Authors: Delka Beazer
Jett’s head snaps up, his eyes are flint hard, “that’s not true,” he laughs a harrowing, derisive sound, “but I wish to God that it was.”
Reeling from his words, I’m unprepared for how fast he closes the distance between us. Startled, an involuntary cry rasps from my throat. He immediately stills and my terror drains away as his hand slowly descends to my upturned face. His rough fingers flutter to my cheeks, skirt the bridge of my nose and the edges around my quaking lips. His touch beckons me to tilt my head back into it.
He sighs wearily, “don’t you know I’d never hurt you?”
The tears I’d been holding in finally come. Tumbling over his fingers on my cheeks. This is why I’d stuck around.
A chance to win back his friendship. To stay in his life. And it’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.
I squeeze my eyes closed, feel my lids start to ache with the pressure. I fight not to reach for him. To touch him like he’s touching me.
He solves my problem for me. Draws me to him inches at a time, a gentle nudging that tells me he’ll let me go the moment I resist. His hands cupped around my cheek are warm and dry.
I surrender to the gentleness in him.
I move and my knee brushes his inner thigh. He moans, the sound is pained and needy. He grunts impatiently and hauls me the rest of the way so that I smack up against him with a muffled whoosh.
He rests his chin on the top of head and sighs with contentment, “What’re we gonna do, Ang?” he sounds as bewildered as I feel. And beneath it all I hear what hurts him so much, he doesn’t want to want me, but he does. I shudder against him desperately praying that he doesn’t wake up and toss me away from him. I couldn’t bare that, not after touching him again.
I don’t answer because I know there isn’t one. I take a half step closer and settle deeper into him, breathe in the fresh, coolness of mountain air sunk into his shirt. “Just hold me now,” I plea.
He obliges and lifts me higher, I wrap my arms about his broad shoulders and we don’t move for a long time.
Chapter fourteen
“Wake up!” Jett calls in my ear.
“What?” I mutter irritated. I turn from the sound to the relative peacefulness of the other side of my warm pillow.
He grumbles something beneath his breath and rips off the warm sheet from my body.
I yelp and bolt upright, shoot daggers up at him standing smug in well-worn wrangler jeans, a white chambray shirt tucked neatly in and the scuffed leather boots that he loves.
I squint behind him to the bedroom window, the sun’s just rising!
He grins diabolically at me, “get your lazy ass up and get crackin.”
I swing my legs off the bed, both our eyes fall to my naked legs. Sleeping in boy shorts has always been my thing. Jett looks away to the safety of my face, his grin is back in place, though it’s strained around the edges.
He tucks his thumb into the waist of his jeans which ride low on his lean hips, “I’ve got the horses saddled and packed for a day trip.”
I open my mouth in delight, then close it with a frown, “Thanks but I can’t leave Teag behind,” I glance at Teag’s white crib in the corner but he’s missing.
Jett harrumphs and stomps across the room to the door. He jerks an impudent brow at me. “Neither will I,” he says and leaves the room.
I watch the door swing softly shut behind him, and rub the last of the sleep from my eyes.
Thirty minutes later I’m outside, Teag attached securely to my back with a sturdy old Native American baby sling that Marjorie had used for both Colt and Jett. Marjorie had already given Teag breakfast when I came downstairs.
She startles me as she steps out of the kitchen door and comes over to me. Without warning she gives me long hug, then drops a kiss on Teag’s cheek, she steps back her eyes beaming, “Have fun.”
Jett helps me to mount my horse and then he does the same. We ride for about an hour in total silence. And I love it. The clean wind whipping past my face, the smell of fresh earth. It’s all so good. I soak it up greedily. Since Teag’s birth I’d not gone riding for long distances because I couldn’t stand being alone in the mountains anymore.
I shake off the grim thoughts and look around me. We’re heading west.
Jett looks over and grins at me. “Love it?” he asks.
I smile back, feeling light and alive again. “More than words,” I say and reach over to brush my hand on his leg. His smile disappears, replaced by a frown. Embarrassed I drop my hand, gulp down the knot of pain in my throat and look ahead, trying to imbue my voice with a light banter I prod him, “Where are we going?”
He points up ahead to a distant clump of hills that looks green and small from where we’re at. “Up to a spot where I’ll be working for the day,” he replies carelessly.
I drop my reins in shock, then snatch then back up. My eyes light up, “You’re a Forest Ranger?” I ask disbelievingly.
