One Forgotten Night Page 19

  Soon they came to a wide lake. Only a handful of lights glimmered around its shoreline. The car bounced along a rutted track for a quarter mile or so, and then Mike turned up a narrow driveway, little more than a clearing in the trees. There stood a small wooden cabin, shuttered and dark.

  “This is going to be a bit on the primitive side,” Mike warned. “Nobody’s been here for a month or so.”

  He unlocked the cabin and quickly lit a fire in the wood-burning stove. “There’s electric light and running water, but no heat,” he explained. “This’ll warm the place up in a few minutes.”

  Nina looked around. The cabin was as rustic on the inside as on the outside: The walls were of rough, uninsulated timber, and above she could see through the rafters all the way to the roof. The floor, too, was of wood, but the oak planks had been smoothed by long use, and a couple of rag rugs added spots of warmth and color. There was a much-chewed Frisbee on one of the rugs, and Nina smiled; no need to ask whose toy that was.

  The kitchen was simple—a small refrigerator, a two-burner stove and a sink along one wall. A cubicle in the corner held a toilet and a shower stall. The rest of the furnishings consisted of a table and chairs, a shelf of paperbacks and a bed piled with blankets. Only one bed. Nina couldn’t help noticing that it was large and looked warm.

  Mike came in with the bags from the supermarket and the drugstore. He set them on the table and started taking items out of his bag one by one, displaying his purchases for Nina’s approval. He’d bought bread, cheese, sliced turkey, some apples, orange juice, a package of vanilla wafers and a bottle of wine. “I thought you might need a drink,” he said, setting the wine in the little refrigerator to chill. “I know I could use one.”

  Then he dumped the contents of Nina’s bag onto the table, and her face flamed scarlet. There in a little pile were two toothbrushes, a tube of toothpaste, a small bottle of shampoo, a plastic comb, a bar of soap, a stick of deodorant and a tube of lip balm. And, unmistakable in their black-and-silver foil wrappers, a dozen condoms.

  Neither of them spoke. Their eyes were riveted on the tabletop. Nina was mortified; she hadn’t intended to appear so...so calculating. So eager. She’d only thought that they should be prepared, just on the chance—

  Mike broke the awkward silence. “Nina, I’m flattered,” he said, voice brimming with amusement. “You must think I have some stamina. Or maybe you thought we’d be spending a couple of months here?”

  She jammed her fists into her coat pockets and turned her back. “Just forget about it,” she muttered furiously. She felt warm with embarrassment.

  “No, I’m not going to forget about it,” he said, and the tone of his voice had changed. It was thick, husky, charged with promise. “Nina, look at this.”

  She couldn’t help it; she had to turn around. Mike picked up the supermarket bag and upended it over the table. Out fell a box of condoms. Nina stared at it, then burst into laughter.

  “And you had the nerve to tease me,” she said. “Just for that, I ought to go stay in a motel.”

  “But you’re not gonna, are you?” Mike came toward her. His eyes were so bright and so blue that Nina wanted to dive into them.

  “No,” she said. “I’m not gonna.”

  Chapter 11

  At first their kiss was fierce, as each rushed to satisfy a hunger that had been too long denied. Their mouths worked desperately against each other; their hands grasped and clutched. But after a moment they grew tender, almost tentative, as they realized that there was time for them to explore each other. The kiss became a silent, sweet communion; each felt with breathless, half-fearful certainty that although they had been lovers before, now they were on the verge of entering new and uncharted territory.

  Nina rested her head on Mike’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. He was as solid as a tree, as warm as a fire on a cold night. She felt utterly safe and secure, snuggled against him with his strong hands cradling her, and she gave a blissful sigh of relief. Her tranquil mood didn’t last, however, for the fever of desire was burning too strongly in her. She raised her mouth to his again and pressed herself to him, feeling his hard arousal through both their jeans. She moved her hips against him and he bit back a groan.

  “I’ve been ready for you for the past two hours,” he said into her hair.

  She drew back and looked up at him, unafraid to match his passion with her own. “I’ve been ready for you for the past week.”

