He reached behind me and shoved a breadboard and a half-eaten loaf farther up the surface. The board scraped, a knife clattered. The thing I loved about Liam was he could switch from strong protector to determined lover in the blink of an eye. Once he had his mind set on making love to me, like he had on the way home last year, nothing—not even an earthquake—could distract him. He became like a man possessed, a man intent on his mission. Oh, and I always enjoyed his missions.
“This. If the twins were here we couldn’t do this.” He curled his hands into the waistband of my pants and yanked them down my thighs. He let out a grunt and shoved my pants completely over my feet, leaving me wearing nothing but my underwear, my sweater and my yellow woolen wellie socks.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t?” I asked with a grin and glanced at my sun-kissed thighs dangling over the edge of the table.
“No.” His voice turned deeper. “And definitely not this.” Another yank and my knickers hit my knees. The black curls of my pubic hair sprang out and a buzz of excitement whooshed to my clit.
“Gonna have to do something about that,” he said, swiping his hand over my intimate hairs and pulling, just a little. Enough to make me squirm in part pleasure, part discomfort. “Later, with the razor. I’m gonna make you pretty and smooth and then I’m gonna lick you from top to bottom, savoring every tiny bit of you.”
“Mm,” I said on a lusty giggle. “I’m already looking forward to it.” Kicking off the knickers, I reached for his belt buckle. My fingers fumbled with impatience and my heart pounded in anticipation. Liam was right. If there was one consolation to our daughters going to boarding school it was that my husbands and I could get down and dirty whenever the mood took us. A summer break of muffling our groans and padding the back of the headboard had gotten old. We had lost time to make up. Lots of lost time.
Another tug freed Liam’s leather belt and I yanked at the fly buttons on his jeans.
His mouth caught mine in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue delving in fast and 10
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urgent—a wild, frantic, breathless tango of tongues. I tugged his hot, thick cock from his boxers and gripped it in a tight fist. He groaned and pressed his body forward, forcing me to lie back.
As my head hit pine, I dragged my fist up the solid length of his shaft and smoothed my thumb over the broad head. A small drip of moisture sat in the slit and I spread it over and under the ridge, delighting in the texture and warmth and the fact I could get him producing pre-cum so quickly.
“Ah baby, I love your hands on me,” he said, dragging my sweater up so he could suckle my nipple through my thin satin bra. “Always so sweet.”
“Liam,” I gasped, angling my hips upward and wrapping my legs around his body, twining my feet in their fluffy socks together in the small of his back. I was greedy for him, desperate for penetration. Liam’s big cock never failed to fill me, satisfy me, make me thankful for him being alive. “Please, Liam, now,” I begged and positioned the head of his cock at my wet entrance. I rubbed over his engorged veins with my fingertips and tried to stuff him into my pussy, swallow him with my quivering, wet lips. But he held himself just out of reach, just high enough so I couldn’t quite impale myself on him.
“You really want it?” he asked in a voice that sounded as strained and desperate as it did teasing.
“You know I do.” I squirmed, my legs and arms crawling up him and practically lifting myself off the table. “Do your duty. Love, honor and…” I paused, searching out his eyes, then deepened my voice, “and
obey
.” He stared down at me, the dense navy of his irises glistening with lust. “I can’t remember any obey, baby, but on this occasion I’ll make an exception.” He sucked in a breath and his nostrils flared. “You ready?”
“Yes, yes, god, yes, now.” I curled my fingers into his biceps. “Please.” He rammed forward and his cock surged into me, stretching and filling my pussy to the limit. I cried out as air was knocked from my lungs, the sound mingling with his shout of pleasure bouncing around the kitchen.
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Full and stretched, I clenched around him. His tongue plundered into my mouth again and he began to pump in and out of me. Our hearts and lips sealed, our bodies as one. I locked my feet in the small of his back and shut my eyes as he transported me to a place where only he and I existed.
His pubic bone rocked against my clit and his thick cock took ownership of my body. I broke the kiss and buried my head in his neck. All I could concentrate on was where we joined so intimately. He upped the pace and increased the intensity. The first wave of an orgasm careened toward me.
