“Perfect.”
He popped them both open, set them next to the popcorn, then grabbed me and lifted me to sit on the counter. Settling in a comfortable position between my legs, he kissed my forehead. I was quickly growing used to that wonderful little gesture that made me feel special. I let a passing thought slip through my brain that he must really like this particular position. Perhaps I’d have to explore just how much after I downed my beer to instill some false courage.
Sliding the bowl over, he started feeding me kernels of popcorn, and then he’d take a bite for himself. In between, I sipped my beer, letting it go straight to my head.
After a while, Mark pushed the popcorn aside, took the almost empty brown bottle from my hand, and moved it out of the way. His hands worked their way from my knees up my thighs. He leaned in and gave me a long, slow, dramatic kiss, tasting like beer and salt. My body responded instantly.
I laced my fingers through his hair, kissing him deeply, with our tongues caressing and moans coming from both our throats. He found his way to my panties, and I took my hands away from his hair long enough to brace myself up so he could pull them away. They hit the floor, followed almost instantly by my oversized t-shirt and the blue boxers.
Mark gave me a wicked smile, reached for the black raspberry jelly, and popped open the lid. Dipping one finger inside, he took a small glob of jelly and smeared it around my nipple. I opened my mouth to say something—probably something really stupid—when his mouth covered my breast as he licked and sucked away the jam. It was so naughty, so scrumptious. I almost came on the spot.
And my mother always told me never to play with my food.
He kissed me again. I could taste the lingering sweetness in his mouth. Wrapping my legs around him, I realized what a perfect height the counter was, hoping he intended to use it wisely. As he eased his cock inside me, I let a satisfied gasp escape my lips.
After a few moments of easy movement, I wanted more. I wanted it rough, and I wanted it
now
.
Mark must have sensed my needs as he picked me up and fairly slammed my back against the wall, saying something about “better leverage.” He pounded into me as my body absorbed and savored each thrust. I let myself drown in the eddy, the whirlpool pulling me to a mind-melting release.
Somewhere in the Michigan woods, I’d found a little slice of heaven.
CHAPTER TEN
It had been an awfully long time since someone woke me with kisses. Okay, it had actually been never. Mark was pressed against my side, slowly rubbing circles on my bare stomach while he tickled my face with soft kisses. How easy it would be to get used to this.
I smiled and rolled into his arms, still hardly believing I’d slept entirely nude. He pulled me closer and tried to kiss my lips. “I’ve got morning breath,” I whispered against his shoulder as I ducked his attention.
“So?”
“You don’t care?” Not only did I probably have funky breath, my short hair was surely standing up in fifteen different directions, especially considering how active we’d been the night before. The only time we hadn’t been naked was for a quick trip for food. When we got back to the cabin, we’d left a trail of clothes right back to the bedroom. I had to look like a disheveled—
“You’re thinking too hard again, babe.”
I laughed at that, stopped hiding against his shoulder, and kissed him, morning breath and all. And it was wonderful.
Mark playfully pressed his pelvis toward mine and realized that the sun wasn’t the only thing that rose that morning.
“Again?” I asked, not entirely sure how I’d like him to answer.
I really wanted a shower and an enormous cup of coffee. We had, after all, been up quite a bit of the night, and I was sure I looked terrible with day old make-up and raccoon eyes. We’d been a bit too busy for me to wash it off.
I suddenly didn’t give a damn because he didn’t give a damn. He wanted me anyway.
With a growl, he kissed the spot where my shoulder meets my neck. I was always so ticklish, I couldn’t help but giggle. “Seriously, Mark. I’m not sure I’m up to it again.”
He pressed against me and gave me a naughty smile. “I’m up to it.”
“I can see that. Do you want me walking around bowlegged all day?”
Another kiss on the same spot elicited another giggle. “Fine. Later then. I could use some coffee anyway.”
He threw the sheet and blanket aside and walked gloriously undressed toward the bathroom, his erect cock bobbing with each step. I hoped he hadn’t heard my appreciative and entirely immature sigh. That ass was perfection. Hard muscle. Flawless. So was his front. I could actually feel myself blush just admiring him and thinking how much he looked like some gorgeous Calvin Klein model.
