Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 34

Her fingertips toyed with the dark, springy curls surrounding his manhood, experimentally touching the twin sacs pulled up tight against his body. And then her hand circled the base of his arousal, holding it still while she lowered her mouth and licked the very tip.

She felt the shudder roll through him and took it as encouragement. Her hair fell about her head, dusting his thighs as she took the rest of his length between her lips.

She reveled at the difference in textures he seemed to encompa.s.s. Soft, yet hard, like velvet covering steel.

He filled her mouth and she s.h.i.+vered with excitement, feeling somehow more powerful and womanly than ever, now that she knew she could bring this sort of pleasure to him.

He flexed beneath her, his body stretching and arching like the bow of a violin.

"Gwen."

His hands tangled in her hair, both holding her in place and trying to draw her away. She ignored him, continuing to lick and suck his stiff shaft.

"Gwen, sweetheart." This time he tugged harder, until she faced him.

"If you don't stop," he told her in a gravelly tone, "I'm going to come. And I don't want to do that without you."

She smiled and climbed back up his body, kissing him deeply when he reached for her and drew her mouth down to his.

Sitting back, she wiggled until she felt the tip of him slipping along her opening and let it slide straight into her. She loved the feel of that long, hard length of steel filling her so fully.

His hips arched beneath her, driving him even farther inside, and she rode him. Slow and easy, their lips still locked, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swaying between them.

He let out a low groan, his fingers digging into the flesh of her upper arms, and then suddenly, he froze.

"Wait," he gasped.

Tightening his grasp on her arms, he lifted her bodily away from him. He pushed her back, at the same time moving until he could lean against the headboard.

"I'm sorry," he told her, his chest rising and falling with the effort it took to draw air into his lungs. "I didn't mean to push you away, but we couldn't keep going like that."

c.o.c.king her head to the side, she waited for him to explain, since she'd thought things were going pretty darn well.

"I'm not wearing protection," he said finally.

Gwen looked down at his uncovered manhood, and then back up to meet his eyes.

What had she done? she thought, as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. A minute or two more, and they both could have been in big trouble.

She was pretending to be this worldly, knowledgeable woman, but it was suddenly clear she knew next to nothing about having casual s.e.x.

All she needed was to wind up pregnant to some guy she'd met in a bar. Even if her heart told her Ethan was much more than just "some guy."

Her heart wouldn't be the one seen as an unwed mother. Her heart wouldn't have to deal with the very real possibility that Ethan would want nothing to do with her after tonight, even if she did wind up pregnant. And her heart certainly wouldn't be the one raising a child alone.

Not that having a child-Ethan's child-wouldn't give her some sort of comfort. She could have a piece of him, then, to keep near her always and remind her of the short span of time when he'd made her feel truly alive.

Gwen gave herself a mental shake. What was wrong with her? She wasn't some adolescent girl who believed a baby was going to solve all her problems or tie a man to her forever. She was an adult, and even if her decisions lately hadn't been the smartest she'd ever made, she certainly didn't need to add another blunder to her list of sins. She would have to be more careful.

"It's all right," Ethan said, drawing her out of her inner turmoil. "I don't think we went far enough that we need to worry."

Leaning across the disheveled bedding, he reached into the nightstand for a condom packet and waved it triumphantly in the air. "We won't be taking any more chances, though."

When she didn't respond, he smoothed a hand through her hair and scooted forward to kiss her gently on the lips. "Really. I think we're okay."

Swallowing past the lump of emotion lodged in her throat, she nodded. No, they wouldn't take any more chances. And, no, they weren't okay. Because, come morning, she could no longer continue with her lies, which meant that the relations.h.i.+p would end. But she had this last night with Ethan, and she tried valiantly to reclaim the pa.s.sion and excitement that had been coursing through her veins only moments before.

His lips quirked in a devilish smile as he looked at her, and she knew he had some kind of trick up his sleeve.

"Since you seem to be feeling adventurous tonight," he whispered in a husky tone, "will you let me take you from behind?"

A ripple of excitement washed over her as she imagined him doing just that. It would be another first. Another daring, wanton activity she might never experience again.