“Liam, oh Liam, yes, yes,” I cried into the soft wool of his sweater. “Oh god, don’t stop.”
He didn’t answer. Instead he shunted his hips all the harder. He got up onto the table with me, his weight falling heavier on my chest and his knees nudging the back of my legs.
“Come, baby,” he murmured hotly into my ear. “Come for me, let me feel how much you need me.”
I split apart, greedily clenching and pulsating around his cock as I fisted his sweater. I groaned long and loud and abandoned, not holding anything back, rejoicing in being able to let him hear how fantastic he made me feel.
“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he grunted, and then he too was coming, flooding me with his love and desire. I clamped my pussy around his rigid, pumping cock. Another pleasure-soaked groan erupted from his chest as he pounded in one last time and froze at the hilt.
Our breaths were hard and fast, our hearts beating hard only inches from one another. After a few moments I slid my hands over his broad shoulders and down his back, my soul swelling with love for him. Every time was so special with Liam. Every time was a moment we wouldn’t have had if it hadn’t been for Quinn.
Pulling up, he looked into my eyes. A flush of pink had risen on his cheeks. “I hate seeing you sad,” he said breathlessly. “Was that good distraction therapy?” 12
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“Perfect,” I said, gently smoothing his flopping blond hair over the deeply ridged scars on his skull. I reached up and kissed him. “I love you,” I whispered, trying to steady my breaths.
“I love you too.” He cupped my face in his hands and returned the kiss. Deep and passionate, our lips and tongues confirming the emotions we shared. On and on we kissed until his cock softened inside me and my sweat cooled the surface of my skin. An autumn breeze fluttered into the kitchen, carrying with it an oak leaf that floated onto my forearm. I couldn’t suppress a small shiver.
He broke the kiss, slid from inside me and shifted off the table. “Come on.” He tucked his cock into his boxers and did up his jeans. “Let’s get you dressed.” I brushed off the leaf and took his offered hand. He supported me as I planted my feet on the floor and picked up my discarded clothing. I glanced at the messy table. It wasn’t the first time it had seen action like that. Thank goodness our nearest neighbors were nearly half a mile away so it didn’t matter if the top half of the door was open.
“When is Quinn due home?” Liam asked, walking to the sink and running his hands under the tap.
“I thought he’d be here by now,” I said, looking at the clock and making no move to put on my pants and knickers.
“What time was his meeting?”
“One and he didn’t think it would last more than three hours.” I shrugged. “He must have called in at the ward and got caught up in something.”
“Yeah, he did dawn-’til-dusk surgery yesterday so there’s bound to be lots of follow-ups today.”
“Mm.” I frowned a little. I didn’t like Quinn’s new surgical hours. Until several weeks ago he’d operated every day but only half days. Okay, his half day could last ten hours if that was how long an operation took, but still, it was a surgeon’s half day. But now he was operating for three long days—ridiculously long days. I was no doctor but it seemed better to have surgical time diluted with clinics and ward rounds. Less 13
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intense, less mentally and physically exhausting. I couldn’t understand why theatre management had changed it, something about saving time shifting specialist equipment around, Quinn had muttered angrily when I’d asked.
“Here.” Liam pressed my now heavily infused raspberry tea into my hand. “Sorry, it’s gone a bit cool.”
“It’s fine.” I smiled and took a sip of the rich, fragrant liquid. “I’ll go and freshen up.” Thick moisture seeped between my legs. “Then I need to get the stables cleaned and locked up.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes, it feels like they’ll soon be coming home once the stables are ready.” He smiled. “Sure, you do that and I’ll make a start on dinner.” He pulled open the huge fridge and began dropping ingredients onto the counter.
* * * * *
I set about my jobs in the yard with a lighter heart than I’d thought I’d have this evening. Liam was right. The girls did love being at equestrian school and they’d chattered for days about all the things planned for the term as we’d bought and packed their stuff. They’d called friends to check on which colors and styles of head collars had already been taken and to find out the latest trends in winter blanket designs.
