Grant found it hard to admit to that, however. “I don’t want another upheaval in my life. Hell, that’s the last thing I want. I especially don’t want one that could in any way touch you. But dammit, I can’t give you up either.”
“You’ll have to. How do you think I’d feel if you lost your job on account of me? Do you think I could live with that?”
“I’ve lived through much worse, Shelley. Believe me, I’m a survivor. It wouldn’t bother me.”
“Well, it would bother me a great deal.” She placed her hand on the door handle. “Good-bye, Grant.”
He caught her arm with a hand like a steel talon. “I won’t let them force us apart no matter what they threaten. And I won’t let you throw it all away. Shelley, I need you. I want you. And I know you want me just as much.”
His other hand shot across the interior of the car and caught the back of her neck, hauling her against him. “No—” she managed to force out before he clamped his mouth over hers. The kiss was brutal, his passion adding to his frustration.
Holding her motionless with one hand, he slid the other down to trap her breast. His rotating palm coaxed the nipple into rapid response. Then fingers talented in the art of seduction finessed it into rigid proof of her building desire.
“Please no,” she breathed into his mouth as his kiss gentled, “don’t touch me anymore.” His tongue glided along her lower lip, sliding over it to caress the soft interior just beyond.
“Don’t deny us this, Shelley. After all this time, don’t take this away from us. Haven’t we paid enough dues for the privilege? I want to know all of you.”
He began with her ear. It was explored thoroughly by a velvet-rough tongue that whimsically probed or teased. Her hand had unconsciously closed over his thigh. She squeezed the muscled flesh beneath his trousers mindlessly, gripping it harder when his touch raised the level of her excitement.
Had Grant not already been driven with his need to possess her, the placement of her hand would have provided him with more than enough incentive. As it was, her unconscious caress only fanned the fires of his passion and made him more determined than ever to eliminate her fears and reluctance.
His mouth sampled the smooth skin of her neck and chest, alternately nibbling with his teeth and stroking with his tongue. She felt herself welcoming the rising storm inside her. She wanted to be drawn into the tempest, into the maelstrom his caresses made of her universe.
Impatient with her clothes, he kissed her through them. He pressed hot, moist kisses onto the lush curves of her breasts. When he reached her nipple, she gasped his name and wound his hair around her fingers.
His tongue feathered the agitated peak, burning through the blue silk and the sheer veil of her brassiere. Her breath came in quick, shallow pants as his tongue nudged her breast more insistently, and she cried his name sharply when his mouth closed around the tip completely.
He tugged on her gently. First one breast, then the other received his meticulous attention. He lifted his mouth free only long enough to speak her name in a loving chant.
She welcomed him when his hand insinuated itself under her skirt and slip to stroke her thigh. The silky texture of her panty hose only heightened her sensitivity. she liquefied under his touch, moving in a way that encouraged his bold exploration.
Aroused as they were, neither was prepared for the tumult of emotion that rocked them when his caressing hand reached the top of her thighs. He pressed his forehead against her breasts while her fingers remained enmeshed in his dark hair.
He whispered endearments as his thumb erotically stroked the gently swelling mound and her thighs relaxed and parted. “Shelley, I’ve got to love you,” he said as he opened his hand to enclose her.
This was the man she’d always wanted and here he was, offering her unbound passion. Why was she reluctant to accept it? Because this wasn’t a fairy tale. This was life. Things like this didn’t happen in the real world. No man, whom a woman loved and desired for years, came back into her life like a knight on a white charger. Nothing worked out that perfectly. Somewhere, at some time, a price had to be paid.
It would be so easy to submit to his whispered words of love and her own blazing desire. She wanted him, thought she might very well die if she didn’t have him, but she couldn’t stake both their careers on one night’s pleasure. And that was all it might be.
He was willing to gamble on an affair. After all, he could always walk away from it. When he was through with her, when he had broken her heart all over again, he could simply retreat. He’d be free and she’d be left to pick up the pieces of her life again.
She didn’t really think Grant could be so callous. But then she hadn’t thought Daryl could be either. When it came right down to it, women were at the mercy of the men they loved.
Much as she loved Grant, she wasn’t going to be that vulnerable again.
At first he didn’t realize that she was struggling to extricate herself from him, not to move closer. The sudden stiffening of her limbs alerted him as nothing else could. Her hands warded him off. He looked at her blankly, blinked and shook his head to clear it.
“Shelley … ?”
“Good-bye, Grant.” She shoved open the car door and tumbled out.
“Shelley!” she heard him shout. She ran up the walk, let herself in the house and slammed the front door as though the devil were after her.
Like an automaton that knew exactly how to act but was void of feeling, she went into her bedroom and climbed out of her clothes. She looked down at the two damp stains on the front of her blouse with dismay. It would have to be dry-cleaned after all, she realized as she burst into tears.
She spent Sunday cloistered in her house. Since it rained all day, she had a good excuse to remain indoors. Her mother called and asked if there was anything new in her life and if she was enjoying this semester’s classes. Shelley elected not to mention her political-science teacher.
Apparently Grant was going to let her decision stand. She had expected him to telephone, but he didn’t.