  When he started to remove her sweater she put his hands aside. “No,” she whispered. “Let me. Please.”

  She guided him to the bed and undressed him. Her fingers fumbled at times with shoelaces and zippers, but neither of them noticed. Mike forced himself to remain still, banking the flames of his own need. He was aching to take her quickly, but instead he let her set the pace; he sensed that if he gave her the freedom to do all that she wanted, both of them might reach realms of pleasure that he had never imagined.

  For Nina, the world outside had ceased to be. Even the tumult of her own passion was hushed for the moment. It was with a sense almost of reverence that she freed Mike’s body of the last of its encumbrances. She looked at him, shaken by his beauty: the lean, hawklike face, the dark swooping brows and the eyes that beckoned her now like blue beacons; the curves and hollows of his muscled arms and legs; the wide chest that tapered to his flat stomach; his proud maleness rising from a nest of black hair. Her hands roamed over his body, gently, hardly daring to touch him, remembering and relearning the feel of him. She touched his flat nipples and watched them harden. Suddenly she needed to do more; she had to feel more of the heady delight that filled her when she saw how he responded to her. She leaned forward, her hair tickling his chest, and licked his nipples, teasing them with the tip of her tongue. He stirred restlessly. His hands came up as if to hold her, but she pinned his wrists to the bed.

  Slowly, as if pulled by the very force of his desire, she moved her mouth down his chest and across his belly, licking, kissing, teasing. He held his breath, commanding his quivering flesh to stillness, and then, ever so softly, she lowered her lips and kissed the head of his manhood, wrapping her hands around the thick shaft. His breath erupted in a gasp of delight. Her touch was shy, almost uncertain, but nothing had ever brought him so close to losing control.

  Something inside Nina began to throb in answer to Mike’s ragged breath, his gasps and moans. Reveling in her power to arouse him, she trailed kisses along the length of his sex. Her nostrils filled with the male smell of him, the primal scent of sexual heat, and she marveled at the velvety softness of the tender skin that sheathed his hardness.

  He was panting her name, begging her to stop, begging her never to stop. And then she took him into her mouth, and he nearly exploded.

  Warmth spiraled within Nina as she moved her mouth on Mike. She had no need to ask or learn; she knew what to do, for she knew exactly how it would feel if Mike were sucking her breast. His mouth would be hot and wet, tight and yet gentle as his lips and tongue stroked her to new heights, and so she loved Mike with her own mouth in just that way. The warmth between her legs was spreading, setting her afire. Dimly she was aware that her hips were rocking, that she was pulsing with a need that came closer and closer to consuming her—

  “Nina,” Mike spoke through gritted teeth. “Sweetheart, I can’t take any more.” Gently he pulled her head away from him. He was trembling; another moment and he’d have been over the edge.

  Dazed, almost drunk on her own passion and the taste and feel of his, Nina stood on shaky legs. “Stay there,” she ordered him.

  Quickly she stripped, resenting every second that she had to be away from him. Then, naked and unashamed, she took something from the table. She returned to the bed and unwrapped the condom. Mike had to guide her hands as she put it on him. He waited, erect and ready, and for the first time Nina guessed at the effort it had cost him not to touch her, not to take her as swiftly as his desire demanded.

  “H
ow do you want me, Nina?” he asked.

  Every way. Forever, her heart answered. She climbed onto the bed and straddled him, lowering herself toward his thrusting sex. She shuddered all over when she touched him; he felt her body shake and saw her nipples grow even tighter and harder. She paused there, feeling him heavy and firm at the very entrance to her womanhood. Her head was thrown back, and her eyes were closed in an anticipation so intense that it was almost painful. Still Mike refused to let himself move.

  “Pleasure yourself on me,” he told her, and with a long moan she slid down onto him.

  The tight heat of her squeezed him, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. The condom was a blessing; without it he’d have climaxed as soon as she took him inside her. As it was, with any luck he could hold off long enough to give her what she needed.

