He kept kissing her, now with more raw tenderness. His hands were all over, cupping her breasts long enough to heighten the impetus more, then down her stomach to hold her hips. His tempo quickened. She called out. Might have yelled his name. Then his thrusts became even more powerful, faster.
“Oh, Meredith,” he moaned.
He’d said her name. Said it as though it were a prayer.
She didn’t want her heart to get involved. She knew it would end in disaster, and if her heart were involved in anyway, then it would hurt that much more. But she couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop herself. Her heart tugged under her ribs as he repeated her name between his kisses.
He was frantic then, and she pulled at his pants more, encouraging him.
“But ye...?”
She loved it when he spoke without the obvious fake American accent. That was him talking to her, the real him, asking about her.
“Are ye close?” he whispered against her neck.
Somehow the beautiful white energy had dissipated. And that, she was used to. Sexual satisfaction wasn’t exactly something she could brag about in her previous life with David. But this was different. Why the impetus had gone was because she was too fascinated watching him, feeling him.
He
was beautiful with his gray eyes darkened into a wild storm, a Nor’easter that would roar over the Massachusetts Bay. He was what had made her feel so good.
She smiled at his question. His lips so close to hers she wondered if he felt her grin. Clutching more at his backside, she whispered, “I want you to...”
He groaned then kissed her again, his thrusts somehow even more explosive.
It did feel good, having sex with him. He felt wonderful moving inside of her, but she loved watching him become unhinged, loved watching him unravel himself, reveal himself. That felt better than any orgasm she’d ever had, watching him.
Then he became spastic with his movements, with one more huge thrust he suddenly pulled out...and the beauty and magic of the dream vanished. He wasn’t coming inside her. He twitched at her back, but she no longer felt him, even though his chest was still pressed against her.
She realized then, he’d already gone. He would throw her away now.
She should be grateful he’d done what he had, pulling out like that. After all, she was usually very careful about safe sex. Instead, she felt as if he’d taken a train to the other side of the world, even as she felt his breath still on the back of her neck.
A shudder ran through him, touched her. But she tried to build a bulwark from it. Best not to feel anything ever again.
He ran a hand up her body, between her breasts, to her neck, then gently turned her chin to look at him. Smiling down at her, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry.”
Again, his R was jumbled and lovely.
She tried to force a smile, tried to tell herself that his leaving would happen eventually and best to pretend it didn’t matter.
He kept shaking his head. “Ah, Meredith, lass.” Then his smile widened as he slowly held her shoulder then hip, rotating her to lie on her back. “Yer turn.”
“What?” She tried to lift herself with her elbows, but he was suddenly between her legs, his long masculine fingers trailing down her body.
“Ye’re so beautiful.”
“No.”
He looked up, then quickly rose, hovering over her, face-to-face, his gaze meeting hers. “Ye’re so beautiful.”
She shook her head.
“Ye’re so beautiful.”
He kissed her then. It was demanding, possessive, and bossy. And Meredith didn’t know whether she liked it. But she hated liars—ironic, since she was one herself. And he was lying to her, calling her...She couldn’t even repeat that word in her thoughts. She was ugly. If only he knew.
He wouldn’t let up. He kept kissing her with the bruising sentiment, his body swaying down, one of his hands touching the inside of her thigh. She gasped in the kiss. She felt him smile. But still, he kissed her. His hand traveled further up, then traced the very outside of the apex of her legs. She had curls everywhere now, no longer getting herself waxed, and she wondered what he thought...
He slid a knuckle against her very core. She rocked against the sensation, her breath suddenly gone.
He moaned.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered through his lips.
He finally stopped with his insistent kisses, hovering over her, looking at her, as if looking into her.
“I don’t want ye to be sorry, Meredith. I want ye to want this.” He slid a finger over her again, gently caressing her clitoris.
She thrust her hips, not meaning to. “I’m sorry.”
“I want ye to move like that, Meredith. I want that.” He circled her nub, and the white-hot electricity was back, throbbing through her body. Her legs opened even more to him. “Does it feel good when ye move against me?”
She couldn’t talk any longer, but she did nod.
“Then I want ye to do it.”
He applied a little more pressure on her clit, and she might have whimpered.
“All I want, beautiful woman, is for ye to feel good. So good.”
He’d said good, sounding like guid.
