Texas Heat (12 page)

“We're too filthy to go in the front,” Jake said, and led Savannah around to the back door. Inside the small laundry room and porch area, the boots came off first, then Jake's shirt and Savannah's jacket.

Savannah looked down at herself and groaned. She was covered with mud, nearly as much as Jake. “It's hard to believe people pay money to take baths in this muck,” she said with disgust.

It suddenly dawned on Savannah that they were both going to have to strip. Right here. In front of each other. When Jake reached for the button on his jeans, she turned away, her face hot.

“This is no time for modesty, Savannah,” he said wearily. “I have no intention of sitting around here all day until we dry. We've both got to get into a hot shower.”

She glanced at him sharply. He grinned as he pulled his zipper down. “You can go first.”

They left their clothes in a dirty heap on the laundry-room floor. Savannah, in her bra and panties, padded to the bathroom while Jake, in his briefs, followed close behind.

She stood outside the bathroom, hugging her arms to her. “You go first,” she insisted.

He frowned at her. “You're shaking so hard your teeth are rattling. You go first.”

She shook her head. “You're the one who almost died, Jake. You go.”

He clenched his jaw and started to turn away, then abruptly turned back and grabbed her arm. She gasped as he pulled her into the bathroom. “This is ridiculous. We've both seen each other, Savannah, and I'm too damn tired to jump you right now, anyway.”

“Jake—”

She gave a little shriek as he scooped her off her feet and set her in the shower. He stepped in with her, then turned on the water. It sprayed out hot and steamy and felt so good that, despite the circumstances, Savannah relaxed a little.

The bottom of the tub turned brown as the mud washed off them. Jake stuck his head under the shower head, then moved out of the way for Savannah to do the same. She felt silly showering with her underwear on, but as flimsy as it was, it still offered a tiny bit of comfort. Jake, however, was not so bashful. He tugged off his briefs and soaped his entire body. Her throat went dry at the magnificent sight of him, and she had to tear her gaze away before he caught her openly staring at him.

He was true to his word, though, and never once made a move toward her. Or even looked at her, she realized, with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

After they dried off, Jake wrapped a towel around his hips and Savannah around her torso. He started to leave the bathroom, but she took hold of his arm.

“Sit here,” she said, flipping down the toilet lid. “I want to look at that cut over your eye.”

He looked in the mirror. Blood seeped from the gash, which was starting to darken to a purplish blue. “It's just a scratch, for God's sake. I can—”

“Sit.” She pointed at the makeshift medical seat.

With a heavy sigh, Jake gave in to Savannah's firm request. From the determined look on her face, he realized he had little choice. The pain from the cut was minimal, though. Nothing compared to the pain he'd just experienced taking a shower with the woman. Just knowing she was inches away from him, nearly naked, had his stomach in knots. He hadn't dared to look at her once or he would have lost it completely.

He watched her now as she bustled about the bathroom, grabbing hand towels from the linen closet, then antiseptic and bandages from the medicine cabinet. Her skin glowed from the hot water and her cheeks were flushed.

When she bent over him and cleaned his wound with a hot washcloth, he swore between clenched teeth.

“Does this scratch hurt?” she asked with sweet sarcasm.

He glared at her. Her fingers worked over him, and when she applied the antiseptic, he jerked away and swore again.

She frowned at him and took hold of his chin with her hand. “I can't do this if you don't sit still, Jake. Concentrate on something else.”

That wasn't a difficult request, though he doubted she'd intended his thoughts to stray where they did. Her hand was soft and warm against his chin, and without thinking she'd worked her body between his legs. He stared at the soft white mound of flesh just above the knot on her towel and felt himself start to harden. He could pull that knot out with his teeth, then take the firm peak of her breast into his mouth...

When she leaned even nearer, he closed his hands into fists.

“It's almost stopped bleeding,” she murmured, her brows drawn sharply together as she examined the cut.

