EIGHTEEN
Michael began stroking her back and it felt wonderful. Isabel closed her eyes and let thoughts ramble through her mind. She wondered how he would react if she told him she was determined never to fall in love with him. He was too dangerous. He’d probably jump with joy, she imagined, for he definitely wasn’t into personal commitment now. He had too many new careers to conquer, and settling down would be the last thing on his mind. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to settle down, either. She had too much to do and see. And if she ever changed her mind, she would choose someone who would love her passionately and be true to her. Someone just like Judge Buchanan. The way he looked at his wife, after all these years together... with such love. Yes, that’s what she wanted... eventually.
It was lust controlling her now, she decided. They were two consenting adults, and she wanted to know what it would feel like to give in to desire. Was that a sin? To give in to temptation? She couldn’t seem to care if it was.
“What are you thinking, Isabel?” Michael asked. She’d become tense in his arms.
“That I’d like you to kiss me.”
She leaned back, looked deeply into his eyes, and that was all it took. His hand went to the back of her neck, and his mouth came down on top of hers in a scorching kiss that let her know how much he wanted her. His tongue rubbed against hers, teasing a response. The kiss was wet, wild, and incredibly hot. She had the softest lips and tasted so good. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her fast enough. One kiss, and intense desire he’d never experienced before knifed through him.
Isabel wasn’t passive. Her tongue was every bit as wild as his. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and she let out a low groan when he ended the kiss. She wanted another and another.
The bedroom was cast in shadows, the only light spilling in from the living room French doors. The only sound that of their harsh breathing. She never wanted to let go of him.
He kissed her again, a long, slow kiss that made every nerve in her body tingle. She couldn’t stop caressing him. Her hand slowly slid across his shoulders and upper arms. She could feel his muscles under his skin. There was such power and strength in him, and yet he was so gentle with her. Leaning in, she kissed the side of his neck. She was suddenly feeling shy and vulnerable but was determined to make her intentions clear.
Her voice quivered when she said, “I want you, Michael.”
There was a hint of amusement in his replay. “I know.”
His arrogance didn’t bother her. “Do you want me?”
“Yeah, I do.”
She quit hiding from him and leaned back. Trailing her fingertips down his cheek, she looked into his eyes and said, “Remember. Sex is just a pleasurable activity tonight.”
Oh God, had he really said that? He couldn’t come up with anything better?
Michael was frowning and Isabel wasn’t sure he understood what she was telling him. Should she remind him? The first time they were in the hotel together, he had told her that a man didn’t need to like the woman he took to his bed, and he had said very matter-of-factly that sex was just a pleasurable activity, sometimes an extremely pleasurable activity. She didn’t want him to feel guilty or have regrets tomorrow, though, in truth, she doubted he would.
Isabel decided she didn’t want to go into a long explanation now. If he didn’t recall the conversation, that was on him. “Sex is just a pleasurable activity,” she repeated.
Michael could hear the tremor in her voice, and he could see how tense she was, though she was obviously trying to hide her insecurity. He knew she wasn’t scared—he wouldn’t touch her if she was—she was just a little nervous. But then, so was he. He had fought for so long not to touch her, but lately it was all he could think about, and now that it was finally happening, he didn’t want to overwhelm her. If he went at the warp speed he wanted to, they’d already be done... the first time. He’d make love to her all night long if she’d let him. Isabel made him feel whole again. It was the only way he could explain it.
It would be all over for him if he didn’t pace himself. He kept picturing all the ways he wanted to make love to her, and though he tried, he couldn’t block the image of her naked body writhing beneath him. Yeah, he had it bad, thanks to his wild undisciplined thoughts. Then it came to him. He’d get her talking and, come heaven or hell, he’d force himself to listen.
“Isabel?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to show me how incredible you are in bed?”
Uh-oh. “Oh God,” she groaned. She had forgotten all about her outrageous boast that, while he was busy training to become a lawyer, then a Navy SEAL, and only God knew what else, she was perfecting the art of seduction. It had been a silly lie. Did he actually believe her? Of course not. She could see the mischief in his eyes and knew he was teasing her.
He lifted her off his lap, and she stood between his legs facing him. She watched as he pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. The sprinkle of dark curly hair on his chest tapered at his navel. She wanted to kiss every inch of him.
Isabel had a sexy-as-sin body, and Michael was about to tell her so, but then she removed her top, and he lost every thought in his head. Never taking her eyes off his, she slowly slid her pajama shorts down over her hips and let them drop to the floor. Michael forgot how to breathe. She was perfect. It seemed that all he had to do was look at her or think about her and he became aroused. She had that much power over him, and he wasn’t fighting it any longer.
Her boldness pleased him. He reached out to caress her breasts, marveling at how soft and smooth her skin was, and then he slowly trailed his finger down to her hips, smiling over the goose bumps he caused her. He lifted her away from him so he could stand, then quickly stripped out of the rest of his clothes.
Michael pulled the sheets back, then turned to her. She moved into his arms, squeezing her eyes shut in absolute bliss because his body felt so good against hers. He kissed her again, long and hard, and fell into bed with her. He rolled her onto her back, then stretched out on top of her, bracing his weight with his arms. He nudged her knees apart so that his pelvis could press against hers. His groan was loud and freeing. “God, you feel good.”
She sighed. “So do you.”
Wanting to make their coming together perfect, he forced himself to take his time. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and every time she moved at all, her pelvis rubbed against him. Taking his time was the most difficult thing he had ever done, but he was determined. She moved again, and the pleasure she gave him was so intense he clenched his jaw. He could feel his composure disintegrating.
Overwhelmed now, he made love to her with his mouth, his tongue mating with hers, sliding in and out while his hands caressed her breasts.