Chapter Eight

Neal didn’t swear; he knew it would be useless, just as he knew he could no longer fight. In defeat, in recognition of everything he craved, his arms closed tight around Candace. For one precious instant he held her with a strength born of an intrinsic fear of losing the one thing, the one person, he wanted more than life itself.

Years of denial were unlocked; years of dreaming were, literally, in his grasp ready to enjoy. If only for this one night, he could take without thought to right or wrong. If only for this one moment out of time, he would not question whether he deserved this rare and priceless gift. He would take all she offered. And live the rest of his life with the memory.

As his mouth sampled and tasted, his hands dove under her shirt. He groaned as he felt the warmth and softness of bare skin. He shuddered when he filled his hand with her breast. He molded her, squeezing, tantalizing them both by bringing her nipples to a tight peak.

She was restless under his searching hands, moving as if she couldn’t get close enough to him. The thought had him lifting his head, his passion fueled by her moan at the loss of his mouth. With impatience bordering on desperation, he all but ripped the shirt off her.

She didn’t gasp in surprise or indignation; she didn’t shrink away or try to cover herself in any way; she simply waited for him, her eyes open only a fraction and her breath coming in quick scattered pants. Knowing she had surrendered to him with an abandon he hadn’t dared dream possible, his mouth replaced his hand on her breast.

She arched, her hips slamming into his. He suckled, licked, and whispered his lips over first one breast and then the other. Each taste left him greedy for more.

Though she accepted, followed wherever he took her, she didn’t remain docile. She tugged his shirt free of his waistband while her nails scraped and bit into his back as he continued to feast on the taste and texture that was uniquely her. Her kisses roamed his cheek and forehead, as if seeking to taste every inch of him. She measured the pulse of his heart jumping in his throat with her lips.

She murmured his name, a low keening sound that encouraged him to do more.

Forgotten was any further reflection on their past or their differences; dismissed was any thought of how she’d been so cruelly treated at the hands of the wrong man; ignored were their surroundings. All that mattered in this one glorious moment was she belonged to him.

It was more than urgency that drove him now; it was desperation. The frantic desperation to claim her battled the torment of wanting to extend this glory for as long as humanly possible. And if it meant giving his soul to the devil for this opportunity, Neal was prepared to be damned for all eternity.

His hand trailed down and his fingers stroked the inside of her thigh. With their lips pressed, their tongues mating, he slipped a finger beneath the hem of her boxer shorts—to discover she wore nothing beneath the cotton. There he found a heat and liquid femininity that urged him to caress her to a shattering peak. Her long cry of release bounced off the walls as it reverberated in his heart.

He lifted his head and watched the emotions play over her face as he urged her higher, as he continued to push her to a new level. Even as he admitted it wasn’t as high as he wanted to take her. When her tremors lessened, when she lay prone on the table slack and drained, he drew back. Her brows puckered in the instant before he stripped her shorts free. Now, beyond all rational thought, he slid her further onto the kitchen table.

And, lowering his mouth, took what she’d given no man before him.

Too much. Dazed, overwhelmed, Candace couldn’t get a grip on everything she felt swirling and twisting inside of her. Neal’s hands and mouth stripped her, invaded her, pleasured her. It was a glorious whirlpool of emotion, dragging her to a depth she’d never known existed, lifting her to a height she felt certain no woman had ever known before. It sucked her breath dry, caused her heart to beat a heavy cadence in her chest, made her arms and legs too weak to move.

And she’d gladly have sacrificed her soul for the opportunity to experience it all again.

She’d known making love with Neal, having him touch her, would be beyond anything she’d ever known. She had no idea it would shatter her so completely. And while it split wide her every illusion, it also filled her with a new awareness and sense of power.

Never would she have allowed Anthony the intimate freedom she granted Neal. How could she when her heart had never been given to Anthony the way it had always belonged to Neal?

It wasn’t the slow, gentle loving she’d fantasized about, but neither was it the harsh, cold sex she’d only known. She gave Neal any and every liberty he could demand, and not once did she feel embarrassed, vulnerable, or dominated in any way other than the most pleasurable way imaginable.

Heat, she discovered, when mixed with love could never be cruel, no matter the speed or circumstances under which it was expressed.

