The cold invaded her stomach. How could she not have realized how completely her self-image had been formed by the time she was twelve or thirteen? By her mother and the darling little sister following her?
“I…don’t remember,” she said softly.
Something changed on Tony’s face. She hoped that wasn’t pity she saw.
He stood, muttering something she thought might be, “I swore I wouldn’t.” He held out a hand anyway. “C’mere.”
Beth hesitated.
He waggled his fingers, his expression the furthest thing from pitying now. His mouth had softened, while the skin stretching over his cheekbones seemed more taut than it had been. His dark eyes burned.
Heat curled low in her belly and between her legs, replacing the chill. Slowly she rose, timid but wanting this. She laid her hands in his and let him pull her toward him.
When they were barely inches apart, he released one of her hands so he could raise his to her face. He cupped her cheek, his thumb wandering, playing with her lower lip, while he devoured her with his eyes.
“I’ve wanted you since the minute I set eyes on you. Your sister would never appeal to me. You have a woman’s body.” He spread her fingers and placed her hand on his chest, then squeezed her hip. “Curves. Long legs. You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Some men like tiny women with boyish bodies. Plenty of us are a hell of a lot more drawn to a woman who looks just like you.” His voice had been falling, until now it was barely a husky whisper. “Are you hearing me?”
She nodded, although the way her pulse had accelerated, she was lucky she could hear. Feeling shy, she lifted her other hand to his chest, too. Beneath one palm, his heart beat hard and fast. Her fingers flexed for the pleasure of being able to touch.
“I shouldn’t do this,” he murmured, “but, damn.” He dipped his head and skimmed his lips over hers.
So soft, so tempting. A little sound rose from her throat as she sought his mouth again. Another brush, a nibble. Her hands slid upward, found the strong muscles that ran from his neck to his shoulders. He teased her with another fleeting kiss, but this time the tip of his tongue slid damply across the seam of her lips.
Beth moaned and rose onto tiptoe. One of his arms came around her, hard, flattening her against his body, and she flung hers around his neck. This kiss was deep, hungry. His tongue explored her mouth, demanding a response. Her awareness narrowed to him—his tall, muscular body, his scent, the texture of his thick, silky hair beneath her fingers, the heat and taste of his mouth. The ridge against her belly made her want to rub herself against him. In fact, that’s exactly what she was doing, his grip on her hip guiding her movements.
Beth had never felt like this, unashamedly aroused, no voice in her head whispering doubts. The experience was so heady she hardly noticed when he began to ease back. His lips traced the line of her jaw; his tongue touched the exquisitely sensitive spot beneath her earlobe. A groan vibrated in his chest. He lifted his head and opened a couple of inches between them, although he was still gently kneading her hip—no, really, her butt—while the fingers of his other hand remained tangled in her hair.
Dazed, she stared up at him. Didn’t he want to keep kissing her?
No. Obviously he didn’t.
He discovered how fat my butt is. I did something wrong. Embarrassing. Maybe he never had really wanted her. This was just…manipulation. A way to gain her cooperation.
“Knock it off.”
“What?”
He gently bumped his forehead against hers, then kissed her nose. “Those freckles…”
What…? She gave her head a small, bewildered shake.
“Beth, I can’t think of anything I want more right now than to unroll one of those sleeping bags, lay you down on it and make love to you.”
Startled, she studied his face to see if he meant it.
At last, he took his hand from her hip and moved it to her waist. The other hand, too, so he could hold her close to him but also keep her from plastering herself back against him.
Because he doesn’t really want—
“There are two things stopping me. Besides the fact that a sleeping bag wouldn’t keep the concrete from being really hard.”