Nudging her toward him with a palm on her back, Whit drew her nipple into his mouth, creating a flow of damp heat that settled in a place Mallory had ignored far too long. Every stroke of his tongue, every pull of his lips, seduced her into total oblivion. She immersed herself in the sensations. s.e.xual, sublime, unrepressed.

Mallory squirmed in his lap until she thought she might go totally over the edge. He halted her movement with his hands braced on her hips and the low command, "Stop or this is going to be over before we really get started."

"Whit, I need..." Her broken respiration and shattered thoughts prevented her from voicing that need, but she soon realized the lack of necessity in telling him. Whit established he knew exactly what she needed and where, when he pulled her skirt up until it was nothing more than a wrinkled tube of denim below her waist, leaving her completely open to his eyes and his hands. This time he didn't tell her what he intended to do. He simply did it, sliding his callused palms up her bare thighs and joining them between her legs. He used his thumbs like feathers, parting her flesh, stroking and stoking more fire, more dampness, more absolute sensation. Mallory could only watch in total disbelief, experience the building pressure in mute wonder when he slipped a finger inside her. The momentary urge to resist came over her, but when Whit whispered, "Don't think, Mallory, just feel," he forced that urge away.

He had totally captured her thoughts, her whole being with his tempered caress and his intense gaze that he kept leveled on her eyes. She couldn't control her pounding heart or the unrelenting tremble. Couldn't control her own body's demands even though she fought the release, but not for the same reasons she'd fought it in the past. She'd waited so long, wanted this so badly, she needed it to go on forever. Needed to savor each and every impression. But forever wasn't possible, especially when Whit quickened the pace, urging her toward a state of total mindlessness.

The sudden onslaught of spasms. .h.i.t her in strong, steady waves, stealing her breath and encouraging a soft moan from her mouth. Aside from that and the pulse pounding in her ears, all other sound seemed to disappear. Everything seemed to disappear around her, except for Whit's whispered words of praise. Whit's soft, satisfied smile that slowly came into focus. Whit's beautiful dark eyes that seemed to look right through her. And finally she knew how it felt to be a truly sensual being, capable of experiencing the ultimate pleasure at the hands of the ultimate man.

Totally wasted, Mallory collapsed against his chest, gasping for breath and very sorry that it had been over so soon, yet thrilled that it had finally happened for her. Better still, she knew it wouldn't be the last time she would feel this way, at least not for several nights. Now she felt like a kid with a new toy.

Whit held her closely against his heart and rubbed her back beneath the blouse. "I told you there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing wrong with you, didn't I?"

Mallory couldn't help but tease him a little. She lifted her head and smiled. "How do you know I wasn't faking it?"

"Because I felt you, babe. That was one h.e.l.l of a big O."

She shivered for about the hundredth time tonight. "I guess that's what happens when you've waited as long as I have to have one."

"And it's not going to be the last tonight. As soon as we get home and in bed, we're going to do it all over again."

Mallory wasn't ready to go home, and she didn't want a bed. She wanted Whit now. All of him. Every divine inch of him.

On a heady rush of adrenaline, she straightened and attacked his belt, this time with more dexterity than she had with her own b.u.t.tons. Whit caught her wrist and asked, "What are you doing?" but his query or his grip did not prevent her from continuing toward her goal.

After she released the lone b.u.t.ton on his fly, she glanced up at him. "We're going to make a baby."He frowned. "Here?"Slowly she lowered his zipper. "Yes, here.""You don't want to wait until we have a bed at our disposal?""Bed's are entirely overrated.""But-"She placed a fingertip to his lips. "You promised, Whit. Anything I ask, and I'm asking you-no, telling you-to take off your pants or I will."His ensuing smile was just too wicked for words. "This is your idea. You take them off."Not an easy feat, Mallory thought, and then decided they didn't have to come all the way off. Aided by Whit raising his hips, she gave the jeans a tug, bent her head to avoid the car's ceiling and went up onto her knees. With some tricky maneuvering, she managed to push them down his thighs to the top of his knees. Now the boxers she'd purchased-navy silk boxers-were the only thing standing in the way of her goal. Speaking of standing...She could only stare at the prominent bulge, knowing in a matter of moments she would view a part of Whit she had never viewed before. Better still, she would soon know that part of him intimately.

When she failed to move, Whit tucked his thumbs into the waistband. "Are you ready?"

Was she? "Sure."

He seemed to be just fine with doing the honors, and what an honor it was when he had the boxers

pushed down to where she sat on his thighs. He was completely aroused and totally impressive. Granted, she had little to compare him to, but she knew enough to know he was anything but lacking in the size department.

Her face aflame to match her body, Mallory looked up to see Whit's grin had definitely deepened. "Are you ready for a little more pleasure?"

"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine."

"Not yet, but it will be." Bracing one hand on her hip, he guided her forward and up. Mallory felt the nudge of his erection and held her breath. He hesitated for a moment, still studying her eyes with surprising intensity, before he said, "Here's to making our baby."

