And I pause.
I pause so I don’t lose it right this second.
“Oh, Jesus,” I mutter, throbbing inside her, fighting for control. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Nixon?”
“I need a second.”
“Are you—”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. You just feel so good. So damn good.”
After a few more seconds, I open my eyes and meet hers again. An apology forms on my lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I need to get some protection. I’m clean, but I should’ve asked if this was okay.”
“No, don’t stop. I’m clean, too, and I’m on the pill.”
“You sure?”
She nods.
I don’t ask again.
I thrust up into her. She’s so tight. I can feel her trying to relax and accommodate me. “Was that a yes?”
“Y-yes,” she breathes.
I circle my hips on her until she relaxes. I nudge in a little farther and a little farther until I’m fully seated inside her. I let her legs go, and she winds them around my waist. I can’t help grinning. “Just like I remembered.”
I bend to dive into her mouth as I withdraw and dive into her body with my own. She’s so slick and so hot, and the way she moves beneath me, the way she responds… It’s just too much. I’ve waited for her. Maybe in ways I hadn’t realized I’d been waiting. And if I have anything to do with it, this will be the first of many more times to drive her wild.
I speed up, pumping into her until she starts to wind up again. She closes her eyes, but when I feel her muscles clench around me, I tell her, “Look at me.”
She does. She opens her eyes, and, again, I feel myself falling headlong into them. I stare into a hazel-green sea that seems to shift and swirl around me as she loses it. Her nails dig into my back as her legs squeeze around my hips. I’m suspended in time with her, watching her orgasm for the second time. I move gently inside her trembling body as she rides wave after wave. I should let her have this moment, but I can’t look away. I don’t even want to.
I had a death grip on my control when she came, but when her body starts milking mine with the last hard pulses of her orgasm…it’s all over. That’s when I stop trying to prevent it. Instinct takes over and I speed up my pace, straining against her until I go stiff. My back arches and pleasure, the most exquisite thing I’ve ever experienced, rockets through me. I explode into her. Hearing her own gasp of pleasure when I do only intensifies it.
I swear softly as I collapse on her. Her chest heaves against mine, our heartbeats keeping perfect time with one another.
After a full two minutes, when I’ve finally caught my breath enough to speak, I lean up to look down into her face. It’s flushed and happy and as gorgeous as ever. “Only one thing missing.”
Her brows flicker together for a second. “What’s that?”
“A rewind button.”
She laughs and tucks her face into the curve of my shoulder. We lie like that for a couple more minutes, and I find myself settling in on top of her.
Right about now is when I usually have the urge to move, to get up and get some space, but not this time. This time, I stay. I stay right where I am, softening inside her, my body pressed to hers from collarbone to ankle. And when she threads her fingers into my hair and sighs, I relax onto my forearms. I’m content. Content to hold her. More content than I can ever remember being.
One thought chases that feeling around in my head, but I push it aside, promising myself I’ll worry about it later.
What the hell is this woman doing to me?
22
Haley
I wake some time later. Nixon isn’t on top of me anymore, but by my side. I’m lying half on him, my head on his chest, my leg thrown over his. His fingers are curled around mine where they rest on his belly. I lift my head slowly, in case he’s asleep.
My eyes collide with his. The candle flame still flickers across the room, giving me just enough light to see the sparkle of his ebony gaze. He looks quite alert and quite amused.
“What?” I almost wish I hadn’t asked. What if I sleep-farted or had a dream and said something ridiculous? Shoot me now.
I fight the urge to hide my face behind my hands and slink from the room.
“I was just wondering how you got your hands clean. I thought for sure you’d never get all that paint off.”
Relieved, I glance down at the hand curled in his. Not a speck of paint in sight. “A loofah and some elbow grease work wonders.”
“So no paint left anywhere?”
“Nope. Just on the walls.”
“Shame.”
“Why?”
“I was going to volunteer to help scrub it off. I hear skin on skin is good for removing paint, too.”
I can’t help grinning. “Is that right? Can’t say I’ve ever heard that before.”
“It’s widely known as the Holt Method.”
“Widely known, huh?”
His face is surprisingly serious. “Oh, yeah. Discovered by my great, great, great, great, great nephew. Good guy. Smart. Resourceful.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I sort of owe it to my family to use the method they worked so hard to prove for as many things as possible.”
“There are other uses?”
“Of course. There are tons of things skin on skin is good for.”
I lean up, resting my head in my hand, so I can see him better. He’s clearly enjoying himself. My belly flips over just looking at him. “Such as?”
“Well, the Holt Method can be used for tension relief, muscle soreness, fatigue, restless leg syndrome. It’s even an effective fertility enhancer.”
“Oh, I bet. Were there statistics about how many pregnancies resulted from use of this method?”
“It’s one hundred percent effective if used correctly for that purpose.”
“It’s possible to use this method incorrectly?”
“It is, but it’s difficult. And dangerous, too. You don’t want to hear the horror stories.”
