Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Can - By Kat Martin Page 0,41

glass doors. Claire leaned her head against his shoulder, her mahogany hair spilling over his chest as he made his way back into the motel room and settled her in the middle of her bed.

For several long moments, he just stood there staring down at her, wondering if she regretted what she had given him. Figuring she probably did. He’d rushed her, taken what he wanted. What he’d so desperately needed. He hadn’t expected her to be so responsive, so passionate. Hadn’t figured her to climax so fast and so hard.

A red-car woman after all.

Another time he might have smiled.

“I was rough with you,” he said a little gruffly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” But even if he hadn’t, in a different way, sooner or later he would.

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“What do you want from me, Claire?”

She gazed up at him, her eyes on his face. “I could ask the same of you.”

He knew what he wanted, what he had no right to. “I want more of you. A lot more. I’ve wanted you since you walked into my house and I asked you to make me a pot of coffee.”

“Ordered me to make you a pot of coffee.”

He didn’t smile. “I’m not an easy man.”

Her mouth faintly curved. “No.”

“Outside just now, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” But it had, and he had been right. Sleeping with Claire didn’t feel like just sex. There was something about her, something strong and brave and dependable that drew him. Yet she was as soft and feminine as any woman he had ever known.

“You asked me what I want,” she said. “I want you to make love to me again. I want you to sleep in my bed. In the morning, I want you to forget this ever happened. I want you to pretend nothing has changed so we can go on the way we were. So that we can find Sam.”

It was a wet dream come true. A woman who wanted ten-shot-tequila sex. Sex with no memory at all of what had happened. No morning-after regrets. He wondered why it bothered him.

He made no reply, just peeled off his jeans and climbed into bed beside her. He kissed her as he lifted off her soft cotton nightshirt, ignoring the teddy bear on the front that somehow made him feel guilty. He looked his fill at her perfect, apple-round breasts, went hard again, almost to the point of pain.

His wanting hadn’t lessened. He hadn’t really expected that it would. Claire gave a soft little sigh as he came up over her, settled himself between her legs. Her fingers dug into the muscles across his shoulders, and his blood began to pound.

He could feel every contour of her slender, elegant body, every feminine curve. He reminded himself to go slow, that there were hours left till dawn, but the need was burning through him, hot and raging. He kissed her deeply, kissed her until she shifted restlessly beneath him, and knew her needs matched his own.

They had hours before the night was over, he reminded himself. And no recriminations in the morning.

Ben wondered if there was a woman on the planet who could actually keep that promise. He told himself it was exactly what he wanted.

Twelve

Claire rolled her carry-on down the motel hallway, heading for the rented SUV. As soon as his office in Houston had opened, Ben had been on the phone with his friend, looking for information.

As soon as they had gotten out of bed.

Claire beat down the thought. All morning Ben had been eyeing her warily, waiting for her to bring up their wild night of lovemaking. More amazing than she ever could have dreamed. She was pleasantly sore all over and relaxed all the way to her bones.

Ben was waiting for her to bring it up, but it wasn’t going to happen. The man could wait till hell froze over. Until his icy eyes turned pea-green. The subject of last night was over. Closed. Finished. As if it had never occurred. She had never done anything so impulsive, never behaved with so much abandon. She wanted to forget it even more than he did.

Not to say that she ever would. A woman didn’t forget a night of multiple orgasms—especially when it had never happened to her before. Ben was an incredible lover, or at least he knew how to press all her personal hot buttons. And she had a hunch he had been holding back, not pushing