She started to shake her head, but he kissed her cheeks forcefully, making her stop her movement. He kissed down her neck, while his adroit fingers caressed her. His fluttering kisses stopped over one of her breasts, and he savored her nipple.
She couldn’t help but arch and buck. He moaned. He obviously liked her body jerking and flexing without any sangfroid, becoming undone. She liked it too, but usually sex was...restrained. Not as in a
Fifty Shades of Grey
restrained, as in she’d held back because sex was always about David. Never this, never about her legs open so far she felt exposed and vulnerable, and as Jake kissed down her body, she knew she would end up with a broken heart. But she couldn’t seem to care about that. Not while he licked the inside her thigh.
Her breathing was crazy, especially as she felt Jake exhaling on her center. There were so many things she used to worry about—was she too excited, too wet, did her sex look pretty, would he think her disgusting, too needy? But none of that mattered. She just wanted Jake to keep touching her, to make the white-hot energy multiply until she exploded. She wanted more.
His tongue carefully touched the outside of her folds, making her shake with need. One of his fingers explored where his tongue had been. She rocked her hips, needing more. He softly chuckled, and she almost tucked herself away, fearing he was laughing at her, when he kissed her clitoris. Kissed her, then sucked. Soon, his tongue lapped around her nub and over it. Writhing on her bed, she gasped and moaned and might have screamed. His tongue found a rhythm, then one of his fingers slid inside her. Maybe more, as she felt stretched once again.
Reaching down, she tunneled her fingers through his soft, soft honey brown hair. Oh, it was like silk. And she let herself caress it, let herself feel him, encourage him to keep on. The energy kept expanding, getting bigger, getting hotter, the more he moved, the more he touched her. Her stomach fluttered flat, her breasts ached, and she could only sway into him, loving how every time he moved she’d meet him.
It happened too fast. The energy plowed into her, over her, made her crack and break into a million pieces. She cried out as she came, holding onto his hair, hoping she wasn’t hurting him, but needing something to cling to.
He eventually lifted himself. Wiping his face quickly, he smiled down at her as he hovered over her again.
Only, her orgasm had made her greedy. It wasn’t enough. Wasn’t nearly enough.
“More?” she pleaded.
Reaching down, she felt his cock. So hard.
He moaned and closed his eyes. She glanced between their bodies, seeing for herself that he was as eager to have sex again as she. A pearl of pre-cum surfaced on his penis, and she rubbed it on his surely sensitive head.
Opening his eyes, he asked, “Sure?”
She nodded, gently pulling on him to lower, to again make love to her.
Wait. It wasn’t making love. This was just sex. She didn’t even know his middle name, and she sure as hell better remember that. Because when he left her, if she thought he’d made love to her, it would kill her.
Only, before he entered her again, he lowered his handsome face and kissed her. Kissed her as if he cared, kissed her as if he thought she was worthy, kissed her as if they had some kind of future, where this was only the beginning. And her heart, damn it, nudged under her ribs again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, loving how tender he was.
Slowly, so slowly, he lowered himself on her body. Through their clothes they lay there, heart to heart.
She tried over and over again to remind herself it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. But he gently ground against her still sensitive sex. Gasping, she rocked against him, needing him inside her. They danced again, thrusting and swaying, find each other’s rhythms, until finally he slid back inside her. They both stilled then. He stopped their kiss, looking down at her. All the while he watched her, when he finally began to thrust. She met him. It took a few tries, but eventually they moved as if they’d known each other’s ways all along. As if they’d made love before, and Meredith chided herself for thinking as much. But that was how it felt nonetheless.
He lowered his head beside hers. “Oh, Meredith, ye’re so beautiful.”
She couldn’t shake her head. His was against hers, forcing her to be still. She couldn’t talk, because all she could utter were passion-filled moans. And then, those horribly lovely words ricocheted through her bones, through her sinew, through her heart. She felt it. Felt so beautiful.
“Meredith,” he whispered again.
The white petals and butterflies returned with a vengeance, making her body squirm and grind against him. The energy inside of her kept amplifying until all she heard was her name on his lips and that haunting, never-hers word:
beautiful.
But while he was with her, she felt it. She was. She was soaked through and through with his precious sentiment, until it crested over her, making her come again. Clutching onto his shirt, she called out his name. Over and over she yelled for him.
