Yesterday's Magic (23 page)

“Everything.” She smiled at him.

A shudder passed through his big body. He
stood up and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her up,
tight against his body. He slipped a thumb under her bra strap.
“You’ve got the oddest undergarments,” he whispered, his mouth
close to her ear.

“And as much as I admire them,” he added, “I
want you to take them off. I would offer to help, but I’m not sure
how this works.”

She reached up and guided his hand from her
bra strap to the back hook. He fumbled with it and had to crane his
neck to get a better look. Finally, the catch released and she
heard him sigh in apparent relief.

She rolled her shoulders forward. The straps
slipped down on her arms and suddenly, her pink bra was lying on
the floor.

The man had his mouth open and there was a
light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Beautiful,” he said. His
voice cracked.

Feeling bold, she slipped a finger under the
waistband of her bikini panties. “May I?” she asked.

He swallowed hard and nodded.

She shimmied out of her panties and left the
silk lying in a pile on the floor. She stood before him, naked, and
absolutely confident. “You look warm,” she said.

“Is that so?” His voice sounded weak. It made
her smile.

“You should probably take your shirt off.”
She grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and yanked upward on the
material. Then very deliberately, she eased the tips of her fingers
into the waistband of his pants and freed the rest of his shirt.
She let her fingernails scrape his skin and smiled when his body
jerked in response.

He reached for the hem, to pull his shirt
off, but she pressed his hands down to his side. “Let me,” she
said.

With a hand on each, she rolled up the shirt.
With each roll, her knuckles brushed against him. He stood still as
a statue and his breaths in and out were shallow and erratic.
Finally, she pulled his shirt over his head, messing up his
uncombed hair even more. She tossed his shirt over her shoulder.
Then she stood close enough to him that when she swayed, the tips
of her breasts rubbed against him. His skin was warm and the light
dusting of hair tickled her.

Heat shot through her, pooling at her center.
Lord, she wanted to have sex with this man. She wanted to hold his
body close, wrap her legs around him, and screw him blind.

But first she wanted to take a nice long
look. She stepped back, assessing. His chest was broad, his abdomen
absolutely flat, and there was a thin line of hair that started
just below his belly button and disappeared into his pants.

So hot. And she was pretty sure he had no
idea how truly hot he was which made him even hotter. She licked
the tip of her finger and touched his chest.

“What?” he asked, his tone guarded.

“Just seeing if you sizzle,” she said. She
felt practically giddy. She survived the damn storm. She’d faced
big odds and she’d come out the winner. She felt powerful.

She reached for his belt buckle. He stepped
back and reached out one large hand to still her. “Bella,” he
began.

She pushed his hand aside. No. She wasn’t
stopping. She wasn’t reconsidering. She wasn’t asking. She looked
him in the eye. “I said, let me.”

He stared at her. His glorious chest rose and
fell in uneven, noisy breaths. Finally, he nodded and closed his
eyes. She knelt in front of him and reached again for his belt and
unbuckled it. When it hung loose, she started to unbuttoned his
pants.

One button. Two. The third and final button.
She looked up. His eyes were still closed. His chest was no longer
heaving—she thought perhaps he’d stopped breathing altogether.

She slid her hands over to his hips, slipped
her thumbs underneath the heavy material of his pants, and pulled
them down. Inch by inch.

Oh, the man had some glorious inches. His
fully erect penis evidently hadn’t gotten the message to behave
because it pulsed with energy as it was bared.

Fabulous. He was a fabulously formed man.
Unable to resist, she leaned forward and ever so delicately licked
the tip. His entire body jerked and she felt very powerful.

“Christ Almighty,” he moaned. He reached
down, gently grabbed both her wrists with his hands, and pulled her
to her feet.

“Dance with me, Jed,” she whispered. She
wrapped her arms around his neck.

He stepped out of his pants, kicked them to
the side, and pulled her close. He laced his arms and rested them
on the curve of her butt. Their naked bodies were pressed together
and she could feel him pulsing against her.