He bellows with laughter, his blue eyes dance with happiness, “I did take four years of forestry, engineering, biology-”
I punch him in the arm to make him shut up.
“Ouch,” he laughs and shoots me a wounded look.
I’m so delighted I give a fist pump of happiness. I want to stop and give him a hug and that’s just what I do.
Jett’s eyebrows shoot up as I pull firmly on the reins. My horse rears a little, Teag supremely indifferent on my back mews but subsides immediately. I slip down and rush over to Jett.
He’s on his feet and he meets me halfway, his eyes full of inquiry. I throw my arms around his neck and cling to him, laughing and splattering his face with kisses. He doesn’t respond at first. He stills and then he thaws and begins to kiss me back. He dots me with the same soft, little pecks I’m tossing all over his face.
Then he’s really kissing me. He captures my mouth, tugs on my lips and before I know it, he’d demanding entry and his tongue it sweet and ravenous, sending short, quick stabs into my softness. Shudders rip through me, want clenches my insides and hot on the heels of that comes doubt. I shove him back and we stand panting and facing each other.
He opens his mouth, I stop him with a wave of my hand as I fight to catch my breath, “It’s my fault,” I apologize, “I’m just so happy for you,” my eyes beam up at him, “you did what you were going to do.”
He covers the small distance between us. He tips my chin up, “So did you,” he says quietly. His blue eyes glow with sincerity.
I gulp and snort, “What? Like screw your brother, drop out of college and get knocked up?”
His mouth curls to the side in a grudging half smile. He holds my challenging gaze, “yeah,” he says simply. He goes back to his horse and mounts.
Two short stops to stretch our legs and six hours later with the sun already slipping from its perch in the sky we arrive at the cabin where Jett will do a few hours’ work. We’ll spend the night before heading back. It’s a two roomed cabin, perched on a short hill overlooking a dusky pine covered valley. A single fireplace juts from its side.
Jett unloads the saddlebags from the horses and secures them in a little corral at the back of the cabin. I step inside. A neatly made queen bed packed with colorful quilts sits in one corner beside a window, on the other side of the room is a small bunk bed with guard rails and a mosquito net hung from the ceiling above it. A small kitchen is at the front of the cabin. I go over and grab a glass from a cabinet. I gulp down two glasses of water that leave an iron taste in my mouth.
Jett comes into the room and comes straight to me. He helps unlace Teag from my back and then goes to quench his own thirst.
I go to the bathroom, freshen up and when I come back Jett’s gone. I nurse Teag in a rocking chair stashed in the cozy corner by the fireplace. Teag is asleep before I put him down in the bunk bed.
I rummage through the saddle bag, get out Ziplocs of cubed beef and vegetables for dinner and put them on to simmer. I sit and wait for thirty minutes but no Jett. I check on Teag one last time and head outside.
The wooden porch runs across the face of the cabin, the boards creak beneath my boots as I go down the steps.
“Jett?” I look around and spot a tent by the horse corral. Going over to it I pause.
“One sec,” Jett calls from inside, he comes out.
I touch the tent, not looking at him, “I thought we’d share the cabin,” I say quietly.
“No,” he responds and walks past me to a rock that hangs over the pine valley beneath us.
“Why?” I ask as I move to join him.
He stares out into the valley. “Do you have to ask that?” there is a note of underlying anger in his voice.
His rejection stings. I straighten up, pissed now. “Go ahead and sleep out here on the damned rocks and see if I care,” I snap.
He swings around to me, his eyes sharp, “If you didn’t care you wouldn’t be hissing like a cat,” he retorts calmly.
Bullseye.
I wince, try to think of a dozen way to get him to come back to the cabin. I settle on the most practical. “You can have the bed if you want. I don’t mind the floor.”
Jett’s back is to me again and it stiffens, the muscles go rigid beneath the thinness of his shirt. “It’s not the floor I want beneath me,” he admits roughly.
I tense, stop and then everything inside me floods with a rush of searing heat. I can feel it burning on my cheeks and I’m grateful that he’s looking away from me.
It strikes me like a fist in the gut to realize that before all this I’d seen him as my best friend first, boyfriend second. But now he’s watching me like a man, slow and methodical. A burn begins in my belly.