  She rode him with abandon, rubbing herself against his hardness. Her breasts bounced and swayed. Her eyes were unseeing; she was lost within herself, absorbed by the sensations that flooded her. Mike felt her sex grip him and hold him tightly, clenching in spasms of pleasure as she galloped toward her climax, and he cried out, “Now, Nina.” Her taut expression softened and she gave an exclamation of delighted surprise, and he felt her tighten and tremble all along the length of him. And then, knowing that she had found release, he let himself go at last, exploding upward into her as she collapsed into his arms.

  Afterward he rolled them both onto their sides so that they faced each other. They lay like that without speaking, their mouths close together, lips meeting for occasional gentle kisses, while their heartbeats slowed. Nina felt a profound peace. She knew now that her amnesia was no barrier to loving Mike. Her past was still a mystery to her, but she knew that she could never have experienced this much passion, this much intimacy, with any other man. It would have changed her, left some mark on her life. As she now felt transformed by being with Mike. She had shown him all that she was, revealing every desire, sharing every secret, and he had trusted her. He had let her have her way. His trust had been the greatest gift he could have given her. By letting her choose, he had made her want to give him even more of herself. As she gazed into his eyes, she prayed that he would give her more of himself.

  Mike hadn’t touched Nina all through the lovemaking, but now his hands couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to know every inch of her, to bond every part of her to him with his touch. He stroked her face, her back, the curve of her hip. He traced the long line of her thigh and explored her buttocks, cupping their roundness, teasing the small of her back where the cleft began. And then, when he ran his thumb up her rib cage, she moved a little and arched her back. Her breasts offered themselves to his questing hand.

  He cupped one of them; it was tight and full in his hand. As he watched, the soft pale nipple tightened and darkened, stiffening as though begging for his touch. He flicked the sensitive peak with his fingertip, and the rhythm of Nina’s breathing changed ever so slightly. She rubbed her breast against his hand, asking for more. He stroked and squeezed and pinched, and she responded eagerly.

  He wouldn’t have believed that anything could rouse him so soon after that last shattering climax, but to his amazement he realized that already he was getting hard again. Nina’s innocent eagerness inflamed him; he needed to pleasure her in all the ways she’d pleasured him.

  “Ready for more?” he whispered. “Because I am.” He lowered his head, captured the tip of a breast in his mouth and suckled. Again that delicious warmth suffused them both, and Nina melted into him, molding her yielding body to his hard contours.

  Mike’s hand skimmed over her belly. His fingers probed the triangle of curls that covered her femininity, and then they found the silky-soft, slippery core of her. He kept suckling her swollen nipple, sending jolts of sensation through her, while he teased and stroked her tender woman’s flesh. She rose eagerly to meet his hand, lifted by the tide of pure need that was rising again in her veins. It was a raging torrent that would not be denied, a flood that threatened to carry her far out to sea. And she cast herself into it. She would hold nothing back from Mike.

  He raised his head from her breast. “You’re so warm and wet, Nina,” he said.

  She replied in a slow, passion-drugged voice, “It’s you. You make me that way. Every time you touch me, I feel it here.” She grazed her nipples. “And here.” She put her hand on his, pressing it more deeply into the dampness between her legs.

  Mike said, “I want to taste you now.” He parted her thighs so that her inmost secret place lay open to him, waiting for him to ease her frantic yearning. Then he lay between her legs and drank deep of her musky sweetness.

  Nina cried out incoherently, overwhelmed with pleasure. The shocking, exquisite pressure of his lips and tongue, moving as if he knew exactly how she wanted to be touched, brought her so close to fulfillment that she squirmed, barely able to control herself. Her head rolled on the pillow; she called out his name again and again.

  Mike had never known so responsive a partner, never been with a woman who gave him so much, so freely. The taste of her, and the shivering thrill of her response, goaded him to renewed desire. He knew that he had to lose himself inside her again.

  He rose swiftly and put on another condom. Before coming back to bed he doused the lights, leaving only the red-gold glow from the grate of the stove to illuminate the cabin.