I fed the dogs tins of meat and a chunky bone and left them in the spare stable where they slept except on the coldest winter nights, then scattered a scoop of seeds for the hens. Pausing, I watched Betsy leap around in the twilight shadows at the side of the barn. She didn’t have a mouse, she was simply playing with the last of the floating seeds coming down from the paddock. She was five years old now—the girls had gotten her for their third birthday—but she still acted like a kitten when she wasn’t sleeping.
Picking up a long-pronged fork, I dumped it in a squeaky wheelbarrow and headed toward Jasper’s stable. Sophie was incredibly keen on rules and had nailed all sorts of 14
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signs onto the wooden wall by Jasper’s door. “No uninvited guests”, one said in bold letters and underneath in smaller writing she’d added, “that means you too Billy!” Others read “Straw on the floor, hay in the net”, “Sugar cubes in moderation”, and “A pony is for life not just for Christmas”.
Stepping in, I clambered up the bank of straw in the far corner and flicked off the tiny camera Liam had installed. Each stable had one and it meant that the girls and I could check on the ponies by flicking on the TV instead of traipsing across the yard.
He’d connected it last spring when Jasper had laminitis. He’d looked out of his office window at three in the morning and seen Sophie running barefoot over the yard in her cotton nightdress to check on him. Liam had been horrified that the girls could and would get up in the night and let themselves out of the house. It was one of the few times I’d seen him truly cross with Sophie and she’d sobbed at seeing her gentle, placid father so incensed. But, ever practical, Liam had installed closed-circuit TV along with a high bolt on each door. Now when the girls were worried for any reason in the night they just had to flick on any TV in the farmhouse to channel eighty and they’d see their ponies sleeping or chewing hay. Jasper had never suffered from laminitis again but the cameras had stayed.
I set about mucking out the stable, tossing straw into the wheelbarrow and up the banks around the edge. When the floor was clean and swept, I hung up the empty hay net in the tack room, tipped away the bucket of water and bolted the door. It would stay that way until Jasper returned.
After cleaning Bramble’s stable in the same manner, I dragged two straw bales from the barn and set them on top of each other. Just before the ponies returned I’d share the fresh bedding between the two stables. Make them cozy for the chilly month of December.
Feeling hot, I shrugged off my fleecy sweater and wiped my forearm over my brow.
Straightening, I sensed the stable darkening as a long shadow stretched around my feet.
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I turned and pressed a hand to my chest, startled by a second presence when I’d been lost in my thoughts.
Standing dead center in the doorway, filling half the space with his broad shoulders was Quinn, silhouetted by the setting sun that shone golden behind him like a full-body halo. He wore an expensive, tailor-made suit. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and his short dark hair was highlighted around his ears and neck by the light. I couldn’t make out his expression.
“You made me jump,” I said. “The dogs didn’t bark.”
“I’m sorry about that.” His voice was deep and drawling—he still had an American twang even after all these years. “They didn’t look up from their bones.” He stepped through a shard of light dancing with dust motes. I stared up at him as his face came into focus. He looked so brooding, black brows low, mouth set, and my heart somersaulted—I was anxious as to the outcome of his day.
“Well?” I asked. “How did it go?”
He swallowed and the sound was noisy in the quiet stillness.
“Quinn,” I said more firmly. “How did it go?”
In a sudden rush he stepped forward and grabbed me around the waist. Lifted me into the air and spun me a full three-sixty. “I got it. I damn well got the money, Ariane.”
“Oh, wow!” I put my hands on his shoulders and smiled down at his delighted face as he hoisted me higher still. “You did? Really?” I knew how much this meant to him.
“Yeah, really. Two million for the next six months with a potential further two if the research looks promising.” He pressed his lips to mine in a hard, excited kiss. “And it will, I know it will. Initial trials are right on track.” He set my feet on the floor but kept me pulled up against his body.
“I’m thrilled for you, Quinn.” I slid my hands up the smooth lapels of his silver-gray jacket. “I didn’t doubt you’d make a good case for the grant, but two million. It was asking a lot.”
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“Yeah, I know, but think how much they’ll make if I can prove that ‘their’ immune suppressants work. They’ll be rolling in it.” He threaded his fingers into my hair and tipped my face to his. “Plus, and more importantly, I really think this is going to save lives.”