“Do you like it?”
“Very much.”
Something in his voice caused Kathleen to turn her head. He wasn’t looking at the wall hanging. He was looking at her bottom. “Erik.”
“Hmmm?” was his only response as he closed in on her. Before she could react, he had wrapped his arms around her thighs and was rubbing his hands up and down the front of them. “You have the sauciest tush I’ve ever seen, Kathleen. Why is it that having a baby didn’t make you flabby?”
He nuzzled her from the back even as his hands became bolder. He smoothed her hips with his palms and she gasped with shocked delight when she felt the firm clench of his teeth through her jeans on the back of her thigh.
“Erik,” she said unsteadily. His hands had worked their way under her shirt and were moving over her ribs. “Erik,” she said more forcefully, “I can’t stay up on this ch
air.” Indeed, her muscles had been rendered useless by his persistent hands and adventuresome mouth as he continued to nip her through the soft denim.
“Then come down.” The words were said simply, but the import of them was unmistakable. With his hands settled on her hips just below her waist, he turned her to face him.
Emerald-green eyes locked with blue and the transmission sizzled with unspoken need. He cupped her hips in each of his hands and drew her abdomen into his chest. Then, his eyes never leaving hers, he undid the bottom button of her shirt and continued upward until all were undone.
“Kathleen.” It was a plea. She raised her hands and buried them in his hair, pulling his face into her softness.
He clasped her just under the curve of her bottom and lifted her out of the chair. He didn’t set her down until he had carried her to the fireplace. Then, with infinite care, he lowered her to the carpet.
Her own anguished cry of longing echoed his as they came together in a tight embrace. Her mouth opened to receive the plunder of his, welcoming the pain as much as the pleasure. They were a tangle of arms and legs as each sought to bring the other closer, rolling and seesawing on the soft carpet.
Kathleen pulled the bottom of his sweater up over his chest until she felt the hair-roughened skin pressed against her tummy. He helped her as she peeled the garment over his head. Then he eased her out of her blouse and bra. They were flung away without regard.
“No one looks like you,” he whispered hoarsely. “No one feels like you, smells like you, tastes like you. God, I want you.”
“Touch me, Erik. Let me feel your hands everywhere. Your mouth. It’s so good,” she cried.
His mouth was hot and urgent as he ravaged her neck, then moved to her ear, aggravating the lobe with his teeth and tickling it with his tongue. His hands celebrated her body, finding without error each curve that he hadn’t forgotten and that his memory knew well.
He kissed her breasts with lips on fire. His tongue laved her nipples with the moisture of his mouth. When they were wet and shiny, he brushed them dry with his mustache.
Kathleen made small, imploring noises that sounded like his name. He deftly unsnapped her jeans and worked down the zipper. With her willing assistance, he divested her of the jeans.
His voice was a low rasp as he said, “You’re so pretty here.” His finger outlined the dark triangle visible through her sheer panties. Kathleen closed her eyes, mesmerized by the pattern his hands were tracing over her. The panties went the way of the jeans. Then there was nothing between them and he was touching her, kissing her, with a familiarity undimmed by the years that had separated them.
“Erik,” she groaned. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“Neither have I, but you’re sweeter than I remembered.”
Her hands fumbled at the waistband of his jeans and slipped the zipper down. She called his name…
The telephone rang.
Chapter Seventeen
They froze. The telephone rang a second time. A third. Erik eased away from her, cursing expansively and fiercely.
“You… you’d better get it,” she stammered, rising up to a sitting position. “It may be—”
“Your husband?” he asked bitterly as he jerked the receiver off its cradle.
“Hello,” he barked. “No, nothing’s wrong, Seth.” He looked at Kathleen, who covered her face. “I was standing on a chair and couldn’t get to the telephone… Yeah, it looks great. Thank you again… Yeah, she is a woman of rare talents.”
Like a thwarted beast who has been driven beyond his level of tolerance, Erik lashed out viciously at his scapegoat—Kathleen. His anger was unreasonable; it was unjust; but at that point in time, his Scandinavian temper was beyond reason. His face was scornful and mocking as he looked at Kathleen. “Do you want to talk to her? She’s available.” Everything he said was intended to wound with a double meaning. “Now?… Why?… Well, I…” A heavy sigh. “All right, we’ll be right there.” He hung up the telephone and eyed her with cynical amusement. “You’d better get dressed. Your husband wants to see us.”
She had folded her hands across her chest in a gesture of self-protection. It was unfair of him to think the torment was his alone. Instinctively, she reached up and touched his thigh as he stood over her.