How in the hell had I made a man that looks like that want me?
You’re thinking too much, Jackie.
When he came strolling back from the bathroom, I jerked the sheet up to hide my own nudity. The cover of darkness had taken away some of my normal timidity, but the morning light made all of my imperfections way too obvious.
Reaching into his duffle, Mark pulled out some clean boxers. My stars, I loved a man who wore boxer shorts. There was simply nothing attractive about tightie-whities. At least I had always thought so, until I pictured Mark in a pair. Yeah, I’d have to rethink that whole notion. Of course, Mark would be sexy in a potato sack.
He took a seat on the edge of the bed and gently ran his hands over my shoulders. I squeezed my arms hard against my side to hold the sheet up under my armpits. He ran a finger across my collarbone, tucked it between my shrouded breasts, and deftly pulled the sheet down. I squealed and reached for the blanket, but Mark grabbed my shoulders and held me back. Then—with a slow and deliberate gaze—he stared at my body. I could literally feel my blood warm to his perusal. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his reaction, knowing my breasts weren’t nearly as firm as I wished, that my waist had all but disappeared with time, and that those stretch marks two pregnancies had left on my lower abdomen hadn’t faded as much as I had always hoped.
“You’re so beautiful.”
My eyes snapped open as I framed some sarcastic retort. “Yeah, right, and—”
His kiss stopped the sour words. Not a simple kiss, but the kind he had drugged me with last night. The man was as addictive as meth.
As he pulled away, I cupped his cheeks in my hands. “Wow.” I forgot all about the sheet.
A smug smile crossed his lips. “Two choices. You get up, get dressed, and have some breakfast with me—or I pick you up and carry you into the kitchen, and we eat naked.”
“I’d hate to have you see me naked and ruin your appeti—”
He kissed me before I could finish the sentence. The man refused to let me say anything derogatory about myself. He had entirely disarmed me. A long kiss later, I nodded, got out of bed, and grabbed my abandoned clothes. Messy hair and all, I sat across the kitchen table from Mark and ate the omelet he made.
While he cleaned up the aftermath of our meal, I popped in the shower and then got dressed. The air had a definite chill, and I shivered as I fished my blow dryer out of my duffle bag. I figured my typically uncooperative hair would make me look an awful lot like Buckwheat, so I dried it and arranged it best I could since I forgot my hair gel.
I was shaking a little bottle, preparing to slap on a heavy layer of foundation when Mark came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He put his chin on my shoulder and smiled at me in the mirror.
“Don’t bother, babe. You’re prettier without it. No one around but me, and I love you just the way you are.” I could see the anticipation, the longing in his eyes.
I love you
.
Damn it all anyway.
Mark had said the three words that could send me running faster than a fox being chased by a hound. A man’s love never brought me anything but heartache. Why couldn’t we just have fantastic sex and not muddy the water with declarations of things he didn’t really feel?
That guard of mine snapped right back into place, bringing with it the sarcasm that was its constant companion. “You sound like Billy Joel.”
His reflection frowned back at me, and he squeezed my waist almost too tight. “You don’t have anything to say to me?”
I love you too. More than you could possibly know.
But the man was going to stand there for a very, very long time if he was expecting me to lay my heart bare simply to have it shredded and handed back to me on a platter.
David had taught me a brutal lesson that I intended never to forget. Men confuse love and lust. They say the former when they really mean the latter.
No, thank you
. I wasn’t going through
that
again. I wasn’t about to tell him how I felt. I would get hurt.
“Jackie?” Those brown eyes were getting darker. I’d forgotten Mr. Yummy had a temper. Judging from his expression, I was just about to find out to what extent that temper could flare. “After what I said, don’t you want to say
anything?
”
I shoved my make-up back into the case without applying any. “I know. How about we go for a hike? Maybe we can see some deer.”
Mark turned around so fast he almost knocked me over.
I reluctantly followed him into the bedroom, hoping there wouldn’t be a storm.
