The Keeper (9 page)

She brushed her thumb over it, felt
his cock harden and thicken. "Oh, baby, baby," she moaned.

"All right, that's it,"
he groaned. He lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the couch. He bounced
in a flurry of thick, white cotton to a sitting position on the sofa. Expertly,
he maneuvered her to straddle his thighs, his hands around her waist.

"Mmm, I like this," she
giggled. Both robes completely open, she looked down at herself, shuddering at
the sexy sight of her round breasts, their dark nipples arrayed before him. She
made it an offering. "Pete," she moaned, cupping her breast.
"Suck my nipples." She hunched her shoulders in anticipation of the
pleasure. "Please." They ached for the lovely, sweet, wet suckle of
his lips.

"Come here, sweetheart."
Hands under her arms, he urged her up his body so her breasts were lip level
and suckled her nipple into his mouth.

Her heart stopped. His eyes closed
in concentration, his strong features softened. The draw of his mouth, the
swipe of his tongue, the nip of his teeth on the tip made her tremble, made her
clit flutter and throb with each heartbeat. She grasped his penis, positioned
it right, and took it, just the tip of it, inside her vagina. "Pete, Pete.
My God," her whimper matched his growl, which vibrated from his mouth
across the skin of her breast. That first feel of stretching, of opening her
body for him, was glorious. Her thighs quivered, her eyes fluttered shut. She
didn't know how long she could hold herself up like this when all she wanted
was to sink down and bury his cock deep inside.

"Jesus, baby, you're killing
me." He dropped his head to the back of the couch. "God, that feels
good." He pulsed, filling her a little more. More deeply and thickly.

Right now. She needed him right
now. No more teasing. No more playing. "Fuck me, Pete," she whispered
into his ear, her teeth gritted, and voice hoarse with passion. The next
second, she was on the floor, on her back, his cock hard inside her. At the
same moment, he took her lips, ate at them with big wet swipes of his tongue,
thrusting it in partnership with the thrusts of his cock.

He pushed her hard with his hips,
nudged hers up higher so he could go deeper. She locked her legs around his
waist, arms around his neck to hang on. He thrust and fucked. Fierce grunts
sounded like they came all the way from his gut, intensifying her excitement
until her shouts matched his bellows. Her vaginal walls contracted. How she
could feel the delicate pulsations along with his pounding cock, she didn't
know. Insane with her need, she twisted her body to take every inch of him.

His thrusts became longer, harder,
more amazingly powerful. He came with a guttural shout and with the sensation
of hot, thick, liquid jets filling her full.

Huffing and puffing, his chest
expanding, struggling for air, he finally rolled them to their sides. Still
joined, but at least all that muscle mass wasn't crushing her.

"Jesus, Share, are you all
right?" his murmur barely above a whisper.

"Oh, God, yes, mmm." She
choked with the surprised emotion of her love for him, the longing for the
returning of that love.

"I can't move," he added.

"Mm mm. No."

He slid the side of his robe over
her body and snuggled her up close to his chest.

She wanted to giggle, cry, or howl
with the unutterable pleasure of being with this man. His heat and breath
buffeting her face, his hard arm against her back, pulling her into him. There
was nowhere else on earth she'd rather be.

Chapter Twelve

Pete stood at the front of the
chapel next to his friend and partner, Hank Crossman. He angled his stance so
he could watch Sharon during the ceremony. She outshone the bride. The
shimmering golden dress displayed every one of her considerable attributes in a
very classy way. Her stunning profile shown to advantage by her hairdo—a sophisticated
knot on top of her head, little tendrils curling around her ears and nape. He
looked forward to shaking all the pins out later, in the privacy of the
penthouse.

This best man thing was going to be
a piece of cake. Stand with his friend, hand him the wedding rings, and toast
the happy couple at the reception. However, his scalp prickled with the emotion
of the occasion. Hank had fought his feelings for Nickie, had to be chased down
in the next state, and then convinced by his father not to let the golden
opportunity of the love of a woman like Nickie get away.

...your life will be full of
peace and joy...

