Fatal Flaw. Sandy Curtis
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as much of him as she could through their clothing. It wasn't enough. She wanted him. More than she'd ever wanted Luke or the boy she'd dated before him or the man with whom she'd had an affair after her divorce. And the growing hardness pressed against her stomach declared Mark's need was just as great.
When she broke the kiss it was to see him opening his eyes as though he were dazed, but his arms tightened around her, and his lips covered hers again, his tongue tasting, exploring, his body moulding against hers, his chest muscles rubbing against her breasts so they throbbed with the need to feel his touch on them.
Mark's first doubts about kissing Julie had been washed away by the sheer pleasure surging through him. It wasn't just physical. It went beyond that. It felt so good, so right, that when she'd moved away from him the loss was more acute than he could bear. He had to have her back in his arms, feel her body against his, know the softness of her skin, the taste of her, the smell of her.
He wanted her.
Needed her.
Ached for her.
He needed her to make him believe he could once more be the boy who had held her hand, the youth who had shared his hopes and fears, the young man who had taken his idealistic hopes and dreams and entered a world of deceit and betrayal where truth became lies and distinguishing friend from enemy a game too deadly to lose.
He needed her to believe in him so he could believe in himself again.
He needed…her. Her spirit, her trust. Her love.
His hand slid beneath her tee-shirt, caressed her breast until the nipple rose, hard and tight against her bra. The groan that started in his chest rose as he slipped his fingers past the soft fabric, felt her flesh hot against his palm.
He wanted to be inside her so deeply that he would lose all awareness of his own body and know only hers.
He deepened the kiss.
The ache between Julie's legs grew until it dominated her mind, driving out all sense, all discretion. If she didn't have Mark completely she would go crazy with wanting. She pulled away, dragged air into lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, and muttered, 'Let's go inside'.
The fierce hunger in Mark's eyes told her he wasn't going to refuse.
She turned off the hose and sensed him every step beside her as she walked into the house; the faint brush of his arm against hers, his quick withdrawal as though too much contact would rob him of the control he needed not to take her then and there, on the grass, on the steps, the deck…
Her tension was almost unbearable as she led him into her bedroom. She knew she was taking a risk. Making love with Mark could be the start of something new, something potentially wonderful. But it could also mean the end of their friendship. Once they crossed that line, their relationship wouldn't, couldn't, be the same again. But it was too late now. She'd suppressed her need for him for too long.
She stripped off her clothes, watching his reaction, hoping she would see no revulsion at the silver striations that flecked her abdomen. But all she could read in his eyes was desire.
When Mark's jeans followed her shorts and tee-shirt to the floor, Julie suddenly realised how unprepared she was for love-making. 'I'm not on the pill,' she blurted out. 'Do you have a condom?'
Mark blinked as the question focused his thoughts, hitting him with the reality that this woman, so attuned to the essential part of him, was his friend, his best friend. She was no longer the girl who had listened to his troubles and consoled him when his father drank himself into oblivion or his dates proved disastrous. He looked at the nervousness in her smile, the defiant tilt to her head as she stood naked before him. A faint tremor ran through her body at his scrutiny, and the blood rushed through his veins when her breasts quivered. Almost involuntarily, his gaze focused on the dark curling hairs that hid what his body desperately sought.
Now was his chance to step back, to return to what they had previously shared. If he wanted to.
Julie thought she'd snap with the anxiety eating into her as she waited for Mark to reply. She had wanted him for so long, and now that he was here and looking at her with a deep, raw hunger, she was suddenly afraid. Luke's deception had hurt her deeply, and it had taken a long time to regain her self-confidence.
'In my wallet,' Mark said. 'But it's been there a while. I suppose it's still okay.'
'It'll do.' Heart beating wildly, Julie flung back the bedspread and sheet. Within seconds Mark joined her, moulding his body to hers, skin to skin, moving, touching.
It was balm, it was erotic, it was sensual beyond belief. It was everything she had ever dreamed it would be. But it wasn't enough. His lips on hers wasn't enough. His tongue savouring hers wasn't enough. His hands stroking her breasts, fingers rubbing her nipples, wasn't enough. She had to have him inside her, had to feel the solid length of him as deep as she could take. She moved beneath him, inviting, pleading.
Mark eased into her, obviously trying to be gentle, but then he shuddered and pushed into her with a groan that matched the intense swell of satisfaction spreading through her body.
She moved her hips, urging him deeper, wrapping her legs around him, hungry for the pleasure that came with each powerful thrust.
Through a haze she saw the tendons tight in his neck, the sweat that trickled through his dark chest hairs. His eyes were closed, his face intent. She reached up a hand and caressed his cheek. His eyes opened, his gaze locked with hers, and he smiled. A smile that wrapped around her and invited her into his soul. For a moment Julie thought she would melt with the sheer joy that coursed through her.
As though caught by something beyond his control, Mark quickened his rhythm, and Julie surged with him, gasping, rocking, beyond thinking, beyond sanity and the heat-filled room and the pound of flesh into flesh, until she shook with pleasure. Intense…unbelievable…pleasure. Pulsing. Again and again.
A groan wrenched from Mark's mouth and he thrust one last time. He collapsed onto her.
Driving past Gordon Talbert's house gave Todd Langley a reasonable idea of where he would approach from that night. Talbert's neighbours had built on even bigger blocks of land than Talbert's house occupied, though not as far back from the road. Trees on the roadside verge offered rudimentary concealment for his car, and it would be easy for him to slip down the side of Talbert's shrub-lined driveway.
Ray Galloway's sketch of the house appeared reasonably accurate, and Todd hoped there would be no security system for him to deal with. He might need some time to find what he was after, especially if Gordon had put it in a safe. His skills in that area were only fair, even with all the high-tech equipment he used.
He was tempted to drive in and knock on the door and offer his condolences if any family were at home. It would provide an opportunity to suss out the interior. But he was strangely reluctant to do so. Perhaps Ray's description of Mark Talbert had something to do with it. Ray was usually on the mark when it came to assessing people. Dangerous, eh? It was a description Todd could well apply to Ray himself.
Mark eased from Julie and rolled to the side. A slow wonderment was spreading inside him. And a tentative, almost frightening, hope.
He looked at Julie, her dark hair damp on the pillow, eyelashes curved over her cheeks, lips slightly parted. His gut twisted with the depth of his need to reach out and hold her, to reassure himself that what they'd just shared was as real and as meaningful for her as it had been for him.
She opened her eyes and smiled at him, a soft, glowing smile that eased some of his trepidation. 'I've missed you,' she murmured.
Realisation hit him. His growing discontent with his work, with himself, had started long before he'd been shot. Something had been missing from his life. Something that completed him, made him feel worthwhile.
Julie.
No-one understood him like Julie did. Or accepted him as unconditionally.
'And I've missed you,' he managed to reply.