Once Tasted: A Silver Creek Novel (15 page)

She came with a scream, arching off the bed and clamping his fingers in a velvet vise. As her hips bucked, he licked and kissed her, savoring her tangy essence. While the contractions continued to rock her, he kept his fingers deep inside her, withdrawing only when her harsh pants quieted.

His own heart was pounding, his body shaking with a need as intense as any he’d ever felt. Blindly, he reached for the condom, brought the foil wrapper to his mouth, and tore it open with his teeth. Sitting back on his haunches, he slid the latex over his erection and shuddered. Mia stared at him, her breasts rising and falling. His hunger spiked threefold. Locking his gaze on her, he looped her long legs about his hips and guided his
cock to her center. His muscles tensed in anticipation, he drove deep, sheathing himself to the hilt.

She came in a second loud scream.

Holy fucking hell
was his last coherent thought.

Consumed by desire, mad with need, Reid moved inside Mia in a fevered dance. His hands stroked, hers clutched. At times they urged him on, at others they clung as she rode the storm of their passion. Throughout, his hips pumped and ground against hers with a barely restrained violence.

Sweat slicked their bodies.

He dove his fingers into her thick mane, wrapping it around his wrists like a silken anchor, mooring himself to her as they strained against each other. Their mouths hungry, their teeth scoring, raking and nipping quivering flesh. The torture was exquisite.

Arousal wound them ever tighter, propelled them ever higher. Once again Reid felt Mia stiffen beneath him, moving more urgently as she reached for that sweet release. He slid his hand between them and dragged his finger over her slick nub, rubbing it. She cried out his name as she came, her body clenching around him, milking him exquisitely, triggering his own climax. With a deep, savage groan, he surged into her and, joined, came with a rush that stunned.

So very right, he thought, once he could think again.

That was the biggest surprise of the night, how flawlessly he and Mia fit together. Moved together. Came together. It was fucking incredible, actually.

Spent, beyond replete, Reid collapsed onto the bed beside her, one of his hands still wrapped in the thick silk of her hair. He was too tired to move it. He had
only energy enough to smile when her breath tickled his damp chest. His smile widened as he heard a delicate yet distinct snore escape her.

So the wild-haired witch who’d blown his mind had fallen asleep on him. Who’d have ever imagined such a thing, and he shifted his head to press a kiss against her brow. Still marveling, he closed his eyes and succumbed, too.

M
IA NEEDED TO
pee. She needed to open her eyes, too. But her lids were as heavy as cinder blocks. She swallowed, and all the sand of the Sahara slid down her throat.

She felt awful, kind of like overstretched taffy, and though her head didn’t pound, she couldn’t move it. It was stuck somehow. Never, ever again would she drink pomegranate martinis.

The cries of the awakening birds came through the open window. Then she heard something else. The sound was low-pitched and reached her right ear in a warm blast. Someone was breathing.

Suddenly she became aware of a heavy, solid presence near her. Mere inches away.

It was a body. A quietly snoring body.

Panicked, she wrenched her lids open to stare at the ceiling. She knew those cracks as well as she knew the lines of her palms. She was awake, she was in her room; this wasn’t some terrible nightmare. This was far worse: reality.
Oh God
, what had she done?

A rush of memories flooded her, far more vivid than the purplish-red martinis she’d drunk.

Her heart thudding, she cautiously looked sideways.
And the very worst suspicion was confirmed. Horrified shock had her jackknifing—or trying to. The attempt ended in a howl of pain.

“Ow!” She went to clutch her head. Instead, her elbow slammed into Reid. Hard. Her second “Ow!” was answered by his “
Shit!
Damn it all to hell, that
hurt
.”

His stream of curses continued. She ignored them, concentrating on the excruciating spot at the back of her head and trying not to hyperventilate because Reid was buck-naked next to her in bed. Trying not to pass out because she was equally so.

Her head was throbbing in pain. It felt like a large hank of hair had been ripped out by its roots. Her fingers searched for the spot and found his hand instead. She swatted it. “Get away!”

“I can’t,” he growled, obviously no happier than she. “My watch is caught in your hair.”

She turned to glare at him and winced as pain stabbed her. “Well, get
uncaught
.”

“Nothing I’d like better, believe me,” he said. His right hand was cupped over the side of his face. He lowered it and she saw exactly what part of him her elbow had rammed. While his fingers probed the area around his bleary eye, a surge of guilt welled up inside her.

But embarrassment topped it.

Last night had been so—she had no words to describe the feelings, the oceans of sensation that had swept over her when Reid had touched her, kissed her, and then entered her. She’d never experienced sex like that and was sure she never would again. Because who could compare to Reid? No one. And now? The damage was done.

What wouldn’t she give to have five minutes alone to cry and release some of the emotions flooding her? Instead, she was trapped with the man who now occupied
an even bigger role in her life than he had before. She’d had difficulty enough putting her high school infatuation behind her. How in the world was she to forget that Reid had been everything she’d ever imagined in a lover—and far more?

And after a night like the one he’d given her, now this, a mortification-filled morning after. Actually, this was a far more believable scenario, especially one in which Reid costarred. She was feeling stupidly groggy, had a mouth that probably smelled like a swamp, and her hair was doing its freshly electrocuted thing. Even worse, its manacled thing.

And she still hadn’t peed.

Even in the predawn light, even with bed head and a sleep-creased face, Reid was breathtakingly handsome: all smooth, bronzed skin and sculpted muscles. She wanted to drag the covers over her head and hide. But of course she couldn’t, not when his wristwatch was caught in the overgrown thicket that passed for her hair.

She spoke through gritted teeth. “Would you kindly get on with extricating yourself?”

“I’m trying my best.” His voice was as tense as hers.