Heat would also burn if you simply stood by and accepted rather than share the warmth. That single thought broke into the sensual cocoon Neal had wrapped her in. Candace suddenly sank her hands into his hair to drag his mouth back to hers.

She luxuriated in the taste of him. She dipped and tangled her tongue with his, swallowed his moan as the passion between them grew beyond the already unbelievable boundary they’d explored. After breaking contact only long enough to tug his shirt over his head, her hands explored the breadth and width of his chest.

“Candace. No more—not here.”

“Oh, yeah.” She looked him in the eye, saw the edge he balanced on, and felt the thrill of teetering on that same edge herself. And wondered how she’d ever believed they could be anywhere else for their first time. “Here.”

His muscles didn’t frighten her, not when she felt him quivering at her touch. She ran her hands over arms straining with the effort to keep some of his weight off her. The pad of one foot stroked up and down the back of his thigh muscle, caressing as it prevented him from moving away. Then she loosened his shorts and closed a hand around him.

He’d never been stronger than when he sucked in a deep breath at her first touch. His eyes closed and his head fell back. A primitive male satisfaction rumbled in his throat as she continued to stroke the length of him, as he grew impossibly harder in her grasp.

He drew in a deep breath and looked down at her. “I’m sorry, Candace,” he whispered and she felt her heart stutter when he gripped her wrist and removed her hand from him.

Afraid he meant to stop, she opened her mouth to protest. Instead, she felt the glory and gasped out a shocked cry when he entered her in one hard plunge.

There could have been pain, so forcefully did he thrust within her, so fully did he fill her. But there was only the uncompromising joy that came from the man she loved wanting her with a desire strong enough to override reason or caution.

She responded with another helpless spiral, her senses exploding with color and light. She saw the concentration on his face, felt the intensity of his gaze as he looked at her, as he thrust again and again. How could any woman, especially a woman who loved him as much as she did, be anything less than thrilled and delighted by the way he kept his own release at bay in order to further please her?

Her lips curved as her legs locked around his waist. Her heart sang as her body erupted.

No woman before her had ever taken him in so deeply. Nor wrapped around him so tightly. And still Neal wanted more.

She quivered in his arms. And around him. Her gaze met his.

As she again began to shatter, in that wonderfully feminine way, Neal admitted he wanted, needed one more thing. To share this with her.

He might someday face having to watch her walk away, but for now she was his. For now they would be joined as completely as possible.

He cupped her chin in his hand, held her face still. For an instant he saw her brown eyes cloud with question, then go dark and seductive as he lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips touched, their breaths mingled.

They climaxed together.

When his heart finally slowed, when the rush of the physical demand eased, Neal battled against a returning sense of guilt. For the rest of his life he would recall that one brief instant, that one tiny cry of pain, when he’d slammed into her.

He’d been a fool to believe, even for a few glorious moments, he had the right to indulge his desire for her. He wished it were easy to place the blame on her shoulders, wished he could ease his conscience by rationalizing she’d all but pushed him into taking her.

None of that diminished the fact that he’d treated her carelessly by taking her on the kitchen table.

“Candace, are you all right?”

“Hmmm.”

At the silence that followed her one murmur he had no choice but to lift his head and chance a glance at her. The vague curve of her lips had him growing hard where he remained within her.

She looked glorious beneath him. Her hair spilled like chocolate fudge on the table, her nipples were still peaked and rosy from his mouth, her cheeks were flushed and a tiny bead of sweat dotted her top lip.

She looked like a woman well loved. And happy about it.

Candace sighed. She found it remarkable she felt no embarrassment about either her surroundings or her exposure. She suspected the explanation rested on the lingering sense of what she’d just shared with Neal. And with the fact that she was still intimately joined with the man she loved.

After all, he had already explored every inch of skin, and touched the deepest emotional places within her. Not to mention the fact she had waited far, far too long for this moment to hide anything more from him now.

Perhaps the surroundings or the events that led to tonight were not as she had always pictured, but she could never regret the way he made her feel. The way he felt in her embrace.

She didn’t have to look at him to know he was worried. About her as much as by the fact they had just made fast and furious love on the kitchen table. For that very reason she felt absurdly proud. Neal had wanted her badly enough to ignore convention and caution.

“You wanted me,” she said, her blood still singing with the thrill.

Her heart jumped in surprise when, to her complete and utter delight, he actually chuckled. “I think that much is obvious.”