“I’ve got a strong stomach. Try me.”
“Well, there was the Great Incident of 1718 when a man and woman tried to use the Holt Method while he was driving a horse and buggy. It didn’t end well. The wheel fell off; the horse got loose. It was mayhem.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“History. It’s our greatest teacher.”
Nixon grins down at me and something flutters in my chest. “Think you’re pretty charming, don’t you?”
“Um, yes.”
“At least you’re honest about it.”
With a bark of laughter, Nixon rolls us over until he’s on top of me. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”
He bends his head and bites playfully at my neck just below my ear. Chills break out and race down my arms. “I think you bring out the best in me, too.”
I’m mostly going along with his teasing, but there’s actually more than a little truth to that statement. I can’t ever remember a man making me this happy. Jason came close for a while, but then it was ruined by his betrayal. Trevor, my ex, never really made me happy. He didn’t try. He just had a role for me to play, and he was agreeable when I did it. End of story. But Nixon… He’s something different. If I thought about it too much, it would scare the pants off me. He’s plainly said that he doesn’t do love, so if I were to let this get out of hand and fall for him, I’d be destined for heartbreak.
Before I can follow that thought down the road to its logical conclusion—as in, I need to stay away from him now so that I can avoid another broken heart—Nixon’s playfulness turns into something more serious. His nuzzles becomes kisses; his nibbles becomes licks.
“You know what?” he growls into the space beneath my ear.
“What?”
“Never have I ever wanted to kiss a painted woman as much as I want to kiss this one.” I smile as he reintroduces our little ga
me.
“Never have I ever thought I’d enjoy being referred to as a painted woman. It’s quite amazing.”
“Never have I ever ceased to amaze.”
“Never have I ever doubted that.”
Nixon nudges my legs apart as his lips take mine in an earnest kiss, and within seconds, he’s the only thing I’m able to think about. Not consequences or worries or eventualities. Just Nixon Holt and all that he makes me feel.
When I wake the second time, I’m alone. There’s a note on the pillow, and I smile when I see it.
Sorry I couldn’t stay and make you breakfast, but don’t worry. I’ll be back by 9 to eat until I’m full and you can’t think straight. :)
I assume he added the smiley face so I’d figure out his play on words. Make me breakfast, as in eat me for breakfast. Just thinking about his intent with the note brings a heavy ache to my lower belly. I can’t ever remember a man making me feel the things Nixon does. It’s like he turns my world inside out, but in the most wonderful and delicious way.
That niggle that came to me last night starts back again. Is this more than just a sexual thing? Is what he makes me feel strictly physical or is it something more?
I stare up at the ceiling, up to where the water spot was before I painted over it with a fresh coat of white yesterday. There was a time when I loved Jason, and, even then, I didn’t feel this way about him. If that’s any indication of what’s going on with Nixon, I’m already in trouble.
I close my eyes for a second and think back to last night, to the way he stared down into my eyes as he made love to me. Whatever this is, I’m not alone in it. That or he’s the world’s most accomplished lover, which, considering the things he did to my body, might actually be the case.
But I hope it’s not just that. I hope it’s something more for both of us. And I hope that my hope isn’t dumb and unfounded. I didn’t want to hope for love again. Or at least not for a long time, but this…this has taken me by surprise. I expected to find pain and bad memories during my visit to this place, not hope and (possibly) love.
I fling back the covers and head for the shower. I can’t afford to think about that right this minute. Not with him coming back here in half an hour. I need time. Time alone, in the quiet, without his unnerving presence anywhere near me. That’s where I’ll find answers. Whether they’re the ones I want or not. I need to find them today, though. If last night was a mistake, I don’t need to keep repeating it. And that’s exactly what I’ll do. It’s exactly what I want to do. I want his hands on me. I want his mouth on me. I want him to make me forget about everything in the world except him. I want it to be only him and me. Him staring down into my eyes forever.
That alone should scare me.
I shower and go out to the living room to wait. I’m giddy and nervous and a little wary now, but still I wait. I don’t run like I’ve done the last two times.
The clock hands reach nine and keep going. Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, an hour, and no Nixon. I go get my phone off the charger. There are two texts from him. One saying he’ll be a little late, the other telling me he’s gotten tied up and doesn’t know when he’ll be back.
Disappointed, yet a little relieved, too, I throw on a light jacket and head out into the autumn sunshine. My feet know exactly where I’m going before my brain makes the conscious decision to go. I walk the familiar path that leads away from the stable and into a thicket of woods a couple of hundred feet behind the main buildings on the ranch. When I step into the cool forest, I’m assailed with memories from the past.
