She pulled at the waistband of his shorts. “And you won’t be needing these.”
“Hell, I only kept them on because I figured you’d fight like a wildcat if I came after you stark naked.” He dealt with his shorts as rapidly as he had her underwear.
She was already excited by the anticipation of his slow, thorough loveplay. Quinlan was a man who enjoyed the preliminaries and prolonged them, as she had learned during the one night she had spent with him. It didn’t happen this time, though. He pushed her legs open, knelt between them and entered her with a heavy thrust that jarred her. The shock of it reverberated through her body; then her inner muscles clamped down in an effort to slow that inexorable invasion.
He pushed deeper, groaning at the tightness of
her, until he was in her to the hilt. She writhed, reaching down to grasp his thighs and hold him there, but he slowly withdrew, then just as slowly pushed back into her.
“Did your husband make you feel like this?” he whispered.
Her head rolled on the cushions at the speed and intensity of the sensations. It was an effort to concentrate on his words. “N-no,” she finally sighed.
“Good.” He couldn’t keep the savage satisfaction out of his voice. He didn’t like the thought of anyone else pleasing her. This was something she had known only with him; he had realized it immediately when they had first made love, but he had needed to hear her say it, admit that she had given her response to no one else.
He teased her with another slow withdrawal and thrust. “What did he do to you?” he murmured, and pulled completely away from her.
Her eyes opened in protest and she reached for him, moaning low in her throat as she tried to reestablish that delicious contact. Then comprehension made her eyes flare wider, and she jerked backward, away from him, trying to sit up. “You bastard!” she said in a strangled tone.
Quinlan caught her hips and dragged her back, slipping into her once again. “Tell me,” he said relentlessly. “Did he mistreat you? Hurt you in any way? What in hell did he do that you’re making me pay for?”
Elizabeth wrenched away from him again. She felt ill, all desire gone. How could he have done that to her? She fought to cover herself with his shirt, all the while calling herself several harsh names for her stupidity in thinking they could have this night, that she could give herself a block of time unattached to either past or present. She should have remembered that Quinlan never gave up.
No, he never gave up. So why didn’t she tell him? It wouldn’t be easy for her to relive it, but at least then he would know why she refused to allow him any authority in her life, why she had denied herself the love she so desperately wanted to give him.
She curled away from him, letting her head fall forward onto her knees so her hair hid her face. He tried to pull her back into his arms, into his lovemaking, but she resisted him, her body stiff in reaction to the memories already swamping her.
“Don’t touch me!” she said hoarsely. “You wanted to know, so sit there and listen, but don’t—don’t touch me.”
Quinlan frowned, feeling vaguely uneasy. He had deliberately pushed her, though he hadn’t intended to push so hard that she withdrew from him, but that was what had happened. His body was still tight with desire, demanding release. He ground his teeth together, grimly reaching for control; if Elizabeth was ready to talk, after all these months, then he was damn well going to listen.
She didn’t lift her head from her knees, but in the silent, darkening lobby, he could plainly hear every soft word.
“I met him when I was a senior in college. Eric. Eric Landers. But you already know his name, don’t you? It was in your damn report. He owned an upscale decorating firm, and getting a part-time job there was a real plum.”
She sighed. The little sound was sad, and a bit tired. “He was thirty-five. I was twenty-one. And he was handsome, sophisticated, self-assured, worldly, with quite a reputation as both a ladies’ man and a well-known professional. I was more than flattered when he asked me out, I was absolutely giddy. Chickie would seem grim compared to the way I felt.
“We dated for about three months before he asked me to marry him, and for three months I felt like a princess. He took me everywhere, wined and dined me at the best places. He was interested in every minute of my day, in everything I did. A real princess couldn’t have been more coddled. I was a virgin—a bit unusual, to stay that way through college, but I’d been studying hard and working part-time jobs, too, and I hadn’t had time for much socializing. Eric didn’t push me for sex. He said he could wait until our wedding night, that since I had remained a virgin that long, he wanted to give me all the traditional trappings.”
“Let me guess,” Quinlan said grimly. “He was gay.”
She shook her head. “No. His ladies’ man reputation was for real. Eric was very gentle with me on our wedding night. I’ll give him that. He never mistreated me that way.”
“If you don’t mind,” Quinlan interrupted, his teeth coming together with an audible snap, “I’d rather not hear about your sex life with him, if that wasn’t the problem.”
Elizabeth was surprised into lifting her head. “Are you jealous?” she asked warily.
He rubbed his hand over his jaw; as late in the day as it was, his five-o’clock shadow had become more substantial and made a rasping sound as his hand passed over it. “Not jealous, exactly,” he muttered. “I just don’t want to hear it, if you enjoyed making love with him. Hell, yes, I’m jealous!”
She gave a spurt of laughter, startling herself. She had never expected to be able to laugh while discussing Eric Landers, but Quinlan’s frustration was so obvious that she couldn’t help it.
“I don’t mind giving the devil his due,” she said in a generous tone. “You can pat yourself on the back, because you know you were the first to—umm—”
“Satisfy you,” he supplied. A sheepish expression crossed his face.
“I’m not very experienced. You’re the only man I’ve gone to bed with since my divorce. After Eric, I just didn’t want to let anyone close to me.”
She didn’t continue, and the silence stretched between them. It was growing darker by the minute as the sun set completely, and she was comforted by the shield of night. “Why?” Quinlan finally asked.