The Cutting Edge (9 page)

She sagged abruptly against him as her knees wobbled and lost their ability to hold her upright. Just as swiftly, he swung her up in his arms and took the few steps to the closest chair, settling into it with her draped over his lap. Tessa opened her love-drugged eyes, the green depths deep and dreamy as she looked at him. Her hands wound around his strong neck. “I've tried not to love you,” she whispered achingly, unable to hold her love secret, “but I can't stop myself.”

A strong shudder rolled through him at her words. It didn't matter how many other men had heard the words of love from her luscious mouth. It didn't even matter that he'd never wanted a woman to love him. He'd always been coolly indifferent to any feelings of devotion he might have aroused…until Tessa. She was a challenge like none he'd encountered before. It wasn't the resistance she'd put up against him, because she really hadn't resisted him at all. Rather, she'd eluded him, letting him glimpse her womanly richness, then flitting away out of reach. She was so intensely female that he instinctively wanted her; she was a woman who could match the fierceness of his masculinity. In loving him, she gave herself to him, and he wasn't inclined to let her go free again.

His left arm under her back, he arched her up to meet the hungry possession of his mouth, while with his free
hand he began opening the line of tiny buttons that marched down the front of her dress. Tessa trembled in his grasp, but didn't protest. She didn't want him to stop; she wanted him to love her like this forever. She'd learned that there was a time for giving and a time for taking. This was her time to give. She'd give all of herself to the man she loved, freely, with all the loving generosity of her nature. Her heart was slamming against her rib cage so violently that she felt dizzy, and in an effort to get more air she turned her head away from his kiss, exposing the tender, elegant line of her throat to him. He explored it with his hot mouth, and Tessa made a little whimpering sound. She wanted him; she needed him so much that she ached deep inside, and she clutched at him with desperate fingers.

“Slow down, slow down,” he murmured, easing the dress off her shoulders. “I want this to last a long time. Let's get this off you, so I can see you; I want to strip you naked and touch you all over.”

She pulled her arms out of the sleeves and lay back into the cradle of his arm, letting him look his fill at the way her breasts pushed at the thin silky fabric of the white camisole she wore. She hadn't worn a bra, so the dark pink nubs of her hardened nipples were clearly outlined, the small tips begging for his attention. His breath came harder and faster as he lifted her up and tugged the dress down around her hips, then pushed it down her legs and off. She lay on his lap, and his eyes burned her flesh as they moved slowly over her body. Besides the camisole, her only garments were her matching tap pants, a delicate lace garter belt, silk hosiery and her fragile high-heeled sandals. His hand drifted over her
body, learning the contours of her, stroking her silk-clad legs until he reached her ankles. Slowly he removed her shoes and let them drop; then his fingers trailed back up her legs. He fingered the elastic of her garters, and a look of almost brutal desire hardened his face.

“You should be put under lock and key,” he said gutturally, never taking his eyes from the path his hand traveled. His fingers curled under the waistband of her tap pants and he pulled them down, revealing the soft little hollow of her navel. He circled it with a gentle finger, then the as-yet uncovered riches of her body lured him on, and his hand moved upward to her breasts. He fondled her, his hand burning her flesh. Tessa twisted on his lap, wanting him to push the camisole away and touch her bare flesh.

“Please,” she begged softly, arching up to him.

“What is it you want?” he whispered. “Is it this?” He slid his hand inside the camisole and cupped her breast, his thumb rasping over her taut nipple and setting it on fire.

Tessa moaned, squirming against him. “Yes. Yes.” She began trembling so violently that her entire body quaked, and he soothed her, cuddling her closer against his hard frame while his hand continued to stroke her breasts.

“Easy, honey,” he crooned. “I'm going to give you what you want. Touch me; tell me what you want me to do to you.”

The first part of his instructions was easy to carry out. Her hands were drawn to him anyway, and she put them on his chest, feeling the heat of his body burning through his shirt. But the second part… . How could she
tell him, when all she knew was that she wanted him so badly she was dying from the exquisite pain of it? She was surrounded by his power, his sexuality.

