indescribable?
Her teeth sank into his shoulder and her legs tightened violently around his rough thighs as the coiling passion in her lower body threatened to burst forth.
"Yale? Yale!" It was a plea. For what, she didn't know.
"Let yourself go, my darling," he whispered ur-gendy . "I'll take care of you. Just let go...."
Unable and unwilling to resist the demand in him, Dara gasped, reacting unbelievably to an unexpectedly swift and erotic movement of his lean frame. It seemed to send her over the brink of a heretofore unseen cliff and she plunged into the chasm below, free-falling toward a velvet green earth, Yale's name on her lips.
As if he had only been waiting for the turbulent shudder which suddenly racked Dara as she lay beneath him, Yale cried out harshly. She felt the primitive convulsion take him completely in its power, giving him to her in an astonishing and fundamental way.
Willingly, joyously, Dara accepted the gift, clinging and clinging as together they plunged into the soft valley below. He was with her in that moment, sharing the ultimate sensation which can be created between a man and a woman, and for Dara , that was all that counted. The future must be dealt with later.
Four
Languidly Dara attempted to move her foot, found it rapped beneath a heavy male leg and finally emerged completely from the sensual lethargy in which she had been drifting.
Her fingertips brushed a masculine chest and her soft gray-green eyes fluttered open to find a lazy pair of hazel ones watching her.
For an instant of silent communication, neither said anything, the recent memories mirrored in their eyes.
"I thought you were never going to wake up, sleepyhead," Yale finally murmured, his voice a deep dragon's purr in his chest. "It 's been daylight for nearly an hour."
"You 're in a hurry to go someplace?" Dara drawled, her mouth curving lovingly.
"Well, it did occur to me that there might be more interesting places to spend the weekend than this truck-stop motel!"
With a sexy, inviting grin, Yale rolled onto his back and reached out to haul her across his chest. It was as she came free of the sheet that Dara realized the green dress was no longer around.
The color rose in her cheeks as her breasts were crushed softly against him. She saw his eyes follow the outline of her, a look of satiated pleasure in the hazel depths.
"You drove me wild last night," he rumbled, raking his fingers through the tangled wings of her deep russet hair. "You're a dangerous lady, Dara Bancroft. Very dangerous."
She smiled delightedly, toying with the curling hair beneath her hand as she met his gaze. She was in love! She could hardly believe it. How could it have happened like this after all these years?
"I plead innocent," she whispered laughingly. "You're the one who carried me off into the night. If we'd done things my way we would have danced a few dances at that nice nightclub I took you to and then gone home very properly to our own beds!"
"Never!" he vowed fervently. "I wanted you from the moment I met you. Whatever happened last night, we would never have awakened alone."
"Hah! I don't think you wanted me all that badly at first. As I recall, you were rather annoyed with me at times!" Deliberately she made a joke of it, wishing he could have used the word she wanted to use. He must feel something more than desire for her after what they had shared. How could a man make love like that and not be at least a little in love?
"Being annoyed with you didn't change my desire to take you to bed." He chuckled, framing her face with his hands. Dara felt the strength in the gentle grip and shivered with pleasure. "I don't think anything could change that!"
"No?" she dared lightly, eyes warm with her love and laughter and the freshness of what she had discovered.
"No," he agreed solemnly. "Rest assured, my sweet. The account is yours."
Dara blinked, certain she had heard wrong.
"What?" Firmly she kept her
Her teeth sank into his shoulder and her legs tightened violently around his rough thighs as the coiling passion in her lower body threatened to burst forth.
"Yale? Yale!" It was a plea. For what, she didn't know.
"Let yourself go, my darling," he whispered ur-gendy . "I'll take care of you. Just let go...."
Unable and unwilling to resist the demand in him, Dara gasped, reacting unbelievably to an unexpectedly swift and erotic movement of his lean frame. It seemed to send her over the brink of a heretofore unseen cliff and she plunged into the chasm below, free-falling toward a velvet green earth, Yale's name on her lips.
As if he had only been waiting for the turbulent shudder which suddenly racked Dara as she lay beneath him, Yale cried out harshly. She felt the primitive convulsion take him completely in its power, giving him to her in an astonishing and fundamental way.
Willingly, joyously, Dara accepted the gift, clinging and clinging as together they plunged into the soft valley below. He was with her in that moment, sharing the ultimate sensation which can be created between a man and a woman, and for Dara , that was all that counted. The future must be dealt with later.
Four
Languidly Dara attempted to move her foot, found it rapped beneath a heavy male leg and finally emerged completely from the sensual lethargy in which she had been drifting.
Her fingertips brushed a masculine chest and her soft gray-green eyes fluttered open to find a lazy pair of hazel ones watching her.
For an instant of silent communication, neither said anything, the recent memories mirrored in their eyes.
"I thought you were never going to wake up, sleepyhead," Yale finally murmured, his voice a deep dragon's purr in his chest. "It 's been daylight for nearly an hour."
"You 're in a hurry to go someplace?" Dara drawled, her mouth curving lovingly.
"Well, it did occur to me that there might be more interesting places to spend the weekend than this truck-stop motel!"
With a sexy, inviting grin, Yale rolled onto his back and reached out to haul her across his chest. It was as she came free of the sheet that Dara realized the green dress was no longer around.
The color rose in her cheeks as her breasts were crushed softly against him. She saw his eyes follow the outline of her, a look of satiated pleasure in the hazel depths.
"You drove me wild last night," he rumbled, raking his fingers through the tangled wings of her deep russet hair. "You're a dangerous lady, Dara Bancroft. Very dangerous."
She smiled delightedly, toying with the curling hair beneath her hand as she met his gaze. She was in love! She could hardly believe it. How could it have happened like this after all these years?
"I plead innocent," she whispered laughingly. "You're the one who carried me off into the night. If we'd done things my way we would have danced a few dances at that nice nightclub I took you to and then gone home very properly to our own beds!"
"Never!" he vowed fervently. "I wanted you from the moment I met you. Whatever happened last night, we would never have awakened alone."
"Hah! I don't think you wanted me all that badly at first. As I recall, you were rather annoyed with me at times!" Deliberately she made a joke of it, wishing he could have used the word she wanted to use. He must feel something more than desire for her after what they had shared. How could a man make love like that and not be at least a little in love?
"Being annoyed with you didn't change my desire to take you to bed." He chuckled, framing her face with his hands. Dara felt the strength in the gentle grip and shivered with pleasure. "I don't think anything could change that!"
"No?" she dared lightly, eyes warm with her love and laughter and the freshness of what she had discovered.
"No," he agreed solemnly. "Rest assured, my sweet. The account is yours."
Dara blinked, certain she had heard wrong.
"What?" Firmly she kept her
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