Page 82 of The Other Lady Vanishes

“Adelaide.”

He said her name in a hoarse, urgent growl infused with hunger and a need that resonated with something deep inside her.

His hands moved from her shoulders to the buttons of her blouse. He did not release her mouth as he got the garment open. The kiss bound them together as securely as any lock and chain.

She fumbled to tug the hem of his undershirt out of the waistband of his trousers. She had no practical experience in the business. Before Conrad she had enjoyed a few light flirtations with young men who were as shy and uncertain as herself. None of the relationships had progressed beyond stolen kisses and some illicit fondling in the shadows of a porch swing or the front seat of a car.

She had hoped to discover passion with Conrad but he had not encouraged her. His kisses had been nothing if not restrained. At the start of their relationship she had assumed it was because he was determined to be a gentleman. Toward the end she had concluded that she was one of those unfortunate women the doctors labeled frigid. She had been wrong on both counts.

She might be inexperienced but she applied herself to the task of pulling Jake’s undershirt free of his trousers with diligence and determination. The result was that by the time he got the zipper of her trousers down, she was threading her fingers through the crisp, curling hair of his chest. The feel of firm, masculine muscle beneath warm skin was beyond exciting. It was intoxicating.

He finally set her mouth free, albeit with obvious reluctance. He peeled off her blouse and tossed it down on the cot. Her rayon-and-silk knit bra was next. When his palms closed gently over her breasts, she heard him draw in a sharp breath.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

She wasn’t beautiful, not in the way of a star like Vera Westlake, she thought. But, damn, it was exactly the sort of thing a woman needed to hear at a time like this.

He got her loose, flowing trousers open and pushed them down over her hips. They tumbled into a pool on the floor. She kicked the fabric aside, wanting to get it out of the way so that she could get closer to him.

When she was left in only her panties, he picked her up and set her down gently on his cot. He straightened just long enough to get rid of his own trousers and undershirt. In the low light of the fire she could see that he wore the latest in men’s undershorts, a pair of close-fitting briefs. She had seen the ads for them in the newspapers but she had never viewed them in person on a man. As she watched, fascinated, he stepped out of them.

Her mouth went dry. She was the daughter of two scientists and she was a professional librarian. She knew far more about biology than most sexually inexperienced women. Nevertheless, this was the first time she had ever seen a naked, heavily aroused man.

She managed to conceal her shock, but not without considerable effort. She was grateful for the deep shadows in the small cabin.

Instead of coming directly to the cot, Jake picked up his jacket, reached into an inside pocket, and took out a small tin.

“You’re going to smoke a cigarette?” she asked. “Now?”

He laughed. “I don’t smoke.”

“I’m glad to hear that. My father always said that smoking was very bad for the health.”

“Getting pregnant at the wrong time is not a good idea, either. This is a tin of condoms.”

“Oh.”

Talk about naïveté, she thought. She was probably beet red from head to toe. It would probably be a good idea to keep her mouth shut for a while. She did not want to sound any more unworldly than she already did.

Jake sheathed himself and then, very carefully, very deliberately,lowered himself alongside her, gathering her close. She was amazed that the cot did not collapse under their combined weight.

The furnace-hot warmth of his body was far more effective than the blanket when it came to warding off the chill of the damp night.

He touched her the way he might have touched a rare and extremely valuable vase—as if he could not believe he was holding her, as if he was afraid he might drop her. His hand skimmed lightly across her, exploring her with exquisite care, easing his way into the forbidden places.

When he bent his head to kiss the tips of her breasts, she could barely catch her breath. Her lower body clenched. An urgency built deep inside her. She felt like a tautly strung bow in the hands of a skilled archer.

Jake’s fingers went lower and suddenly she was melting. His touch became increasingly intimate. When he stroked between her thighs, she gasped, startled and astonished. He penetrated her gently with one finger, and for a few seconds she could not breathe at all. She curled her fingers into his shoulders and buried her face against his chest.

“Jake.”

“You’re so tight,” he grated against her ear. “Wet and tight and hot. I’m not going to last long once I’m inside you, so we’re going to make damn sure you come first.”

She was shocked all over again. No man had ever talked to her that way. She couldn’t find the words to respond verbally so, feeling very daring, she reached down between them and tentatively wrapped her fingers around him. She was alarmed and excited by the size of his erection.

He groaned again and drove himself deeper into her grasp. She got the message. She tightened her hold on him.

“That feels so good.” He lowered his head and kissed her throat. His words were a feral growl against her skin. “Much too good. But I told you, your turn first.”

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