My Man Pendleton(64)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

What on earth had she gotten herself into? She’d been with a total of one man in her entire life. And Michael hadn’t come anywhere near Pendleton on the hombre scale. She strove for a deep breath, to steady her nerves and gather her thoughts, but all she managed was a thin little hiccup of air. At the tiny, defenseless sound, Pendleton’s smile grew broader, more intent, more predatory. She realized then that she was in for the night of her life.

For a moment, she thought he was going to tell her she was beautiful again, something that would totally destroy the mood, but he remained thankfully silent. Instead, he took a single step forward and reached for her, dipping a hand beneath each side of her shirt. He moved them slowly outward, until the garment skimmed over her shoulders and fell to the floor.

Instinctively, she crossed her arms over the wisp of lavender lace beneath, suddenly feeling modest for some reason. She’d crawled into bed na**d with the man, she reminded herself. She’d invited him to witness her bath. But the stakes were so much higher now, the odds so much more uncertain.

“Don’t,” he said softly, curling his fingers around each of her wrists. “I want to see you.”

She shook her head, but he ignored the gesture, tugging gently on her wrists until she unfolded her arms’ again. The moment she did, he released one of her hands and cupped his fingers possessively over her breast. Just like that. No preparation, no warning, no preliminaries. He simply reached out and made her his own. She wanted him to possess the rest of her body as completely. As if reading her mind, he lifted his other hand to her other breast, and covered it just as possessively.

A shock of heat erupted where he touched her, pooling in her heart, where it gathered strength before shooting out to warm every other part of her body. For a long moment, Pendleton only filled his hands with her, palming her sensitive flesh. Then, with the softest of touches, he skimmed his hands upward, under the straps of her bra. With a quick turn of his wrists, her straps fell down over her shoulders, and he hooked his fingers beneath them to push them down the rest of the way. Kit found herself bared for his perusal, her arms effectively trapped at her sides. Before she could voice a protest, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her breast.

He kissed her softly before drawing her in deep, laving her with the flat of his tongue, teasing her with the tip. She shuddered at the quickness in his change of pace. Then she took some initiative, reaching behind herself to unhook her bra and free her arms, so she could bury her fingers in the silk of his hair and push him closer still. Eagerly, he followed her lead, curling the fingers of one hand beneath the lower curve of her breast, lifting it higher for a more thorough maneuver.

Kit wasn’t sure how it happened, but she registered the cool crush of cotton under her back, and knew they had somehow managed to find their way to the bed. She buried her heels against the mattress and pushed herself higher, an action that left Pendleton’s mouth caressing her belly. To facilitate his endeavors, he quickly unfastened her jeans and hooked his fingers in the waistband, tugging downward to take those, and her panties, and her socks in one easy motion, until she lay beneath him, naked, exposed, vulnerable. Strangely, though, she felt none of those things. She was, after all, covered by Pendleton, by his warmth, by his strength, by his tender, loving care.

When he tossed the last of her clothes to the floor, she expected him to return to his original position, and it took a moment for her to register that he hadn’t. When she glanced down to see where he was, she found him standing by the bed, one hand unhooking the top button of his jeans.

Oh, yes, she thought. He definitely needed to do that. It was no fun at all if only one of them was naked. Well, not nearly as much fun, at any rate.

“Hurry up,” she whispered, surprised at the vehemence of her edict.

He smiled. “Now, now. We have plenty of time.”

“Do we?” Somehow, she wasn’t convinced.

Pendleton seemed to be, because he nodded with much certainty. “Oh, yeah.”

As if to illustrate his patience, he opened his jeans very slowly, button by button by button, so that she heard the whisper of each as it pulled away from its fastening. When he completed the action, he spread the fabric open with another leisurely motion, then pushed the garment down slowly, slowly, slowly over his hips. Beneath, he wore a pair of gray flannel boxers, deceptively conservative, and in no way modest, seeing as they did nothing to hide the extent of his arousal.

Kit chuckled low, the sound of a woman who was utterly and irretrievably turned on. “Are you going to take all night?” she asked.

He nodded. “Count on it.”

He seemed to become as impatient as she then, because he hastily shed both his blue jeans and boxers. When he stood, she caught her breath at the sight of him, a quick little intake of air whose hiss was unmistakable in the otherwise silent room.

Pendleton smiled. “You know, I don’t think there’s anything that turns a man on more than hearing his lover gasp when she sees the size of him. I’ll try not to worry about the fact that you have almost nothing to compare me to, and just take it as a compliment, shall I?”

She nodded. “Most definitely.” She didn’t need to be an expert on the male anatomy to know Pendleton was a man of measure. She only hoped she was enough woman to accommodate him.

“Come back to bed,” she said. “Please.”

He smiled again, and for the first time she could recall, Pendleton did as she asked. He settled first one knee, and then the other, on the mattress, then bent down on all fours to make his way to the head of the bed, where she lay on her side, watching him. Suddenly, she thought she knew how a small animal must feel just before a wolf trotted in to effortlessly carry it off, intent on enjoying it at his leisure.

The image stayed with her as Pendleton circled her ankle with strong fingers and tugged her down a bit. Then he curled his other hand around her knee and pushed her legs open wide. It took a moment for Kit to realize his intention, and when she did, she tried to clamp her legs together again. But Pendleton had already insinuated his hands and himself between her thighs, and he deftly opened her for his clearly growing appetite. Before she could utter a word in protest, he lowered his mouth to her, drawing an idle circle with his tongue before tasting her more deeply.

Kit went limp at the mind-numbing sensation that shot through her like a heat-seeking missile. She tangled her fingers in Pendleton’s hair, ostensibly to urge him away, but she only held his head fast in place, silently commanding him for more. And more. And more.