I step up to the rock beside him, reach for his hand hung tense at his side. He flinches at my touch, then squeezes back reassuringly. I nuzzle the sleeve of his shirt, and savor the scent of fresh sweat and clean skin mingled with the musky odor of horse caught in his clothes, “I would like that.”
My world stops. The world with just me and Jett freeze beneath my feet, even the sound of the twilight breeze languorously swirling down off the mountainsides pause to listen.
Jett turns achingly slow down to face me. His mouth is a white line, his black brows wing low over eyes that are now impossibly blue. His focus narrows on my mouth, then eyes. “You want to fuck?” he demands crudely, his eyes take on a sardonic look. “What if I told you that may be all I’ll want from you?”
I stiffen and would’ve launched backwards but he grips my hands firmly and won’t let me retreat. His eyes arrow down into mine, his mouth twists in self-contempt, “I’ve had other women but …” his eyes grow dark and confused. He sucks in a ragged breath, then looks at me with all the pain I’ve inflicted on him fresh in his lean face. He shakes me softly, “they all wear your face,” he groans and drops my hands.
I try to stand as straight as I can so that he doesn’t dwarf me as he stands silent and dark. His eyes are the only visible points of vibrant turmoil in his face. My chin trembles as gut wrenching fear grips me.
Strangely I get where he’s coming from. He doesn’t want to be hurt again, by me. If this is all there is for us. I
will
live with that.
“I’ll risk that,” I say and I’m surprised by how strong my voice is.
His closes his eyes. I move up behind him and wrap my arms about his lean waist. I rest my head in the middle of his tense back and breathe deeply.
There’s no going back.
Chapter fifteen
We eat the stew in silence at the small dining table in the kitchen as twilight sets in.
Teag chuckles and coos on my lap, splatters Jett with some mashed pumpkin. I stifle a nervous laugh, “Sorry?”
Jett mumbles something around a mouthful of stew. Waggles his brows outrageously at Teag who responds with a belly laugh.
The meal finishes. Jett stops me with a brown hand on my arm from picking up his plate, “I’ll clean up, take care of Teag.”
I keep my eyes averted from his and scurry into the bathroom with Teag. A warm tub, another bout of nursing and Teag drifts off again in minutes.
I tip toe back into the main room and place him on the top bunk.
Jett’s done cleaning up and he’s leaning beside the entry door. His eyes track me, I feel it flickering at the base of my neck and skimming down the middle of my back. I try to stand straight, blush as I wonder if he’ll find my body much changed. Nursing has made my breasts fuller, but I’d slimmed down even beyond what I was when we’d first met. Ranch chores will do that.
“Come with me,” he breaks the silence, holds out his hand.
I gulp and go to him, then stop and look back at Teag.
Jett bends down to the ledge of the window closet to the dining table, scoops up my baby monitor. “Don’t worry, we’ll be just outside.”
Jett locks the cabin. I follow him down the steps. He stops at the bottom of the steps, and grabs an ax from underneath the porch. Confused I follow him around the side of the building to the back.
He stops beside a pile of tree trunks that reach shoulder height. They are stacked neatly behind the cabin which sits on an uplift of land that tumbles down into a thick, green forest.
Comprehension dawns, “You’re going to chop firewood at night?”
He shrugs. “It’s part of my job. And it’s less sweaty that way.” He points to one of two small buildings off to the side which stand yards apart, “Get me a flashlight from that shed?”
A musty, wild animal scent hits me as I open the door to the shed. Feeling around in the dark I catch a switch hung from the ceiling and yank it. The light comes on and tools pop up on every surface of the wall. Lamps and flashlights sit side by side on a top shelf. Grabbing a large, upright flashlight I head back to him.
He takes it, turns it on. Lifts his ax and heads over to the pile of trees. Half a dozen swings later he’s halved it. He hauls it back to a tree stump and goes to town on it. Sharp chips fly through the air as the metal bites down into the still soft flesh of the tree.
“Take off your shirt,” the words are gruff, harsh and at first I think I must be having a daydream because Jett would never say that to me.
I look up quickly to make sure my assumption is correct and find him staring pointedly at me, not a flicker of a smile on his face, and there’s no denying he said it.
I open my mouth and air whistles out, I try again and shake my head to clear it and get a logical thought together. “What did you say?” I squeak.
He brings the ax down again on the wood, cleaves it in half. The decapitated side falls away obediently.
