Her whole body seemed to be in the grip of a shivering ague now, so much so that she daren’t let go of the side of the shower.
Lyle cursed again, reaching for a towel then coming towards her. ‘You crazy fool,’ she heard him storm furiously. ‘Don’t you realise the shock to your system of a cold shower on a hot night like this, especially on top of all that alcohol? Come here.’
Somehow he managed to envelop her in the towel and detach her tightly curled fingers from the shower, at the same time picking her up in his arms as easily as though she were James’s weight.
He carried her through into her own room, sitting down on her bed with her on his lap, briskly rubbing her freezing body with the thick towel.
Slowly the shivers stopped, the icy chill in her body replaced by a languorous, dangerous heat which she instantly recognised.
Miraculously now her head was completely clear. What on earth had possessed her to go on drinking after Lyle had warned her not to? Heavens, surely she could have realised for herself what she was doing? She had always assiduously avoided alcohol in the past, carefully monitoring what she drank, but tonight for some reason… No, not for some nebulous, half-understood reason at all. She knew exactly why she had drunk so much: initially it had been because she had been so terrified that Lyle might make use of the fact that they were alone to tell her he wanted to end their marriage, and then because she had been totally unable to endure the sight of him with Janet Holmes.
‘All right now?’
He had stopped touching her now, his hands lightly resting on her waist, ready to put her away from him and leave her room, she recognised miserably. If only he would stay with her. If only there were some way; her breath caught in her throat, her body hurting as she recognised his desire to get away from her.
‘Lyle…’
She looked up at him, watching the guarded shadows hide whatever lay in his eyes.
Her fingers fluttered against his skin, stroking the taut line of his jaw in a gesture both pleading and helpless.
‘Ple
ase don’t go. Please stay with me.’
Part of her was horrified at what she was saying, what she was doing, but she was overwhelmed by a surge of despair as his hands moved from her waist to her arms, ready to thrust her off, and without even thinking properly, she clung to him, pressing her mouth to his, and kissing him with a defiant, desperate hunger, not knowing and certainly not caring that the towel had fallen away from her upper body and that her breasts were pressed damply against the front of Lyle’s shirt.
She could feel the pressure of his fingers as they locked round her wrists, but strangely he did not push her away, his mouth suddenly relaxing under her own, his hand going from her wrist to the back of her head, where his fingers wove into her hair and pressed against her scalp, his lips moving on hers as he muttered rawly against them, ‘My God, I didn’t want this, but you make it impossible for me to refuse.’
CHAPTER NINE
SHE WAS IN HEAVEN, Jessica thought achingly, drowning in the unexpected delight of having Lyle’s mouth against her own, his harsh unrhythmic breathing telling its own story as his hands swept her body with a fierce compulsion, pushing away the towel, cupping her breasts so that his mouth could savour the pulsating fulness of first one and then the other breast.
Reality slid away from her as easily as she shed the towel, everything else blurring into insignificance as she felt her body become an eager slave of the desire Lyle aroused within her. Beneath his hands her body arched, instituting a delicate dance of delirium, her own fingers eager if somewhat clumsy as she tugged at the buttons of his shirt, shivering in open pleasure as they gave way to allow her access to his body.
She felt him shudder as she touched his skin, tiny shivers of responsive awareness creating a frisson of arousal within her body as she moved wantonly against him, hearing him gasp and mutter something incomprehensible against her ear as her teeth caught against a hard male nipple. She touched it with her tongue, teasingly, testing his reaction, shuddering herself when his fingers tangled in her hair and tightened in mute recognition of the effect she had on him. His thumb brushed the delicate skin behind her ear, his tongue searching its curves with deliberate eroticism.
She felt her response to his touch all the way down to her toes which curled in automatic reflex. Her body felt weightless, languorous, her mind completely cast adrift as she shed the inhibitions she had always wrapped so protectively around herself.
It was her purpose and her pleasure to arouse Lyle to the point where like her nothing mattered more than desire. Already he wanted her; his body hard and urgent against her own, his mouth burning her skin where it touched it.
She found the zip of his trousers, and slid it down, feeling the tension in his body as her nails accidentally scraped against his flesh. He shuddered violently, trapping her hand against his body, his mouth burning into the tender flesh of her throat, searching for the frantic pulse that beat there.
Waves of dizziness spread through her, heat engulfing her body as she tipped her head back under the pressure of his mouth, not sure if the heavy hammer-blows she could feel came from his heart or her own.
She wanted him and she wanted him now, her body moving frenziedly against his, accepting the intimate caress of his fingers with spasmodic delight. She was lying on the bed now, breathing erratically beneath his caress, shocked into an anguished protest when he suddenly withdrew from her, leaving her tense and aching with the desire he had aroused. She sat up, shivering slightly as reality impinged on her erotic dream, but Lyle was simply removing the rest of his clothes.
When he came back to her, he didn’t speak, simply staring down at her, absorbing every minute detail of her aroused, naked body. And then he was on the bed, his mouth and hands caressing and arousing every millimetre of sensitive skin until she was crying out incoherently for him to finish it.
As if he knew exactly when she reached the fine line dividing desire from torment he moved over her, her body arching eagerly to receive the weight of his, the first slow thrust of his body within her own wrenching from him a low hoarse cry which penetrated her own aching desire, doubling her pleasure in his possession when she knew how much he too had craved it.
It was over too quickly, the tense spiralling delight exploding inside her almost before she had time to register its onset. She felt Lyle reach his climax and knew a primitive delight as she felt him deep within her while her body still quivered in the aftermath of its own release.
He slumped over her, his skin hot and damp with sweat, his breathing harshly irregular. Not wanting to let him go, Jessica wrapped her arms round him, pressing her mouth to the salty heat of his throat, letting her senses absorb the maleness of him. She felt tired, so very tired…
* * *
‘JESSICA, ARE YOU AWAKE yet?’