Once Tasted: A Silver Creek Novel (26 page)

Very personal.

It had started in the usual way. Hot, fun, and fiercely sexy. But then something had changed.

He’d been inside her. He stared up as she rode him, drinking in her beautiful rosy-tipped breasts and the curving line of her neck as she let her head drop back and arched on a wave of pleasure. Her lips had parted in a soft cry as she ground into him, making his blood
surge and his brain fog. Where he gripped her hips, steadying her, the ends of her hair brushed his arms. The teasing contact, combined with the delicious clamp of her inner muscles around his cock, brought him perilously close to the edge. He clenched his jaw, fighting the need to wrest control, flip her onto her back, and drive into her, giving them both the sweet release that hovered so near.

Nothing, however, could stop his fingers from seeking the straining nub of her clitoris or stop triumph from roaring through him when her breath caught and she cried his name in astonishment, her body shaking from the force of her orgasm. Her core milked him, made his own body jerk as if jolted by a thousand watts of pleasure. He came, emptying himself into her, giving her everything.

His heart had been the last organ to recover. Even now it was pumping heavily in his chest. It felt different, too, filled with something new. He wasn’t inclined to examine exactly what that something was, other than that it made him feel strangely humbled.

Then again, why should that be odd? Who wouldn’t be humbled and, yes, shaken by the woman lying in his arms? He remembered the stunned awe in her eyes as her climax seized her and the tremulous smile she’d given him after she’d collapsed onto his sweat-slicked chest. Nor could he forget the sense of rightness that invaded his being when he folded his arms about her.

That’s when he’d realized that his old vocabulary didn’t cover what Mia and he had done together. This had been more than coitus, fornication, X-rated gymnastics, or, his favorite, a really good fuck.

With Mia, he’d done something that felt awfully like lovemaking.

But did that mean he’d fallen in love with Mia?

The very thought made his mouth go dry and caused
his already over-exercised heart to race. Jesus, he wasn’t ready for that—for love. He knew he cared for her. He knew something funny had happened to him when he’d been deep inside her and that it was something he’d never felt for another woman—and thus no laughing matter. But love?

It occurred to him that he’d been careless. While he’d remembered to remove his watch to avoid any further entanglement, he hadn’t taken the same precautions with his heart.

Maybe it was time to jump out of bed and make for the hills. Go while the getting was good.

Then again, maybe he was worrying over nothing more than a blip. As great, as sublime as he’d felt when Mia was wrapped around him and he was coming with a force that left him shaken, that didn’t necessarily mean he’d gone and fallen in love. It wouldn’t happen just like that, with the snap of fingers, because that would be precipitous—like jumping-off-a-cliff precipitous.

Insane.

And not necessary. Because Reid liked his life exactly the way it was.

Recalling that pertinent fact, he exhaled in relief. And when his breath sent one of her crazy curls floating upward to land lightly on his shoulder, he even managed a grin.

The solution was obvious. He needed to keep things between Mia and him as light as that wayward curl of hair. All things considered, it shouldn’t be difficult to manage.

Decision made, he dropped a kiss on the tip of her stubborn nose and then another on her softly parted lips. Nope, he had nothing to worry about.

* * *

When Reid reopened his eyes, he noted three things in quick succession. First, Mia hadn’t budged from her angled sprawl across his torso, and that was good, very good. Second, the sky had lightened. Not so good. It was time to get to work. He wasn’t leading a trail ride this morning, but there was still plenty on his to-do list. He, Ward, Pete Williams, their foreman, and Carlos, one of the ranch hands, were going to check the cattle in the upper pastures. Third, someone was banging on the front door. Annoying as hell. Though the sun was up, it was way too early for social calls.

Mia raised her head and blinked at him. “What’s going on?”

She looked adorable, with her hair sticking out all over the place and a confused frown furrowing her brow.

“Not a damned clue,” he said, lifting her off his chest and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stood and grabbed his pants, shoved his feet into them, and zipped the fly. “Stay here. I’ll go shut the idiot up.” Afterward he’d sprint back upstairs and wake her up properly.

“No, wait!”

But he was already jogging down the hallway and then taking the stairs two at a time.

The pounding on the door continued.

He opened it with a snarling demand of “What the hell,” only to give an exasperated shake of his head. “I should have guessed. Don’t you have a trail ride to lead?”