“I don't know,” she whispered shakily, clinging to him. She drew a deep, wavering breath. “I don't know how to handle you.”

His blue eyes were so dark that they were almost black. “Sweetheart, you know exactly how to handle me. You know what I want.”

“But that's the problem, I don't.” Summoning up all her courage. Tessa gave him a tender, shaky smile. “Or rather, I know what you want, but I don't know how to go about it.”

Brett went very still, his eyes burning as they searched hers. He considered the meaning of her words, and because he was so sensually aroused and acutely aware of her every reaction, he went straight to the heart of the matter. “Tessa, haven't you ever had a man before?”

“No.” Her hands moved over his face. “I love you, and I want you to be the first.”

A curious spasm crossed his face; then he surged to his feet, with her held high in his arms. “I'll show you,” he muttered hoarsely. “I'll take care of you, honey. You don't have to be afraid.”

He strode swiftly to her bedroom and shouldered the door open, then crossed the room and placed her on the bed. He turned on the bedside lamp, and she stared up at his hard face. He didn't look cool and aloof now. He was burning with desire, all other thoughts wiped out of his mind. Gently he removed the rest of her clothing, leaving her lying nude on her bed, and she made
an instinctive move to shield her body from his probing gaze. “No, let me see you,” he said, and held her arms above her head while he touched every inch of her with his eyes. Incredible that this lovely, delicate piece of femininity had never lain uncovered before a man's hungry eyes before. Incredible that no other man before him had sheathed himself in her sweet depths. Incredible, but he didn't doubt her for a moment. Her innocence was part of her elusiveness. Her lack of sensual knowledge had enabled her to call a halt to his lovemaking when a more experienced woman, knowing what pleasure was in store for her, would have succumbed to the temptation.

And she was his, his alone. A primordial instinct that he'd never before realized he possessed made him want to brand her as his, so no other man would ever think of trespassing. He straightened and began removing his clothing.

Tessa watched him, her mouth going dry with excitement, her eyes hungry as she watched every stage of his disrobing. She hadn't realized quite how muscular he was. When his shirt was tossed aside, she gaped at the ripple of muscles beneath his smooth, tanned skin. His chest was broad and hard, roped with muscles, and tightly curled dark hair spread across it. His abdomen was flat and hard, and his legs were the powerfully muscled legs of a horseman. He lay down on the bed with her and leaned over her, gathering her close to him, and Tessa's eyes widened as she was overshadowed by the sheer size of him. Being naked in bed with him made her realize acutely the difference in their size and strength. She was helpless against his strength. If
she had any control at all in this situation, it was only because he allowed her to have it.

Her eyes filled with the instinctive fear every woman feels when lying down with a man for the first time. Brett saw it, and tenderness filled him. He leaned over her and began kissing her lightly, sweet kisses that didn't reveal the violence of his passion. No matter what it cost him, he wouldn't brutalize her. There would be time later for more urgent possessions, but not this time, not her first time. Still kissing her, he slowly began acquainting her with his touch.

Before long, Tessa was twisting in his arms again, her body on fire from the slow caresses that burned her flesh. He knew all her sweet places, and all of them felt the sorcery of his expert fingers. She dug her nails into his shoulders, her mind clouded with heat. She couldn't think; she couldn't do anything but arch and squirm, trying to find more of the maddening pleasure he was giving her. His hand was between her legs, and he was doing things to her that made tension coil unbearably deep inside of her. Tighter and tighter the coil became, and she sobbed at the unbearably delicious sensation that she was about to explode.

Brett rose above her, and settled himself intimately between her thighs. Catching her hips in his powerful hands, he held her still, and broached her virginity with excruciating slowness.

Tessa cried out as she felt herself being filled, but she wasn't aware that she'd made a sound. She was in the grip of something far more powerful than pain, something that banished everything from her consciousness except her body and the wildness that was crashing
through her as he took her. This wasn't a simple, basic physical act. It was an act of possession, the forging of a link between them that wove the very fabric of their beings together. She gave and he took, but in the taking found that the complexion of everything had changed. With every slow thrust he branded her as his, yet the threads that bound her to him also bound him to her. Shuddering with the intensity of his pleasure, every inch of him scalded by her hot sweetness, he paused to gather his slipping control.

