Chapter 14

A LOW hum of panic churned in his stomach. "Wh-what did you say?"

"I said I'm not going to reschedule the wedding. I'm not going to marry Steve."

Adrenaline pumped through his body. "You're not serious," he said, his chest rising and falling hard.

"Yes, I am."

"But why?"

"That's really between me and Steve, isn't it?"

Remorse sparked in his stomach. "Not if it has something to do with what happened between us." He'd messed with her mind by not keeping his hands to himself. He'd ruined not only her well-laid plans, but Steve's, too. "Those kisses didn't mean anything, Janine. We were thrown together in an intimate situation. You're a beautiful woman, I'm a red-blooded guy. People do strange things in situations like this. Things happen, but it doesn't have to change the course of our lives."

"Don't blame yourself, Derek. I'm grateful to you, really."

"Grateful?"

"For helping me realize that Steve and I wouldn't be happy."

"I never said that," he said, desperate to redirect her thinking. "In fact, you two make a great couple. If you marry Steve, you'll never want for anything."

"Except a kiss like the ones you and I shared," she said, turning to face him.

"Janine," he murmured, his heart falling to his knees. "It was just a kiss. A friendly little kiss from a Best Man to the bride." He tried to laugh, but a strangled sound emerged when she touched his arm. "I think you were right about me not being out here," he said, backing into the corner of the railing. "My throat is starting to tingle."

"Kiss me, Derek," she whispered, following him.

His gut clenched. "Janine, I don't think this is a good idea." But even as his mouth protested, he lowered his head. Their lips came together frantically, as if they were both afraid they might change their minds. He pulled her body against him, groaning with pleasure as her curves molded to fit his angles. She tasted so sweet, he could have bottled her and sold it. His tongue dipped into her mouth, skating over her slick teeth, teasing every surface, savoring every texture. She inhaled, taking his breath, and he lifted her to her toes to claim as much leverage as possible.

Encouraged by her soft moans, Derek slid his good hand under her baggy T-shirt, reveling in the silky texture of the tight skin on her back. He drew away long enough to loosen the tie on his old sweatpants, marveling in the erotic thrill of removing his own clothes from her lithe body. When the pants fell to her ankles, she stepped free of them. The long T-shirt hung to her knees. He pulled her back into a fierce kiss and realized with a start she wasn't wearing underwear. Only a skiff of cotton shirt stood between him and her nakedness.

Wild desire flooded his body, swelling his manhood against the fly of his jeans. Impatiently, he tugged on the makeshift bandage to free his hand and tossed down the napkin. He ran his hand along the cleft of her spine, cupping her rear end, rubbing the sticky-slick honey butter from his hand into her smooth skin. Lifting her against him, he slid his fingers down to the backs of her thighs, curving to the inside. His knees weakened when he felt the tickle of soft curls against his knuckles, and the wetness of her excitement under his fingers.

He lifted his head, stunned to a moment of sanity. But she met his gaze straight on, her eyes glazed, but unwavering. When she shuddered in his arms, Derek was lost. He lifted her in his arms and somehow managed to get them back into the room, where he set Janine on the bed. She glanced around the room, uncertainty clear in her expression.

Derek ground his teeth, nearly over the edge for her, but he was determined to give her a chance to change her mind. "The lights," she murmured.

He almost buckled in relief that her concern was modesty, but he shook his head. "Lights on, Pinky, I want to see all of you." With slow deliberation, he lifted the black T-shirt over her head, then swept his gaze over her, exhaling in appreciation.

She was slender and fine-boned, as shapely as a sculpted statue, her limbs elongated to elegant proportions. Her long blond braid nestled between perfect breasts, pink-tipped and lifted in invitation. Her slim waist gave way to flaring hips, her taut skin interrupted only by the divot of her navel. A tuft of dark golden hair peeked from the vee of her thighs. Not trusting himself to speak, he gathered her in his arms and kissed the long column of her neck.

Janine arched into him, plowing her fingers through his hair, urging him lower, to her breasts. Her trembling excitement heightened his own desire, which had already spiked higher than he could ever recall. When he pulled a pearled nipple into his mouth, she gasped, a long and needful sound. As he suckled on the peaks alternately, she clawed his shirt up over his back, running her nails over his shoulder blades, making him crazy with lust. He wanted to take his time to give her pleasure, but her enthusiasm overwhelmed him. He'd intended to leave her breasts only long enough for her to remove his shirt, but she continued to tug and pull at his clothes until he was naked, too.

* * *

JANINE WAS speechless with wanting him, her body fairly shaking in anticipation of their joining. Derek's body was covered with smooth defined muscle, lightly covered with dark hair, his shoulders breathtakingly wide, his stomach flat, his erection jutting, his thighs powerful. But his eyes were the most captivating part of him.

Softened with desire, his chocolate eyes delivered a promise of tenderness and finesse... all the things she'd dreamed of for her first time. Pushing herself back on the bed, she reclined in what she hoped was, an invitation.

It was.

Derek crawled onto the bed with her, stopping short to kiss her knees, her thighs. Her stomach contracted with expectation, and her muscles tensed as his lips neared the juncture of her thighs. "Derek," she whispered, half terrified, half thrilled.

"Shh," he whispered as he eased open her legs.

She surrendered to the languid, rubbery feeling in her limbs, lying back in anticipation of... what? She wasn't sure, but only knew that if Derek was offering, she was taking. But she was unprepared for the shocking jolt of pleasure when his tongue dipped to stroke her intimate folds. Her legs fell open as she momentarily lost muscle control. An animal-like groan sounded in the room and she realized the noise had come from her throat.