She felt him grip at the sheets beside her head, then he lifted himself as he powerfully thrust into her quivering body. Staring into her soul, he kept circling until he finally took one more stroke, then hurried to remove himself from her body. He came outside of her again, but while gazing into her eyes. He spasmed above her, over her, all around.
Again, she should have been grateful.
But she felt lonely.
He whispered something, something so quiet, she didn’t know for certain what he’d said. Maybe, “I wish...” No, he said it again, and there was a “g” in there. Perhaps, he’d whispered, “The gal”? But it sounded more like, “Ha gaol muga morsht.”
He swayed against her, his head lowering beside hers again, where she felt him breathing hard. Then, utterly surprising her, he gave way, and rested all his body’s weight on her. Oh, he was heavy. Maybe he truly was made out of lead.
Holding onto her, he rolled their bodies over, so she lay on top of him. It was as if he wanted to still be close, and she worried her heart already wanted as much. Somehow he adjusted their bodies, so she could lay her head on his chest. So she did.
He took a giant breath and held onto her with his strong arms. Held her so tight. All she could do was give into this new sensation of being held, as if she were precious, as if she were cherished. And something about the confusing feeling rippling through her body, should have made her wary and awake, but she was sleepy. While listening to his strong heartbeat, she closed her eyes. He caressed her back. And she gave up. She slept holding onto him so tightly too.
D
amn
, Meredith Peabody was bonny. The morning rays stole in through her cabin’s wide greenish windows, painting her with soft dandelion light and a hint of pink. All her hairpins had been set free in their love making, and Jake noticed how short her hair was. Oh, it was long enough to twirl up in some sort of fashion, but he was used to women’s hair hanging to their waists. Meredith’s lustrous sable tresses mayhap kissed her shoulders. He wondered about the length.
The Indians around these parts didn’t cut their hair like the Yamasee’s he’d lived with. The Yamasee’s, like the Iroquois, shaved their heads in truly amazing fashions—one side shaven, the other long; short on the sides, long in the middle; or sometimes they’d have spikes that Jake liked the most. But the people of the West didn’t cut their hair, or if they did it meant something. Grief, the loss of dreams, the loss of spirit. Jake wondered if Meredith’s short hair meant something along those lines.
He hated to leave her, scared out of his skin she could be pursued again. But it was getting late, and he was only on day two of his job. He’d extracted himself from her limbs carefully, but missed her as soon as her legs and arms weren’t stretched around him. Wasn’t he a lucky son of a bitch? Day two of a good job and he’d also landed himself the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. He couldn’t help but smile at that.
He’d cleaned himself up with some of her indoor water. Will wonders ever cease? It was as icy as Hades, but he could pump it beside her stove, where he’d shoved in a few extra logs to keep the cabin warm. He thought the noise of getting ready would awaken her, but she still slept with that lovely little smile on her face, one arm reached around the pillow he’d put in his stead. Yep, lucky, that’s what he was.
He couldn’t just leave her alone, so he wrote a quick note that he’d return soon. One of the black kittens had already jumped up on the bed, curling close to Meredith’s head, and the other more cautious one smelled his boot that he’d put back on. It was progress.
Standing beside her bed, staring down at the woman he’d made love to a few hours ago, his heart warmed, his stomach felt light, his cock—lord, he’d jumped the gun with making love to her so soon, but he could make it up to her. They had the rest of their lives to get to know each other, after all.
Contentedly, he sighed and quietly left her warm home with half her egg pie in a handkerchief. He hoped she wouldn’t mind, but he ate a lot, and after this morning...oh, this morning...he was starving. Saddling his steed in the cold morning with still no snow, he was out of the barn in record time and munching on the creamy pie his woman had made.
His woman
. That sounded good. Damned good.
As soon as he tethered his horse to the vertical wooden pole outside the Stop, Laura flew out the doors, a thick pink afghan wrapped around her.
“Is she all right?” Her eyes were gigantic and full of concern.
Jake nodded and swallowed his last delicious bite.
“Was there...was there a—?”
“There were tracks all around her cabin,” he said. Mayhap a bit gruffly. “Someone was spying on her.”
One of Laura’s hands fluttered to her mouth. Her eyes instantly reddened. “Oh Lord, what have I done?”