They swayed, as if one. She rested her cheek
against his collarbone and pressed her lips to his neck. His skin
was faintly salty and he smelled of outdoors. She ran her tongue
across the strong pulse in his neck and smiled when he
shivered.

Hot wanton need flowed through her and she
thought she might not survive it. The need to mate, to be
physically connected, was overwhelming.

She reached her hand between their bodies and
gently cupped him. He was hot and heavy in her hand.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” he said. “Enough.”

He shifted, so quickly that she couldn’t
react. He picked her up. With one arm under her knees and the other
supporting her back, he carried her over to the bed. He gently
tossed her on it and sank down next to her. His mouth found her
breast, his fingers slipped inside of her, and she realized that
the balance of power had truly and gloriously shifted.

***

When she woke up, the fire had burned down.
The room was colder but since Jed’s big body was curled around her,
spoon-like, she wasn’t a bit cold. He lifted her hair off the back
of her neck and kissed the tender skin there.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Fabulous. Magnificent. Well-loved.
She
started to tell him but stopped. She, famous for never hesitating
and always speaking her mind, was suddenly afraid to share too
much.

It was going to hurt to leave Jedidiah McNeil
and while it was probably foolish, she wondered if she kept her
thoughts to herself and didn’t expose her soul by confessing that
he’d rocked her world, it might make it easier for both of
them.

“Happy. Tired. Grateful,” she added. “You
really did save my life tonight.”

She rolled over onto her back. He continued
to lie on his side with one arm lazily moving over her rib cage.
For a big man, he had a gentle touch. Her eyes traveled from his
hand, up the length of his strong forearm, and stopped rather
abruptly an inch above his elbow. He had a jagged scar, several
inches in length.

She pressed two fingers against the healed
wound. “What happened?”

He never changed expressions but his eyes,
which minutes before had been clear and focused, now looked
troubled. “It was a long time ago.”

“I didn’t ask when,” she said. “I asked
what.”

He shook his head, looking resigned. “I broke
my arm.”

That didn’t make sense. Unless… “Oh, Jed. Was
the bone sticking out?”

He swallowed hard. “Yes. Look, it doesn’t
matter. Why don’t you tell me what happened last night?”

He was clearly changing the subject but she
let him. The past hours had been so wonderful that she didn’t want
to ruin them now. “Freida woke up and seemed to have a fever and
she was disorientated. Earlier in the day, I’d heard about Bessy
Forth who died after breaking her leg. I got scared.”

He drew figure eights on her stomach and she
started to get a familiar itch in a place that had been well and
truly scratched.

“Bessy Forth is eighty and she’s been sickly
for the last ten years,” he said.

“Those details might have been helpful but
I’d have probably still done the same thing. I got dressed, hitched
up the horses and was soon on my way to town. I lost track of time
but maybe we’d been traveling for fifteen minutes or so when the
horses suddenly stopped. They were bucking and I almost got tossed
off the wagon.”

“That’s when you saw the bear?”

She looked at him. “How did you know about
the bear?”

“When I found you, you told me about it.”

“Oh. I don’t remember that. My brain was
probably mostly frozen by that time.”

He leaned into her, his thigh resting against
her thigh. “It appears to have thawed quite nicely,” he said.

It was a light, easy comment but she could
hear the concern in his voice and it made her stomach have a
strange feel. “Well, anyway,” she said, not wanting to read too
much into his concern, “once the horses stopped bucking, they took
off running. I lost hold of the reins and grabbed onto the wagon,
hoping like crazy that I could stay on it. We started crashing
through the trees and suddenly, the wagon and I were flipping
over.”

The hand on her stomach stilled. “I’m not
sure I want to hear this,” he said.

“I landed about ten feet away from the
wagon.”

He sat up suddenly and stuck his hands under
her thick hair. He groped her head.

“What?”

“I didn’t know,” he said. His eyes were
panicked. “I should have checked for head injuries. I should
have—”

“Stop,” she said. She smiled at him. “I don’t
have a head injury. I’m fine.”

He pulled his hands away and lay back down.
His eyes were less troubled but the muscles of his body were still
tense. “Go on,” he said.

