Page 44 of Cutter’s Lady

“You worship her from afar. She’s perfectly safe for you to love because you know you’ll never have her.”

“You’re just full of neat little labels. Nice pop-psychology explanations that have nothing to do with reality. But you don’t know the first thing about life. Or about me.” Cutter puller her slowly, inexorably closer, while he continued to speak in a low, mesmerizing voice. “I’m close to Mary; she’s my friend. Once she even saved my life. I owe her. But I don’t want her as a woman. I’m not looking for a saint in my bed.” His mouth was only inches from Leslie’s, his pale green eyes boring into her, robbing her of will and reason. “I want flesh and blood in my bed. A woman who sins and screams and feels. And wants.”

His other hand came up and sank into the loose knot of hair at the base of her neck, and he moved those last two inches. His lips touched hers, rolling gently against her, settling in. He tasted her leisurely, exploring her sweetness without hurry. His tongue teased along the line between her lips, and Leslie found herself melting, opening to him. She felt the pressure of his teeth behind his lips, the teasing exploration of his tongue. His mouth tasted of coffee, warm and mellow, mingling subtly with the sweet juice of the papaya he’d eaten for breakfast. Leslie felt breathless and eager; Cutter stirred her in a way no other man ever had. She wanted him. Even her jealousy and anger of a moment before were swept away by the sudden, pulsing desire.

She slipped her arms around Cutter’s neck and buried her fingers in his thick hair. His kiss deepened, and the hand which had held her arm left to curl around her and press her up into his flat, hard body. His fingers at the base of her skull began softly to massage the tender flesh on either side of her neck, soothing and arousing her at the same time. Leslie’s knees began to give way, and she clung to him even more tightly, her feminine curves pressing into his muscled flesh, fitting herself to him in a way that made him throb.

Cutter left her mouth to nuzzle at her ear and string sizzling kisses along her jawline and down her throat. Leslie’s head fell back, and he found the fragile hollow of her throat, teasing it with his tongue. His hands slid down her body and lifted her up into him, pressing his hard length into her. Leslie moved her hips against him, and Cutter groaned, breaking his exploration of her throat to seize her lips again. His breath came in hard, fast pants against her skin. His fingers dug into her ass, rubbing her against the thick ridge of his desire.

Almost frantically he pressed her closer to him. His hand moved up under her top, skimming along her back and slipping around to caress her breasts. Leslie shifted against him, turning slightly sideways to give him freer access. His hand curled over one breast, taking in its soft roundness through her bra. He savored the sensations, rubbing the sensitive pads of his fingers over the patterned lace, tracing her nipple, enjoying the way it responded to his touch. Leslie was wrapped in flame, and everywhere his hand strayed, her body sparked to life beneath it.

Her hands roamed across his shoulders and arms, digging into the cloth of his shirt, seeking the skin beneath. His leg moved in between hers, and she bent one knee to slide her leg restlessly up and down his. An ache blossomed between Leslie’s thighs; she was empty and yearning, and she twisted against Cutter, begging him to satisfy her without speaking a word.

He turned and lifted her, his mouth still locked to hers, and moved with her to the edge of his bed. He eased Leslie down onto the bare mattress, his long, lean body sinking into hers, trapping her in the heat of their mutual hunger.

He broke the kiss finally and sat back on his heels to pull her shirt over her head. He unsnapped the front clasp of her bra and pushed the sides away from her satin-smooth breasts. Leslie’s pinkish nipples pointed, inviting his touch. Cutter’s face was flushed, his eyes glittering. His chest rose and fell heavily with his breathing, and a thin line of sweat stained the center of his shirt. His collar was open and Leslie could see the sheen of his skin.

He moved his hands up and covered her breasts, and his thumbs circled her delicate nipples. Cutter’s eyelids fluttered almost closed in pure sensual pleasure. Leslie sucked in her breath, on fire at the touch of his callused fingers. She ran her hands up his arms, reveling in the firm muscle and the prickling of hair.

“When you came into the room yesterday after your bath,” Cutter murmured, his voice husky with passion, “I wanted to touch you so badly that I thought I’d die. You were all fresh and relaxed, and your jeans clung to you like a second skin. I wanted to strip off your shirt and look at you just like this. I wanted to taste you.”

He pressed his lips to the top of one breast. His tongue flicked out, creating a searing trail as he moved downward and found the hard point of her nipple. Leslie groaned out his name; her nails digging into his arms. Cutter’s mouth was hot, but his tongue was a thing of fire. It scorched her, lashing, then soothing, her swollen nipple. Involuntarily Leslie twisted, raising her hips from the bed and pressing firmly into his hard length. Cutter made an inarticulate noise and pulled her deeper into his mouth, sucking hungrily.

