The Stud by Barbara Delinsky Page B

how slow I can go. Tell me if I hurt you, okay, sweetheart?"
    Jenna didn't hear him at first. Her insides were aflame with a most intense pleasure. She held him tightly with her thighs, then with her arms when she felt she'd go up in smoke.
    "You with me?" he asked in a thick rumble that was made ragged by the rhythmic movement of his hips.
    Her voice was a wisp. "I shouldn't be. "
    "But you are. Jeez, what was that?"
    "What?"
    "You did something inside. "
    She clenched her muscles again. "This?"
    He gave a tortured groan and thrust higher, and it was her turn to groan. The feeling inside her was new and intense. No man had ever excited her this way. She could barely think beyond his hardness, heat and size, and the scent she was coming to recognize as his, maybe theirs. Needing more, she strained against him. Her hands moved through the hair on his chest. She clutched his shoulders and began meeting his thrusts.
    Burying his mouth against her throat, he bowed his back and quickened his pace. Wanting to feel him deeper, then deeper still, she raised her legs to his waist. Reality was beginning to slip away from her when, with a hoarse cry, Spencer climaxed.
    Loving the triumphant sound of his cry and the feel of his pulsing inside her, Jenna held him tightly. Only with the ebbing of his orgasm did she become aware of an inner expectancy unfulfilled. Then, as though he'd read her mind and understood it, she felt his hand slide between their bodies to the place where they were still joined.
    She whispered his name in protest
    "You won't lose anything, " he whispered back. His finger found what it was seeking and began to pluck that swollen flesh. "I'll stay inside you to stopper things up. "
    "No, " she whispered, but reality started slipping again. She grabbed at his wrist, wanting to pull him away. Instead, the movement of his finger made her weak with wanting, so that she had to hold on tight or fall. The heat grew in her belly and spread through her body like a fog, dimming all thought of protest. Her breasts rose and fell. She arched mindlessly closer to Spencer, oblivious to the soft sounds of need that came from her throat until, with a choked cry, she exploded with a pleasure so total that the world went a brilliant, blinding white.

    Jenna had no idea how much later it was when Spencer finally lifted off her. She knew it had been a while. Her breathing was even; the dampness on her skin had dried. She wasn't sure whether she had actually dozed or whether she had simply floated in a stupor of satisfaction that was reinforced by the warmth of his body over hers. But she felt a loss the minute he moved.
    "Stay put, " he whispered, and groped around for her panties. After he had helped her put them on, he fixed his own pants. Then, before she had any inkling of what he planned, he scooped her into his arms.
    She didn't say a word. She felt so lethargic that she wasn't sure she could have moved on her own, and besides, being held close and carried felt good. Too soon she was being set gently down on one of the kitchen chairs.
    Spencer proceeded to reheat the dinner she had made and serve it. He claimed it was delicious and she supposed it was, though she was distracted. She was straggling to put the pleasure she had just felt into a context that had to do with the baby.
    She hadn't bargained for pleasure. She hadn't expected it, didn't want it She didn't want to enjoy something enough to miss it when it was gone. After all, Spencer had done his job and was leaving the next day.
    She knew he was aware of that, too, because what little conversation they had revolved around his manuscript, which would be ready with several more hours of work that night, and his plane, which was repaired and airworthy again. He was planning to fly to New York and drop the manuscript off, then continue south to Florida.
    Because it seemed the only polite thing to do, she told him she would drive him to the airport. "It's only an hour, " she