She opened her eyes, saw the amusement shift into concern. “Are you sorry?” she whispered, fearful, lifting a hand to his cheek.

“About this? Here?” His head jerked, indicating the table. “Yes.” He lowered his mouth to hers. “About us, no.” Candace felt the burn of tears at the tenderness with which he kissed her.

“I’m only sorry I didn’t use more care or control.” He cast another glance at their surroundings. “You deserve better than this, Candace.”

He straightened his back, obviously intending to step away. She stopped him by tightening her legs around his waist. Before he could protest, she arched up to link her arms around his neck.

If she let him walk away now, let him feel ashamed of his need for her, let him worry about the way he believed he’d treated her, she knew she would lose him forever.

True they came from differing backgrounds, both economic and social. Still they had formed a foundation of respect and friendship. Now they had added in the familiarity and sharing that came with physical intimacy. Whatever manner, speed, or setting that held the power of promising them a future together was not something to be denied or regretted. It was something to be enjoyed and celebrated. As often as possible.

“Do you want me again?” she asked, though she knew, intimately, his answer.

“That’s not the point. After what you went through with—”

“Precisely. I’ve never known how it felt to be wanted like this. I’ve never wanted anyone as deeply, as strongly, as I do you.” She angled her chin. “Do you want me again, Neal?”

He hesitated. “I hate to repeat myself,” he finally admitted. “But I think that’s obvious.”

“Then, I’m sorry.” She pressed her mouth to his, felt his hands grip her hips. Her body arched with the fresh need that flared within her. Her heart sang as it raced to keep in step with her love. “But it’s going to be here again.”

****

By all rights he should be in bed asleep. At the very least he should be exhausted and his mind numb. When a man had only three hours of sleep, after several hours of physically draining love-making behind him, he should be nothing more than a lump of spent muscle. Instead Neal had risen feeling energized and impatient.

He’d thought to use the time making play charts, perhaps going over the schedule for the upcoming fall practice. Instead he’d spent most of the time sitting at his kitchen table, staring out the dark window.

Remembering.

He and Candace had finally made it to her bed. Neal chuckled into the quiet of his kitchen. After they’d consumed the better portion of the brownies she’d baked before his arrival. It had seemed so natural to stand there in her kitchen, both of them buck naked, and talk. Just as they’d continued to talk once they went to her bedroom.

She had surprised him yet again. He’d expected an heirloom bed in cherry or hand rubbed oak from the Hart estate. Instead she’d opted for an intricate design in soft gray iron, one she’d found in Italy. She’d woven a silk fabric through the headboard, just enough to add a feminine touch without subtracting from the substance of the iron. Neal had the fanciful notion the bed represented both the strength and softness of Candace’s personality.

It had been harder than he wanted to admit to leave her. She hadn’t asked him to stay; she’d simply accepted his decision. It would have been easier if she’d protested or made demands. Then he could have resented her, comforted himself with the thought she was simply a spoiled brat used to getting her way. Instead, at the back door to her home, she’d kissed him and whispered for him to be careful going home.

So, where did they go from here? Neither of them had introduced the subject last night. Neal supposed things would continue much as they always had. With the side benefit of now being lovers as well as friends.

Private lovers, he vowed, in the strictest definition of the expression. He would do whatever was necessary to prevent their affair from becoming public knowledge. Since he hadn’t been able to resist the attraction he felt for her, the least he could do was to protect her reputation. And, he reluctantly admitted, safeguard his own at the same time.

Neal propped his arms on the table and buried his face in his hands. God, he was tired after all. Tired of trying to go beyond perceptions, his and everyone else’s. He was damn tired of always doing without. To hell with all the questions, the worry, the guilt, he decided with a savage pronouncement.

He had a woman, a bright sexy woman interested in him. A woman he liked as much as he desired. Why the hell shouldn’t he enjoy every minute they could find together?

The doorbell stopped him from heading to the back door. For a moment he wondered if it might be Candace. It would be just like her to make the bold move to show up on his doorstep the morning after they made love. He threw open the front door, for once not concerned about who might see them.

“Hey,” Corey said.

Neal washed his hands over his face. Though he knew it was impossible, he worried Corey could see the erotic images running through his mind. He narrowed his gaze, struggled to shift his thoughts. The kid still looked pale but his eyes were clear.