He lowered her down gently while lifting his hips at the same time, meeting some resistance when her muscles protested the invasion. But what a sweet invasion it was, even though Whit looked worried.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, his voice low and grainy.

To prove that he wasn't hurting her at all, Mallory took him deeper inside. His breath hissed out of his clenched teeth and he closed his eyes.

She pushed a wayward lock of hair from his damp forehead. "Am I hurting you?"

"Not in the least." He opened his eyes and managed a strained smile. "I've just never done this without a raincoat. It feels d.a.m.n good."

Mallory released a nervous laugh. "I've never done this at all. At least not in a car, and never in this position. I kind of like being on top."

"I kind of like you being on top."

She nipped at his lip and soothed it with her tongue. "I hope you like all of it."

He thrust his hips up again, seating himself completely inside her. "Do you like all of it?"

"Oh, yes, I do."

After she delivered a deep, driving kiss to ill.u.s.trate how much she liked it, Mallory allowed instinct to take over, moving in an erotic dance, slow and sultry at first, then faster and harder and wilder with Whit' s verbal encouragement.

She reveled in the excitement of watching a gorgeous man in the throes of lovemaking, something she'd never witnessed before. She took in all the little details-the perspiration beading on his forehead, the tautness in his jaw, the fire in his eyes. She could see the outline of the veins in his neck, the muscles tensing in his chest as she laid her palm on his pounding heart. And when he tightened his hold on her hips and a mild curse slipped out between his parted lips, she experienced the utmost pleasure in her newfound empowerment, knowing she had been capable of sending him to this incredible place, just as he had with her. She also recognized that she could never have done this with anyone other than Whit. No one.

She felt the pulse of his climax and saw the surrender in his eyes before he closed them tightly. "Mallory," slipped out of his lips as a whisper, sounding a lot like a tribute, or at least that's what Mallory hoped. He slid his hands in her hair then brought her down against his chest, holding her tightly. His breath was harsh but his touch was so gentle as he stroked her hair, then moved his palm to her bare bottom and stroked her there, too.

For the longest of moments they stayed that way, silent, satisfied, connected in a way they'd never been connected before, and not only in a physical sense. Mallory couldn't remember when she'd felt so content, or so ready to repeat the process as soon as possible. Easy. Never. Jerry had rarely held her after lovemaking. He'd never touched her the way Whit had. She didn't really know if it had been total ignorance on his part or a total lack of regard for her needs. They'd been too young and not nearly enough in love. But that was in the past, and tonight she planned to bury old recriminations once and for all in Whit's strong arms.

"You're right, O'Brien, beds are overrated," Whit said, interrupting the quiet.

"Told you so," she answered while tracing the path of his collarbone with a fingertip.

"This is great. Except for the leg cramps. Guess I should've stretched before we did this."

She lifted her head and gave him an apologetic look. "I'll move over."

He nudged her back down against his chest. "Let's just wait a few more moments to make sure it took."

"What are the chances of that happening the first time?"

"Considering how long you made me wait, probably pretty good. I think I've built up enough sperm to fertilize all of Harris County."

She laughed again. Cla.s.sic Whit. "I really do hope we-" "Be quiet a minute," he said. "Do you hear it?"

Mallory strained to listen but couldn't hear anything aside from the distant sounds of traffic and the occasional hum of a locust. "What?"

"Voices."

Mallory raised her head again and stared at him. "You're imagining things."

He inclined his head and narrowed his eyes, then grinned. "They're coming around the turn in the first annual Sperm Derby, with Betsy our current leader but Bruno closing in on her tail. Betsy's a sure bet to have enough stamina to last the quarter mile, but Bruno's faster and threatening to take the lead as they approach the finishing egg-"

She slapped his arm, hard. "Bruno and Betsy?"

He looked incensed. "What's wrong with Bruno Manning? He could be a defensive lineman."

"I was on top, so that's Betsy O'Brien-Manning, buster."

"Hyphenating works for me, but do we have to add buster to the end?"

Mallory laughed again. She simply couldn't help it. "Leave it to you to make the whole conception process into a sporting event."

He framed her face in his palms, his expression suddenly somber. "I'd gladly exchange watching horse racing or my favorite teams for more of this with you."

A tiny little tug at her heart, a soft whispered warning in her head, and Mallory realized how close she was to traveling down a path she didn't dare take. "I think maybe we should consider going home now, before you can't walk in the morning."

He kissed her quickly. "Good idea. But like I told you when you first imposed that three-day waiting period, I haven't been walking all that great anyway."

Mallory gave him a smile, moved off his lap and was struck with an unexpected bout of melancholy. Hormones. That had to be it. She always got a little crazy around ovulation time, and that was a very good sign. At least she could now a.s.sume she was ovulating. Of course, she could have gotten a predictor kit to know for sure. She could have taken her temperature and kept some charts. But in this instance, she preferred to leave it all up to chance, because if she discovered conditions were poor to conceive, she truly wasn't sure she could handle the news. At least not yet.

