“Are you staying with her?” she asked, knowing the question was none of her business, but unable to help herself.
Trask’s skin tightened over his cheekbones and his muscles tensed, but he didn’t look away. “I did the first night. Since then, I’ve opened up the cabin on the Metolius River. It wasn’t ready when I got into Sinclair,” he began to explain and then let out an angry oath. “Hell, Tory, does it matter?” he demanded.
Her eyes turned cold. “Not really, I guess. I just like to know what or whom I’m up against. With you and that damned anonymous letter of yours, sometimes it’s hard to tell.”
“I’m not having an affair with my brother’s widow, if that’s what you want to know.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“Like hell! Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said?” When she didn’t respond, he curled a fist and slammed it into the wall near the desk, rattling a picture of an Indian war party. “Hell, woman, I’d be a liar to say that I’ve spent that past five years celibate, but I’m not involved with anyone right now except for you!” Once again his fingers captured her, winding comfortably behind her neck.
“We’re not involved!”
With her indignation, his anger dissipated into the intimate corners of the room. Trask’s smile was lazy and confident. “That’s where you’re wrong. We’ve been involved since the first time I laid eyes on you. Where was it? Rafting on the Deschutes River!”
“That was a long time ago,” she murmured, recalling the wild ride down the white water. Though she had gone with another man, Trask’s eyes hadn’t left her throughout the day. Even then she’d seen the spark of seduction in his incredible blue gaze. Sitting on the raft, his tanned skin tight over lean corded muscles, his wet hair shining brown-gold in the summer sun, he didn’t bother to hide his interest in her. And she fell. Lord, she fell harder than any sane person had a right to fall. She had met him later that night and within two weeks they’d become lovers. The irony of it all was that she had thought she would spend the rest of her life with him. Only it didn’t work out that way.
“Let’s not talk about the past.”
He let go of her, holding her only with his eyes. “We have to sort this out.”
“What’s the point? Nothing will come of it.” She felt the urge to back away but stood her ground. “I’ll admit that I loved you once, but it’s over. It’s been over for a long time.”
“Liar.” He reached for her, drawing her body close to his. When his lips touched hers, and she tasted him, her resistance fled. Familiar yearnings awoke within the most feminine part of her, causing a bittersweet ache that only he could salve. Instead of pushing him away, she was leaning closer to him, her body reacting to the sensual feel of his hands on her skin, her blood pulsing with need as it rushed through her veins. “You want me,” he whispered against her ear.
“No…”
“Let me love you.”
Desire was heating her blood, thundering in her head, and the touch of his lips on her face and neck only made the throbbing need within her more painful. “I don’t think—” she tried to say, but his lips cut off the rest of her objection.
She felt the warm invasion of his tongue and returned his kiss without restraint. When his lips moved downward to touch her neck and then slid still lower, she could do nothing but wait in anticipation. His tongue rimmed the hollow of her throat and she was forced to swallow against the want of him.
Suddenly, Trask released her, and Tory wanted to cry out against the bereft feeling she was left with. She watched as he strode to the den door and locked it, then moved toward her quickly banishing the cold feeling.
Warm hands outlined her ribs before reaching upward to mold a swollen breast. She felt her nipple tighten against the feel of his fingers and she let out a low moan of desire.
Slowly he removed her blouse, slipping each button through its hole and letting the fabric part to display her rounded breasts, swollen and bound only by the sheer white lace of her bra. His fingers teased the hardened nipple, and Tory leaned closer to him, the ache within her spreading throughout her body.
A primal groan escaped from his lips as he lowered himself to his knees and licked first one rose-tipped breast before suckling the other. The lace of the bra became mois
t and Trask’s warm breath fanned the sheer fabric to send sharp electric currents through Tory’s body. She closed her eyes and was blind to everything but the hunger for him. Her fingers twined in his hair.
The warmth of his hands pressed against the small of her back, bringing her closer to him, pressing more of her breast into his mouth. He groaned with the savage urgency of his lust, sucking hungrily from the white mound.
Scorching feelings of desire once awakened in Tory were impossible to smother. With each touch of his hand, Tory lost ground to the urges of her flesh. With each stroke of his tongue, the ache within her throbbed more painfully. With the heated pressure of his body against hers, she felt the urge to arch against him, demanding more of his sensual touch.
Five years she had waited for the feel of him, denying her most secret dreams and now the pain of those long empty nights alone was about to be rewarded. The scent of him was strong in her nostrils and the sound of his breathing filled her ears.
Her fingers curled in his hair as he removed her bra and took her naked breast in his mouth. She cradled his head to her body, holding on to him for dear life, knowing that her love for this man would never be returned and not caring about the consequences. This night, for a few short hours, he was hers—alone.
She moaned his name when his fingers sought the front opening of her jeans and touched the sensitive skin of her abdomen.
“Trask, please,” she whispered hoarsely as his tongue traced the delicate swirl of her navel and he pulled her jeans and underwear off her body. Slowly she was pressed to the floor by the weight of his body. The braided carpet felt coarse against her bare skin, but she didn’t care.
She helped him remove his clothes and her fingers caressed the fluid muscles of his shoulders and chest. His body tensed beneath the tantalizing warmth of her touch.
Sweat dotted his brow; his restraint was obvious in the coil of his muscles. When Tory reached for the waistband of his pants, his abdominal muscles tightened. With all of the willpower he could muster, he stopped her by taking hold of her wrist and forced her chin upward with his other hand. His eyes searched hers. “I love you, Tory,” he said, his voice rough. “I always have. But I want you to be sure about this…stop me now, if you have to, while it’s still possible.”