“Hey,” Neal said. “Didn’t expect you to be up so early.” He stepped back. “You want to come in?”

Corey shifted his feet but remained on the porch as he kept his gaze steady on Neal. “I can’t play ball for you, Coach.”

Neal swallowed down a sigh. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? He, of all people, should understand the emotions the boy was dealing with. “What happened last night isn’t your fault, Corey.”

“There are bills to pay,” the boy said, obviously choosing to focus on practical matters rather than the emotional ramifications of his decision. Like many in this neighborhood, life was lived from one paycheck to another with little to carry over into the next month or to be saved for emergencies. Especially when so much of that paycheck went toward tequila shooters.

“She won’t be able to work for a while. Someone has to pay the rent, buy groceries.” Corey ducked his head down a moment, the shame too strong to ignore, the shattering of a dream too painful to reveal. “I can’t do any of that if I’m playing some game.”

“What about school?”

“It’s no big deal.” Corey shrugged a shoulder, and Neal remembered the kid had excellent grades. “I’ll get the homework and stuff from someone in class and do it at night.”

“You think they’ll let you skip that many classes?”

“Then I’ll quit if I have to. What else can I do? I’m all she’s got.”

“I’ll give you a loan.” Corey’s head jerked up, the denial in his eyes and in the stiff set of his shoulders. “A loan,” Neal repeated. His mind was already calculating the margin between what he had in the bank and what would be needed for Corey and his mother to live on for two, maybe three months.

“You’ll work your butt off,” Neal told him. There would be a few conditions for Corey’s mother as well.

“In the classroom, on the field, and at the nursery once the season is over.” Neal managed a grim smile. “Hell, I’m even going to find some stuff around this place for you to do.”

“Coach, I—”

“Fourth down and short yardage, Corey. What do you want to do? Punt the ball away or go for the touchdown? You call the play.”

****

As was the case at so many other times in his life, Neal hated what he was doing even as he accepted the necessity. Keeping to side and back streets, he made his way to Candace’s house.

He parked a few blocks away, behind another truck in front of a home under construction. Most of the neighborhood appeared to be at work although he heard the distant hum of a lawnmower. Deciding on the back door, he circled around the side of her house. And stopped in his tracks.

Her back was to him. She wore a short, grass-green skirt with a simple white short-sleeve blouse. From hem to canvas flats, her long legs were bare; legs that had been wrapped so securely around him just a few hours earlier.

Standing beside Candace, dressed in a matronly suit of dark navy with coordinating shoes was Anita Hart.

Neal took a step in retreat, froze when he heard a dog yap.

Both women turned in his direction. Candace’s gaze shifted from him to her grandmother, then back to him.

“Good morning, Neal,” she finally said, her voice calm but neutral, worlds away from the stunning passion in her voice as they’d made love. “I was just showing Grandmother where I was thinking of building a tiered garden at this end of the patio.”

Neal tried not to be offended by her polite and careful greeting. After all, wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? For them to act as if all the intimate and seductive ways they’d touched and tasted one another had remained in the realm of fantasy rather than reality? Then why the hell did it grate on his nerves when she did so?

Anita uttered a single command for the dog to be quiet. Not surprisingly the dog obeyed.

In danger of stammering, Neal swallowed. “In fact, that’s exactly why I came by. Remember?” He took a step forward, well aware Anita had yet to speak to him. “I promised I would come by and take some measurements for you.” He moved his gaze away from Candace. “Good morning, Mrs. Hart.”

“Mr. Barrows.”

“Candace mentioned her idea to me about the garden, and I suggested a few of the boys from my team could do the work for her.” He shrugged a shoulder, pleased with his quick idea. Not only would it explain his sudden arrival, but it was actually a viable concept. “Moving landscape timbers and shoveling soil are another method of conditioning and weight lifting while it promotes teamwork. The money Candace is willing to pay for the work will go into the Booster fund. You know, to support team meals before games, snacks and drinks afterward, that sort of thing.”

“Yes, of course.”

Her stern lips curved ever so slightly. Neal had the sensation Anita Hart wasn’t the slightest bit fooled by his explanation. “Tell me, Mr. Barrows, just how did you plan to do any of the necessary calculations without a tape measure?”

“Oh.” Neal glanced down at his empty hands. “Well,” he continued, looking back up in time to see the rosy blush bloom on Candace’s cheeks. And lust strike painfully in his gut. She’d had much the same color on her face as she climaxed around him.