It’d frustrated the living hell out of Jake that no one had believed Meredith, so he let Laura crucify herself with guilt, let her stew in it, while he sucked bits of bacon from his teeth. His woman knew how to cook that was for certain. He’d wished he’d taken more as he held the door open for Laura to walk back into the Stop. Hesitatingly, she did.
“You must think the worst of me.”
Jake shook his head. He’d seen some of the worst of humanity in the last year, murdering children for sport. So, nay, what he thought of Laura wasn’t the worst. But he wasn’t sure he cared to get to know her any better.
“Need to get my shotgun and other arms then return to Meredith’s. Keep a watch out.”
“Sorry, son,” the booming voice of Tom echoed down the stairs then bounced through the foyer. “Rumor has it my men are going to try to kill each other in a street fight before work.” He’d finally plopped down to the bottom steps of the stairs as large and menacing as ever, holding his red suspenders in hand. “Idiots,” Tom added with a shake of the head.
Laura gripped the banister. “Thomas, there is no way I’m allowing Jake to be anywhere but at Meredith’s. Someone
was
spying on her. She wasn’t—she wasn’t seeing things. It was real.” Laura glanced at Jake once more, guilt obvious, but there was also a trace of worry. Seeming to be the kind of worry that she’d revealed too much.
Tom straightened, his ruddy face paling slightly. “Shit.”
“Thomas,” Laura reprimanded.
He turned to his wife. “Well, shit, Laura, aren’t I an ass for not believing her? Lord have mercy, is she all right?” There was deep concern written over Tom’s face, and Jake felt inclined to forgive both he and his wife. Mayhap not just yet.
Jake nodded, but gritted his teeth. He needed to break up whatever kind of fight the miners were planning. That was his job.
“I’ll go to Miss Peabody’s and keep guard for her,” a small voice said closer to the dining area.
Jake glanced at Mr. Wan and his son, Chen. The tall lad continued. “I like Miss Peabody. I’ll keep watch over her while you break up the idiot miners.” Mr. Wan tried to tap down his obvious prideful smile for his son.
“I’ll go too,” Laura said quietly. “I need to apologize to Meredith. I need to make this right. We’ll watch over her, while you do your job, Jake. Oh. Oh! There—there was a man here yesterday. He asked for Tom—”
“Who was it?” Tom interrupted.
Laura pursed her lips. “I was getting to the part where I tell you I didn’t know who he was. He said his name. What was it? Mr. Bruiser, or something like that. No, it was Martin Bruisner, and he said he was part of the Butte Mining Company. Meredith slapped him.”
“What’d he do to her?” Jake asked, his voice as threatening as a cannon.
Laura shook her head. “Nothing much.” She sniffed. “That little, tiny woman was defending me, my decency. They got in a fight about me, my race, being married to Tom being against the law. Oh, they fought about other things too, but, Meredith, like a firecracker, kept defending me. Until she slapped him. Looked as though it would hurt too, that slap. Then he just left, but the look before he left. That scared me down to my bones.”
Jake repressed a shudder trying to wring through him. Damn, he needed to protect his woman. He hated this, having to do a job versus protecting his woman. Well, there was no contest. Meredith won. Hands down.
Chen, as if sensing Jake’s thoughts, came to stand closer. “I can do it, Sheriff Cameron. I can protect her until you’re done with your job, breaking up the miners.”
If the miners were let loose with their battle, Tom might be facing a small war on his hands. Jake sighed. “Got a gun?”
Mr. Wan wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders who was already taller than his father. “My son has a sniper’s eye. Best in my family.”
“And I have a gun, God damn it.” Laura’s voice was beyond incensed. “Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t know how to shoot.”
Jake held a palm out to her. “I was getting ‘round to askin’ ye.”
“Good.” She snorted. “Sorry to have been so rough with you.”
Jake smiled. Couldn’t help it. If that was rough, then, aye, he’d give Laura another chance.
Tom snaked an arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her closer. “Honey, I love it when you talk so coarse.”
She smacked his chest. “Stop it, you silly man. People are watching.”
So it was decided: Laura and Chen were on their way to Meredith’s before Jake had much time to think of anything to say. He’d considered asking Laura to give Meredith some sort of code for his undying affection. But he and Meredith hadn’t known each other long enough to have such a code. Ah, but they would, he told himself. Mayhap after he’d help negotiate some sort of peace between the miners, he’d talk to Tom about where to buy a ring.