Authors: Christa Maurice
He leaned across the gearshift. “I’d rather be here with you.”
“Your stay can be extended, if you like. Just tell the campground manager.”
Pressing his lips to hers, he tasted her greedily.
Dying for his kiss, she moved into it. He tried to pull her into his lap, but the gearshift and the steering wheel stopped him. Instead, he opened her coat and caressed her breast through her sweatshirt. Her skin ached to be touched directly.
“How do you do this to me?” he murmured, kissing her jaw. “I can’t even wait to get you in the house.”
“Witchcraft.” God help her, his touch lit her on fire. A whimper of need escaped her as he slid his other hand around her waist and pulled her against the gearshift. She unbuttoned his coat.
“Must be,” he said, brushing his thumb across her erect nipple.
“We’re going to have to let go if we want to get any closer.” She ran her hands down his chest, feeling the muscles tense and shiver under his sweater.
He responded by kissing her neck, and suddenly she only wanted him inside her. The need to touch him tingled through her. She would do it. She would have sex with him here on the seat of her truck because she couldn’t wait to move the twenty feet to her bedroom. The windows were steaming up. “Race you to the back door.”
She pushed away from him. His momentary confusion allowed her to slip out the door and race around the back of the truck. He met her at the door to the house, and they tumbled inside together.
Holding her against the wall with his hard body, he devoured her with kisses.
The rush of need overwhelmed her, made her cling to him. His hot breath skimmed across her neck followed by his lips, and he lifted her off her feet. Between her legs, his length pressed, hard and throbbing, and she reached down and stroked it. He shuddered.
“You’re a terrible tease,” he whispered, nibbling her earlobe.
“Isn’t teasing not giving you what you want?” She pressed harder against him and he moved under her touch. “I plan to give you what you want.” She unbuttoned his jeans. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” he groaned.
Unzipping him, she slipped her hand inside his underwear. He was hot and thick in her hand, making her slick with wanting him. He opened his mouth against her throat, and as she tightened her grasp, the harsh, lusty sound he made shivered through her. “Is it good?”
As she moved her hand up his length, he shuddered. His shoulders kept her against the wall.
“I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered. Still stroking him, she used her free hand and opened his jeans.
He eased her to her feet and took her mouth with his, pushed her jeans down until she kicked them free, and pressed a condom into her hands. Her fingers couldn’t seem to grasp the foil and tear it open at the same time. She groaned, fumbling the packet in her hands, aching for him to move higher. To slide inside her. She turned her face away from him, breaking their kiss so she could look at the condom package.
“I want you now.” Jason growled. He tried to bring her face back to his, but she put the packet between her teeth and tore it open before he could capture her mouth again. Deprived of her mouth, he bit her neck at the curve of her shoulder, sucked hard on her tender flesh.
She slid the condom over him. “Now.”
He lifted her off the floor and thrust into her in one smooth motion. She gasped. Her fingers tangled through his hair as he pounded into her against the wall. The wall behind her felt cold against her hot skin. Her body opened to him. His hot panting ruffled through her hair. She heard herself sobbing for faster, harder, more, forever. He responded, thrusting harder until she shook apart.
“Cass!” he shouted. Then his knees buckled and she found herself sliding to the hall floor, wrapped around him, filled with him.
They lay in a tangle for a long time, still wearing their coats. His jeans were wrapped around his ankles, hers lay in a heap against the back door, her shoes stuck in the legs. She trembled with the aftermath of release.
“I think you were right,” he murmured, trailing his fingers along her cheek. “It’s got to be witchcraft.”
Trying to focus her eyes, she stared at the door. “I don’t know who’s enthralling who. I do know I’m never going to look at this house the same way.”
Jason looked around. “I suppose not. Are you ready to move?”
“I suppose the wood won’t carry itself in.” She sat up. Her body still shook. “You know my view of the house isn’t going to be the only thing changed when you leave.”
“Oh?”
He sounded hesitant, but she didn’t know why. What did he have to be afraid of? She’d be the one left behind with the memories. She touched the wall behind her. How would she walk past this wall everyday without remembering?