Pete filled his lungs with a
shuddery, uneven breath at the sight of Sharon's rapt face. The setting sun
through the stained glass window above the altar dappled her skin with a golden
light.

...comfort her, honor and
keep...

She was uncertain about him. From
what he could figure out, other men had used her insecurities, loneliness, and
beauty for their own purposes. He found he had this great need inside him to
protect her, to reassure her he loved...

...wherever you go, you will
always return to one another.

...her.
Oh, God.
His mother
always told him it would hit him in the gut when it happened. Some of his
siblings were in loving relationships, but after all these years he'd been
afraid he was immune. Sharon was special. He'd known that all along. He was now
beginning to understand how special.

Silence. She returned his gaze, her
lips parted. She raised her hand to her neck, gave him the finger. Huh? He
frowned.

She waggled her finger.

The ring.
She was signaling
him? The ring!
Oh, Christ, I mean cripes.
He was in a church, after all.
He glanced at Hank, who waited patiently, his hand out palm up, a distinctly
non-religious smirk on his face. Shi...shoot. He rustled in his jacket pocket
for the rings, flop sweat popping out above his upper lip.
Here, here they
are. No worries. Crisis averted.

He got through the rest of the
ceremony without further embarrassment.

Whom love has joined, let none
put asunder.

His heart pounded. You don't
discover you're in love every day, especially in a place as momentous as your
friend's wedding. Hank and Nickie had flown back down the short aisle, and
guests already clustered around them. His job was over—except for the toast,
and he had that down pat.

She stood at her place in the
chapel, obviously waiting for him. Would she believe it when he told her he was
in love with her? The grin on her face told him she hadn't forgotten his gaffe
with the ring. Well, he'd been distracted big time, looking at
her
.

***

Pete Rayne sporting a tux set her
heart to tripping and turned her body to kindling. Six foot two of broad
shoulders, long legs, and tousled hair. The man was amazing. Sharon felt so
proud walking into the banquet room on his arm. He was everything she'd ever
wanted in a man. She wasn't going to wallow in the let down she'd undoubtedly
have soon, once their affair was over. They were having fantastic sex, but
there were no promises for the future. She only had him for now.

He snagged two glasses of champagne
and led her straight to the dance floor. The number was fast, but he slid his
arm around her waist as if it was slow dancing, the cold of the goblet resting
on her back.

"You look beautiful,
sweetheart," he murmured as he nuzzled her cheek. "Did you buy this
dress in Parkersburg?"

"Thank you, my dear," she
replied in a singsong rhythm. "Actually, I did see a couple of things I
liked at home, but I drove into Des Moines and found this one."
He
noticed.
Both the ice blue dress from last night and this one, cost much
more than she usually spent, but she wanted him to be proud of her. She felt
like a princess in the amber sheath with the kicky little ruffle around her
knees. The matching beaded silk sweater didn't warm her as much as cover the
spaghetti straps during the chapel service.

"Well, your dress looks very
fine, young lady. And I'm not just saying that because I want to get you out of
it ASAP." He gazed down at her, his hazel eyes warm, his smile sensual and
provocative.

"Whew," she purred,
leaning against him. "I need something to cool me down."

"On my account, I hope."

"Oh, yeah."

After all the guests took their
seats, it was his province to offer the wedding toast. She had no idea what
he'd say, but he liked his partner Hank a lot. He said he'd given toasts at his
brothers' weddings back in Arizona before he moved to Iowa, so it was no sweat.

Clinking a champagne goblet with a
fork, he held the glass out. "Well, what can I say about this outgoing,
fun-loving guy?"

Most of the assembled crowd,
including her, burst out laughing at this hyperbole.

Hank narrowed his eyes and glared
at Pete.

"Oh, wait, that's a whole
other speech about someone else." He beamed, pretending to dig through the
inside breast pocket of his jacket. "Seriously, I've known Hank Crossman
for over three years and have been his partner for most of that time. He
sincerely loves his job and is a great investigator." He raised his glass
to his lips, as if finished. Just when everyone followed suit, Pete lowered the
glass and held it out again.