Her hair was a mass of wet curls around her pale face and the scent of peaches filled his senses. Her knee brushed against his thigh and he sucked in a sharp breath. The storm raging outside was like a drizzle compared to the storm raging inside him. “You shouldn't have gone out there, Savannah,” he said gruffly.

Her delicate brows lifted as she reached for a bandage.

“A thank-you might be more appropriate. You'd be doing the backstroke right now if it wasn't for me.”

He needed to hold on to some of his anger or else he'd be pulling her into his arms. “A storm like this is dangerous, Savannah. What if something had happened to you? Did you ever think about Emma?”

She went perfectly still, then drew a slow breath. Her fingers were shaking as she pressed the bandage on. “I obviously wasn't thinking at all,” she said tightly. “I assure you it won't happen again.”

She started to turn away, but he grabbed her wrist. “Savannah, I'm—”

“I'd leave that on for a couple of days,” she interrupted him. “It shouldn't get infected, but you'll probably have a scar.”

“Savannah, don't. I didn't mean—”

“You'll probably have a doozy of a headache, too, so—”

“Savannah. Stop it.” He pulled her to him, and when her knees started to buckle he hauled her onto his lap. She didn't resist, just laid her head against his shoulder and trembled. He felt like an idiot, being so harsh with her when she'd just saved his life.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered against her neck. “The thought of anything happening to you scares the hell out of me.”

“I didn't think of Emma,” she said so quietly he could barely hear her. “I was thinking about you.”

He brushed the wet hair away from her face. “Thank you.”

She smiled weakly. “You're welcome.”

He couldn't help but think how well she fitted against him. He tightened his hold on her and she snuggled against him.

“You almost died, Jake,” she whispered so softly he could barely hear her.

“I didn't.”

She pulled away and looked into his eyes. “But you could have. How can you live like this? Face this kind of danger every day?”

He laughed softly. “Funny, when the security guard at your town house had to open those gates for me, I asked myself the same question about you.”

She smiled, then nodded slowly in understanding. Her eyes softened as she touched his cheek with her fingers. “Don't let it happen again. Emma needs both of her big brothers.”

He wanted to ask her what
she
needed, but he already knew the answer. It was the one thing he couldn't give her.

He had three days before Savannah and Emma left. Time was a precious commodity, and after what had nearly happened to him this afternoon, he realized he didn't want to waste one minute of that time.

Savannah sighed at the feel of Jake's hand moving gently up her back. He'd nearly died this afternoon, and here he was, comforting her. She might have laughed at the thought, but the tiny circles he was making with his fingers overrode the myriad emotions coursing through her.

What had Digger said about standing between raindrops and keeping dry? It was impossible. Literally and figuratively. She loved Jake, and it was just as impossible for her to deny that.

She didn't want to think anymore of what was right or wrong. It simply was, and she accepted it. She leaned into him with a sudden desperate need to feel him closer. His lips brushed her forehead, and she felt as if she were turning to liquid. No one before Jake had ever made her feel this way before. No one ever would again.

His hot breath fanned her cheek and he whispered her name. He'd brought the storm in with him; she could smell it on him, feel it in the air that surrounded them. Her heart was pounding as furiously as the rain on the roof, and when she lifted her face to his, his mouth closed over hers in a kiss more powerful than ten storms.

She moaned into his mouth, meeting the thrust of his tongue with her own. His arms closed around her, pulling her tightly against him. He tasted her, and she him, again and again, with an urgency that left them both gasping.

He tugged her towel away.

Jake's hand moved up her spine and she arched her back, biting her bottom lip as his mouth closed over her breast, sucking at her through the thin lace of her damp bra. His teeth lightly raked her nipple, and she felt the heat of his breath on her skin. Sensation after sensation shimmered through her, and a knot of passion deep within tightened and loosened, tightened and loosened, alternately turning pleasure to pain and pain to pleasure.