Jett grins but there is no warmth in his face, only a focus that’s dead serious and fixed on me. He picks up another piece of log and sets it square in the center of the chopping block. Overhead a nightingale begins to whisper its plaintive beautiful melody. Tingles race down my spine, I close my eyes and for a moment peace comes through.
Then Jett slams home the ax into the wood, breaking the spell. He grunts and scrubs a hand across his forehead. He quirks a challenging brow at me, and a slow smile creeps across his hard mouth which does little to soften the harsh line. “You heard me, take your blouse off real slow.”
Cornered, I can’t pretend to misunderstand him any longer and from the stubborn set of his wide lips, I wouldn’t get far if I tried. The thought flashes across my mind that I can just walk away. This doesn’t have to happen. But then … I don’t want to. A thrill of awakened nerves plump up across my body, sending impulses racing through my body. And I react, the cool night feels colder against my heated cheeks, my breasts plump up with a rush of sudden need.
I break eye contact with him to hide even just a little of what I’m feeling, though now I’m not so sure that I can thwart him. I lift a trembling hand to the top button on my shirt and start to peel them open, one by one, I tilt back my head and I’m careful to keep my fingers away from the throbbing underside of my full breasts. I push the shirt open down to my navel as the last button slides open.
Twack, twack
, the discordant notes of the ax soaring through the air falls abruptly silent.
Shivering I peek one eye open and he’s watching me, his mouth pressed into a rigid line. His forehead is furrowed and his hands on the ax handle flex and bunch with tension.
A thrill goes through me, washing away some nervousness. I close my eyes again and start to peel the shirt off my shoulders. I pause as an embarrassing thought crosses my mind.
“Why did you stop?” he grates out the words instantly.
Not so in control is he? But the thought does little to soothe my anxiety because I’ve got bigger problems.
I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see his disgust, then mumble, “I’m wearing a nursing bra … they’re not exactly hot,” I chew my bottom lip in embarrassment.
His hoarse groan makes my eyes fly open. He’s still frozen in place, the ax is stuck in the stump and he looks like a bull that wants to charge but can’t decide how great the danger is.
A vein throbs in his temple, his eyes devour my modest, white nursing bra which to my utter shame has two small, wet circles around the nipples. Mortified I bite my lip and turn away.
“Stop,” he commands, “do you know how beautiful you’ve always been to me? Sometimes seeing your smile hurts like looking at the sun,” he growls.
Shocked, I can only stare at him openmouthed. I’d never known. We’d talked about sports, finals but never that he’d thought I was
that
beautiful. I’d been afraid that he’d liked me mostly because we could laugh together.
I hug myself, unable to look away from the burning sincerity in his eyes. “You’ve never said that to me before.”
He laughs, a desperate sound, “I’m not the same man who sent you away.”
Old hurt stabs through me, I sternly remind myself not to cry, I give a jerky nod, “I know.”
He nods solemnly, eyes on me and doesn’t speak.
I lick dry lips to moisten my parched throat and he groans again as if I was the one that requested this form of torture.
I watch him standing tense and poised, waiting. And I realize that he doesn’t want to take the first step.
I reach for him and at the same time retreat into myself, embrace the needs coiling inside my body as they take over. I look up and silver stars fill my eyes. I rub myself against his heated chest and cup my hands beneath my full, aching breasts. Shudders ripple through me, they arch my back in a rictus of painful pleasure. Gasping I start to unhook my bra. His iron grip stops me.
I blink my eyes open.
“Sorry,” he mutters, he loosens his grip just a fraction but doesn’t let me go. Instead he pins my hands to the small of my back and with his blazing hot breath on my face, he takes over the job of undoing the hooks. The bra falls to our feet. He leans close and my nipples are engorged with need as they brush against his chest.
It’s like tendrils of fire down my spine at the first brush of the warm, prickly hair on his wide chest swipes across me.
He’s bending down to the side of my neck, his mouth already open in hunger for my taste, he flicks a surprised glance at me, “does that hurt?”
I watch him staring at my neck, his mouth open, his tongue already tasting me through the air between us.
“No,” I gasp, then tip my nose up to his, suck in a gulp of his scent. It’s mysterious and wild, there’s nothing at all sedate or easy about him any longer.
He shudders as I draw back, his eyes narrow then his attention flicks back to my neck and he’s had enough waiting. He dips down, I cry out as the searing tip of his tongue flickers from the base of my neck up to the delicate region behind my ear. He grips my hair impatiently and pushes it back. Gasping from the onslaught I grab at his chest, my fingers slip on the slick muscles and I claw higher, wind my arms around his neck.