Because she couldn't imagine trusting any lover but Ethan.

"All right," she answered before she had time to change her mind.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, then slowly eased out from under her while she wrapped her arms around one of the bed's fluffy pillows and lowered herself onto her belly on the warm, satiny sheets.

Pulling the hair away from her face, he kissed her cheek and nape before letting his lips trail the long line of her spine. At the same time, she heard him tear open the condom wrapper and cover himself with the thin layer of protection.

A moment later, his hands were on her bare flesh, teasing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and waist and the heat between her legs.

"You can tell me to stop at any time," he whispered.

The words vibrated along her skin where his lips caressed her.

She didn't think stopping was an option. Already, she could feel her feminine channel moistening and tightening in antic.i.p.ation.

Gently, he lifted her hips. Her head and shoulders remained on the bed, comfortably cus.h.i.+oned by the navy satin bedclothes.

He leaned forward, kissing her shoulder while one hand cupped her breast, the other dipping into her wet warmth. His fingers found the tight little bud hidden within her curls and stroked it expertly, making her moan and arch her hips even higher. Knowing she was more than ready for anything he might do, he found her opening and slipped inside.

Gwen gasped as he filled her, loving the sensations he created in this reverse position. He held himself still for a moment, though she could feel the restraint it took in the tautness of his muscles everywhere they touched.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She rolled her head on the sheets, letting him know she was. Possibly more than all right. Warm mola.s.ses was pouring through her veins, even as sharp bursts of sensation sparked, making her feel alive and aware.

Once he knew she was okay, he started moving slowly in and out, coordinating the motion of his hips with the dance of his fingers within her folds. Fire built low in her belly with each hard thrust of his steely length deep inside, and the rub of his callused fingertips on the swollen b.u.t.ton of her desire.

She found herself rising up on the heels of her hands, wanting to be more involved, wanting to be closer. When Ethan drove forward, she drove back until they were moving in tandem, gasping for air, reaching for completion.

Her stomach tightened, her internal muscles following suit. And then she was flying over the edge, immeasurable pleasure coursing through her as she cried out his name.

Behind her, she felt Ethan stiffen. His fingers locked onto her hips like talons as he climaxed inside her with a guttural moan.

Seconds later they fell onto the bed in a tangle of limp, sweaty limbs.

Ethan fumbled beneath their exhausted forms until he'd loosened the sheets and covered them both. His arms wrapped around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, her breath still ragged from exertion and the intensity of the o.r.g.a.s.m he'd just wrung from her.

His fingers combed distractedly through the hair at her temples, lulling her even deeper toward sleep, and she wished things could always be like this between them.

She wished he knew the real Gwen Thomas, and was as attracted to her as he seemed to be to the Gwen he thought she was. Or she wished her alter ego's personality was her own so that there was nothing to hide from him.

But she'd already started down the wrong road with him and didn't see any way to go back. If she could, though, she would do whatever it took to stay in this relations.h.i.+p, to build something real and lasting with him.

Provided he was interested, of course. Because now she knew for sure...she didn't just l.u.s.t after him, didn't just think she might be in love.

Somewhere between the first night she'd walked into The Hot Spot and now, she'd fallen head over heels, no-other-man-will-ever-do in love with him. She wanted to stay with him-in his bed, in his arms, in his life-forever.

It wasn't to be, of course. She knew that. But a girl could dream.

A few hours later Gwen blinked awake in the inky darkness. Ethan was stretched out beside her. His chest rose and fell steadily with his even breathing, and for long minutes she simply watched him while he slept.

Glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table, she saw that it was nearly 3:00 a.m.

She felt like Cinderella, running late at the ball. If she stayed until morning, she was likely to turn back into a charwoman. But if she left now, Ethan would continue to believe she'd been a beautiful-if temporary-princess.

Her heart squeezed at the thought of never seeing him again, but she didn't have a choice. It was better to go now, with the memories of their time together pleasant and fresh in her mind.

Before he found out who she really was, and began to hate her for lying to him.

Lifting the sheet, she gently extricated herself from Ethan's hold, peeling her arm from his chest, sliding her leg out from under his. When she lowered her bare feet over the edge of the bed, they sank into the plush carpeting.