Mallory tugged down her skirt and retrieved her bra, opting to put it back on in order to walk past the building's parking attendant with some dignity once they arrived home. She left the thong in the back seat because she was just too tired to worry about that at the moment. Feeling somewhat more presentable, she glanced at Whit to find he still hadn't moved himself or the seat. He had pulled the boxers into place, but his jeans remained at his thighs and his chest was still bare. Even in his disheveled state, he radiated raw s.e.x appeal, and Mallory had a good mind-what was left of her mind-to strip and climb back onboard the love train. But since it was getting late, and they still had to work tomorrow, she decided it might be the better part of valor to encourage him to take them home.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked as she snapped her seat belt into place.

"My circulation to return," he said without looking at her. "I didn't realize certain parts could actually go that numb, but I guess-" He straightened and inclined his head as he had a few moments before. "Do you hear that?"

Mallory rolled her eyes, the gesture totally lost on Whit since he'd turned his attention to the rearview mirror. "Don't tell me. Bruno just made it to the egg."

"Oh, h.e.l.l."

Mallory jerked around to look behind her and saw a shadowy figure striding toward the car. Whit yanked up his jeans and zipper and practically climbed over the seat to grab up his shirt, but he didn't get it on before a beam of light shone inside the window, landing right on the discarded thong.

Mallory closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the seat while Whit muttered a string of curses before saying, "What can I do for you, officer?"

"Both of you please exit the car and keep your hands in full view."

"Whit Manning, I can't believe you found that so amusing."

Yeah, Whit found the whole thing pretty d.a.m.n funny and ironic. He'd been parking on more than one occasion during his formative years, but he'd waited until he was thirty-three to finally get caught. But he didn't find Mallory's sudden aloofness funny at all. She was backed up against the elevator wall while they traveled the nine floors to their apartment, and she'd clung to the car's door handle on their journey back from the park.

"No real harm done, Mallory," he said. "They were park security, not city cops. Now if they'd arrived about ten minutes earlier, that might have been a little harder to explain."

"Explain? I had to explain that I wasn't a hooker."

Whit stifled his own laugh for fear she might come across the elevator car and slug him. "Exactly how did you answer that?"

"Simple. I gave him my driver's license and my business card. When he saw I was an attorney, he was very polite."

"See? Your reputation is still intact." This time, Whit couldn't stop his chuckle. "At least you didn't have to endure the first guy's comments about how I was too old to be fooling around in a car. I told him it wasn't my idea."

Mallory's eyes widened. "You didn't!"

"I'm kidding. But if I recall, it wasn't my idea."

She lowered her eyes. "That's true, but I didn't know we were going to be reprimanded like a couple of h.o.r.n.y teenagers."

"We were acting like a couple of h.o.r.n.y teenagers." Unable to stand being so far from her, Whit crossed the elevator and braced a hand above her head. "And enjoying it, I might add. At least I enjoyed it, and I 'm pretty sure you did, too."

The bell sounded and the doors sighed open, announcing their arrival. Mallory didn't hesitate to duck under his arm and rush out. Whit realized he had a real battle on his hands tonight-convincing Mallory that what they'd done hadn't been so terrible. In his opinion, it had been great. Better than great. And he

wanted to do it again.

In the corridor, he followed behind Mallory, who strode at a fast clip to the door. She fumbled with her key, forcing Whit to take it from her, otherwise they might be standing in the hallway for an interminable amount of time. What he had planned to improve her mood wouldn't work in the hallway. Okay, it would work, but they would risk getting caught in a compromising position twice in one night. And that might be the last time she would let him touch her.

In the foyer, Whit tossed his keys onto the entry table and Mallory did the same with her purse. Theexact routine they followed every night, yet tonight was different. They'd shared more than dinner, morethan their favorite TV show. What they had done was still lingering in Whit's mind and affecting his body.He should be totally satisfied and completely exhausted. Instead, he wanted her all over again.

"I'm going to take a shower and go to bed," Mallory said, destroying Whit's hope of a repeat

performance, at least tonight.

But he wasn't going to let her get away that quickly. "After your shower, meet me in the den. We need to talk."

She started slipping the b.u.t.tons on her blouse. "Can't we just talk in the morning? It's getting late.""No, we can't. We need to clear a few things up.""There's nothing to clear up. We did it, and it was fine.""Fine?" That really ticked him off. "It was only fine?"The phone started ringing, interrupting Whit's tirade before he had a chance to get started. "I'll get it," he said as he headed down the hall then turned and walked backward, facing her. "But we're not finished with this yet."

Once in the bedroom, he yanked the phone from its charger and spewed an irritable, "Yeah."

"Are you planning to get my sister pregnant?"

Logan. d.a.m.n. Couldn't he have at least waited until morning? "What gave you that idea?" More like who.

"Dr. Grote said Mallory wants to get pregnant."