The One And Only

“We’re colleagues.”

“We work in the same—”

“Shh,” he ordered, but softly, his voice a caress, too.

“I know this isn’t wise.” She wished she didn’t sound so desperate.

“I agree.”

Running his hand under her tank top, he rubbed across her back, trailing his fingers into the indentation of her spine and sliding them up and down. He explored farther.

“Where’s the catch?” he asked.

“It’s a sports bra. There isn’t one.”

“Oh.”

He explored the cotton material with his sure, skillful touch that sent cascades of sensation down, down, down into her. Excitement grew as she experienced the enticing movement of his hard body against hers.

The rainbow hues of mutual need slowly overtook her as they kissed again, then again, each time more deeply, more intimately. He skimmed her breasts, then cupped them in his palms and rubbed his thumbs along the hard points that formed under his touch.

The sounds of a hammer next door disappeared. The lazy drone of a fly against the window became but an odd counter-beat to the drumming in her heart.

“Never thought I’d feel this,” he said, pushing her top up and staring at the outline of her nipples against the gray cotton of her sports bra. He looked into her eyes. “I never knew hunger could be this strong.”

She couldn’t look away from the blazing need. “It’s too strong,” she protested softly. “Too much, too soon.”

“But it’s there.”

His gaze dared her to deny it. She couldn’t. “I don’t want to feel this.”

“Then stop it,” he said, mocking her. He nibbled at her breasts through the cloth. “I can’t.” He pressed his face into the valley between her breasts and inhaled deeply. “But then, I don’t want to.”

Before she quite realized what was happening, he took a step, then another. She stepped back with him, following as if they engaged in some strange dance, accompanied by the mad music in her blood, that took them wherever it would.

When she felt the bed behind her knees, she realized, with a stricken jolt, exactly where they were going.

“Beau…” she said raggedly, pushing against him.

Her voice sounded reedy and uncertain. She shook her head when he bent to her mouth once more. He clasped her hands, moved them behind her, pulling her close, and took her mouth in a kiss that demanded total participation.

Panic eddied through her blood even as electricity arced between them. This had to stop. She had to…to breathe, but she couldn’t…she couldn’t think…

Her thoughts were like a flock of wild birds, whirling and swirling through her mind too swiftly and too frightened to come to the perch of reason. She struggled to free her hand, got one loose and, twisting, raked down his chest with her fingernails—an instinctive act of self-preservation.

His head jerked up. They stared at one another.

Slowly he released her and backed up a step. The breath rushed into her lungs, making her dizzy.

Glancing down, he observed the four red lines standing in ridges on his skin. He turned his gaze from them to her. “No woman has ever marked me before,” he said, not in anger or accusation, but as if in deep thought, as if wondering about the marks—how they’d happened and why.

Pressing her shaky hands against her breast, she confessed, “I’ve never done anything like that. I don’t know why I did. It…it was like I couldn’t breathe. Everything was going dark.” She stopped because she didn’t know how to explain the unexplainable.

He smiled and it was full of gentle irony. The ache inside her returned. “I don’t think I’ve ever frightened a woman before, certainly not like this.” He touched her cheek with exquisite tenderness. “It’s strong, isn’t it?”

She clasped her arms over her middle and nodded.

“This hunger,” he continued as if thinking out loud. “It’s different, more than I’ve ever experienced, so much so that I didn’t get your signals at first.”

“Signals?”

“The panic,” he reminded her softly, and rubbed across her lips with one finger, then dropped his hand and stepped back another foot, giving her room. “I was too lost…” He hesitated, then shook his head. “That’s never happened to me before—to get so lost in passion that everything else disappeared. It’ll be different next time,” he promised.

She moved sideways until she was on a line for the door. She hurried toward it. She managed to laugh and pretend it was all a joke. “I don’t think we should attempt a next time.”

“I do.”

The words were barely audible as she rushed across the charming living room and out the front door. The hammering at the resort stopped. She stared distractedly at the twin brothers, who stared back with frank interest.

The door closed behind her.

“Do you want the place?” Beau asked. “I’ll keep the rent reasonable.”

“You?” she questioned, turning from the stares next door.

“I bought the cottage. It seemed a good idea since it was next to the lodge. The new homeowners might have given us trouble over parking or noisy guests.”

She tried to think clearly. “Perhaps it would be best if—” She faltered on the brink of refusing the offer. She glanced at the cottage and knew she still wanted it.

“Good. Do you need help moving in?”

“No.”

“Okay. I have to get back to work. See you in the morning. I’ll give you a key then.”

She blinked and realized he thought she had accepted. But why shouldn’t she rent it? It was charming. It fit her needs. She would have it to herself. She followed him down the flagstone path to the road. “Wait, the rent,” she reminded him. “How much?”

“Two hundred a month.”

She stopped. “That’s a steal.”

He grinned over his shoulder. “So maybe you’ll feel guilty enough to invite me over for a home-cooked meal once in a while.”

With that, he strode across the grass and got back to work. His cousins looked at her, then him. Feeling that they knew every intimate touch that had occurred between her and Beau, she swung toward town and jogged back to the B and B as calmly as possible.

“Will you look at that?” Trevor said in awe.

Beau gave him a warning glare. He looked around, spotted his T-shirt and put it on.