My eyes roll back in my head as his curious tongue rakes over the shell of my ear, then sucks the tip of my lobe into the wet heat of his mouth.
“Jett!” I gasp convulsing with pleasure
He ignores me. Switches to the next ear. I grip fistfuls of his hair to anchor myself and surrender myself to it. Slowly he pulls back and I watch him through eyes heavy with desire.
He reaches down and two hard, callused hands cradle my aching, full breasts.
I flinch, muffle a low scream as exquisite sensations knife through my nipples down to my core.
He chuckles huskily, his eyes gleam. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear those sounds from your lips?”
I blush and catch my lip and bite down into it. Shuddering, I nod.
“Forever,” he muses quietly. “I can’t stop imagining you in my arms.”
He picks me up and takes me not to his tent but to the cabin. He places me tenderly on the bed, pulls off my boots, my jeans but leaves on my panties. He does the same. Then he gets in beside me.
Spoons himself at my back. My butt rests up against the rigid bulk of him behind me. The friction sends a rush of moisture to warm my clit. Stiffening, I strangle a groan and press back onto him, offering.
He groans, nips my ear with just enough pressure to make me yelp.
“No,” he says softly, then sighs with regret. “Right now I just want to hold you. Okay?”
Stunned, I bury my face into the softness of the pillows. I don’t know whether to cry or jump from the bed. He’d always been tender but I don’t feel like I deserve this delicate care that he insists on wrapping me in.
He apparently thinks otherwise because his strong, warm hands go around my middle. At my back his heart beats a steady, strong rhythm.
I’m awed that even for just this moment, he simply wants us to hold each other.
To be together.
As sleep draw closer to me, I know with my last spark of lucidity that this is where I belong.
Teag’s kittenish cry makes it through my cloud of sleep. I turn and for a moment, panic races through me at the heavy weight draped across my shoulder.
I turn, open my eyes. Pitch black darkness floods in. I can’t see a thing. I bolt up. Memories from Jett putting me to bed earlier flood my mind.
Teag whimpers again. Not a cry of pain but hunger. I stumble from the bed, stub my toe on a piece of wood at the foot of the bed. Cursing I stick out a hand and walk blindly towards Teag’s cry.
A light flashes on, “Ah!” I stifle a cry and turn to look at Jett who’s sitting on the bed, a tiny flashlight aimed at the ceiling above Teag’s bed.
I smile weakly and go over to the bunk bed. A half hour later, Teag’s sound asleep again.
And as I turn around to go back to the bed, I realize too late that the beam of Jett’s flashlight has crawled down from the ceiling above the rocking chair where it had rested while I nursed to my face, then lower to my breasts. It inches back up past my face to the ceiling.
Skin prickles at the back of my neck as my legs make contact with the soft, cotton sheets. The flashlight goes off as I slide up beside him.
Boldly, swallowing the pile of doubts choking me, I burrow back into his arms. He opens them for me.
I wait.
Breath trapped in my throat. Heartbeat climbing with every breath I take. The pitch black darkness of the cabin coats us, thick and velvety.
In the warmth of his arms, I’m both lost and acutely so alive that the sound of air in my lungs is swift and harsh between us.
Without warning I’m being lifted up as Jett rises with me in his arms.
Soft heat comes to my eyelids, cheeks, then the tip of my nose. He’s kissing me gently, slowly as though time is trapped here between us and he can take as much as he wants.
My palms burn to grab his face and kiss him the way I’m suddenly dying to with my lips and tongue and even the soul that’s within me, but I crush it. He wants me to be still, he’s renewing what had been and now would be again between us and I stay still hypnotized, knowing that our future together lies in his hands, his fingertips and what he feels through my skin as his touch circles leisurely down from my face to the column of my throat.
He grunts with need. “Your skin feels like a silken waterfall,” he breaths into my ear, catches the lobe between the gentle pressure of his teeth.
I gasp, my eyes open wide in the darkness. I fight the urge taking hold of my body making me tremble, not to reach for him. To make myself wait for his touch.
His mouth lifts away, then he bends to my neck and a cry escapes me before I can stuff a fist into my mouth as the firm swipe of his tongue travels the length of my throat, from base to tip and back again.