“Nope,” Quinn said breezily. “Mom volunteered to take my place when I told her what I had planned for Mia this morning. She approved wholeheartedly.” She grinned at his naked torso. “Something tells me she’ll be real happy about this turn of events—”

He crossed his arms. “Which, unless you have a death wish, you are not going to share with her.”

“Come on. As if she hasn’t figured it out. You know, she’s moved on to Tom Jones tunes.”

“Tom Jones?” This was not good. Soon she’d be singing Celine Dion. “Listen, don’t encourage her. I don’t want Mom to start planning my wedding—”

“Quinn? What are you doing here?” Mia said.

He and his sister turned. Mia was standing on the last step. She’d obviously leapt out of bed right after him and yanked on a pair of jeans and a shirt. From her carefully blank expression, he got the bad feeling she’d overheard his and Quinn’s exchange.

But before he could even begin to formulate a sane explanation for his mother’s nutty ambition to see her three children married and making babies, Quinn brushed by him.

“Hey, Mia,” she said. “Glad to see you’re up. You had breakfast yet?”

“Uh, no—”

“No worries, we can grab a coffee from Spillin’ the Beans and still make it on time.”

Mia felt as if her brain had been chopped into quarters, with each part in fierce competition. One was still reliving the hours of pleasure Reid had given her. Another was trying to remember whether she’d actually made a date with Quinn. She was pretty sure she hadn’t. The third part was struggling to hide her embarrassment over Quinn’s finding Reid and her. It kind of amazed her that Quinn seemed so unfazed by the situation, as if it were all perfectly normal. Then again, Quinn didn’t always react as expected. And the remaining segment of her brain? It was on repeat, blasting Reid’s words:
I don’t want Mom to start planning my wedding
.…

Of course he didn’t. Last night might have been the stuff of dreams for her, but that didn’t mean she was expecting him to go down on bended knee. For Pete’s sake, she wasn’t sure they would even be spending another night together—as far as she could tell, the two times Reid and she had ended up in bed had been fueled by impulse, an immediate and unstoppable need. Perhaps last night had been enough for him and now he was ready to move on to his next conquest.

The thought was like an icicle stabbing her heart.

Luckily, Quinn’s presence provided a distraction.

“Make it where on time?” Mia asked.

“I’m helping out at the animal shelter this morning,” Quinn replied. “I thought you might enjoy the chance to get away for a few hours and come with me. Once the harvest starts, there won’t be many breaks for you, right?”

A mild understatement. She and the crew would be working nonstop to pick, sort, de-stem, and crush the grapes at their peak ripeness. “We won’t be gone more than a couple of hours?” she asked.

“Tops,” Quinn said with a nod. “I promised I’d pick zucchini blossoms for Jeff. He’s planning a special appetizer for the guests tonight. So, you game?”

Mia suddenly realized that she was being offered the perfect means of avoiding any awkward morning-after conversation with Reid. “Just give me a few minutes to wash up, deal with my hair, and put on a pair of shoes. And I need to write notes to Paul and Roberto and Leo and Johnny—oh, and Vincent needs his kibble.” She turned, intending to dash into the kitchen.

That’s as far as she got.

Reid caught her, looping his bare arm about her waist. “Just a second,” he said. “Quinn, go be useful and feed Vincent breakfast.”

“Sure thing.” Raising her voice, she called, “Vincent! Chow time!” and headed down the hall to the kitchen.

Reid hadn’t removed his arm. The heat from his body had transferred directly to her cheeks. Darn, it looked like she hadn’t escaped the awkwardness of listening to his explanations and excuses.

“Come over here.” He pulled her into the living room and dropped onto one of the faded floral armchairs. She landed in his lap.

When she opened her mouth in an embarrassed protest, he kissed her. For a long time.

Raising his head at last, he gave her a lopsided grin.

“Morning, Mia.”

She pursed her lips. “Good morning, Reid.”

“Man, I love it when you go all prim and proper on me. Listen, last night—”

Dread flooded her. Here comes the “it was great but I’m not ready for a commitment” speech, she told herself. “Yes, it was fun. I had a good time. Thanks so much.” She made to slide off.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He drew her back against his chest. “It was fun. I had a good time, too.” He pushed her hair aside and nuzzled her neck. Shivers skipped down her spine. “I want to see you again.”