Grabbing his duffle bag, he muttered under his breath the whole time he pulled out clean clothes and threw them on the still unmade bed. I couldn’t catch everything he was saying, but I sure got the gist of it.
I was cold. I was unfeeling. I was stubborn.
Gee, Mark. Haven’t we met before? I’m Jackie Delgado. The most stubborn woman you’re ever likely to know.
“I’m not cold,” I finally grumbled. I rooted around in my bag for my birth control pills. Not that I’d need them anymore.
Mark took his clothes into the bathroom and slammed the door hard enough to make the pictures on the wall jiggle. I decided I needed to put some space between us for a little while.
I tugged on my boots, grabbed my jacket, and set out for a long, long walk. I needed to clear my head, and I needed some fresh air. If I didn’t get the hell out of there, he was going to wear me down. I was going to confess all that I felt, and I was going to get hurt again because he couldn’t truly love me.
Even though most of the trees had shed their leaves, the woods were still beautiful. I loved the tall trees, the autumn sunlight, and the clean smell of outdoors. I hiked hard and breathed deeply, hoping to untangle the mess of thoughts that were weighing on me.
Now what?
I knew I loved the guy—had almost started loving him from the moment he pulled his car over on our first date to scold me. I’d loved him from the moment he slid that butter across the table when I’d pushed it out of my reach. I’d loved him from the moment he first kissed me.
I brushed away a few tears and damned myself for forgetting my iPod. Without music blaring in my ears, all I could do was think.
His voice echoed in my head.
“You’re thinking too hard again, babe
.
”
Sorry, Mark. It’s what I do.
I began to list the reasons why he couldn’t possibly love me.
“I’m past my prime.” Okay, that was bullshit. Last night proved it.
I’d never enjoyed making love so much. I’d never felt my body respond so readily and so warmly before. It was the best sex of my life. I might have always joked that I looked old, but I had to honestly admit I wasn’t
that
bad. No gray. No major wrinkles. I might not be model thin, but I wasn’t exactly ready for a gastric by-pass either. My intellect was as sharp as a chef’s boning knife, and I could still make people laugh when I tried. I had a lot of good years left.
Maybe Mark appreciated all those qualities.
I tried again. “He still loves Elaine
.
”
That wasn’t a good reason. It wasn’t as if I should have expected him to walk away from her grave and act like she had never been a part of his life. If he was like that, I couldn’t possibly love him. Mark had room in that huge heart of his to keep her memory and still be with me. Last night proved that too. I refused to give in to the nagging voice that whispered, “It was just lust.” It wasn’t just lust. Mark and I had connected on a very special, very emotional level. Of course, he still loved Elaine. But he could love me, too.
The devil’s advocate in me refused to shut up.
Your personality will wear him out. It’ll kill his love just like it killed David’s.
Then it hit me hard and fast.
I
hadn’t killed David’s love for me—
David
had.
His mid-life crisis had been more important to him than I’d been, than our marriage had been. It was my own insecurity that wanted to blame me. It wanted to blame my boisterous nature, my changing body, and my domineering personality. What did those have to do with David’s need to feel young again, to fuck a girl young enough to be his daughter?
Not a single, solitary thing.
“It wasn’t all my fault,” I said to the trees. Then I shouted it. “It wasn’t all my fault!” I suddenly felt free.
Mark’s voice sang in my head.
“I love you just the way you are
.
”
Had he meant it?
Could Mark possibly love me as much as I loved him?
Because, God help me, I did. I loved him more than my own life. I wanted to wake up with him every morning exactly the way I had today. I wanted to fall asleep snuggled up with him every night. I wanted to grow old and wrinkled with him. Visions of grandchildren floated through my emotionally overwrought brain, grandchildren we would share and spoil.
“But am I brave enough to tell him?” That was a tougher question, so I decided to ponder that while I hiked a little longer.
I glanced up to the sound of an obviously active woodpecker. That moment of inattention was more than enough for a clumsy person like me. My friends liked to joke that I could trip over the crack of dawn. My ankle rolled as I trod over a tree root. I was sprawled on the ground before I really knew what happened.