“Talk, Alex.”
“I like watching you cook,” she blurted.
“What?” He chuckled against her lips.
“It was very manly, the way you banged and rattled the pans. You’re messy. You didn’t crack the eggs, you smashed them. Your ineptitude was endearing.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re making me crazy.”
“Am I?”
He inched his head down and stroked her belly with his tongue. His thumb continued to finesse her slowly, provocatively, maddeningly, while his fingers slid in and out. Sensations began to b
ubble warmly within her lower body. The pressure centered on the idle movement of his thumb, so that when he replaced it with the tip of his tongue, she cried out.
She clutched handfuls of his hair and tilted her hips upward toward the heat of his avid mouth, toward the swirling magic of his tongue.
Not until the aftershocks had subsided did she open her eyes. His face was bent low over hers. Damp strands of hair clung to her cheeks and neck. He lifted them away and laid them on the pillow.
“What does a woman say at a time like this, Reede?”
“Nothing,” he replied gruffly. “Your face said it all. I’ve never watched a woman’s face before.”
Alex was deeply touched by his admission, but tried to make light of it. “Good. Then you won’t know if I did it right or not.”
He glanced down at her flushed breasts, at the moisture that had caused her pubic hair to glisten. “You did it right.”
Lovingly, she combed her fingers through his hair. “It could have happened before it did, you know—like, that evening at the airfield. And the time in Austin when you took me home. I begged you to stay with me that night. Why didn’t you?”
“Because you wanted me there for the wrong reasons. I wanted a woman, not a little lost girl looking for her daddy.” He studied her doubtful expression. “You don’t seem convinced.”
Unable to meet his incisive eyes, she looked at a point beyond his shoulder. “Are you positive that’s the reason? Or were you looking for somebody else?”
“You don’t mean somebody, you mean Celina.” Alex turned her head aside. Reede gripped her jaw and forced her to look at him. “Listen to me, Alex. You made me mad as hell by saying what you did the other night, that crap about taking from you what I’d always wanted from Celina. I want you to understand something. We’re the only two people here now. There’s nobody between us. No ghosts, either. You got that?”
“I think—”
“No.” He shook his head so emphatically that strands of dark blond hair fell over his green eyes. “Don’t just think—know. You’re the only woman in my head right now. You’re the only woman that’s been in my head since I met you. You’re the only woman I’m dying to fuck every minute I’m awake and that I dream about fucking when I’m asleep.
“I’m too old for you. It’s stupid and probably wrong for me to want you. It’s complicated as hell. But, right or wrong, no matter whose daughter you are, I want you.” He imbedded himself firmly inside her. “Understand?” He pushed higher, harder, hotter, and groaned, “Understand?”
He made himself understood.
Junior woke up before sunrise, a rarity for him. He’d had a bad night. Following Reede’s suggestion, he’d spent several hours with Stacey. Her physician had given her a sedative, but it hadn’t worked well enough. Each time Junior thought she was asleep and left his chair at her bedside, she would wake up, clutch his hand, and beg him not to leave her. He hadn’t gotten home until well after midnight. Then he’d slept fitfully, worrying about Alex.
The instant his eyes opened, he reached for the telephone on his nightstand and dialed the Westerner Motel. He instructed the clerk, who was tired and cranky during those waning minutes of his long shift, to connect him with her room. The phone rang ten times.
Breaking the connection, he called the sheriff’s office. He was told that Reede hadn’t come in yet. He asked to be patched into his mobile unit, but the switchboard operator told him it wasn’t in use. He called Reede’s house and got a busy signal.
Frustrated, he got out of bed and began to pull on clothes. He couldn’t stand not knowing where Alex was. He would find out for himself, starting with Reede.
He crept past his parents’ bedroom, although he heard stirrings behind the door. He was sure Angus would want to talk to him about the deal with Judge Wallace concerning his marriage to Stacey. Junior didn’t feel up to discussing that yet.
He left the house and climbed into his Jag. It was a clear but cold morning. The drive to Reede’s house took him no more than a few minutes. He was glad to see that the Blazer was still parked out front and that smoke was curling out of the chimney. Reede was an early riser. Hopefully, he had a pot of coffee already perking.
Junior jogged across the porch and knocked on the front door. He stood there, hopping from one foot to another and blowing on his hands in an effort to get warm. After a long wait, Reede pulled open the door. He was wearing only a pair of jeans and a rumpled, sleepy, disagreeable expression.