She turned into him more comfortably and, quite naturally, laid her hand on his chest. While his mouth tested the softness of her throat, her fingers loosened the top button of his shirt until she could feel the crisp, curling hair on his chest.
His fingers trailed her collarbone, found the first tie that held the front of the caftan together, and tugged on it until it fell away. The second tie was treated likewise. Then the third. Leigh held her breath in anticipation and knew a twinge of disappointment when he lifted his head to look at her. Without moving aside the fabric, he pressed his hand over her breast.
His eyes held her spellbound as he fondled her. “You feel so good,” he whispered. “Full and soft and” She drew her breath in sharply when his thumb skated across the crest. “Oh, Leigh, Leigh, Leigh,” he groaned, and buried his face between the breasts now made bare by his questing hands.
He kissed the soft flesh, his mouth leaving damp impressions on her skin. The very touch of his rough cheeks against her flesh set her blood singing. Her nipples throbbed with need.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes, please, please.” She could think of nothing but the delicious yearning he evoked in her. A heartbeat later his lips closed over the distended bud.
&n
bsp; He savored her, first with the gentle drawing of his mouth, then with his tongue. It flicked, stroked, circled, nudged. Of their own volition her fingers ruffled through his hair and held him securely against her. The pleasure went on and on until she thought she would die of it. His hand found the hem of the caftan, raised it, stroked her knee. Higher… higher…
“Chad,” she moaned. His lips blazed over her breasts, her throat, to find her mouth. The kiss was almost savage with reciprocal need.
He lifted her hand from its random wandering over his chest and moved it down, over the remaining buttons of his shirt, past the brass belt buckle, to press against his driving masculinity.
He rained fervent kisses on her face, her neck, her naked shoulder. His speech was halting and raspy. “Leigh, feel me. I’m… I don’t want to hurt you. It’s been a while for you… you’ve had a baby. Will I hurt you?”
“No, no,” she breathed, shaking her head and telling him with a responding pressure of her hand how well she trusted him.
“Sweet”
They sprang apart at the telephone’s shrill ring.
Chad cursed softly under his breath. Leigh unwound her limbs from his and stumbled across the room to the telephone. “Hello.”
“Dillon there?”
Chapter Four
Leigh’s brain, clouded with thwarted passion, tried to focus on what the man on the telephone had said. “Dillon? Chad?”
“Is he there?”
“Yes… just a moment.”
She turned to see Chad standing close behind her. His eyes pinned her to the floor as one secures a butterfly on a cork board. He took the telephone receiver out of her limp hand. “Yeah,” he barked into the instrument. He listened for a moment, his eyes transfixing hers. Then he turned away. “Where?… Bad?…” More muffled curses. “Okay.… Half an hour.”
He dropped the telephone, lunged toward the couch, and shoved his feet into his boots, working them down into the stiff leather.
“Chad…?”
“I’ve got to go, Leigh. I’m sorry. Sorry as hell.”
“Who was… How did he know… What… Where are you going?”
“Out on a job.”
“A job? But… The urgency”
“Well, it’s sort of an emergency.”
He was pulling on his coat, not looking at her. “I’m sorry he called me here. I had to leave your number.” He came up to her where she stood trembling, disheveled from their ardent kissing. The ties to her caftan hung loosely. The cloth gaped open. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, hugging herself. She was suddenly frightened. He rested his hands on her shoulders and pulled her toward him. “This is for Sarah.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I didn’t get to see her tonight.”
“Chad”