Deborah Smith - Never Let Go

"Please, Rucker." Dinah abruptly slid to the floor in front of him and repeated raggedly, "Please."

"Don't beg," Rucker said savagely. "You never begged anybody for anything in your life. You're the proudest person I know."

She wrapped both arms around his legs. "I never had to fight like this before. I'll do anything you want."

He couldn't stand it. He bent quickly, grasped her under both arms, and lifted her up. A shudder wracked him as he took her in a tight embrace. She shook just as violently as she burrowed her face into the warm hollow of his neck.

"Hate me if you have to," she murmured brokenly. "Don't trust me. I'll understand and I'll still love you." Her voice grew hoarse with determination. "But help me do what I have to."

"I'm a fool," he muttered. "Because I can't stop wanting to trust you."

"Then do it. Take the chance...."

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The Editors

Never Let Go
by
Deborah Smith

LOVESWEPT 308

To Edythe, M.P.. and Myra Ann three darned good Alabama Smiths

One

The ocean breeze curled into an open bedroom window and stroked his skin. The afternoon sun was a melting kiss on his naked back. Half-awake, he smiled. The breezes had a seductive appeal that made him think of his wife's touch.

Soft lips brushed his ear. She was the ally of the breeze and the sunshine then. Appropriate, he thought. Her tongue teased his earlobe for a moment. "Every woman needs a man." she whispered huskily. "And you're mine. I think I'll take advantage of that fact."

He growled in mock protest and asked, "Without my permission?"

Her fingers feathered down his belly and explored gently. "It shouldn't be a problem." She dipped her head and placed nibbling kisses along the side of his throat. "You taste like the ocean. Are you sure you're not a merman?"

"Nah. I'm Flipper. Or a giant crab."

She pushed at him gently, guiding him onto his back while she knelt beside him. He kept his eyes shut and Inhaled deeply, loving the mingled scents of her light perfume and the ocean air.

"A very fine crab," she told him, as she skimmed her mouth over his. He smiled to himself and arched into the languid movements of her hands.

"I'm bein' seduced."

"No, I think one has to resist in order to qualify for seduction. You're not resisting at all."

His fingers itched to touch her. He lifted a hand slowly until it contacted with something warm and incredibly smooth. Eventually, after some detouring, he identified that something as the lower part of her stomach. He twisted a finger into the soft curls there.

"You've just lost your last protest against seduction," she informed him, her voice airy. "I believe you're actively participating."

"I admit it. I have no virtue." He sighed dramatically.

She bent over him, cupping his face in her hands. In between soft kisses she murmured, "I'll still respect you in the morning."

"This is my first time, you know."

She nuzzled his head back and kissed the underside of his jaw. Her lips vibrated with suppressed laughter. "Ah. yes. You're thirty-nine years old and still pure. The man New Southland magazine once put on a list of the 'Ten Sexiest Writers.' The man Oprah Winfrey called a 'dynamic hunk of cornbread women love to pamper.' "

"I'm... I'm really just an innocent country boy at heart," he said plaintively. "And you're a wicked rich girl raised in Atlanta. A debutante. With a high IQ. And a politician . Oh, woe is me."

"I'll be very gentle. I'll tell you exactly what to do. Don't worry."

"Should I do this?"

She shuddered with pleasure as his exploring hand slid between her legs. "Y-yes."

"My, that gets a reaction." Her head drooped onto his shoulder when he moved his fingers with wanton skill. He turned his face toward hers and whispered, "That's pretty sexy. What should I do now?"

She nearly whimpered. "Don't stop."

He raised his other hand to one of her breasts and stroked the nipple. His voice became a low rumble. "Creep a little closer, lady crab."

She moaned softly and moved forward so that he could kiss her breasts. Bracing an arm by his head, she nestled her face In his pillow and rocked back and forth.

"I reckon I'm doin' this right?" he asked, his lips against her nipple.

Her soft squeak made him chuckle. He quieted as his own throbbing need made him breathless. His fingers continued to delve Into the warm reception between her thighs. "I see that you still like what a rowdy old dirt dauber like me can do to you."

"Not a rowdy old dirt dauber like you. Only you. Just you. I love you so much."

He tilted his head back and kissed a spot over her heart. "Love you. Love you forever, ladybug." With a soft groan of pleasure he pulled her over his body, then opened his eyes lazily. The sight of her, her breasts and stomach misted with desire, her face full of devotion, nearly ruined his control. He brushed a fingertip over her hip. "As Spencer Tracy said about Kate Hepburn. There's plenty of her, and every ounce is choice.' "

She gave him a gently rebuking look, but smiled. "I believe you've twisted that a bit. He said that there wasn't much of her, but what there was, was choice. I'm nearly zqftig all the fault of adopting your penchant for fried chicken and biscuits."

" Zqftig ? I thought you were a Libra." He tried to dodge the playful cuff she aimed at his ear and tweeked her breast in retaliation. Her eyes melted with emotion and she squeezed her thighs around him erotically.

"You're not zqftig ." he assured her. "That's just a polite German word for 'plump.'You're not plump. You're not even German."

She chuckled in delight as he placed both hands on her hips. Guided by his touch, she sheathed him with silky welcome. Her eyes half-shut and face rosy with desire, she appeared ready to purr with happiness.

"What do I do now, ma'am?" he asked coyly.

"Draw your knees up a little."

"Yes, ma'am." He laughed and circled his hips under her. She gasped and tried to move in sync with him, but he held her still. "Like this, teacher?" he asked.

"Yes. Oh, yes. Yes, my darling."

"You're the only woman in the world who can say 'my darling' without soundin' phony or stuck-up."

"Because I use it sincerely." She stroked his chest with quick, distracted movements, her fingers burrowing into the curly hair. "My darling good old boy."

He shut his eyes tightly and willed his body to slow down. "As much as you need, for as long as you need it," he promised. "I aim to please."

She chuckled sexily. "How gallant." She folded from the waist so that her breasts grazed his chest each time he moved under her. She slid her hands around him and hugged him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder.

He raised a hand and cupped the back of her neck. He kept the other hand on her hips and held her to him that way while she quivered and called his name. Every contraction of her body resonated through him, drawing his own heat closer to the surface until he heard himself whispering inarticulate phrases created of love and release mingled with her name.