KATHRYN felt like a rabbit, caught in the middle of a road, spotlighted by the bright beams of an oncoming car. She couldn't move. Her legs had turned to water, the muscles in them quivering like melting jelly. Only her spine stiffened, an instinctive reaction to feeling under threat. And her senses sharpened.
The room smelled stuffy from having the windows shut. At least it was tidy, the bed neatly made, though the quilt was gone and the pillows were slightly awry from its removal. Heat was rushing through her, scorching her cheeks, making her squirm inside. She heard the soft swish of clothes being removed. It jerked her head around.
Mitch was standing by the doorway, only a metre from where she remained rooted to the spot. His suit coat was gone. He was sliding his tie out from under his collar. But his eyes were on her, watching, burning with a sizzling challenge as he tossed the tie onto the coat which had already been dropped on the floor. His hands started flicking open the buttons on his shirt.
'Tell me to stop if you want me to, Kathryn.'
Stop? The word echoed around her mind, losing any meaning it might have had as her fascinated gaze clung to what was being revealed of his body. There was hair on his chest but not a lot—shaped like a T, running down to the waistband of his trousers, dipping below it to…she wanted to know, wanted to see, her own poignant sense of vulnerability overridden by a compulsion to have this intimate view of him.
He was so very powerfully built, the strongly muscular shoulders and arms emanating a manliness that grabbed at her heart—a man who could and would fight for her safety, the ultimate protector. Who was even now intent on protecting her from making an impulsive decision which might feel wrong in the morning.
Kathryn knew it wouldn't.
A man like Mitch Tyler was rare in this world. Not to experience all of him was unthinkable.
Shoes and socks gone.
She turned to face him, deliberately removing her bra to show him she had no intention of stopping anything. Her nipples instantly tightened into jutting hardness. He stood still, staring at her bared breasts. They were reasonably well shaped, if a little on the small side, Kathryn fiercely told herself, refusing to be daunted now, fighting the panicky feeling that she might not measure up to other women he'd had.
His broad chest expanded with a sharply indrawn breath. His gaze lifted to hers, glittering with determined purpose. 'Do I need to use a condom, Kathryn?'
Relief rushed through her. He still found her desirable. He wasn't going to stop. And she trusted him to be safe. He was a protector.
'No. I'm on the pill,' she answered quickly, recoiling from the idea of having any barrier between his flesh and hers. The contraceptive pills she'd been taking had kept her safe from pregnancy this past year. No need for anything else.
She kicked off her shoes, recklessly eager now for what was coming with Mitch Tyler.
He started unfastening his trousers.
Her hands whipped to the zipper at the back of her skirt, determined on matching his undressing, not letting any inhibitions telegraph uncertainty to him. Intensely desirable, he'd said. And he wasn't hesitating in stripping himself completely free of clothes. As long as she kept watching him, not thinking of herself, she'd be fine.
It was good that the light was on. Without it she wouldn't have been able to see the full length of him…magnificently naked. He was so beautifully male, his strong physique perfectly proportioned, every millimetre of him exuding dynamic virility.
And suddenly it was totally and gloriously irrelevant if her own body lacked some wonderfully stunning feminine allure. The sight of her—or the thought of her—had certainly triggered full sexual arousal in Mitch Tyler, his erection unashamedly blatant, wildly increasing her own excitement.
Yet still there were a few nerve-twanging moments as he simply looked at her, his gaze roving down over her tartly peaked breasts to the small triangle of auburn hair that hid her sex, lingering there, causing her inner muscles to contract at an uncontrollable rush of moist heat.
'You are magic,' he murmured, and moved slowly toward her, shaking his head as though trying to free his mind from some spellbound state.
Kathryn shook her head, too, more in incredulous confusion. How could he associate magic with her? What did he mean by it? But there was no time to think. His arms were sliding around her waist and his body was closing in on hers—bare flesh contact—an explosion of sensation bursting through her. He held her tightly to him. She felt enveloped by his strength.
Yet he was tender, too, rubbing his cheek gently over her hair. 'I want you to feel good about this, Kathryn.'
His caring for her, over and above his own physical urgency, reinforced all she knew of him, adding a special glow to what she was feeling. It wasn't just sexual attraction, not on her part, not on his, either. The connection went deeper, touching, filling the lonely emptiness in her heart.
'Let me make love to you,' he softly urged. 'Let me experience all that you are.'
The repetition of her own words swept away any sense of inhibition.
There could be no holding back if they were ever to reach that mutual satisfaction. This was a time for giving whatever was asked. She tilted her head back to look into his eyes—eyes that bored straight through to her soul with their burning need—and instantly gave him her trust.
'Yes,' she whispered. Such a little word, yet it carried a mountain of consent, a mountain to be scaled however he chose, taking her with him.
His face broke into a smile, pleasure bursting from him, pleasure he transmitted to her mouth in a kiss that was more intent on tasting and exploring an escalating sense of intimacy than stirring an immediate and overwhelming passion. His restraint—control—was both tantalizing and incredibly seductive.
He scooped her off her feet and carried her to the bed, his eyes gleaming wickedly as he said, 'You bring out the caveman in me, Kathryn Ledger.'
She laughed, bubbles of wild happiness dancing in her brain. If they were living in primitive times, she thought, sharing Mitch Tyler's cave would definitely be the best place to be in every sense…especially having him come home to her, sweeping her up in his arms, laying her down as he was doing now, hovering over her in all his magnificent maleness, poised to take possession, her own body brilliantly alive with anticipation, humming with joy because she was his pleasure.