“That’s why I came around back. Candace said she would leave one on the patio for me. Along with some paper and pencil.” He made the pretense of glancing at the table. “I guess I got here before she could set them out.”

“I guess you did. Candace, why don’t you go on inside and collect the items Mr. Barrows requires?”

“Sure.” Candace linked her hands together, then dropped them to her sides. “Wouldn’t you rather come inside, Grandmother? Where it’s cooler?”

“I’m fine, thank you, dear.”

Candace shot a nervous glance at Neal and her grandmother, but did as she’d been instructed.

Neal crouched down and snapped his fingers. The dog ran to him, immediately turning over onto his back, inviting a belly rub. “Cute dog.”

“Candace gave him to me.” Neal looked up at the affection in the woman’s voice. “She’s worried about me being alone.”

Neal slowly stood. The dog trotted back to sit beside Anita. “Not exactly a pedigree, is he?”

“No, but he does have an unexpectedly large heart,” Anita said. “I never realized you spent so much time with the boys on your team away from the playing field,” Anita commented.

“Most of these boys don’t have a good male influence in their lives.”

“As you did not.”

Neal met the older woman’s steady gaze, thought of Corey. “Yes.”

“I wish I had known this when Bradley Reynolds called and asked for my opinion before he offered you the coaching position at the Academy. I would have given you an even stronger recommendation.”

Linemen had tackled him with less strength than the shock that slammed into him now. Still, he was too familiar with Anita Hart’s methods to be anything less than wary.

She glanced down at the pup resting his head on top of her right shoe. “For some the heritage of a good name is harder to overcome than the shadow of a bad reputation.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“I believe you do.” Anita looked at him with the authoritative manner of a woman accustomed to others listening to and agreeing with her opinions. “It simply remains to be seen whether or not you recognize the difference between stubbornness and pride.”

“Are we talking about Candace or me?”

“Both of you.” Anita glanced toward the house. “She had an unsettling incident a few weeks ago.”

“The shortage in her back account.”

Anita stared at him. “Yes. I have no proof yet, but I have my suspicions that Anthony is involved.”

“Would this have anything to do with his gambling debts?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Why didn’t Candace know about those?”

“I thought it best to protect her.”

“She’s stronger than you give her credit for being.” His smile was tentative. “After all, she’s just like you.”

“And yourself, Mr. Barrows? Do you give her credit for being strong?”

Before he could speak, Candace walked out and placed a tray with a teapot on the wrought iron table.

“I’m sorry, Candace,” Anita said, still staring at Neal. “But I really should leave and take Beaumont home before I head into the office. I’ll see you there later today.”

“Oh.” Candace glanced at Neal, then back as her grandmother stopped beside her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Don’t bother.” Anita leaned over to kiss her granddaughter’s cheek. She looked back at Neal. “Mr. Barrows, are you aware Ben and Tara are due back later this week?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m having a welcome home dinner for the family on the evening after their return. It would add to the celebration if you would join us.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hart.”

Neal said nothing as Candace ignored her grandmother’s directive and walked Anita into the house. He remained still, questioning once again if he’d made a mistake coming here.

“How’s Corey?” Candace asked as soon as she returned.

And how like her to ask. Still, Neal thought of the stop he’d made before coming here, the cold gleam in Renee Watson’s eyes when Neal made his offer. All she’d heard was Neal’s proposition of money, not the chance it would give Corey.

While Candace was great with the kids at the youth center, she had no concept of the kind of greed and selfishness that accounted for Renee Watson’s agreement to his terms. The same as had been the leading factor in all of his mother’s decisions.

“He’ll be okay,” Neal said.

“He’s lucky to have you.”

“I wanted to see you,” he suddenly declared, fiercely, almost defiantly.

It was more than simply sex. Granted this whole situation between them started because of the chance of a threat to her. Anita Hart’s suspicions supported him keeping an eye on Candace. The reality was he was here, as he’d been last night, because no one had ever stood by him the way she did.

“I’m glad.” She reached out a hand, kept her eyes on his as she waited. His hand closed around hers.

“I want you, Candace. Again.”

Her lips curved as she stepped closer and slid her free hand up his chest. Pressed her body against his.

“Neal, you have me. Always.”