She cried out, straining against the bonds around her arms until her fingers sank into his thick hair. She held him there while he paid equal attention to each breast. Shifting restlessly, she twined her legs over the back of his thighs and urged him forward. He obliged, burying his face in her neck and rocking his hips against her. She welcomed him, complaining of the clothes separating them. He arched rhythmically and groaned, low and deep. She clamped her legs around his waist, tossed her head back, and gave a great big shudder of need.
Grey clenched his jaw, suppressing the instinctive urge to free the erection straining the fly of his shorts, strip off Mariah's clothes and take her, fast and hard. He'd never meant for things to get so out of control. He'd meant to seduce her, yes, but never had he expected her to be so willing, so eager, not after she'd demanded they not make love this weekend.
But that's exactly what she wanted. He could feel it in the softening of her body, hear it in the panting of her breath. He lifted his head and peered at her flushed face. He could see it in her eyes, smoky with passion.
He swore. This wasn't the romantic reunion he'd envisioned for him and Mariah. True, they'd formed a special bond today, and as much as he wanted her, he didn't want to take advantage of the situation and jeopardize their fragile truce. Or have her regret making love later, when desire cleared and reality intruded.
"Grey?" she questioned huskily.
Her dreamy and aroused expression threatened his resistance. "We made a deal, remember?" He choked on the words. Damn, she should be reminding him of that!
She either didn't remember their pact, or she didn't care. Her fingers found the loops in the waistband of his shorts and tugged impatiently. Thank God she couldn't reach the snap and zipper, or he'd be a goner for sure.
Lifting her head, she nuzzled his throat, sank her teeth gently into his neck, then soothed the love bite with her tongue. He sucked in a quick breath at her brazen display, his heartrate accelerating off the scale. He attempted to move off her, but the fingers caught in his belt loops, the legs tangled around his, held him secure.
A hoarse, helpless laugh erupted from him. "I'm trying real hard to be good here, Mariah, but I need your help."
She whimpered. The softness of want and need in her gaze nearly killed him. He had her right where he'd been trying to get her for over a month. He was a fool to let her go, but he'd be a bigger fool to risk losing her trust. And that meant keeping a promise he'd made. No making love.
He brushed her hair away from her face, feeling the quiver of her body beneath his. A quiver from being strung too tight and needing release. He might not be able to slake his own lust, but that didn't mean he couldn't take the edge off hers.
He skimmed a hand over her hip and along the length of silken thigh. "Let me take care of you," he murmured. He knew all it would take was the intimate glide of his fingers between damp folds of flesh, the heat and touch of his mouth, the soft stroking of his tongue, to give her body the pleasure it sought.
She shook her head and drew a deep breath as if to gather her composure. "No. When we make love, I want you with me all the way."
His pulse stilled. When, not if. Dare he hope?
She touched his jaw lightly, a tremulous smile lifting her lips. "But for tonight, will you just hold me in your arms?"
Turning his head, he placed a kiss in her palm. "Yeah, I'd like that." He certainly didn't want to spend another night alone.
Moving off her, he gave a grimace as he stood, his aroused body screaming with frustration. He helped her up, adjusted her blouse so he wasn't tempted by her lush curves, and let her have the privacy of the bathroom first.
Ten minutes later, after they'd both changed and their earlier passion had time to cool, Mariah climbed into bed beside Grey and snuggled into his embrace. With a deep sigh that feathered across his chest, her arm draped over his waist, she drifted off to sleep.
Grey remained awake. Stroking Mariah's hair, he reveled in the contentment ribboning through him, a feeling unlike anything he'd ever experienced. One he'd only shared with Mariah.
One thing was for certain. He never wanted the warm, comforting feeling to end.
Chapter Seven
"What time are we leaving today?" Mariah asked Grey as he helped her make the bed the following morning. Sunshine streamed through the lace curtains framing the bedroom window, warming her as much as being wrapped in Grey's arms during the night had. She'd missed the intimacy of sleeping with Grey, the way he curled his body around hers from behind, and the possessive way his palm always seemed to find the curve of her breast.
Smoothing her hand over a wrinkle in the quilt, she smiled at the memory of his sweet, nuzzling, good-morning kiss against her neck and his admirable restraint. She'd awoken to the feel of his arousal pressing against her bottom. It would have been so easy for him to shimmy up the nightgown he'd bought her, ease her panties down and slide deep inside where she'd wanted him last night. Where she'd ached for him that morning still.
Sighing, she glanced up at him, wondering if he'd heard her question. He stood at the opposite side of the bed, wearing khaki shorts, a red polo shirt and a determined look. "Grey?"
He picked up one of the throw pillows on the floor beside him and turned it over in his hands. "I was thinking about staying up here a few more days."
"A few more days?" she echoed, frowning. It was Sunday, and they both had businesses to run. Starting tomorrow morning.
His shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. "Just until the end of the week."
"The end of the week!" She came around the bed, unable to believe he'd suggest something so spontaneous and rash. To her way of thinking, a week constituted more than just "a few days." They'd shared a wonderful weekend together but they couldn't stay up in Arrowhead forever. "Grey, I don't think that would be such a good idea."
"I think it's a great idea. My best one yet." He tossed the pillow against the headboard, and when his gaze met hers again, the depths were filled with a recklessness that made her distinctly uneasy. "Mark said I could use the place as long as I need it, so why not make the most of things?"
She shook her head. It was unlike Grey to be so…reckless. "Because I have appointments to keep, clients to see, contracts to go over and sign. A business to operate!"
"So do I, but it can all wait a week." He braced his fists on his hips, his stance firm and unyielding. "I'm willing to clear my entire schedule for you. For us."
"I can't believe what you're saying!" She paced to the end of the bed, trying to reason with a man who'd once been so reasonable. "You can't hold me hostage for a week-"
"Wanna bet?" A wicked grin curved his mouth as he slowly moved toward her. "I kinda like the sound of you being my captive, at my mercy…"
She abruptly stopped, steeling herself against his words, his advance, that bone-melting, she'd-do-anything-ior-me smile, and held up her hand to ward him off. "Then you stay and I'll go. Give me the keys to the Jeep," she ordered.
"Search me for them," he dared her, holding his arms wide to give her access to every inch of him. "If you find them, we'll go."
The only thing she would find was a body to die for, and a man who'd enjoyed every minute of the frisking. She sighed in frustration and dragged her hand through her hair. "Why are you doing this?"
Quicker than she could anticipate, he reached out, slid his hand around her neck and brought her mouth to his. He summed up his answer in a deep, emotion-filled kiss that left her breathless, as soft as dew and clinging to him. A kiss so full of need and longing and a thousand other feelings that touched her heart and swept through her soul.