't forgotten, have you?" he asked in a low voice as they reached her porch.

"Forgotten what?" she returned, digging for keys in her purse.

"What it was like when you were mine."

Her heart slammed into overdrive. "I was never yours."

Noah boldly lifted his hands beneath her cotton blouse and touched the  bare flesh of her belly. "Yes, you were. There's plenty of proof. Here,"  he said, then skimmed his hand up between her breasts. "And here. You  were mine."





* * *





Chapter 5

«^»

You were mine.

Noah's words echoed through Martina's head as she fell into a fitful  sleep. The images seeped inside her, at first hazy around the edges.

He set her on the desk in his hotel room with a playful, yet intent  gleam in his eye. Martina's heart fluttered and she wondered what was  next. He was always surprising her.

He skimmed his finger up the inside of her stocking-clad leg all the way  to her knee. "I've always thought the man who invented panty hose  should have been horsewhipped."

She grinned. "And why is that? Do you think it would be better for women to freeze?"

"No," he muttered. "But there are better ways to keep warm." He  continued to slide his finger up the inside of her thigh. When he  encountered bare skin, surprise flickered across his face and he met her  gaze. "The person who invented thigh-highs is due a thousand  thank-yous." He lowered his mouth to hers and said against her lips,  "You keep surprising me."

Martina swallowed all her doubts and lost herself in his kiss. She was  totally out of her depth with this man and could only hope she was  concealing that fact. He slid his tongue over hers, teasing her to give  him what he wanted. Her entire body clamored in response. Her breath  grew short, her nipples tightened, and she grew moist and swollen.

Back and forth Noah rubbed the exposed sensitive skin of her inner  thigh. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, mirroring the way he had  taken her more intimately at other times. Hot and restless, Martina  suckled his tongue deeper.

Noah shuddered and pulled back slightly. "Everything about you is one  big tease for me." He pushed her skirt farther up her legs and dipped  his fingers beneath the edge of her panties. "You're the apple I'm not  supposed to eat, but tasting you isn't enough. I want all of you."

The mixture of overwhelming frustration and desire in his voice echoed  inside her. Although neither she nor Noah ever spoke of their families,  the long-standing grudge stood between them, a silent, strong barrier  that prevented them from getting as close to each other as they wanted.  Martina wanted him. She wanted to drink his words and endlessly explore  his mind. She wanted to make him ache the same terrible delicious way he  made her ache.

Whenever he kissed her, the air around them seemed to grow thick, just  as it did before a storm. She felt that same impending sense that  something powerful was going to happen. When they made love, it always  did inside her. Martina struggled with the strange feeling that her  premonition represented something larger than this moment, but her mind  grew cloudy with passion.

Impatient with the obstacles between them and the restraint that kept  her from being with him fully, she pushed all thoughts of her family and  his aside. She ruthlessly banished everything but him from her mind.

Tugging at the buttons on his shirt, she pulled it open and ran her  hands over his warm, solid chest. Instinct driving her, she slid her  fingers down to the top of his jeans and pulled his belt loose. She  brushed her open mouth against his, then slid her lips down his throat  to his chest. She dipped her hands beneath his jeans to where he was  hard and aroused.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and his eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"  he asked, his fingers exploring her soft, damp secrets. "Do you know  what you want, Tina?"

The tension in her core and mind tightened, and she felt hot inside and  out. Had she ever wanted this much? Staggering desire and fear mingled.  She swallowed, shoving the fear away. "I want you," she said, hearing  the telltale huskiness in her own voice. "I want everything."

Her words seemed to make him combust. He pulled her panties away so that  she was bare beneath him. Gazing at her naked femininity with a carnal,  claiming expression, he lowered his mouth to the inside of her thigh  and kissed.                       
       
           



       

Martina gasped. The near intimacy made her feel incredibly vulnerable. "I  …  I … "

"Hang on," he said, and took her with his lips.

Flexing her fingers in his hair, she felt consumed and utterly  possessed. His tongue laved the pearl of her femininity, creating a  tender, delicious friction, sending her over the top once, then again.

Martina cried out, and Noah pulled back. He lowered his jeans, fully  exposing his huge arousal and drawing her hand to touch him. She stroked  his hard shaft and he closed his eyes as if torn between pleasure and  pain.

Trembling, she pulled herself up and tentatively pressed her lips to  him. She opened her mouth over him and tasted the heady flavor of his  passion.