There was a rap on the door. It wasn’t loud, but it seemed thunderous in the emotionally charged hush of the room. Cutter raised his head sharply, his eyes wild. The knock came again. “What do you want?” Cutter growled.

A small voice answered in Spanish, of which Leslie understood only the words “Hermana” and “Maria.” Sister Mary Margaret. Suddenly, rudely, Leslie was back in the chill world of reality.

“Tell her, ‘Later,’” Cutter replied roughly, which brought forth a rush of words from the other side of the door. Cutter groaned. “The generator can wait.” Under his breath, he added a foul and quite impossible description of the machine.

But Leslie was already wriggling out from under him and grabbing embarrassedly for her shirt and bra. “No, please. Go ahead. Don’t let me keep you from Sister Mary Margaret.”

“Leslie, come on.” He reached for her, but she eluded him, pulling on her shirt. She wadded up the bra, clenching it in her fist, too angry and humiliated to care that she was probably ruining her La Perla. The top was on backward, but at least she was covered. She crossed her arms over her chest and retreated to the far wall of the room. Cutter sighed. “The kid says the generator blew when they hooked up the new X-ray machine. They’re eager to get started using it. If I don’t go fix it now, Larry’ll be up here in a minute with the nuns on his heels to find out what’s keeping me.”

“Of course.” Leslie struggled to appear cool and unconcerned. “Go ahead. I really didn’t mean to get into this, anyway. I’m sure the sleep will do me more good.”

He snorted. “Like hell it will.” He rolled off the bed and adjusted his clinging jeans. He pointed a forefinger at her. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Leslie shrugged and looked away. Cutter muttered a few more curses and charged out the door, almost knocking over the youngster waiting outside. Leslie waited until she heard Cutter’s boots clatter down the stairs, then slipped out of the room and across the hall. She closed the door. To her dismay she found it had no lock, but she hooked the straight-back chair beneath the knob. That would have to do. Cutter surely wouldn’t knock down the door with all these people around.

She made up her bed in record time, fueled by her anger at both Cutter and herself. Sure, Cutter wanted to sleep with her, even though most of the time he despised her. But when Sister Mary Margaret snapped her virginal fingers he was off in a second to do her bidding. And Leslie had let him see how much that upset her! Leslie fumed as she tore off her clothes and slammed them onto the floor. He cared nothing about her, at all, and she’d just proved him right in everything he’d said about her wanting him, even knowing how he felt about her! It was humiliating, the way she melted at his touch. Well, from now on she would make sure he wouldn’t get another opportunity. She wouldn’t be around him unless there were plenty of other people there, too. With that firm resolve, Leslie threw herself onto her bed and closed her eyes. But it was a long, long hour before she finally drifted off to sleep.

***

Leslie managed successfully to avoid Cutter most of the rest of the day. When she woke up in the middle of the afternoon, she carefully opened the door a slit. Her suitcase sat outside in the hall, and the door to Cutter’s room was closed. Leslie breathed a sigh of relief. He must be asleep. She pulled in her case and took out some fresh clothes, choosing, since they were in relative civilization now, a simple sundress that she had rolled up and sneaked into the bag after Cutter’s culling of her clothes. She simply had to get out of the practical jeans for a few hours, at least. Then she took the clothes, towel and soap to the bathroom down the hall and had a leisurely bath. She gathered her freshly washed hair into a French braid.

Afterward, she wandered down the stairs and out into the courtyard. There were children all over the place, playing in little clumps, running, laughing and shouting. Two women sat on the ground, watching the children while their fingers flashed in and out weaving palm fronds together. Leslie wandered aimlessly across the yard, studying the various buildings and wondering what they were used for. Sister Mary Margaret stepped out onto the porch of the structure that looked like a small residence, a stack of papers clutched in her hand. When she saw Leslie, she raised her other hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi. Did you have a good nap?” Mary swung off the porch and walked over to her.

“Yes, it was very pleasant, thank you. So was the bath.”

“Good. So… would you like to be shown around the place?”

“Yes, I’m very interested.”

“Great. Let me dump this bunch of red tape on Catherine’s desk, and I’ll take you.” She motioned for Leslie to come with her. “Might as well show you Catherine’s domain while we’re at it.”

The school area consisted of two small rooms behind the large meeting room in the dormitory. Catherine was perched on one of the child-size chairs beside a low table, boxes open around her and books stacked everywhere. She looked up at their entrance with an unself-conscious smile. “Hi! Look what Cutter brought me. I’ll never find enough space for it all.” She winked at Leslie. “I should have such problems more often.”