Real Romance - By Ginny Baird Page 0,35

rhythm and her whole world started to dissolve.

Marie arched her hips as David caressed her breast with one hand and cupped her bottom in the other. Then he began to ride her hard and fast.

"More!" she cried out, as he tightened his grip and lowered his mouth to hers.

Their tongues tangled, their teeth nipped, and he thrust harder, over and over again, sending her to one peak after another. Marie bit his shoulder, his neck, lost in passion... until they each cried out, a deep primitive sound that united them both and sent them spiraling into bliss.

David wrapped his arms around the sex goddess snuggled against his chest. He had suspected from the start there was more to Marie than met the eye, but he'd had no way of knowing she'd respond so ardently.

"Well. That was heaven on earth. What next?"

"Dunno," she murmured. "Let's do it again."

"You're insatiable."

"If you've got a better idea, I'd like to hear it," she said sleepily.

He ruffled her already tousled hair. "You're only half awake. How about a bedtime story?"

"Hmm. Just so long as it's not Silence In The Trees."

"Hell, no."

Something in his tone made Marie sit up partway, and study him for a long moment. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me you didn't like that book?"

David yanked up the sheet and buried his chin in the covers. "Guilty," he said, barely visible from his eyebrows up.

He lowered the blankets and gave a tentative smile. "Do you hate me?"

"Hate you? Oh, David! You nut," she said, giving him a playful shove. "Silence In The Trees was without question one of the most boring books I've ever read. But"—she stretched one long leg over his marvelously hairy calves, and snuggled closer—"I thought you liked it!"

"Well, honestly," he said, lightly caressing her arm. "It was a strain making it past Chapter Two."

"But you said—"

"No, I didn't," he said, shaking his head. "I said I thought you'd like it. Hey, wait a minute!"

He tilted sideways and tried to meet her eyes. "Next, you're going to tell me you don't like reading Publishers Weekly either."

"I don't," she said, sounding indignant. "Except, of course, when business calls for it. I'm a bookstore manager, what do you think? I read all the journals, but that doesn't have to mean they're my idea of fun."

David swatted her on the bottom through the thick layer of bedclothes. "That's my girl! I knew you had better sense than that."

He cocked one eyebrow. "You prefer that steamy stuff—"

"Romance, David. It's called romance."

"Oh, right. I really liked the part where that buxom librarian and her friendly doc were getting, uh, romantic."

Marie grabbed him by the chin and looked up. "Admit it, big boy, you liked that book, didn't you?"

"Wellll..." He drew the word out, stalling for time.

"David Lake!" she said, releasing his chin and popping his shoulder. "You were really into it... I saw you. Anyway, what do you like to read?"

"Well, I've got another confession," he said, ducking back under the blankets. "And this one, I don't think you're going to like as much."

He couldn't see her troubled look.

"I don't read much," his muffled voice said through the covers. "Not really." He peeped out into the darkness, expecting a verbal assault. "That is, unless you count the sports section of the newspaper."

He was sure that she'd be angry, that she'd discount him as a worthless fraud. But instead, she burst out laughing.

"Oh, David, I'm so glad."

"Glad? That I'm not well-read or—"

"David," she said, patting his chest, "I like you just the way you are." The fact that he wasn't into pretentious modern literature made him even more attractive than she'd found him to begin with. And to think, at one time she'd compared him to that unmentionable man now in New York.

David sighed and hugged her tighter. "Well, I'm glad that little mix-up with Cecil didn't do any lasting damage."

Marie wriggled out of his grasp and sat bolt upright in bed, clutching the blankets to her chest. "What mix-up? What are you talking about?"

"Well, I might as well tell you," he said, reaching over to massage her arm. "Now that we have an understanding."

She scooted over on the bed and withdrew from his reach.

"Hey," he said, his hand suspended in the darkness.

"David, tell me the truth. The whole truth, this time, about you and Cecil."

"Huh?"

"David," she said sternly, as if she were scolding a child.

"It's nothing," he said quickly. "Nothing, I swear. I didn't know the guy from Adam when I walked into the