More than a Mistress(27)

"What's cotton candy?" she asked, wide-eyed.

He bought her a giant-size cone that had been dipped in what might have  been endless yards of pink spun sugar. She tasted it cautiously, testing  it with the tip of a tongue as pink as the candy. Travis felt his body  clench as he watched her. A need so fierce it frightened him swept  through his blood. He wanted to gather her into his arms, carry her away  from the noise and the people, take her to some quiet place where only  the moon and the stars would look down on them as they made love.

"Oh," Alex said, "Travis, this is wonderful!"

He looked at her, at her smiling face and her sugar-studded lips.

"Wonderful," he said, in soft agreement, and he bent to her and touched  his mouth to hers, drinking in the sweetness of the sugar and the  sweetness that was uniquely Alex. "Wonderful," he whispered, and he drew  her into the shadows and into his embrace.

Her arms went up and encircled his neck.

"Travis," she said, her voice trembling.

"Yes, Princess," he murmured, "yes, I know."

He didn't know. He couldn't. She didn't know, herself, couldn't imagine  why her heart was racing. Why she suddenly wished they were alone, under  the star-filled sky. So he could make love to her, yes, but for more  than that. Oh, for so much more...

Travis cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her, gently at first, then with growing passion.

The cotton candy cone drooped from her fingers.

"Princess," he whispered. "Come home with me."

"Yes." Her eyes were bright as they met his. "Oh, yes."

He drove quickly through the night, yearning to touch her but wanting, needing, the sweet pain of anticipation.

He wanted her now, so badly that the thought of it nearly made him  dizzy, the need for her curling through his blood like an aphrodisiac.  And he could tell, by the way she'd trembled when he'd kissed her, that  she wanted him the same way.

But he knew, too, that the first frenzy of their lovemaking wouldn't be  enough. He'd want her again, slowly once he'd regained his sanity,  taking all the time he needed to lose himself in her kisses, to stroke  the satin skin between her thighs, taste the honeyed sweetness of her  breasts.

No, he thought, as he urged the Porsche along the dark Coast Highway, no, he didn't dare touch her now.

He turned into his driveway. The electronic gate opened at the touch of a  button, then closed silently behind them. The gravel road had never  seemed as long, nor the trees alongside so high.

The garage loomed ahead but he didn't bother with it. He stopped the  car, opened the door, stepped out into the sea-scented night and then  she was in his arms.

"Travis," she whispered, and the yearning in her voice, the softness of  her sigh, almost undid him. All his romantic plans, the sweet seduction  he'd intended, were swept away by need.

He kissed her, holding her head between his palms, threading his hands  into her hair, angling his mouth over hers again and again while she  clung to him, her fingers knotting into his shirt, her mouth open and  wild beneath his.

He scooped her into his arms, carried her up the wooden steps that led  to the deck, his mouth never leaving hers. He could hear the sea  pounding against the sand, like the heavy pulse of his own blood.

He let her down slowly, her body soft against the hardness of his, and fumbled in his pocket for the keys.                       
       
           



       

"Wait," he said thickly, and made one last attempt to hold on to his sanity.

But Alex couldn't wait. Her body tingled with the tension that had built  between them in the car, all through the endless, silent drive; she had  never wanted anything, needed anything, as she needed to feel Travis's  arms around her.

She murmured his name, slipped between him and the door, her arms tight around his neck, her mouth open and enticing on his.

"Now," she said, "Travis, please, now."

She touched him, her hand sliding down over his erection, cupping him.  She heard the metallic tinkle of the keys as they fell to the deck,  heard his groan and then his hands were hard on her shoulders as he  backed her against the door. He lifted her skirt and she felt her  panties rip, felt his hand as he undid his zipper, and then he was  inside her, deep inside her, and the stars began to spin in the heavens.

"Alex," he whispered, as he cupped her bottom and lifted her to him. "Alex."

"Travis." Her voice trembled. She wanted to say more, to tell him what she felt...

But he moved, moved again. A high, keening cry burst from her throat, and she was lost.

She awakened, alone in Travis's wide bed, as dawn touched the room with  wisps of pink and gold. Above, the blades of a ceiling fan turned  lazily.

Alex sighed, snuggled deeper under the blanket. Her muscles ached a  little, her mouth was swollen. The delicate scent of their lovemaking  clung to her skin.

It had been a long night, a night filled with abandon. And she felt wonderful.

She sighed again, stretched her arms, rolled onto her belly and rubbed her cheek against the coolness of the pillowcase.

A smile curled across her lips. The case, the sheets, were silk. The bed  was enormous. All in all, the room had been a perfect setting for the  hours she'd spent in Travis's arms...

Her smile faded.

It was the perfect setting. The room had been designed for this, for the seductions of a bachelor.

How many other women had shared this bed? There had to have been many. A  man like Travis wouldn't live a monk's existence. How many others had  died and been reborn in his embrace, only to mourn his loss?

The real question was, how long before it would be her turn?

Alex closed her eyes.

No commitment. No forever after. Just pleasure, for as long as it  lasted. That was the bargain they'd made. The terms were mutual. She had  discovered herself. She could be independent, she could be free, she  could be a sensual. sexual woman.

Surely, that was enough. Wasn't it?

She rolled onto her back and stared blindly at the turning ceiling fan.  She had everything she'd dreamed of. And yet, suddenly, she felt empty,  felt-

The door swung open.

"Good morning, Princess," Travis said, and Alex sat up, dragging the sheet to her chin, while her heart flew into her throat.

He stood in the doorway, holding a tray in his hands. He was naked  except for his unzipped jeans, his dark hair was mussed, there was a  sexy stubble on his jaw and he was more gorgeous, more incredibly  masculine, than any man had the right to be.

It would be so easy to fall in love with him.

The thought took her breath away. No. She could never do that, fall in  love with a man like Travis, who didn't believe in commitment or forever  after, and certainly not in love...

"I made us some breakfast." He smiled as he crossed the room and set the  tray down on the nightstand beside her. "Bacon, eggs, toast and a  gallon of coffee."

Say something, she told herself furiously, and somehow she managed to tear her gaze from his face and look at the tray.

"It's-it's enough for an army," she said, and forced a smile to her lips.

"Yeah." His smile turned into a devilish grin. "But I figured you might be as hungry as I am this morning."

She looked at him. She needed time to think, and she couldn't do that here, in his bed.

"Travis-"

"Besides, we have to keep up our strength." He kissed her. "Driving  lessons tend to take a lot out of a person," he murmured, his mouth  against her throat.

Alex blinked and drew back. "Driving lessons?"

"Yeah." He took a strip of crisp bacon from the tray, bit off a piece,  then put it to her lips. "Well, not driving lessons, exactly. Open up,  Princess, and take a bite."

She did. Bacon had never tasted so ambrosial.

"Porsche lessons," Travis said, watching her, smiling when her blue eyes  widened. "Unless, of course, you've changed your mind about wanting to  see what it's like to handle a fast car..."

Alex gave a wild whoop, tossed back the sheet and sprang from the bed.

"Oh, Travis! No, I haven't changed my mind. I'd love to drive your car.  Do you really mean it? Do you...? Travis? What's the matter?"                       
       
           



       

He looked at her. She stood with the glass deck doors at her back,  limned by the light of the new day, naked and rosy and gently marked  with the signs of his possession.

"Travis?"

He wanted to tumble her back down onto the bed, and make love to her  again. Wanted to slip deep inside her and hear her soft little cries as  he took her over the edge of the precipice.

"Travis, what is it?"

But mostly-mostly, he wanted to hold her in his arms. Just hold her, and never, ever let her go. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not...