“Erica?” Olivia called and Erica stopped at the door. “Lyle secured the bank on his side of the river and added some rock where it dipped in the middle. Wear those new rain boots you’ve got by the back door and be careful crossing when it gets dark.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Erica called and slammed the door.
“I thought she’d never leave,” Jack said and dove for Olivia’s neck. If he didn’t smell her soon, he might combust.
“You weren’t exactly being subtle.”
“She was as eager to leave as we were to have her gone. I don’t mind an audience, but I don’t want to have to be quiet.”
“I do mind an audience,” Olivia said. “And I don’t like her feeling uncomfortable.”
“She’s fine. Let her go fix things with Lyle.” He lifted her off her chair and placed her on the table.
“We can’t go to the bedroom?” she asked.
“I thought you didn’t want to be a foregone conclusion.” He stepped inside her open legs and reached behind her to push the dishes out of the way. “I want you sprawled naked on this table. I’m as hungry for you as I’ve ever been for a meal.”
“Let me stack the dishes in the kitchen. They’re going to fall off the table.”
“I don’t care. I want you. A few broken dishes won’t stop me from having you.”
She leaned back when he cruised his hands over her breasts. If she didn’t hurry, he would rip the material from her body. “I don’t know why your caveman routine is so appealing,” she said on a moan. “I shouldn’t be so willing to do whatever you ask.”
“Whatever I ask?”
She sat up, gripped his head, and wrapped her legs around him, trapping him inside the cocoon of her body. He felt something weave itself around him, as elusive to catch as smoke. “Anything. I’ll do anything to have you. All you have to do is ask.”
Love me.
The words erupted from his heart, shot up his aching throat, and melted on his tongue before he could say them. He wouldn’t ask. For a man who’d made his living—his life—on taking risks, he finally found one too dangerous. “Give yourself to me,” he said instead. “I want everything you can give me.”
She nipped at his lips. “I’m yours. I’m yours, Jack.” She clawed at his clothes, pulling buttons, his belt, the zipper on his jeans.
He couldn’t say what his heart felt, but he could show her. The more frantic she became, the more his blood thickened and his pulse beat for her. He trapped her clever hands behind her back and took over, savoring where he’d meant to ravish, drawing out her pleasure instead of rushing into her warmth. He would tell her with his body what he couldn’t say with words.
She bowed back when he lifted the dress over her head and flicked at the clasp on her bra. Still holding her hands, he took one taut nipple into his mouth and then the other until she was writhing in a harmonized rhythm. Her skin was so soft, so alive under his fingers and lips. He’d asked for everything and she gave it and more.
She let out a surprised laugh when he lifted her. “Where are we going?”
He carried her to his room. “The bed. If I have to go back here for a condom, you’re coming with me. Unless you want the table?”
“I want you,” she said as her hands burrowed into his hair. “Any where, any time, any way you want.”
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, yes, and yes.” He turned on the light on his bedside table and fished a condom out of the drawer. Before he could sheath himself, she grabbed the condom and tossed it onto the bed.
“Let me,” she said and cruised those lips over him.
The scent of her wound up and surrounded him in a dizzying haze as she devoured him with her lips and her hands. Everywhere she touched, he trembled. Everything inside of him went thick and heavy. Emotions, never set free, bubbled up and rained over him. “Olivia.” Her name was all he could say, all he could think as she brought him higher than he’d ever soared before.
Impatient and teetering, he flipped her over, grabbed the condom, and was inside of her before she destroyed him with her taunting. Something just out of reach floated closer, teasing him as he drove them both nearly insane with his slow, methodical pace. He couldn’t rush, didn’t want to end the torture too soon and lose hope as he grasped for the elusive prize. With Olivia, the pinnacle didn’t feel like an ending, but a beginning, an opening of a door long shut. Knowing he couldn’t turn back, he gave and gave and gave until he poured himself into her with a deafening cry.
She quivered beneath him, her breath coming in pants. “Jack.” She pulled his head up from where he’d buried it in her hair. “Jack.” She showered him with kisses. His nose, his forehead, his ears and cheeks. She nipped at his jaw and held his head, searching for the answer to what made them feel so completely connected, so indelibly in tune.
As sanity returned, he knew he’d turned a corner. It was Olivia. Olivia was the answer.
Chapter 45
Lyle couldn’t believe how far he’d come since his decision to fix up the old hunting cabin. What had seemed like an overwhelming endeavor sat almost fully realized. Light blazed from every fixture and the hum of a refrigerator buzzed like music to his ears.
Dodge slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, you’re just about there. When will you move in for good?”
“There’s no rush, but I’m anxious to fill this place with furniture.”
“What furniture?” Dodge asked.
“I’ve got a bedroom suite. Mom said I could have the old couch in her office since she wants a new one.”
Dodge’s brows shot beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. “Oh, she did, did she?”
Lyle knocked his elbow into Dodge’s side. “You don’t want me sitting on the floor, now do you?”
“I’m fine with it. Apparently your mom’s not.” Dodge scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I’m going to be stuck getting that old thing out of her office and over here.”
“I’ll help,” Lyle said.
“You’re darn right you will. Your mom promised I wouldn’t have to move any furniture. I should have known she was telling you one thing and me another. Story of my life.”
Lyle only shook his head. His mom, from the first moment they met, had exasperated Dodge. Everyone knew he’d move heaven and earth to make her happy.
“You okay on food? Your mom’s got a big pot of chili going back at home.”
“I’m good. I’ve got peanut butter and jelly.”
“You’re passing up chili for pb&j?”