Her face in the lamplight was both agonized and exalted, her eyes closed as her breath rushed in and out in a broken rhythm. Something tightened in his chest at the sight of her. “Am I hurting you, love?” he murmured urgently, unaware of the word he'd used for the first time in his life.

“No,” she moaned, her body undulating against him. “Yes…I don't know. Brett, I don't think I can stand this… .I'm flying apart… .”

“Shhh, it's all right,” he soothed, beginning again the slow movements that set him on fire. “Let go, baby. I'll catch you; I'll take care of you. Come on, darling, come on.” He moved against her, his teeth grinding as he strained to hold himself back, all of his attention focused on her, reading every response she gave him. His nude body gleamed with sweat, and his tawny hair was wet and dark.

Tessa's head rolled back and forth, and she cried out blindly. No words had been invented to describe the great waves of feeling that suddenly began crashing through her insides, making her surge upward. She cried his name. Then no other words were possible,
nothing was possible except that she give herself completely to the impossible sensations he'd aroused with his powerful masculinity. Dimly she was aware of the way he was moving now, with urgent power, and she heard his deep, growling cries of completion.

In the quiet aftermath, they lay together in silent exhaustion, his face turned into her throat. Tessa smoothed his hair, gently stroked his back and shoulders, though she was so tired that she felt herself drifting to sleep as she lay there. But before she slept, there was something she had to tell him. “I love you,” she murmured drowsily, a gift of words that came from her heart without premeditation. “Brett…love.” The two words were synonymous to her. She was immediately asleep, like a child, lying trustingly in his arms.

S
LEEP DIDN'T COME
so easily for Brett; he shifted his weight away from her, knowing that she was far too delicate to bear his weight on her all night, although he'd have liked nothing better than to have remained where he was. She murmured an inaudible protest, and he eased her into his arms, soothing her with his touch. Her head found his shoulder as naturally as if they'd been sleeping together for years, and she nuzzled against him in her sleep, her silky dark hair spread across his shoulder and arm.

His clear-cut lips were pressed into a thin line as he replayed their lovemaking in his mind. She'd been all he'd expected, and more. No other woman in his life had driven him to such a frenzy of desire, and the fact that she'd been virgin had made it even more special, different in a way that he didn't know how to handle. He wasn't a man to leave anything to chance. When she'd told him that it was her first time, he'd realized that she wouldn't be prepared to protect herself from pregnancy, and he'd taken care of it. He didn't think that she'd even noticed when he'd paused for a moment. But when he'd been making love to her, buried deep inside her, he'd thought of what it would be like if he hadn't taken any precautions, and abruptly he wanted to make her pregnant; he wanted her to bear his child. He'd violently
resented the need to be careful. He wanted to give her the essence of his manhood, the joining of their bodies in a miracle that became a baby, his baby.

He'd never before wanted to take a woman to the ranch, but he could see Tessa there as easily as if she'd been there all her life. She'd like the sturdy ranch house with its big fireplace, the vast expanses, the soaring mountains. He could see her riding beside him, her delicate, exotic face flushed with pleasure. And he could see her in his bed.

He smiled faintly. There was no doubt how his father would take to her. Was there a man on earth whom Tessa couldn't charm out of his socks? Given the fact that Tom frankly admitted to a decided weakness for women, Brett knew that he and Tessa would hit it off from the first. She'd have Tom wrapped around her little finger the minute he heard that lazy drawl of hers.

A memory pierced him, and he closed his eyes on a sharp pang of desire. “I love you,” she'd said, the words soft and liquid, and he'd never known that they could sound so right.

The things he was thinking and feeling were totally foreign to him, and on some edge of his consciousness he bitterly resented Tessa for making him think them. Why couldn't she be like all the other women he'd taken? Just a good time in bed, a casual good-bye kiss, then he'd walk out of her life as free as he'd been when he'd walked in. That was what he'd expected, but it hadn't worked out like that. She'd given him what he wanted, the use of her sweet, soft body, but somehow in the giving she'd taken things from him that he hadn't wanted to offer.