“Okay. Well, somehow the horses had come
unhitched because I probably didn’t have them hitched up right to
begin with and suddenly, they were nowhere to be found.”

“Sunshine must have wondered back. She’s safe
and sound back at Freida’s.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. I was worried about her.
Anyway, when I couldn’t find either horse, I figured my best bet
was to try to dig myself into the snow, to try to stay as warm as I
could. I remembered that Freida had taken a rolling pin from the
store—she’d said she needed it to bake a pie for Thomas. By some
crazy luck, the rolling pin was still there, lodged under the seat.
Once I found it, I started banging on the wagon. I didn’t know how
far I was from the road and I figured it was a long shot that
anyone might be going by, but I couldn’t just do nothing.”

He sat up suddenly again and leaned over her.
“You saved you own life,” he said.

She felt warmth spread through her. At one
point, she had been sure that she was going to die. When she’d been
so tired of digging snow that her arms would barely move and she’d
been sick to her stomach with fear, dying hadn’t seemed like such a
horrible alternative. She’d been tired and wet and scared and she’d
wanted it all to go away. Then, she thought about all the people
that were counting on her—Freida, Averil, her father—and she’d
known that she needed to fight with every bit of strength she
had.

“I’m proud of you,” he said.

He had no way of knowing that was the nicest
thing he could have said. “Thank you,” she whispered. She felt
vulnerable, as if she was standing at the edge of a very steep
cliff and a force was pushing her over the side.

She did what she’d been doing for years when
anybody got too close. She redirected.

She let her eyes deliberately stray and
linger on his small, flat nipples. Then travel down his belly and
settled on his half-hard penis.

He lightly gripped her chin and forced her to
look straight into his eyes. “Don’t try to distract me, Bella. You
were damn lucky,” he said. “If Rain hadn’t come to town, I’d have
never known to look for you.”

“I’m glad you did,” she said. “I’m glad about
everything that’s happened tonight.” It was the closest she could
come to laying her cards on the table.

“Me too,” he said. He stroked her arm. “Are
you too tired?” he asked.

“For?” she asked, suddenly feeling the need
to tease this man who was serious too much of the time.

He chuckled. “Checkers. What did you think I
was interested in?”

It was her turn to sit up suddenly. Her full
breasts swayed and she heard his hiss of breath. It delighted her.
“I’m not interested in Checkers,” she said.

“I reckon I could be convinced to try
something else,” he said.

“I know a game you might like.” She pushed
gently against his chest. “Lie back.”

He’d stretched his big body flat on the bed
and she knelt next to him. Then she lowered her head and took him
in her mouth.

“Oh, Christ,” he said. “I love this
game.”

She woke up when she smelled fresh coffee.
Jed was dressed and standing near the fireplace. “Good morning,”
she said.

“Morning. It’s early but I suspect Freida
will be worried.”

She stretched her arms over her head. “I
can’t move,” she moaned.

His head jerked up. “Was I too rough?” he
asked.

She smiled. “The first time? The second? Or
the third time?”

He didn’t answer at first. When he did, it
was as if he’d thrown a bucket of cold water on her. “I didn’t mean
for this to happen.”

Okay, so breakfast banter wasn’t his thing.
“I know that Jed. Maybe that’s what makes it even better.”

He turned and poked at the fire. She waited
for him to turn around again but he didn’t.

“Jed?”

“You better get dressed. I’m going to go get
the wagon ready.” He threw down the poker, grabbed his coat and
hat, and was out the door before she could move.

Perhaps the sheriff needed more coffee. She
stood up and reached for her scattered clothing. The movement made
her leg and arm muscles scream in protest. She might not have a
head injury but she could definitely tell she’d been tossed out of
a wagon. Moving more cautiously, she pulled on her underwear and
her dress. She was just putting on her socks and shoes when the
door opened.

“Ready?” he asked.

He didn’t look any happier than when he left
so she decided to forego conversation. Instead, she nodded. She
gathered up Freida’s extra sweater and wadded it up into a ball.
She suddenly felt emotional, as if tears were lurking