His eyes were smoky and he was very still, looking down at her as though he were waiting for something.
"What do you want?" she whispered, searching his face.
Words stuck in his throat, which surprised him. You, was the only answer, and on any other night, with any other woman, he certainly would have said it.
Isn't it obvious, darling? Can't you tell that I need you? Can't you feel this attraction like I do? Let me make you feel it.. .and afterward we'll go out for a cappuccino.
He'd said that, or something similar, a hundred times. And that was exactly why he couldn't say it now. He knew in some inarticulate part of himself that this was differ ent. This was a quantum leap away from those superficial affairs. He didn't want to say anything, do anything, to cheapen this. Whatever this was, he wanted to hold on, to treasure it.
Maybe he wouldn't sleep with her after all. Maybe he would prove to her, and to himself, just how special this was by holding back.
"Charity," he groaned roughly, burying his face in her hair. "You drive me crazy," he mumbled, breathing in the sweet, fresh scent of her and wishing he could think of something that would convey better what it was he was feeling.
But Charity knew, and she no longer had any ambivalence. A half hour before, she'd been near hysteria think ing of him in her bed while Aunt Doris was down the hall. But now that was forgotten. All that mattered were the turmoil in his voice and finding a way to soothe him. She wanted to give to him whatever she had, whatever would help him.
Reaching out, she ran her hand down his naked back until it reached the cotton pajama bottoms. Hesitating only a moment, she let her fingers slide beneath the belt line until her palm rested firmly on the small of his back, fingertips pressing into flesh.
"Ross," she murmured.
He rose up on his elbow to look at her, his good intentions in mortal combat with his desire.
"Charity," he be gan warningly.
"Love me," she whispered. Her eyes looked huge in the lamplight.
His entire body shuddered. With a groan, he gave in to what had finally become overwhelming-the need to touch her, the need to feel his hardness against her softness, the need to lose himself in her,
His body was hard and felt right as he eased on top of her. When she said, "Yes," it was a long, ecstatic sigh. She gave him her mouth and cradled him with her hips and trembled with the sensations that quivered through her body. Her breasts ached for his touch, and when he began to unbutton her blouse, she helped him. He pushed aside her bra and kissed her, kissing every inch, tugging on the tips, making her whisper, "Oh, Ross!"