Way back when I was a little girl, I’d come here to get away from my sisters. Later, I would come here to cry as I watched my mother fade from her battle with Lupus. After she died, I’d come here to travel back in time to better days, and then when I met Jason, to embrace the solace of having someone whose sole focus in life, it seemed, was me. That was a balm for my weary and broken heart. Dad was busy being two parents to Hope, Harper was busy being a brat, and Hannah was busy being her usual maternal self, so I felt a constant and piercing loneliness until Jason came along. Maybe that’s why I threw myself into loving him the way I did. I did it with my whole heart, my whole body, my whole soul. I didn’t know at the time that giving him everything, including my trust, could backfire.
I walk deeper into the woods, weaving between the trees, stepping over rotting logs, getting more and more lost in memories. I remember coming in here when I’d realized the extent of how Jason had deceived me. I knew my life would never be the same. I came here the day before I left Texas and mourned the loss of my dreams and my youth almost as bitterly as I’d mourned the loss of my mother.
“I guess some things haven’t changed after all.”
I jump at the sound of the voice. A shiver shoots down my spine, and not in a good way. I turn to find Jason a few feet behind me.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people. On this ranch, you could get shot,” I tell him through pinched, tight lips.
He smiles, not the least bit threatened. “I’m not worried. Don’t forget, I know what your aim is like.”
“It could’ve improved over the last ten years.”
“It could’ve, but I bet it didn’t.”
He stops when he gets close enough for me to touch. When I say nothing, he comes closer.
I take a step back. “I think that’s close enough, Jason. What are you doing here?”
“Always with the questions.”
I ignore him. “Did you follow me?”
“No. I saw you leave the cottage, and I knew by the direction you took where you were going.” He steps forward again. “I know you inside and out, Hay, remember?”
“You used to know me, but even then, not as well as you think, or else you’d never have done what you did.”
He sighs heavily. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, Haley.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“I came with a proposition for you.”
I cross my arms over my chest, suspicious but curious. “What makes you think you’d have anything I was interested in?”
His smile returns, and there’s a satisfied quality to it. “Oh, I think you’ll be interested in this.”
“Might as well tell me then. Get it over with so you can go on back to whatever rock you crawled out from under.”
“What if this place is where I’d be going back to?”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that… Look, Haley. I know I made some mistakes with you. Big ones.” When I start to speak, he holds up his hand. “Please. Just let me finish. I did some things I wish I could take back, but I can’t. I can’t undo it. But what if I could make it up to you?”
“There’s nothing you could do to make it up to me, Jason.”
“Not even if I could prove to you that I didn’t just want the ranch?”
“I don’t need proof. I already have it. Remember?”
“No, you only have what you believe. The truth is, I was in love with you. I was then, and I never stopped. Not in all these years. I just didn’t know how to make you see, make you believe me. So over the years, I’ve been saving everything I could, and I made some good investments. Enough to make me a wealthy man. Wealthy enough to buy this ranch.”
I laugh. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Jason. My father will never sell this place.”
“I’m not buying it from him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m buying it from the Holts.”
“The Holts?”
“Yeah, the company that bought this place to turn it into a dude ranch.” My mouth drops open, and I stare blankly at Jason. I can’t quite seem to wrap my head around what he’s saying.
“Dad didn’t sell the ranch.”
Jason narrows his eyes on me for a few seconds before his face melts into disbelief. “He didn’t tell you.”
“Who? Who didn’t tell me what?”
/> “Your father. Or that asshole son of old man Holt.”
My heart makes a shaky throb before it drops into the pit of my stomach. “Didn’t tell me what?”
“Holt and Sons Holdings bought the ranch right out from under your father.”
“No, that’s…that’s not possible.” I take a step away from Jason, then another and another. This can’t be happening. Not again.
My chest feels tight, and my breath isn’t coming as easily as it should.
He starts nodding. “Yes, it is, Haley. I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
“I…I… There’s nothing to know. There’s been some sort of mistake. Dad loves this place. He would never sell the ranch. It’s our home. It’s…it’s where we lived with Mom. He would never.”
“He didn’t have much choice. He defaulted on his second mortgage, and the Holts got it for a steal.” He walks toward me, smiling again. Jason is smiling while bits and pieces of my world are crumbling. “But that’s good, because although I’m paying more than they did, it’s still way under market value. It’s a great deal, Haley, and I got it for us. We could live here. Raise our family here, just like we always dreamed.”
The forest is spinning all around me. I grab my head to make it stop, but still the trees twist and tilt and scatter. “What? No. Jason, that was a lifetime ago. I’m not that girl anymore. Besides, I could never forgive you.”
“What I did wasn’t so bad, Haley. I was ready to start our life together. I thought you were, too, but you weren’t as ready as I thought.”
“You weren’t ready to start our life. You were ready to take over my inheritance.”
“That’s not how I felt, Haley. Can’t you see that now? There’s only one reason for me to involve you in any of this, and you know it. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have said anything. Hell, I wouldn’t have even tried to buy this place. I did it for you, Hay.” He follows me again, stepping close enough to wrap his fingers around my upper arms. “I did it for us. For our kids.”
Tequila High Page 12