He scooted closer, six-foot-two inches of glorious male beauty.

Remembering the weight of his body pressing down on her, of his hard length moving inside her, she dropped her forehead to her upraised knees, hiding cheeks that burned. What was he doing here in her bed? Was he even now regretting their night together?

“Damn, your hair is thick.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she muttered. Like why you decided to sleep with me, she added silently.

“Okay, how about this? I’ve seen jungle vines tamer than this.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. She bet most of Reid’s
women got at least a good-morning kiss. She got insults about her hair. “And where have you ever seen a jungle vine?”

“On those wild-animal programs on TV. Quinn loves them. They take you into a jungle like this.” He tugged, gently enough. But, rattled by his presence and the heat of him and the male muskiness of him, she jumped.

“Ow,” she said, extra crossly. Raising her hand to the spot, she brushed his fingers.

For several beats there was silence, as electric as the rush of desire through her veins from that accidental touch.

Then he batted her hand away with a gruff command. “Stop crowding me. It’s difficult enough to see what I’m doing here. And quit squirming, or you’ll be wearing a hat for the next six months.”

She hunched defensively, trying not to think about everything they’d done on this bed together, that she’d climaxed three times and that he probably gave every woman he slept with that kind of epic pleasure. She failed. Miserably.

He leaned closer. She could only assume she alone felt the heat building between them as his fingers carefully sifted through her tangles. The gentleness of his fingers unnerved her as much as the presence of his naked body, inches away.

Her heart banged painfully in her chest. Oh God, oh God.

He shifted, his skin grazing hers, and she caught her breath.

She was dizzy from holding it by the time he gave a grunt of satisfaction. “Free at last,” he said, lowering his hands.

Before she could form a coherent reply, he’d jumped off the bed as though she had a communicable disease.

She raised her head and caught sight of his naked butt. The twin globes were pale, as were the topmost portion of his legs. His skin darkened abruptly where his swim trunks must end. She watched his muscles clench as he pulled on his dark-gray knit boxers and then jammed his feet into his jeans. She heard the rasp of his zipper and then saw his arms move as he buckled his belt.

He scooped his shirt off the floor and turned back to the bed. She only just managed to avert her gaze, lowering it to the rumpled cotton coverlet.

“We should talk about this,” he said.

The words sounded forced to her ears. She could guess how much he wanted any kind of conversation. She kept her eyes fixed on the white appliqué pattern, staring until her vision blurred. “What’s there to talk about? We had sex. No big deal. Besides, it’s not like it’s going to happen again. Ever.”

He must have descended the stairs at warp speed. Seconds later she heard the front door slam.

Well, at least she could cry now.

It was early, not even six o’clock, when Reid reached the barns and the corrals, on his way to a hot shower, a fortifying cup of black coffee, and an ice pack for his throbbing eye. It stung like a bitch.

His good eye spotted Ward inside the enclosure. He was currying Gomez, one of their trail horses, while the white gelding nibbled on his breakfast flakes of hay. In the summer, the morning trail rides started earlier, to save both riders and equines from baking under the sun at its zenith. Ward, Quinn, and Jim, one of their wranglers, were taking the morning group out. It would be Reid’s turn tomorrow.

The sound of his booted feet on the gravel had Ward looking up. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.”

“A little later than I expected.”

Reid cocked his head. “You keeping tabs on me?”

“Nope, I just want this business deal between us and the Bodells to work out.”

“Interestingly enough, that’s my plan, too. After I get some coffee inside me, I’m taking one of Dad’s tractors and a grading rake over to their place. I don’t think Thomas’s tractor has enough horsepower.” He was also going to put in a call to Howie Briggs. Howie owned a gravel company outside Ukiah and rode Quarter Horses competitively on the weekends. It just so happened he’d bought one trained by Reid. According to Howie, Condor was the best horse he’d ever had. Reid figured that was worth an express shipment of gravel at cost.

If Ward was surprised that Reid was taking farm equipment over to Mia’s, he didn’t show it. “Okay,” he said. “Will you be done with the tractor by the afternoon?”

“We’re vaccinating the calves today, right? Yeah. Count me in.” Sirrus would enjoy the work.

Ward nodded. “Good. Did you sleep with her?”

“None of your goddamned business.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ So that’s probably a first for you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, thinking he really needed that coffee. And the ice. And about four aspirin.

“Spending the night with a beautiful woman and coming home with a black eye.”

He hadn’t realized Ward thought she was beautiful. Probably because Mia didn’t scowl at him.

Instead of replying, Reid ducked through the wooden railing, picked up a bristle brush, and began to groom Felix, who was tied next to Gomez. The gelding had
found some mud to roll in. Every vigorous stroke sent brown clouds into the air.

“So where does the shiner come into all this?” Ward asked.

Not pausing in his brushing, Reid raised his left hand and probed the bruise gingerly. “My wristwatch got caught in her hair. I guess she was a little disoriented when she woke up and she winged me with her elbow. It was an accident—although she’s certainly been itching to give me a black eye for a while.”

“Mia?” Ward said in disbelief. “I know she’s never been a card-carrying member of your fan club, but I didn’t know she longed to do you bodily harm. Care to share?”

Older brothers with a sense of humor early in the morning left something to be desired. But he figured he might as well tell Ward, since his brother wasn’t likely to let it rest.

“Remember when you were recovering from the knife wound you got when that gang ambushed Brian Nash?”

“Yeah. After I got out of the hospital, I had to stay home and have Mom fuss over me.”

“Well, I had an adventure of my own that week, only I didn’t come off quite so heroically. The opposite, in fact.”

Ward let the currycomb rest on top of Gomez’s rump. “What are you talking about?”