The Millionaire's Marriage Demand(18)

Low in her belly, a deep, sweet ache was born. She had time. That was  what Travis was saying. Time to savor every sensation. Time to learn his  body, to discover what he liked and what pleased him.

Was that what was meant by intimacy?





CHAPTER TEN





Julie brought her hands to Travis's face, searching out the hard planes  of his jaw and cheekbones, tracing his deepset eyes, her own smiling  into his with a mixture of shyness and invitation. His hair, so thick  and silky; the corded tendons in his neck; the dip of his collarbone and  the swell of taut muscle that was his shoulder, she explored them all  and found them all utterly entrancing. And the whole time she watched  his face, losing herself in the brilliant blue depths of his eyes. He  said unsteadily, "Have I told you yet today how beautiful you are?"

"If you did, I missed it."

"How your eyes are the green of a hummingbird's wings? How your skin is  smooth as a river?" As he ran his hands down her body, she shivered in  response, his voice casting a spell over her. "How you tremble when I  touch you. Like this. Or like this."

His palms, curving to her hips, cupping her buttocks, then sliding to  her inner thighs, did indeed fill her with a wild, sweet trembling.  Tears suddenly blurred her vision. "No one's ever said such beautiful  things to me."

He found the sleek petals of flesh between her legs, seeking out their  heart, watching her face change as he stroked her very gently. "Does  that give you pleasure?"

She thrust with her hips, briefly closing her eyes. "Yes, oh yes … "

She was drowning in desire, flooded by its tides. And she'd been  ignorant enough to think it didn't exist. She knew better now. Desire  existed. Desire for Travis, for his big, muscular body and all the  wonderful things he was doing to her.

Going on instinct, Julie moved her hands further down his body, roaming  the corded muscles of his belly, the jut of hipbone and his taut flanks.  "If I'm beautiful," she murmured, "so are you."

He suddenly rolled over, carrying her with him so that she was lying on  top of him, pulling her face down to kiss her again. And all the time he  was exploring her breasts and narrow waist, the flare of her hips, in  slow, sensuous strokes. She kissed him back, moving his thighs apart so  she could rub herself against him with a matching sensuality. "Do you  like that?" she asked.

"Like it?" he gasped. "Julie, I love everything you do."

With sudden shyness she said, "You mean I don't disappoint you?"

His hands stilled. "You couldn't be further from the truth." He paused  for a moment, as if searching for the right words. "You told me you'd  made love a long time ago, that you weren't a virgin …  but it's almost as  though I am the first. There's an innocence about you that makes me  feel very special."                       
       
           



       

She wasn't sure she liked the direction he was heading. "I'm doing my  best to lose that innocence," she said lightly, "which will require your  full cooperation."

"You've got it," Travis said, and lifted her to ride him. She was more  than ready for him; as he buried himself deep within her, she gasped  with delight. Again Travis found the place where she was most achingly  sensitive, teasing her flesh until she was shuddering with pent-up need,  her head thrown back, her belly taut within the hollow of her rib cage.  An inward throbbing seized her, wild as an ocean storm; she rode him as  though he were the waves of the sea until the last barriers between  them dissolved, and his own climax reared to meet hers.

The last fierce ripple ran through her; the sounds she was hearing were  her own harsh indrawn breaths mingled with his. As though she were  boneless, she sank down on top of him, holding him close, his body hair  rough under her cheek. "It happened again," she said raggedly.

"I feel like I'm making up for a lifetime of hunger," Travis said hoarsely, wrapping his arms around her.

"I feel like I've been ambushed," she croaked. "I had no idea making love could be like that."

"Look at me, Julie."

She glanced up, the expression on his face catching at her heartstrings.  Distantly she felt the stirrings of what was unquestionably panic.  "Travis, I-"

"I want you to know something-I've never made love like that in my  life," he said in the same hoarse voice. "I'd pictured seducing you  slowly, taking my time, giving you the most pleasure I was capable of.  But instead, both times, I was totally out of control. That's not like  me …  to lose myself like that."

Her one desire to defuse a level of emotion that terrified her, Julie  said pertly, "It's not like me, either-you can take that to the bank."

To her relief he smiled. "We could try again. Although we may have to  wait more than five minutes this time …  I'm only human." His smile  widened. "Tell you what. Why don't I take you out for dinner? Then we  could come back here and make love all night. Or we could go to my place  if you like."

"Dinner …  did you say dinner?" In a flurry of bare limbs, Julie sat bolt  upright, her face horror-stricken. "Moroccan chicken. Ohmigosh!"

"What's the matter?" Travis demanded. As she tried to scramble off him,  he grabbed her by the wrist. "Surely the thought of a dinner date with  me isn't that horrendous?"

She tugged futilely at his grasp. "My parents, they're coming here for  dinner. I'm making this fancy chicken casserole." Her gaze fell on the  bedside clock, her voice rising. "They're going to arrive in  three-quarters of an hour."

Travis said promptly, "I'll do the dishes, and you cook."

She looked at him as though he had two heads. "Are you suggesting you stay for dinner with my parents?"

"Yeah …  I guess I am."

"No way! I'm not letting them within a mile of you. Let go, Travis, please."

If anything, his grip tightened. "What's the big deal with your parents, Julie?"

She struck at his hand. "I am not going to tell you my life history when  my mother and father will be ringing the doorbell in exactly  forty-three minutes." She gave a moan of despair. "They're always  punctual. Precisely on time. They'll take one look at me and they'll  know what I've been doing all afternoon. How could I have forgotten they  were coming?"

"You forgot because we were doing something more important."

How could she argue with him? She was the one who'd thrown herself at him. "That's your interpretation," she said fractiously.

Travis released her wrist so suddenly that she almost fell sideways. "You want me out of here? Right now?"

"Of course!"

His voice hardened. "There's no of course about it. Not from my point of  view. We just made love. Twice, in case you've forgotten. And now you  want to hustle me out the door so your parents won't catch sight of me  and think you've actually been with a man. How old are you, for heaven's  sake?"                       
       
           



       

"Thirty," she muttered, scrabbling for her clothes, which seemed to be  scattered all over the floor. "What's that got to do with it? Do hurry,  Travis."

"Just you wait a minute," he said grimly. He stood up, towering over  her, stark naked and angrier than she'd ever seen him. Taking her by the  shoulders, he grated, "We made love. That means something to me, and  I'm not going to walk out the door as though it never happened. We'll  get together tomorrow evening after work. We can meet in the middle of  the park, or in a coffee shop, or all the way out at the Spring Point  lighthouse-I don't give a damn where we meet. But we're going to meet.  And you're going to talk, Julie. You're going to tell me why you've  never had a serious boyfriend in your life, and how that relates to your  parents. Have you got that?"

It wasn't easy to be cool, calm and collected when wearing nothing but  black lace briefs and confronted by a large, angry and entirely naked  male; but Julie did her best. "That's your agenda," she said coldly,  "You haven't asked me mine."

"I don't care if you've already got plans-cancel them," he grated, and  with complete composure bent to pick up his scattered clothes. Julie  averted her eyes from the long curve of his spine. She still wanted him,  she thought, appalled. How could she? What was wrong with her?

Was she some kind of sex maniac?

An inner resolve, scarcely articulated, hardened into shape. "I-I don't think we should see each other again," she said.