She didn’t want to drag the moment down. To frighten him away with her fears. She wanted to remain cheerful so on those rare occasions when he did remember her, it would be good. “I’m going to be bowlegged.”
“We could experiment, if you’re interested. There are a couple of positions that wouldn’t leave you so bowlegged.” Grinning, he stood, pulling his pants up.
If this storm snowed them in for a month, she’d be willing to do all kinds of experimenting. “I have to bring in more wood.”
“I’ll give you a hand.” He reached down and helped her up, but pulled her back into his arms. “I wasn’t blowing smoke before. I’ve never known a woman who turns me on the way you do. You’re amazing.”
“I’m flattered. The competition is stiff.” Cass shifted out of his arms so she could pull on her jeans. Stella. Beautiful Stella. She must not have pushed Jason’s buttons. Unless he was lying. No real reason for him to, though. He had her in whatever way he wanted so didn’t need to flatter her into bed.
But now they needed wood. Outside, she held her coat closed while crossing the garage to the door leading to her woodpile. She should have brought the carrier, but in the sudden need to be away from Jason, had forgotten it.
The snow was falling faster. If clearing the tree had taken much more time, they wouldn’t have gotten back up the mountain. By dark, their tire tracks would be covered. If it kept up like this, they would have to fight the front door open in the morning.
She loaded up her arms and turned. Smiling, Jason stood behind her. The urge to frown at him overcame her, and she didn’t know why. “Grab an armload and we won’t have to come back out tonight.”
“Will this be enough?”
“Yes.”
“For all night?”
Cass stopped in the doorway. She’d picked up more than she could hold and didn’t want to drop it right now. It hung in her arms like lead. Her shoulders ached. “I’ve lived up here for five years. I know how much wood we’ll need to get through a night.” She shoved past him.
“No reason to get snippy,” he called after her.
Inside, she stacked the wood in the box by the fireplace. The fire had died down, but there should be enough embers to bring it back up. She was being snippy. It welled out of her like oil seeping from the ground. She set a small split log on the embers. If she wanted to chase Jason away, this would do it. Have great sex with him and then snap at him. It was becoming a pattern.
Balancing a huge armload of wood, Jason walked in, looking wary.
“Here, let me get some of that.” She stood up and took the top pieces off his stack. “I’m sorry. This is not something I normally do.”
“Snap?”
She felt herself turning red. Sleeping around probably didn’t seem like a big deal to him, but she’d seen
Almost Famous
. He lived it. “Have affairs.”
“I didn’t think so. If you had, some smart guy would have grabbed you up by now.” He eased the rest of the wood into the box.
Cass put another piece of wood on the fire. A joke. That’s all this was to him. A joke and a passing fancy. Anger welled up again, and she needed to cap it before it got away from her. This should be light, not an ugly scene. She needed to stop making this more than casual sex between consenting adults. He was not going to fall madly in love with her and decide to take her away from all this, and she had to stop herself from falling in love with him. “I’m going to go take a shower before I get dinner.”
“Sure.” He frowned, but didn’t say anything else. As she walked into the bathroom she heard him noodling on his guitar. He wasn’t playing
“
I’m Looking Through You,
”
so she felt safe enough to step under the water.
* * * *
After her shower, Cass brought out the hanging grill for the fireplace. Jason’s eyes lit up when he realized how she planned to cook dinner. While eating his hamburgers and baked potatoes cooked in the fireplace, he acted like a big, happy kid. Afterward, they sang campfire songs for a while, then put in a movie and cuddled on the couch. While she lay back in his arms, he seemed comfortable, just watching the movie and holding her. Michael had never wanted to do that. He’d either critiqued the acting and directing or told her the movie was a waste of time, and wouldn’t she rather go see a play? Not until her first winter on the mountain had she been able to watch movies again. That first long winter, when she’d discovered she could stand on her own.
“Why do you call it In the Pines Campground?” Jason asked as she took the DVD out of the player.
“I named it after a song my dad likes.”
He brightened. “Can you sing it?”
“I’m sure I have it on a CD here someplace.”
“I want to hear you sing it.”