“I want to get the kitchen clean now that the appliances are in. Tell mom once the fridge is cold, she can send leftovers my way.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to say anything for that to happen.”
A knock at the open door had them both spinning around. Lyle’s mouth hung open at the sight of Erica holding an armful of food. “Hi,” she said as her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink.
“Hi,” Lyle said back. “I didn’t hear you come over.”
“I wasn’t sneaking. I don’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not. Erica, this is Dodge, my stepdad.”
Dodge held out his hand but ended up patting her shoulder when he realized her hands were full. “Nice to meet you, Erica.” Dodge turned around and gave Lyle a wink. “I’m gone. Your mom’s chili is calling my name.”
Erica stepped tentatively inside to let Dodge pass. “He looks like a movie cowboy.” She watched him saunter to his truck.
Lyle smiled. “He’s a cowboy, all right, and he’ll love it when I tell him you said so.”
“Don’t tell him! I was just making conversation.”
“What have you got there?” Lyle tipped his head toward the plastic container in one hand and the bag of bread dangling from the other. His stomach grumbled.
“Chowder. I made too much, and our fridge is full. Olivia said you had power and were spending the night. Figured you wouldn’t turn it down.”
“You figured right.” He reached for the container and their fingers brushed. Her eyes flew to his at the sensation of skin touching skin. At that moment, he knew every second of frustration she’d caused since walking into his life was worth the aggravation. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, sort of. I started, and then Jack and Olivia were all over each other, so I got out there fast.”
He reached for the container after nabbing the bread from her hand. “You want some more?”
She looked around. With her hands empty, she didn’t seem to know what to do with them. She crossed her arms, then dropped them to her side, and finally shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “No, but you go ahead. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”
Lyle didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed a plastic spoon from a small stash he kept in the drawer and dove right into the container. “Wow, that’s good. And hot.”
“You’re not going to use a bowl?” she asked.
Lyle shook his head and reached for a bottle of water to ease the sting. “Don’t have any yet. Man, Erica, you should open a restaurant.”
“Anything would taste good if you only had pb&j to look forward to.”
“Trust me, food’s my thing. Well, eating it, anyway. Everything you make is better than any restaurant I’ve ever eaten at.”
“Then you need to eat at nicer places.”
Lyle watched her amble around the den, running her hands along the plastered sheetrock.
“Are you going to paint this or leave it white?”
“I’ll paint it. Eventually.”
“What color?”
Lyle shrugged and took a bite of spongy bread. He dipped it in the soup and took a bigger bite. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
“Me?”
“You have an opinion, don’t you?”
“I guess. If it was me, I’d want something to soften it up a bit. Maybe a nice tan color. Something natural and not too fussy.”
“That’s just what I was thinking. Maybe you could help me pick something out? My mom’s got one of those paint wheels with all the colors in it. It overwhelms me.”
She shrugged. “I guess.” She dropped her hand and looked him in the eye. Something about the way she held herself, the way she lifted that chin in the air, had him standing up straight where he’d slouched against the counter. “I owe you an apology.”
“For?” he asked, even though he knew. Olivia had told her the truth.
“For thinking you told Jack about the wind study. I was wrong and I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s it? You aren’t going to tell me how wrong I was? How I should have trusted you?”
“I figure you know that already, hence the apology.”
“Hence… there you go again with those fancy words.”
“Sorry if the way I talk bothers you.”
“It doesn’t. I’m getting used to it. I know you’re not as stuck up as you sound.”
Lyle almost choked on his bread. “Thanks. I think.”
Their smiles faded, and they ended up staring at one another with three feet and a mountain of unsaid words between them. “I’d better go.”
“Go where?” The thought of her leaving sent a bolt of panic down his spine. “I thought Jack and Olivia were going at it back at your place.”
“They are, but I’m sure they’re in the bedroom by now.”
“Why don’t you stay? You can keep me company while I clean.”
“I don’t want to be in the way.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I thought you’d be in the way.” He set the empty container in the sink and popped the last of the bread in his mouth. “I can put some music on and you can entertain me by singing along.”
“I’m not going to sing,” she said with a laugh, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to help herself. “I can help. Most men don’t know one end of a mop from another.”
“I’m not going to let you help. I just want your company, but if I’m using the wrong end of the mop, feel free to point it out.”
“Lyle, I used to clean for a living. It’s not beneath me.”
“Cleaning isn’t beneath anyone. If you’d helped make the mess, I’d expect you to clean, but since I managed to do this all on my own, I’ll do the cleaning.”
“So, what am I supposed to do? Sit here and watch?”
“Turn some music on.” He pointed at the MP3 player he’d plugged into a speaker in the corner of the den. “Think about what colors would look best in each room. Talk to me.” He shrugged. “Unless you’d rather go home and listen to your brother and my roommate have sex.”
“Talk about what?” she asked after making a face like she’d just tasted a lemon.
“Tell me about Denver.” He didn’t care what she talked about, but he wanted to hear her voice. Ten minutes ago, he thought he’d never be so close to her again. With the night stretching before him and Erica in his home, he felt more relaxed, more himself than he had in weeks.
Somewhere in the first hour, she picked up a rag and went behind him when she said he needed to be more thorough. By the second hour, they were elbow to elbow in the bathroom tub, laughing over the fact that Lyle was covered in water. When Erica splashed him and soaked his shirt, he grabbed her wrists and forced the sponge from her hand. As the laughter died from her face and they knelt only inches apart, their magnetic attraction pulled them together despite him loosening his grip so she could easily slip away. “You’re going to pay for that,” he said and watched her bite into her plump bottom lip.