Donna Sterling - Sex And The Sleepwalker

He had to convince her. Had to convey his feelings. Had to close the distance between them and keep her here, in his bed. Make her want him again. Make her need him…deep inside this time.

Splaying his fingers along the delicate curve of her face, he kissed her.

It began as a gentle nudge of his mouth. A signal of intent. A silky, sweet “Hello, may I come in?” With a sigh—not of reluctance, but of pleasure—she opened to him. The kiss progressed slowly at first, into a simple inhalation of mingled breath, a savoring of scent and texture. A blossoming of erotic warmth. A sensuous sliding of smooth, tender flesh in a sumptuous, mutual tasting.

Ahh, but that wasn’t nearly enough. Not for him or for her. In a simultaneous rush, they surged closer, delved deeper. The heat intensified with startling suddenness, like a flame touched to tinder.

Cade reveled in the blaze, in the freedom to hold, squeeze, feel and indulge. She reveled in it, too, he knew, her pleasure evident in the quickening of her breath and the tiny hums and moans vibrating her throat. He’d forgotten how eloquent her kisses were.

And he’d forgotten the way she moved whenever he kissed her—the provocative arching of her back. The instinctive ebb and flow of her hips. The crush and rub of her breasts against him, as if she were driven to get close, closer, closest….

No, he hadn’t forgotten. Any of it. Every detail was indelibly etched somewhere in his being. He’d deliberately turned away from those memories. But she was back in his arms now, his body conforming to hers, moving with hers, moving against hers, with a growing need to dominate, penetrate. Merge. The subtle movement of her pelvis stroked him to unbearable hardness.

He slid his hands down the bare, lush curves of her body, captured her bottom and rocked his arousal against her, straining at the barrier of their underwear. And each new joining of their mouths incited an even more voluptuous kiss.

The fire leaping inside him was one he hadn’t felt for nine years, and he fed it now with serious intent. Hooking his thumbs into the sides of her little satin panties, he tugged them down to midthigh. He’d have to get a condom from his wallet, he knew, but not quite yet. He couldn’t bear to pause just yet….

“Cade.” She broke the kiss, flushed and panting. “We’ve got to stop.”

Stop? He couldn’t have understood her. Or maybe she’d meant that it was time to get a condom.

“Soon,” he murmured, loath to release her even for a moment. He kissed her again and led her back to those enticing undulations, spreading her thighs as far as the panties would allow. The satin garment had to go. And so did his briefs.

“Now,” she whispered faintly against his mouth as he tugged at the waistband of his briefs. “We have to stop now.”

He kissed her again into silence, not allowing himself to worry too much. This wasn’t like their make-out sessions in college. She wouldn’t leave him high and dry. They were adults, and she wanted him. She’d come to his bed, stripped off her gown and was kissing him even now with a feverish need, a very sexual need.

A tortured groan escaped her, and she caught his hands in her own. “Cade, I…I have to think about this.”

Think about this, she’d said. Not get a condom. Surprise made Cade pull back to read her face. “Think about what?”

“This. Us.” Her expression was troubled as she squirmed from beneath him and sat up. “Having sex.”

“Don’t think so much.” He levered himself up on one arm and hijacked her mouth in another kiss—a little more urgent than the ones they’d been sharing. A little more impatient.

She matched his impatience with a roughness of her own, an exhilarating thrust and parry that roused him all the more.

But then she broke away, panting as if she’d been wrestling rather than kissing. “I know you’re right. I do think too much. And you’re right about our kisses, too.” She paused to catch her breath, her eyes luminous, her color high, her hair tousled and sexy. “Just kissing you makes me hotter than…than…oh, never mind.”

She initiated the kiss this time.

Fire leaped within him, and his next kiss pressed her back against the pillows. She groaned, wrapped an arm around his neck and arched against him. He rubbed a greedy hand over her breast until the tender peak stood high and tight and scraped across his palm.

She gasped, writhed and ran her silky knee up his thigh…up, up, up, to the tip of his erection, sending shards of heat through his groin.

With a sharp hiss of breath, he plunged his hand in a downward path toward the dark curls glistening between her thighs.

She caught his hand again, though, just shy of his destination, and held it. “This is wrong. I can’t let myself do this.” She pulled away from him and scooted to the side of the bed.

Dazed and shaken, Cade watched in disbelief as she rose and pulled up her panties. “I’m sorry, Cade.”

Sorry. Which meant she was doing it again! Just as she had in college—leaving him all hot and bothered and half-crazed. “Brynn,” he said, his voice inhumanly gruff, “what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going back to my room.” She found her rumpled nightgown on the floor, slipped the filmy fabric over her head and smoothed it down her maddening body.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t jump into bed with you without even thinking about it.”

