It was after midnight and since the party was beginning to break up anyway, it was relatively easy for Elaina to slip away. Janie had merely raised her eyebrows and nodded her head in acknowledgement of where Elaina would be when she had told her aunt she was leaving.
Raul made quick work of ushering her out to his truck. Thick silence arced between them on the drive.
He pulled the truck behind the house, and with a hand at the small of her back, led her through the darkened interior.
Bright moonlight spilled in through the windows helping Elaina’s vision adjust to the dimness surrounding her. Her legs trembled from the milestone about to o
ccur. The heady knowledge of what was about to take place beat swiftly through her veins.
She wanted it to happen.
And she wanted it to happen with him.
But beyond that, she wasn’t willing to think.
He slid his hand from her back and encapsulated her wrist as he moved in front of her, leading her through the kitchen and down a darkened hallway. He didn’t speak, and he made no move to turn on any lights.
She followed closely behind, the subtle scent of his skin and the virile magnetism of his hot, steely hand holding her in an uncompromising grip going to her head like a fine wine on an empty stomach. The blood beat hotly in her veins and she wondered if he could feel it where his fingers wrapped around her directly on her pulse point.
He stopped abruptly and the forward motion of her body brought her stumbling into his back. She felt his corded strength, smelled the clean, potent masculinity that exuded from his lean, muscled body. It was the same masculinity that had fascinated her from the first time she got close to him. A thrill of frightened anticipation washed through her, a subtle excitement that she could have so completely attracted a man of his caliber. It seemed almost too much to take in, and the fact that in a matter of minutes, she would undoubtedly have Raul Vega hanging over her naked body, was enough to blow her mind.
She quivered and tried to rein in her fragile control by remembering how much she wanted this, and reminding herself of how he had made her feel earlier when he held her out by the barn. She sucked in a small, shaky breath.
He pushed open a door and moved through the threshold of what Elaina knew had to be his bedroom.
In this room, as in the kitchen, the moonlight came in through the windows, illuminating the space around them just enough to cast a sensuous spell between them.
He moved to the large bed that dominated the room, and sat down on the side, bringing her between his spread thighs. Her hands fell lightly to his shoulders and she felt his tensile strength under her fingertips.
His palms began a smooth glide up and down her body, going from the outside of her thighs, over her hips, to the indent of her waist and back again. He dragged air deeply into his lungs, breaking the silence of the night.
He made no move to deepen his caresses and she stood in front of him, her body shivering softly as she waited expectantly for his next move.
Her breathing fractured from his nearness as she continued to wait. Helplessly, her body swayed toward his and she put her lips against his ear and softly kissed him. His body tightened against hers. The oxygen stalled in her lungs and she asked, “Why aren’t you doing anything?”
His hands gripped her hips more tightly and the air hissed from his lungs. “I’m fighting myself,” he answered her with distinct mockery, cold sarcasm directed at himself. “As you so eloquently reminded me, you’re a virgin and I’m still too damn old for you.” He anchored her to him, his grasp restraining. “I keep telling myself not to start this, not to start something with you that you won’t be able to handle.” He sucked in a lungful of oxygen. “But it’s not working. I’m losing the fight. You’re standing sweet and compliant in my bedroom; I don’t have the strength to do what I know I damn well should.” He pushed her away from his body, but kept his fists manacled around her upper arms. He focused on her eyes watching him in the darkness of the room.
“Why the change of heart?” she asked softly.
“It’s not a change of heart. I haven’t changed my mind. I’m just trying to give you a fighting chance, baby.”
“What’s got you so worried? You weren’t worried before.”
He let out a sound of self-directed criticism. “All I could think about before was that I couldn’t have you. Now I can and I’m worried you’re gonna hate me afterwards—hold it against me.”
For the first time since she had known him, he was showing her a side of himself that wasn’t one hundred percent confident. “Why? Why would I hate you?”
“Because I’m not giving you a choice. I’m rushing you into bed—intimidating you to get what I want.” He sucked in a breath and his shoulders tightened under her hands. “Tonight I learned you’ve been through hell and back. And right now I’m finding out that I’m such a fucked-up bastard, that apparently, I don’t give a shit.”
His hands clenched in a restraining hold that spoke eloquently of his intent to proceed.
A tiny smile played around her mouth. “You’re not a fucked-up bastard. I had a choice and I made it. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You keep thinking that, sweetheart. You keep thinking you had a choice.” He looked deeply in her eyes, gave her a layered look filled with conflicting emotions. “I don’t think you understand how this is gonna play out. There’s something about you—something that makes me lose control. I haven’t even had you yet, but already I want the next time and the next time and the next time after that. This shit isn’t going to just go away—you’re addictive, baby.”
“But you’re saying that you’re willing to let me walk away right now? To drive me back to the house?”
His jaw clenched and his lips flattened into a distinct snarl. “If I have to, yeah,” the words rumbled from his chest with menacing heat.