Sneaking around in the dark, she collected her clothing by the trickle of moonlight s.h.i.+ning through a single window on the far side of the room. She looked to the bed as she fastened her bra and s.h.i.+mmied into her dress, rea.s.suring herself that Ethan was still asleep. She stuck her feet into the high heels, not bothering with stockings. Those she stuffed into her tiny clutch, which she'd found on his black lacquer dresser.

She was halfway into the hall but couldn't bring herself to leave. Not just yet.

Tiptoeing back to the bed, she leaned over Ethan's still form.

"Goodbye," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them lightly to his stubbled cheek. "I love you."

He never moved, never gave any sign that she'd woken him or that he'd heard her heartfelt declaration. And that was for the best, she knew.

Before she broke into uncontrolled sobs, she hurried from the room and out of the apartment...just like Cinderella running from her handsome Prince Charming.

Ten.

E than rolled over in bed, his arm stretching out for the woman he knew should be there beside him. Unlike the last time he'd expected to wake up with Gwen, this time he knew, deep down in his gut, that she wasn't there.

Dammit. What was it with this woman that she couldn't stay in bed through the night? He swore the next time he managed to get her into bed, he wasn't ever letting go of her again.

Pus.h.i.+ng himself up on his elbows, he sat stunned for a moment.

Had he just admitted, even silently, that he didn't want to be rid of Gwen? That, in fact, he wished she were still here, close to him, ready to share the day?

Her scent still surrounded him. It was on his skin and on his sheets. In his nostrils and pores and soul.

But it was more than the physical. It was the way she made him feel, and how he woke up in the mornings wondering when he would next see her. Wanting to see her.

That didn't mean he wanted to be with her, though. Did it?

"All right, Banks," he told himself, striving for calm. "Think about this. Think long and hard."

Did wanting to see Gwen every chance he got-basically wanting to be with her twenty-four hours a day-mean he was ready to make things exclusive? Maybe even...permanent?

He waited for the customary panic to overtake him. Waited for his brain to conjure the memory of Susan's betrayal and to think about all the women he'd be foregoing at the club if he committed to an exclusive relations.h.i.+p.

Nothing. No panic, no cause for regret.

He thought about Susan and how it had felt when she'd left him. Usually, white-hot anger and resentment followed, pretty much putting him in a lousy mood for the rest of the day.

Now, however, he found himself feeling...nothing. Yeah, Susan was a part of his past, his marriage to her something he definitely wouldn't do again if he had the chance. But the thought of her, and how she'd used him, didn't seem to send his blood pressure soaring anymore.

Interesting.

Then he thought of Gwen, and a warm, soothing sensation flowed over him. He realized-quite suddenly and with utmost certainty-that Gwen was not Susan, in any way, shape, or form.

He pictured Gwen's long brown hair and the touch of a smile that always seemed to grace her lips. He heard her laugh, and experienced the same rush of adrenaline that always washed over him when she was with him.

From there, his mind turned to a possible future, if he and Gwen stayed together.

He saw her hand linked with his, their bodies brus.h.i.+ng as they walked together. He saw her curled up on the couch in his office at the club while he worked at his desk, or at the end of the bar, sipping a fruity pink drink while he took orders behind the bar.

He saw her in his apartment, making herself at home. He saw her walking down the aisle of a church where he waited to make her his bride. And then he saw them several years down the road, two or three children dancing around a Christmas tree while he and Gwen stood back, watching them open the presents Santa had brought, even though they'd spent all of December tracking them down.

Oh, my G.o.d. He was in love with her.

Once again he waited for the panic to come, but once again it didn't. An immediate sense of contentment settled into every fragment of his being instead.

For the first time since Susan had left him, he wasn't afraid of getting serious with a woman.

He wasn't afraid of the idea of marriage and family.

And he most especially wasn't afraid of love.

Cursing, he sat up on the edge of the bed, driving his fingers through his hair in frustration. Great. He finally figured out that he was in love with Gwen Thomas and she'd run out on him-again.

Well, he had no intention of letting her go.