He sprang from the bed, crossed the room in two long strides and trapped her against the dresser, anchoring his arms on either side of her. “In case you don’t remember, you did jump into bed with me without even thinking about it. You also stripped off your clothes, kissed me into a goddamn fever—”

“I know, I know!” She glanced at the erection straining beneath his briefs, and looked away with a guilty wince. “I’m sorry about that, but—”

“What are you afraid of, Brynn?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then what is it?” A thought hit him, and he asked with a curious tightness in his jaw, “Are you in love with someone else?” The tightness spread to his chest. “The guy who makes you think you’re frigid?”

“No!” She frowned at him, and relief rushed through his veins. “I’m not in love with anyone. And don’t talk about Antoine that way.”

“Antoine? He’s French?”

She nodded, and Cade scowled. There was something about Frenchmen that drove women a little crazy. “If you’re not in love with this Antoine, then what’s stopping you from having sex with me? If you think you don’t want to, you’re lying to yourself.”

“Oh, I know I want to.” Her voice had gone all throaty and her gaze warmed. “There’s always been sexual chemistry between us. I’ve never denied that.”

Cade pressed closer, longing for the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body moving beneath his.

Her gaze grew apologetic, though, and he had to hold back a curse. “But…well…” She searched for words that clearly evaded her.

“But what, damn it?”

“You’re…Cade Hunter.”

He stared at her, nonplussed. What the hell did she mean by that? Before he was able to decipher the statement in any rational way, she ducked under his arm and fled across the room, her sheer gown billowing out behind her.

“That’s no answer,” he called, bewildered, riled and more sexually frustrated than he’d thought humanly possible.

She didn’t reply, stopping only to scoop up the keys she’d dropped when she first entered the room.

He fisted his hands to keep from grabbing her and carrying her back to bed. “If you walk out that door, Brynn,” he warned, his voice harsh and uncompromising, “don’t—”

He stopped, precariously on the verge of saying, Don’t come back to my room unless you’re ready to make love.

As if she heard what he’d left unsaid, she froze on the way to the door and turned a forbidding frown on him. “Don’t…what?”

“Don’t…forget that you…said you were going to think about it—about…finishing what we started.” He forced the impromptu words through a throat severely constricted by pent-up pressure. “So, do that. Think about it.”

She regarded him in clear surprise, then slowly nodded. “I will.” Bowing her head, she hurried out of his room.

Cade released an explosive breath, feeling as if he’d stopped just short of driving blindly off a cliff. He’d come close to giving her the same ultimatum he’d been cursing himself over for nine long years.

At least he’d learned from his mistake.

And that just might have earned him what he now wanted more than anything—one more chance with her.

THE FIRST THING BRYNN DID the next morning was to order from a local health-food store a special combination of herbs she’d taken back in college to help stop her sleepwalking. She wasn’t sure if the herbs had worked, but she had eventually stopped the disturbing habit, so it seemed worth taking the concoction again.

She also dug through the crate of papers, letters and mementos she’d kept from her college days until she found the meditation cassettes that might have helped, as well. Again, she wasn’t sure that they had, but they certainly hadn’t hurt.

She then called the nearest security company and ordered a computerized lock for her bedroom door that required fairly complex steps to open. Steps she couldn’t possibly follow in her sleep. Hoping the new lock would keep her in her own bedroom at night, she paid an exorbitant fee to have it installed that day.

At least she would have control of her whereabouts at night. Any amount of money was worth ensuring that.

A workman arrived that morning. As Brynn watched him install the lock, she thought about last night’s debacle. She couldn’t believe she’d gone to Cade’s room, stripped off her gown and climbed into bed with him. As humiliating as that loss of self-control had been, she’d learned something she’d wanted to know. Time had not glorified her memories of Cade. He still kindled an awesome heat in her that no one else ever had.

Should she explore that heat and see how far it could take her toward the bliss she remembered from long ago? Or should she forget about the utterly thrilling moments she’d spent in his bed, and keep him at a distance?

It had taken her years to get over the emotional damage he’d done to her, to forget her feelings for him, to convince herself she was better off without him. Now was not the time to backslide. And after being kissed into a sensual heat that still simmered in her blood, she was afraid she could easily do so.

She wished she didn’t have to see Cade until she had decided what to do. Her duties, however, called for her to put in an appearance at the Friday lunch buffet.

She didn’t stay long. Uncertain about her plans regarding him and feeling guilty for interrupting his sleep, then leaving him unsatisfied, she barely risked a glance at him while she chatted with the other guests. She escaped to her private suite as soon as possible with a sandwich and cup of cappuccino.

That was why she missed his startling revelation about himself, which sent Trish and Lexi scurrying to her sitting room immediately after lunch for an emergency meeting.

“A travel journalist?” Brynn frowned at her business partners as if they’d been lacing their coffee with too much Irish Cream again. “Cade told you he’s a journalist?”

“An author of four travel books.” Trish tossed a business card into Brynn’s lap, on top of a stack of paperwork. Brynn set her work aside, curled her legs beside her on the armchair and read Cade’s card, while Lexi sank down onto the sofa and watched her face for a reaction.