  He knelt between her legs and placed himself against her. But instead of entering her at once, he hesitated, looking down at Nina. Her eyes were smoky and heavy-lidded, and her lips were parted, slightly swollen from his kissing. The silky flesh of her breasts and thighs gleamed wetly where he’d kissed her. She was beautiful, seductive; his manhood throbbed painfully at the sight of her. He desperately hoped that her carnality was pure, untainted by artifice or deceit. If only he could be sure that she wanted him as he wanted her—with an unquestioning need for the one person who could awaken the deepest passions of the heart and the flesh. And satisfy them.

  Nina moved her hips, rubbing her waiting womanhood against his shaft, urging him to claim her. She touched her breasts gently, almost wonderingly, as though she were remembering his mouth on them, and then she reached up and tangled her hands in his hair to pull him into her.

  “Look at me,” Mike said, his gaze fixed on hers, so she did not close her eyes at the instant of his entry. They looked into each other’s souls as their bodies joined. Mike buried himself in her to the hilt, and then he was lost. He had meant to make it long and slow for her, but instead it was urgent and rough. He rushed headlong to a climax that he couldn’t even begin to control, a rush of release that swept up from the soles of his feet to the top of his head and poured out of him in a savage convulsion that shook him to the center of his being.

  They fell asleep not long afterward, nestled together like spoons. Mike lay curved protectively around Nina’s back, one arm holding her close, his hand resting on her breast. Late that night she woke and felt him aroused again, rigid against her buttocks. Feeling the answering tremor of hunger she rolled to face him. Too tired or too languid to fetch a condom from the table, they touched each other gently, lingeringly, until they brought each other to completion. He kissed her tenderly and wrapped his arms around her. With a whispered, “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he then buried his face in her hair. Beneath the mingled odors of lovemaking, wool blankets and wood smoke, he noticed, her hair still smelled faintly fragrant. He thought that maybe the fragrance was sandalwood.

  Mike didn’t fall asleep right away, and he knew that Nina was awake, too. Words hung unspoken in the air: three little words that Mike had come close to saying more than once that night. Each time something had held him back. You have no right, he’d said to himself. You’re on the run, you’ve got nothing—less than nothing—to offer her. She’s scared and alone, she’s clinging to you. It wouldn’t be fair to pressure her now. Wait until this mess is over. Then you can tell her. Of course, his reasoning begged the question of how and when their
current mess would be resolved. And there was one other thing that Mike couldn’t put out of his mind. Was he really trying to be fair to Nina by staying silent? Or was he still haunted by doubt and mistrust—by the ghost of Karen?

  Nina, too, wrestled with demons as she lay in Mike’s embrace. She had no idea at all what would happen to them on the morrow, or what would be the outcome of the bizarre situation in which she’d found herself. And what of Mike? She didn’t believe that two people could share what they had shared unless the feelings between them were as deep as the sea and as true as the North Star. Mike loved her, of that she was convinced, but she needed to hear it from him. What good was love if it remained unacknowledged? Would he ever be able to put his feelings into words?

  When she finally fell asleep, Nina slept soundly. It was long after dawn when she woke, and the cabin was chilly; the wood fire in the stove had long since burned out. Mike was up and dressed, rubbing at his damp hair with a towel. She stretched and emitted a creaky moan, and he grinned at her.

  “You’ll feel better after a shower,” he advised. “And some food. We forgot all about eating last night.”

  The table was set and Mike had made breakfast. Admittedly, it was a rather odd breakfast. The orange juice was normal enough, but Nina wasn’t used to eating turkey-and-cheese sandwiches and vanilla wafers first thing in the morning. Nonetheless, she licked her lips. “It looks delicious.”

  He laughed. “You’re so hungry right now that possum burgers would look good.”

  She looked up sharply. “You have some?” Wrapping a blanket around herself in lieu of a bathrobe, she padded to the table and began demolishing her share of the food.

  “Look, Nina, I’ve been thinking,” Mike said. “We need help. We can’t just leave here—Irons will have us picked up as soon as we show our faces, and if he’s as bent as I think he is, God knows what’ll happen. He could get us both put away on falsified evidence. Or worse.”