Her father had sung it to her since she was a baby. The words should be encoded in her DNA. “In the pines, in the pines where the sun never shines and you shiver when the cold winds blow. True love, true love, won’t you write to me, not even your mammy knows.” Then her mind went blank. She was singing for a singer. Her down-home, untrained, amateur voice sounded fine around a campfire, but he knew how to sing. “I forget the rest. Something about being in jail, I think. Maybe getting married. Those were the popular themes. My dad could sing it for you.”
“Sing the tune for me again.” He picked up his guitar.
She snapped the DVD back into its keeper case.
“Come on, you’ve been singing all night,” he encouraged. He picked out a couple of notes. “In the pines, in the pines where the sun never shines…”
Because she had no choice, she sang the small bit she remembered so he could pick out the tune on his guitar. He played the bit again. “I could call my dad and ask him what the rest of the words are,” she offered.
“Ah, but then he might catch on,” Jason said. “I don’t want to be the guest of honor at a shotgun wedding, remember?”
“True.”
The notes spun into the air as he started picking the tune out again. “I’ll track it down. I just wondered. I’m not much for tree watching, but I know a pine when I see it, and you don’t seem to have any.”
“No, it’s mostly elms, oaks, beeches and maples around here.” His fingers had played across her skin the same way they now strummed the strings. Masterfully, confident...almost lovingly. Remembering it, everywhere on her tingled. Her phone rang, startling her. She darted across the room and got it on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Cassie, are you all tucked in for the storm?”
“Oh hi, Mom. I am.” Cass leaned against the wall. At times, her mother seemed psychic. When she was a child, she’d been sure of it, but later realized she just lived in a small town with lots of eyes. Times like now she wasn’t so sure it was only nosy neighbors who clued her mother in to her wrongdoing.
“How about your guest?”
“He’s fine.”
“I wish you weren’t having this storm while he was up there. I don’t like to think about novices in this weather.”
Jason was playing something softly and note perfect. Her mother probably assumed it was a CD. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’ll keep a watch on him,” Cass said. Without missing a note, Jason looked over his shoulder and winked at her.
“Your father and I were just talking about you taking winter guests. If you had good weather, it wouldn’t be so bad. You know, Sue could get you a pack of guests in the winter. She always has people clamoring for her retreat things, and those folks always want to be left alone anyway. But I worry about this weather.”
“I guess this will make a good test run.” Head down, eyes closed, Jason had turned back to his playing. Cass doubted she would be treating the regular guests the way she treated him. Or anyone, actually.
“I should warn you, Finn Runningwater is just wild with jealousy.”
“Why?”
“He’s sure something is going to happen between you and your guest.”
Cass rolled her eyes, and for once her mother didn’t seem to hear it.
“Not that I would blame you.”
“Mother!”
“Oh, honey, you’re a grown woman and I must tell you, that Jason is quite nice to look at.”
“Dad isn’t around, is he?”
Jason turned around, frowning curiously.
“No, he’s watching television downstairs, but he did defend you to Finn. He told him it was your choice what you did and he, Finn that is, had no claim on you.”
“When did this happen?”
“At Ida’s this afternoon. We went in for lunch. You know, I don’t think Paul likes Finn much.”
Cass put her hand over her eyes. Ida’s, which meant Ida had been there as well as Finn, her parents and Paul, and an assortment of townsfolk. As far as they knew, nothing was happening on the mountain, but they were making something up anyway. Heaven help her if they ever found out what was going on. “Why don’t you think Paul likes Finn?”
“Well, they got into it today. Paul said you knew what you were about and Finn should keep out of it, and Finn said if you’d gone off with Michael then you must not know what you were about so somebody had to keep watch over you. Well, you know Paul and Paul was right there with you. He just about went through the roof.”
Paul rarely controlled himself when he could go full hissy fit, and if her mother said ‘through the roof’ it must have been Paul classic, complete with broken dishes. The town would be talking until spring.
“Paul told Finn he had best keep his opinions to himself because he wasn’t there and didn’t know what happened. He said he doubted even you knew all of what had happened between you two.” Shirley paused for a beat. “What do you suppose he meant by that?”