Groans abounded.

"I know for a fact he fell for
Nickie Grace the minute he laid eyes on her. I was there. But I'm not sure she
did the same."

A smiling Nickie looked up at Pete
and shook her head slightly.

"Okay," he went on, his
lips quirking in a huge smile. "She didn't."

Hank scowled, waving his hand in a
let's
speed it up
sign.

"Just hold it up a minute,
buddy," he said with a laugh then let his voice get serious. "I am
very happy Hank and Nickie found each other and the warmth of their extended
families." He tipped his glass in the direction of Nickie's parents and
sister, then turned to acknowledge Hank's dad. "May they have many happy
years and many beautiful children together. And thank you, guys, it's been an
honor being your best man."

He held up his glass again.
"To love and its reward."

"To love!" echoed around
the room.

Surreptitiously dabbing at her
tears, Sharon said, "That was lovely." They clinked glasses and
sipped.

"Thank you, honey." He
bent to her and brushed his lips over a wet drop set to roll down her cheek.

His warm breath bathed the side of
her face, and she felt suspended in time. The moment was sweet, even though her
feelings jumbled. They seemed so close to something wonderful, but would a day
like this ever come for her? Pete cared about her, but did he care enough or
was he still looking around? She silently repeated what was becoming her
mantra.
Enjoy it while you've got it.

After dinner, the music began, and
Pete and Hank goofed around. It was hysterical to see the two big, strapping
hunk-o-ramas dancing with each other, clowning around, certainly not unsure
about
their
sexuality.

The bride approached her.

"You look gorgeous,
Nickie." And she did. Her wedding gown was a strapless, narrow fitting
sheath to her ankles. She had a terrific figure, but Sharon wondered about the
little pooch of her stomach. Just thinking of Hank as a father made her smile.
He'd been a wild man until Nickie came to town. Since then, he hadn't looked at
another woman.

"Thank you, Sharon. I hope
you're having a good time."

"Oh, yes. Pete's making sure
of that."

They both turned toward the still
dancing men and rolled their eyes, laughing so hard they cried. "If we
didn't know better, I'd say they made a cute couple." Nickie had to shout,
since the crowd had started cheering the idiots on. Then she motioned Sharon
back to the table, where she sat with a palm over her belly.

That's when Sharon was
sure
Nickie was pregnant.

"You know, I love him so
much."

"I know. I see how you are
together," Sharon responded. Nickie's fair skin flushed and layered with
sheen of sweat. "Are you all right? Do you want me to get him?"

"I'm really fine. You can
probably guess what's going on." Nickie lightly patted her tummy.
"He's so happy. I think he's really surprised at how happy."

"Nickie, he needs you. He
always has. He just didn't know you until now." Sharon gave Nickie's arm a
reassuring pat, telling her with more than words alone that she wasn't jealous
or angry Hank was with Nickie now. "Now, let's go get those guys before
they run off on the honeymoon together."

"Good idea. After all, I want
to dance with my husband." Nickie charged onto the dance floor to claim
him.

Sharon, right behind her, tapped
Pete's shoulder. "May we cut in?"

Chapter Thirteen

"I'd like a dance with Sharon,
if you don't mind." Before anyone could object, Hank swept her away with
an arm around her waist and grasped her hand in the traditional waltz position.

She glanced toward Nickie, who
smiled and nodded at them as she took Pete's arm. Their heads tipped together.
She saw Nickie say something to him, saw him look back at her. He didn't look
jealous, just thoughtful.

This was the first time she'd been
alone with Hank since their breakup. Even that had only consisted of his
uncomfortable announcement to her that he had feelings for Nickie.
"Congratulations, Hank."

"Sharon, I'm going to say one
more time I'm sorry about us. I hope you're not still too mad at me."

"I'm not mad." They
hadn't moved far. Hank was kind of like Pete in the dancing department. Sway
and shuffle. "I knew we were just dating. I don't think I
ever
expected it to last."

He raised an eyebrow in mock
dismay.