Colton on the Run

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Colton on the Run Page 17

by Anna J. Stewart


  “Go over, Jane.” His command was hot in her ear and echoed through her fracturing mind. All she felt was him, all she wanted to feel was him. Higher, higher, he drove her higher until she couldn’t help but soar. She came, trembling, vibrating in his hold as her knees went weak and she sagged against him, the ripples of pleasure seemingly endless as he held her close. “Gorgeous.” He turned her to face him again, kissed her lips. “Now, that was worth the wait.”

  She sank to the edge of the bed and watched, dazed, as he removed her jeans, and she shimmied out of her panties, then reached back to unhook her bra.

  “Slowly,” he urged, unzipping his jeans and stepping out of them.

  “Not my favorite word, cowboy.” But she loved the passion she saw in his eyes as she drew the straps down her arm. “You need help there?” He wasn’t naked yet and she was done waiting.

  “Not even a little bit.” He walked around to the nightstand and opened the drawer. The foil package in his fingers boosted her anticipation. “Hold on to this. There’s just one thing...” He dropped to his knees and for an instant, Jane’s entire body went fire hot. He was right there, kneeling between her legs. Legs that were trembling to open as he reached up and pulled the elastic from her hair. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.” He drew the long waves down and over her shoulders, the tips teasing her already tightened nipples. His fingers sank deep, trailing through her hair before his hands caught the back of her head and he drew her in for another kiss.

  Tears burned the back of her eyes as she sank into him. He was so tender, and yet she had no doubt in her mind he wanted her. She slipped her hands down his sides, over his hips to where the thin fabric of his shorts stretched around him. Jane drank him in, drew him closer and slid her palms against his skin, her fingers inching down, dragging the fabric with her.

  “Skye,” he whispered as he maneuvered out of them.

  She froze, grabbed his wrists and squeezed until he looked at her. Whoever she was before, she wasn’t that person any longer. Memory or no, it didn’t matter. She knew who she was now. And that was all she wanted to be. “Jane,” she insisted. “Your Jane. Always.” She pressed her lips against the pulse in his wrist, then kissed him again. Before he could argue. Before either one of them could think.

  She sank back on the bed, drawing him with her, hands clenched, the foil packet caught between their palms. Her other hand continued its exploration and found him, hot, hard and ready for her. “I want you, Leo.” As if there was any doubt. She needed him to believe, for him to know, she knew what she was doing. “Now, suit up.”

  He grinned and tore the packet with his teeth. “You’ve got it, darlin’.”

  Had she any memory of before, she might have wondered if there was a sexier moment than watching the man she loved cover himself.

  The man she loved. Peace—rightness—flowed through her in that moment, taking up residence in that corner of her heart she suspected had never been full. She loved Leo Slattery. Whatever had come before, whatever would come later, it wouldn’t matter. For now, for this moment, accepting that she loved him, would always be enough.

  She didn’t need to wonder about anything, not as the sight of him reignited the ache between her thighs, an ache that had her hips writhing in anticipation. And then he was over her, one arm braced on the bed, the other hand stroking her hair before trailing down her side, over her hip, to tease the cleft at her core to ready her for him.

  She moaned, the sound vibrating against her throat as she arched her back, pressed her breasts high to where he could lower his mouth. His finger slipped into her, stroking, firm, but not enough. Not nearly enough. Jane squirmed beneath him, unable to ask for what she wanted, what she needed, as the pressure built to the point of bursting.

  “Please,” she panted, reaching down for him, finding him with her hands and wrapping her fingers around the length of him. “Please, Leo.” Her legs fell open as he moved in. She abandoned her hold on him as she gripped her fingers into his forearms. He rocked his hips forward, slightly, just enough for her to feel him against the part of her that would give her what she desperately craved. “Leo.” She cupped his face in her hands and drew him down as he thrust into her.

  She cried out, the sensation of him filling her too overwhelming to comprehend all at once. He was inside her, pulsing, heavy, straining. When he moved, gently, slowly, as if giving her time to adjust to the feel of him, she didn’t think she’d ever feel more wanted, more desired. More ready to abandon all control.

  Jane lifted her legs, wrapped herself around him as tight as she could, held him as close as she could as he thrust. Tears seeped from her control, trailing down the sides of her face as she moved with him, surrendering to the pleasure and wonder of this man who had become so much of who she was.

  Her hands trailed over and around his back, her fingers pressing against the tension she felt in every inch of his body. “Leo, let go.” She could feel another orgasm building, but she didn’t want to go alone again. She wanted... She tried to catch her breath as his pace increased. “Leo, come with me.” The last word ripped from her lips as she cried out, her climax pulling him with her, over the edge. Into utter and complete bliss.

  Chapter 11

  Leo tried to recall a moment that was more perfect than watching the woman he loved explode in pleasure around him. His dreams, his fantasy hadn’t come close to the reality of making love with her, and that was saying something considering the potency of those imaginings had sent him to more than his share of cold showers.

