Pregnant by the Texan(43)
Was she making a mistake by rejecting intimacy when Aaron obviously wanted it, as well as wanted to marry her? The question still constantly plagued her.
In the slow dances, their steps were in perfect unison as if they had danced together for years. Sometimes she felt she had known him well and for a long time. Other times she realized what strangers they were to each other. Sometimes when he got that shuttered look and she could feel him withdrawing, she was certain she should tell him goodbye and get him out of her life now. Yet with a baby between them, breaking off from seeing Aaron was impossible.
When the music ended they left and went to her suite. He got the tape of her interview.
“Want something to drink while we watch?” she asked. “Hot chocolate? Beer?”
“Hot chocolate sounds good. Go easy on the chocolate. I’ll help.”
They sat on the sofa and he put on the tape. While they watched, Aaron gave her pointers and when the tape ended, he talked about dealing with the press. Removing pins from her hair, he talked about doing interviews. As the first locks fell, she looked up at him.
“You don’t need to keep your hair up all the time. You surely don’t sleep all night this way.”
“Of course not. It wouldn’t stay thirty minutes.”
“So, we’ll just take it down a little early tonight,” he said. “Now back to the press. Get their cards and get their names, learn their names when you meet them. They have all sorts of contacts and can open doors for you.”
As she listened to him talk, she paid attention, but she was also aware of her hair falling over her back and shoulders, of Aaron’s warm breath on her nape and his fingers brushing lightly against her. Every touch added a flame to the fires burning inside. Desire was hot, growing more intense the longer she sat with him. She wanted his kiss.
She should learn what he was telling her, but Aaron’s kisses seemed more important. When the bun was completely undone, he placed the pins on a nearby table. He parted her hair, placing thick strands of it over each shoulder as he leaned closer to brush light kisses across her nape.
Catching her breath, she inhaled deeply. Desire built, a hungry need to turn and wrap her arms around him, to kiss him.
She felt his tongue on her nape, his kisses trailing on her skin. He picked her up, lifting her to his lap. She gazed into his brown eyes while her heart raced and she could barely get her breath.
“I want you, Aaron. You make me want you,” she whispered. She leaned closer to kiss him, her tongue going deep. Her heartbeat raced as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
His hands slipped lightly beneath her sweater, sliding up to cup her breasts. In minutes he cupped each breast in his hands, caressing her. She moaned with pleasure and need, wanting more of him. She wanted to be alone with him. To make love and shut out the world and the future and just know tonight.
Would that bring him closer to her? Her to him? She couldn’t marry him without love, but intimacy might be a way to love.
She tightened her arms, pressing against his solid warmth, holding him as they kissed. His fingers moved over her, touching lightly, caressing her, unfastening snaps, unfastening her bra.
His fingers trailed down over her ribs, down to her slacks. While they kissed, she felt his fingers twisting free buttons. Without breaking their kiss, he picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. Light spilled through the doorway from the front room, providing enough illumination to see. He stood her on her feet by the bed and continued to kiss her, leaning over her, holding her against him as his hand slipped down to take off her slacks.