“Again?” she asked warily, even as her heart lifted, helium-light.

“Yeah.” He pressed a kiss against her jaw. Who knew she had so many nerve endings there—he did, obviously. “I like this thing between us. It’s good. Don’t you agree?”

“I suppose you mean this ‘thing,’ ” she said. And despite her better judgment she squirmed, rubbing against his very obvious “thing.”

For a second he went still. She didn’t know why. From shock, perhaps. Then she felt his lips curve against her skin as he kissed the spot just below her ear. “I’m glad
you noticed.” His quiet laughter fanned her damp skin. “So why don’t we just see where this takes us? Okay?”

She was pretty sure that was Reid-speak for “I like having sex with you, but I’m not into commitment.” Could she handle that? She’d have to. Although she knew that in the end she’d likely watch him walk away, calling it quits was beyond her. She wanted to hoard the joy he gave her like a miser with his gold until the day he said goodbye.

“How about it, Mia? Does being with me work for you?” His teeth closed about her earlobe, nipping lightly. “Say yes,” he whispered, and then flicked his tongue over the sensitive spot.

“Yes,” she moaned.

“Smart girl.” He cupped her chin and brought his mouth to hers, slipping his tongue inside and thrusting slowly until she was gripping his bare shoulders and returning his kiss, rubbing her tongue against his.

A shout interrupted them. “Time’s up, Reid. Let her go.”

He ignored his sister and continued to kiss Mia, releasing her only when they were both breathing heavily. “I’ll come by later.”

“Okay,” she managed to whisper.

“Okay, then.” He raised a hand to stroke her hair and then pushed a lock behind her ear, grinning boyishly when it sprang free. “You’ve got the most amazing hair.”

She attempted to smooth it. “Yes, so I’ve been told. Jungle vines, right?”

His grin widened. “Absolutely.”

“You know, flattery might get you somewhere,” she told him as she slipped off his lap.

“That so?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Do me a favor and don’t let Quinn bring too many animals home. You’re one of the few people she might listen to.”

“A tall order, but I’ll try.”

He rose, too. “Thanks. And, Mia?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll be thinking of you. A lot.”

By some miracle she managed to stay on her feet. “That works.”

“Best part? It’s true.”

The trip to the rescue shelter took less than twenty minutes even with a lightning stop to pick up a triple skim latte for her and a double espresso for Quinn, who was hard-core when it came to her caffeine fix. While Mia sipped her coffee in an attempt to reenergize her system after a night of shattering pleasure, Quinn downed hers in four quick gulps, scrolled through her iPod’s playlist until she found the one she was looking for, and gunned the truck’s engine. Los Lobos’s
How Will the Wolf Survive?
filled the truck’s interior.

Five rockin’ songs later, Quinn pulled into a parking lot in front of a nondescript one-story building that had a wooden sign with a dog running and a cat licking its paw and the words M
ENDOCINO
C
OUNTY
A
NIMAL
R
ESCUE
painted between them.

The bells attached to the front door chimed as it opened, which set off a round of frenzied barking from somewhere in the building. The noise didn’t seem to disturb the dark-haired woman sitting behind the counter, a cellphone pressed to her ear while she jotted something on a pad. She glanced up, saw Quinn, smiled, and waved her through. Quinn made a beeline for the door to the woman’s right.

Mia followed, sparing a glance at the colorful array of collars and leashes hanging in rows and at the metal shelves filled with cat and dog beds in a variety of sizes
and materials, feeding dishes, and cans and bags of pet food. Two large baskets held plush toys and balls.

They walked down a short hallway lined with pictures of cats and dogs with their smiling new owners.

“Nice place,” Mia said.

“Purgatory, actually. Lorelei and Marsha try their hardest for the animals—that was Lorelei behind the desk. Marsha’s the director. She’s probably doing rounds.” Quinn pushed a door and the barking erupted again.

“Pipe down, everyone. Quinn’s here now,” said a woman in faded jeans, a plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves, and beat-up running shoes, her attire as comfortable as her weathered face and short-cropped gray hair. “Hey, Quinn, glad you’re here.” She turned to Mia. “You must be Mia. I’m Marsha. Thanks for spending the morning with this pack. A lot of our regular volunteers are on vacation.”