He unsnapped the front clip of her bra and pushed the thin lace out of his way. His tongue traced the outer softness of her nipple, then the pebbled tip itself. Her fingers raked through his wet hair and over his shoulders. His muscles rippled and bunched under her fingers.

His mouth caught hers again and he stood, bringing her up with him and setting her on the edge of the counter.

“Touch me, Savannah.” His breath was ragged. “I need to feel your hands on me.”

His eyes, dark with passion, closed when she laid her hands on his chest. She could feel the thunder of his heartbeat. She pressed her mouth to his skin, and the masculine taste of him aroused her even more. He shuddered as she moved over him, exploring the hard planes and valleys of his muscles. She felt a power she'd never known before, a strength she'd never dreamed she'd possessed.

His hands cupped her bottom and he pulled her against him, pressing his arousal tightly against her. She started to pull the towel from his sleek lean hips and remove the terry-cloth barrier between them, but he pushed her hand away and lifted her in his arms, holding her gaze with his as he carried her into the bedroom. He lowered her until her feet touched the floor and, with his eyes still locked with hers, slowly removed her panties, then tugged the towel from his hips.

Lightning flashed, bathing the room in silver. Thunder rumbled. She watched as he turned and reached into the nightstand. Was it the storm? Savannah wondered a moment later as he eased her gently back onto the bed and slid into her. Or was it the force of their lovemaking?

He whispered her name and liquid heat poured through her, setting her skin on fire. He moved slowly inside her, painfully slow, and she whimpered her distress. Didn't he know how badly she needed him? She moved her hands over him, tempting him to hurry, begging him to hurry, but he ignored her, taking his time. It was maddening. It was exquisite.

At last, his own desire became as uncontrolled as hers. His hands held her hips tightly against him and he thrust wildly, powerfully. She matched him, and he filled her, not just with his body, but with his very soul.

And when the coiling tension inside her exploded, she screamed his name, arching her body into his. He crushed her to him, groaning deeply, his rigid body shaking with the force of his release.

She held him tight, hanging on not only to Jake, but the moment.

* * *

The rain settled to a gentler, but steady downpour. Jake listened to the soothing sound of the quieting storm and realized he must have fallen asleep. Savannah was asleep, as well, nestled in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder and her warm body flush with his.

He'd never been so thankful for a storm in all his life.

He gathered her closer to him, refusing to think about what might have happened if she hadn't found him this afternoon. She had, and that was all that mattered. He'd face a dozen storms if this was where they led.

She stirred and slipped a long leg over his. The movement made his breath catch and he marveled at how soft and smooth she was, how right it felt to hold her like this, as if she'd been made to fit exactly him, only him.

“You awake?” he asked quietly.

“Hmm.” She pressed her mouth to his chest and her fingers moved over him, soft as a whisper, hot as a branding iron. His pulse jumped, then raced as her lips moved downward and caressed the sensitive skin of his stomach.

“Savannah...”

His fingers closed over her shoulders and he sucked in a sharp breath. Her tongue glided over him, tasting, probing, setting his blood on fire. The outside world fell away and there was nothing but increasing sensation. His eyes shut and his breathing grew harsh and ragged.

Her teeth lightly raked his skin, then nipped. She moved over him and her hair fell across his stomach like a silken curtain. Pleasure, more concentrated and more intense than he'd ever known, radiated through him. It was impossible to think. All he could do was feel.

His hunger for her drove him wild. With a sharp exclamation, he pulled her upward and dragged her beneath him. She wrapped her legs around him as he moved deeply inside her, and he heard her call his name over and over.

Her moan shredded the last of his control. Thunder and lightning and flash floods were child's play compared to the explosion shattering his senses. Savannah clung to him as he cried out, and they were as one when the shock wave vibrated from his body to hers.

When the world righted again, the room was swathed in darkness. Jake heard the heavy beat of his heart over the sound of the rain and felt the gentle rise and fall of Savannah's breathing. She lay beside him, her head on his outstretched arm.

“Are you all right?” he asked her when he was capable of speech again.