Hawk's Way Grooms by Joan Johnston Page B

words. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. He wanted her something fierce. He just wasn’t the experienced bed partner she thought he was. He caught her by the wrist and pulled her back into his arms and held her tight, biting back a groan at the exquisite feel of her breasts crushed against his chest with only the sheer cloth between them.
    â€œIt’s all right, Mac,” she said in a brittle voice. “I made a mistake. Let me go, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
    She held herself stiff and unyielding in his arms. “Jewel—”
    â€œDon’t try to make me feel better. I deserve to feel like an idiot, throwing myself at you like this. I just thought…with all your experience…”
    This time he did groan.
    She tried to pull away, and he said, “You don’t understand.”
    â€œI understand you don’t find me attractive. I’m sorry for forcing myself on you like this.”
    â€œNo!” Tell her the truth, Macready. She’s your friend. She’ll understand.
    But the words stuck in his throat. If he hadn’t cared for her, if he didn’t want her so badly, if things hadn’t changed between them like they had, maybe he could have confessed the truth.
    â€œIt’s not that I’m not attracted to you,” he said.
    He saw the look on her face and realized she didn’t believe him. How could she not see the truth when it was throbbing like mad beneath the thin sheet that separated them?
    â€œThen why won’t you make love to me?” she challenged.
    â€œBecause…”
    He couldn’t tell her the truth, and he saw she believed the worst—that she had imposed herself where she wasn’t wanted, and he was rejecting her as kindly as he could.
    â€œAw, Jewel,” he said again. His voice was tender, as gentle as he wished he could be with her.
    She made a keening sound in her throat, a mournful sound that made him ache somewhere deep inside.
    He realized he had no choice. He had to try to make love to her. He couldn’t botch things much worse than he already had. He leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers, restraining the rush of passion he felt at the touch of her soft, damp lips.
    She moaned and arched her body against his. Her mouth clung to his, and he felt her need and her desire.
    Maybe it’s going to be all right. Maybe I can get us both through this.
    He tried to hold back, so he wouldn’t scare her. Yet when his tongue slipped into her mouth it found an eager welcome. He thrust deep, mimicking the sex act, and she riposted with her tongue in his mouth.
    He thought the top of his head was going to come off. He had never felt so out of control. His hands slid down her arms, feeling the goose bumps and her shiver of anticipation. She was as excited as he was. She wanted him, too.
    His lips started down her slender throat, across the silky flesh that led to her breastbone and downward, giving her plenty of warning where he was headed. She could have stopped him anytime she wanted. He wasn’t an animal. He had his desire on a firm leash.
    She cried out when his mouth latched onto her nipple, and he sucked hard through the cotton. Mac knew it wasn’t a cry of fear, because her hands grasped his hair and held him there.
    Her moan of pleasure urged him on. He released her breast momentarily and kissed her mouth again, an accolade for her trust in him. “I won’t hurt you, Jewel. I would never hurt you,” he murmured against her lips.
    â€œI know, Mac. I know,” she replied in gasping breaths.
    Their tongues dueled dangerously, inciting them both to greater passion. He clasped her shoulders, making himself go slow, telling himself Go Slow. He slid his hand across the damp cotton that covered her breasts all the way down to her belly, wishing the damned nightgown wasn’t between his palm and her flesh, but feeling the heat of her even through the thin