Silver Linings, стр. 31

Hugh edged his fingers higher under the red satin. The warmth and softness of the inside of her thigh almost sent him over the edge. When her legs parted slightly of their own accord, he stifled another muffled groan.

His questing fingers found the scrap of cotton that shielded the moist, feminine flower he sought. For a moment or two he contented himself with stroking her through the fabric, but when he felt the cotton grow damp he knew he was not going to be able to stop there.

Mattie moved again, arching her hips slightly against his touch. She mumbled something in her sleep, something that sounded like an impatient demand. Hugh slid his fingers inside the leg opening of the cotton panties.

Mattie inhaled quickly and her lashes fluttered. Through sensually narrowed lids, her eyes met his in the shadows. Hugh did not dare move. He realized he was holding his breath.

Then, without a word, she reached up for him, twining her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her. Her eyes closed again.

She wanted him. Hugh thought he would go out of his mind then. He groped roughly at the satin skirt, shoving it quickly up over Mattie's hips to her small waist. Then he yanked the cotton panties downward.

She was ready for him, moist and welcoming. Hugh came down on top of her, probing hungrily. He buried his lips against her warm throat and simultaneously thrust deeply.

Mattie cried out, her whole body stiffening.

“Oh, babe. Oh, babe. Mattie.” Hugh's voice was hoarse with his desire. She was tight and hot and wet, just as he had remembered. Months of shattering dreams had finally crystallized into a glittering reality. She wanted him. He pounded into her, a year's pent-up need fueling his passion.

He heard the soft little gasps, felt her arching herself beneath him, and he reached down to find the little nub hidden in the thick, soft curls at the apex of her thighs. When he touched it, she went off like a rocket. She convulsed beneath him. She went wild. She clawed at his back. She clung to him as if he were the only man left on earth.

He hastily covered her mouth, drinking in the gentle, feminine sounds of release. And then he was going up in flames himself, his entire body uncoiling like a powerfully compressed spring that had been under tension far too long. The sensations ripped through him, seeming to last forever.

When it was over at last, Hugh was covered in sweat as if he had just completed a long-distance run. He raised his head to look down at the woman in his arms and realized she had gone back to sleep.

Hugh exhaled heavily. He really did not feel like talking now anyway. He felt too good, too replete, too content. Why mess up the perfection of the moment with a lot of idle chitchat? Slowly, reluctantly, he eased himself out of Mattie's clinging warmth. Then he rolled onto his back and gathered her against him.

“Babe, we're going to be damn good together,” he whispered. “Just like you told me a year ago. Damn good.” For a long time he lay looking up at the ceiling of the shabby little room and listened to the sounds of footsteps in the hall.

It occurred to him that this waterfront fleabag of an inn was probably not at all the sort of place Mattie usually chose to stay in when she traveled.

Mattie's first thought when she awoke the next morning was that the mattress must have been even lumpier than it had looked yesterday. She felt stiff for some reason.

And a little sticky between her thighs.

And uncomfortable. The red sarong was bunched awkwardly around her waist.

Then she opened her eyes and the all-too-vivid dream she'd had during the night flooded back.

It had not been a dream, of course.

Mattie groaned, turned onto her stomach, and buried her face in the pillow.

Idiot. Fool. Dolt. Dunderhead. Half-wit. Dunce.

She was trying to think of other suitable terms of endearment for herself when she heard boot heels in the hall and a cheerful masculine whistle. A few seconds later the door of the room opened.

“Hey, babe, you awake yet? Time to rise and shine. Got a plane to catch. I brought you some coffee and a roll. The roll is a little stale, but it's edible.”

“Oh, my God,” Mattie said into the pillow. Hugh's voice held the unmistakable tone of a man who is very certain he's in control of his woman and his world.

“Up and at 'em, babe.” Hugh put something down on the dresser and stepped over to the bed to give Mattie an affectionate swat on her rear. “Believe me, I know how you feel. Nothing I'd like better than to crawl back into that bed with you, but we've got to get moving. Plenty of time for fooling around later.”

Mattie turned her head on the pillow and opened her eyes with a strong sense of foreboding. Hugh was grinning down at her, gray eyes gleaming with sexy satisfaction. He looked his usual vital self dressed in his jeans, boots, and khaki shirt. His hair was still damp from a recent shower. She looked past him, gauging the distance to the tiny bath.

It was worth a shot.

“Excuse me,” Mattie said very politely as she slowly sat up, tugging the sheet around herself. “I'm not at my best in the mornings.”

“Have some coffee. Got it next door at a little hole in the wall joint. Stuff tastes like a cross between burned tires and battery acid. It'll wake you up.” Hugh thrust the cup of steaming brew into Mattie's fingers.

Clutching the sheet, Mattie looked down at the thick, black liquid. It looked and smelled stronger than the espresso all her friends drank back in Seattle. “I prefer herbal tea in the mornings.”

“You look like you need something powerful to get you going this morning, babe. Drink up.”

She did not have the fortitude to argue.