“It’s happened twice.”
“Last time, you ran out on me.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who ran out which time. It will end the same. You won’t mean to hurt me, but you will.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I want to make you feel good, and if you were honest with me, like you wish me to be with you, you’d admit that you want me, too.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed. “I hate that word.”
“Sorry, but there’s too much between us to have it any other way.”
“Are you still trying to punish me for what happened seven years ago, or is it just an excuse?” He planted his hands on the wall next to her head. “What are you afraid of?”
“Not you.”
He cupped her chin in his palm. “Liar. You’re afraid Daddy isn’t going to love you.”
Her breath caught in her lungs. “That was cruel.”
“Maybe, but it’s the truth.” His thumb slipped across her closed lips. He wrapped his free hand around her wrist. “You’re afraid to reach out and take what you want, but I’m not. I know what I want.” He slid her palm across his hard chest and down the buttons of his shirt. “Are you still trying to be a good girl so Daddy will notice you? Well, guess what, baby doll,” he whispered as he moved her hand to the front of his pants and pressed his thick erection into her palm. “I noticed.”
“Stop it,” she said, and lost control of her tears. She hated him. She loved him. She wanted him to stay as badly as she wanted him to go. He’d been crude and cruel, but he’d been right. She was terrified he’d touch her, and afraid he wouldn’t. She was afraid to take what she wanted, scared he’d make her miserable and unhappy. She was already miserable and unhappy. There was no way she could win. He was like a drug, an addiction, and she was hooked. “Don’t do this to me.”
John wiped a tear from her cheek and let go of her hand. “I want you, and I’m not afraid to play dirty.”
She had to cut herself off from John, quit cold turkey. Check herself into rehab. No more hot kisses or touches or hungry glances. She had to get tough. “You just want a piece of… of…”
John shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want just a piece. I want it all.”
Chapter Nineteen
John looked into Georgeanne’s eyes and chuckled silently. She was trying to be tough but couldn’t even bring herself to say the word “ass.” It was just one of the thing that fascinated him about her. “I want your heart, your mind, and your body.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. “I want all of you-forever,” he whispered, and wrapped his arm around her waist. Her palms flattened against his chest as if she meant to push him away, but then she opened her soft mouth, and he felt a triumph so sweet it nearly sent him to his knees. He craved her body and soul, and he lifted her onto her toes and fed his hunger. Within seconds the kiss became a carnal feeding frenzy of mouths and tongues and hot, hot pleasure. John unzipped the back of her dress, then reached for the shoulders. He pulled down the dress, and the thin straps of her slip and bra, stripping her to her waist. Her arms were pinned to her sides, and he drew back to view her plump, naked breasts spilled toward him like his personal vision of heaven. He wrapped one arm around her waist and he lowered his face and placed a soft kiss on the very tip of her left breast. His tongue licked the puckered flesh and she moaned. She arched toward him, and he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Georgeanne struggled to free her arms, but he held her tight.
“John,” she moaned. “I want to touch you.”
He loosened his grasp and moved to suckle her right breast. He was ready. He’d been ready for months. The ache in his groin urged him to shove her against the wall, pull her dress up to her waist, and bury himself deep inside her hot, wet body. Now.
She freed her arms from the tangle of straps and pulled his shirttails from his pants. John straightened and looked into her drowsy eyes. Before he could give in to his urge and take her right there by her front door, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the rear of the house. “Where’s your bedroom?” he asked as he moved down the hall. “I know there’s one here somewhere.”
“Last door on the left.”
John entered the room and stopped dead in his tracks. The bed had a floral quilt and a lace canopy. A half dozen or so frilly pillows were tossed against the headboard. Flowers were printed on the wallpaper and on the fabric of the chairs. A big floral wreath hung above one dresser, and two vases of flowers sat about the room. He’d just stepped into girly central.
Georgeanne walked past him, holding her dress to her breasts. “What’s wrong?”
He looked at her, standing there surrounded by flowers, attempting to shield herself with her hands, and failing miserably. “Nothing, except you’re still dressed.”
“So are you.”
He smiled and stepped out of his shoes. “Not for long.” Within seconds he’d stripped down to nothing, and when he returned his gaze to Georgeanne, he nearly exploded. She stood just beyond his reach, in nothing but a pair of skimpy panties and two stockings secured at her thighs with pink garters. His gaze moved from the enticing expanse of thigh just above the garters to her full hips. Her breasts were beautiful and round, her shoulders smooth, her face gorgeous. He reached for her and pulled her against him. She was hot and soft and everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. He meant to go slow. He wanted to make love to her, to prolong their pleasure. But he couldn’t. He felt like a kid running toward his favorite playground, unable to stop; the only thing holding him back was his own indecision over where to play first. He wanted her mouth, shoulder, and breasts. He wanted to kiss her belly, thighs, between her legs.
He pushed her onto the bed, then rolled with her on top. He kissed her mouth and slid his hands down her back to her behind. He wrapped his fist in her panties and yanked them down her legs. His erection pressed into her smooth stomach and he ground it against her. The tension in his groin pulled tighter, tighter, until he thought he might explode.
He wanted to wait. He wanted to make sure she was ready. He wanted to be a tender lover. He rolled her onto her back and forced her panties from her legs. He sat back on his heels and looked at her, naked excep
t for a pair of nylons and two garters. She raised her arms to him, and he knew he couldn’t wait. He covered her with his body, hips cradled between her smooth thighs, and he placed his palms on both sides of her face. “I love you, Georgeanne,” he whispered as he looked into her green eyes. “Tell me you love me.”