She'd never known such intense indulgence, such sensual pampering. His tongue moved up and down, evoking spasms each time he stroked the little knob tucked in the midst of her slick petals. A low hum of energy swirled in her body, coming from all directions, but leading to a place deep within her womb. The loose sensations suddenly bundled together, then grew in force, as if they were trying to escape her body. Lulled into the rhythm set by his skillful mouth, she began to move with and against him. The ball of desire rolled faster and faster until she heard herself screaming for release. Then suddenly, a flash of pleasure-pain gripped her body, lifting her to a plateau of shattering ecstasy, then lowering her with numbing slowness back to earth… back to the bed… back to Derek.

Her body had barely stopped convulsing when he drew himself even with her and claimed another kiss. The musky smell of her own desire shocked her, the sharing of it so intimate. She thanked him with her kiss, pressing her sated body next to his, thrilling at the feel of his hard erection stabbing her thigh. Emboldened by his method of pleasing her, she reached down to gently grasp his arousal. His eyes fluttered closed as he groaned his approval, and she was gratified by the moisture that oozed from the tip. Stroking him with long, gentle caresses, she murmured against his neck, "Make love to me, Derek."

He lifted his head, his desire for her clear in his eyes. "Janine, I don't have protection with me."

"In my coat pocket," she said, thankful for Marie's forethought.

After a few seconds' hesitation, he lumbered to his feet, and was back in record time, ripping open a plastic packet with unrestrained vigor. She watched, riveted, as he squeezed the tip of the rubber, then quickly rolled it over his huge erection.

Weak with anticipation, Janine welcomed him back into her arms. They kissed, with fingers entwined, then he rolled her beneath him. Propped on his elbows, he held her hands on either side of her head, pressing them into the soft mattress with his strong fingers. Locking his gaze with hers, he settled between the cradle of her thighs, easily probing her still-wet entrance.

"Janine," he breathed.

A statement? A question? Heavy-lidded, his eyes glittered dark and luxurious. "Now," she whispered.

He entered her with a long, easy thrust, accompanied by their mingled moan of temporary satisfaction. The unbelievable sensation of him filling her overrode the fleeting stab of pain. He moved within her, slowly at first, and from the look of the muscle straining in his neck, with much restraint. But soon she was ready for his rhythm, urging him to a faster tempo with her hips, and clenching little-used internal muscles.

His guttural noises of pleasure banished any doubts she might have had about satisfying him. Content in the knowledge that what felt good to her also felt good to him, she rose to meet his powerful thrusts, sensing his impending release as their bodies met faster and faster. Suddenly he tensed and drove deep, burying his head in her neck, heralding his climax with a throaty growl of completion.

Holding him and holding on, she rocking with him until he quieted, until his manhood stopped pulsing.

She hadn't known, she marveled. Marie had told her. Cosmo had told her. Oprah had told her. But she hadn't known how wonderful intimacy could be with a man she truly cared about.

Janine stiffened at the bombshell revelation, her eyes flying open.

Derek lifted himself on one elbow. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," she murmured. But her chest was starting to tighten, and she recognized the warning signs of a panic attack. "But I need to get up."

He carefully withdrew from her body, but instead of rolling over as she'd expected, he sat up and gently pulled her into a sitting position. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, but the tug on her heart when she looked into his concerned eyes spurred her to change the subject, and fast. "I'm hungry now."

A grin climbed his face and he ran his hand through his hair. "Me too. I'll be right with you."

As he strode toward the bathroom, Janine reached for the T-shirt, then backtracked to the balcony for the sweatpants, her mind reeling.

The night air had taken on a sweeter pungency. Her senses seemed honed as she zeroed in on night birds crooning and insects chirping. Everything was louder, fresher, more vibrant. The world hadn't changed in the last hour, she acknowledged, but she certainly had.

She'd never experienced such physical and emotional intimacy with another person, and the intensity of their union frightened her. She felt vulnerable and exposed because she knew the encounter couldn't have meant as much to Derek as it had meant to her. Her heart squeezed when she thought of his face, his smile, his touch, but she quickly pushed aside her inappropriate response.

She didn't really care for Derek, she reasoned. She was only fond of him because, after all, she'd given him her virginity. Of course she would feel attached to him in the immediate aftermath of something so momentous in her life.

But try as she might to calm herself, to distract herself, to convince herself otherwise, the tide of emotions continued to churn in her chest. She wasn't in love with Derek, she admonished herself. That would be irrational. Illogical. And highly irregular.

Stunned, Janine forced herself to dress hastily but could find only one flip-flop. She leaned over the railing and peered into the dark. Although she didn't see any flashes of yellow, she caught a glimpse of bright white—Derek's napkin-turned- bandage. Her flip-flop was probably down there somewhere, along with her water bottle. Glancing at her left hand wrapped around the railing, Janine stifled a cry of alarm. Along with something else?

* * *

DEREK CAREFULLY removed the condom, dutifully checking for tears, especially since his orgasm had been so explosive. He frowned at the slight traces of blood, hoping their sex hadn't been uncomfortable for Janine. She certainly hadn't sounded uncomfortable. Frankly, her eagerness had surprised him, and just remembering her spirited responses made his body twitch. He could get used to her—

He stopped midmotion and gave himself a hard look in the mirror. He could get used to her... kind of enthusiasm. Ignoring the questions niggling at the back of his mind, he returned to the bedroom and pulled on his underwear. Janine had stepped onto the balcony, probably to fetch her clothes. He stuck his head out to check on her, and his heart lurched when her sobs reached his ears.

Remorse stabbed him. Had he hurt her? "Janine, what's wrong?" Panicked, he touched her arm, prepared to repair whatever damage he'd caused.

"I lost it," she said tearfully.

"Lost what?" he said, then spotted the sole sandal she held. "Your flip-flop? Don't cry, it's just a—"

"Not my shoe," she said, her tone desperate. "I lost my engagement ring."