  He rolled to his side, pulling her with him, but instead of settling into his side, she ended up half on top of him, her leg thrown over his as she sank into him.

  “So two months of foreplay worked pretty well.” She pressed her lips against his shoulder, licked the sweat from his skin before shimmying up his body. “Imagine all the time we’ve wasted.”

  “We can make up for it.” Right now, all he wanted was to extend this moment, memorize the feel of her in his arms, the way her hair spilled over the two of them, tangled tresses of liquid fire as her hands became restless and began to search his body. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay,” Jane purred as his fingers trailed up and down her spine. Then she kissed him, so deeply, so completely, he suspected she stoked the fire in his soul. “What is it?”

  He waited until she inched back, just enough for him to see her complete face, the deep brown eyes he longed to wake up to. The full, swollen-lipped smile he knew was only for him. “I love you, Skye Colton.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “Jane,” he added with a smile. “Sorry, but it’s important to address the facts. This bubble we’re in won’t last forever. You are, to everyone else in the world, Skye Colton. You’re going to have to accept that.” He stroked a finger down the side of her face, silently pleading with her to understand. “But you’ll always be my Jane.”

  Her smile returned, as did the twinkle in her eyes. “And to think I thought that a horrible name when you gave it to me.”

  Another kiss. Another touch. Another exploration had him groaning into her mouth. But as he tried to roll her under him, she pushed against his shoulders, pinned him to the mattress and straddled him. The groan in the back of his throat sounded more like a growl as she arched her back, jutting her breasts as she ran her hands through the length of her hair, letting it fall all around her.

  “Jane...”

  “This time’s my turn.” She rotated her hips, lifted herself up and shifted slightly even as he was reaching for the box beside the bed. “Ah!” Leaning forward, she tapped a finger against his hand and removed one of the foil packets. “Good thing you got a whole box.” She moaned as she settled back into her spot, then arched her neck, biting her lip in a way that told him this time wasn’t going to last as long as she might like. “By the way...”

  She was
killing him, with each movement, each rotation of her body, she was draining the life out of him. And nothing had ever felt better.

  “By the way what?” He gripped her hips in his hands, stilled her motions until she looked at him, her eyes glazed, dazed, and smiling.

  “Oh.” She gasped then moaned. “I love you, too, cowboy.” She dropped the packet on his chest. “Now, are you going to do this or am I?”

  * * *

  Jane managed to stifle the scream before it ripped out of her throat. She shot up in bed, the terror of the dream following her into the darkness of Leo’s bedroom, but in an instant, the fear began to fade as Leo’s arms came around her and pulled her into his chest.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He stroked her hair as her breathing eased. The wheezing in her chest faded as she squeezed her eyes shut. She focused on him, the strength of him, the warmth of him. The knowledge that he was, perhaps had always been, the only person she could rely on. “Tell me,” he murmured into her hair before he pressed his lips against her temple. He settled back against the headboard, drew her close. “Tell me what you saw this time.”

  She swiped at her cheeks, but found them dry. No tears this time, and the fact she hadn’t sobbed herself free felt like a badge of courage. “Same thing. But...different. I could see something.”

  “His face?”

  “No.” She sat up straighter, but didn’t move out of the circle of his arms. “No, not his face. But his name. Letters. Initials.” She squinted into the darkness, trying to pull the dream from her memory. “GG. Sounds like some psychopathic grandmother. Gigi.” She might have giggled if she hadn’t been trying to concentrate so hard. “The uniform he was wearing, it wasn’t black. It was blue. Navy blue.”

  Leo’s hand stilled at the base of her spine. “The Roaring Springs Police Department sometimes wears navy-colored uniforms.”

  “Do they? No wonder I freak out every time I see one of their officers.”

  “Was there anything else new? Where were you?”

  “I’m not sure. The road was empty. Then the spinning lights in my rearview mirror blinded me. I couldn’t see. That’s when he hit me.”

  “With his car?”

  “Mmm.” She nodded. “From behind. I think I hit something, got knocked out. I could hear the sound of his boots crunching in the glass. That’s what brought me to consciousness. I couldn’t get out, couldn’t get the seat belt off.” She was trembling now, the adrenaline coursing through her system draining the more she thought about it. “He broke the window to get to me. I tried to get free, claw my way to the passenger door, but he grabbed...”

  “Your ankle.” Leo sat up and scooped her into his lap so he could replace the now invisible bruises with his own hand.

  “He dragged me out by my foot. That’s when I wake up. Every time.” She sank into him with a sigh. “Every time I wake up in the same place.”

  “Maybe because that’s all you remember.”

  “But do I? Remember?” she asked. “Is it a dream or a memory?” She winced as the throbbing in her head began again. Jane pinched her lips tight, forcing herself not to complain. He’d been concerned enough about her headaches before they’d made love; she could only imagine the demands he’d make now.

  “I think it might be both. We should have you write down everything you said.”

  Whatever warmth she’d been feeling vanished. “You mean so we can go to the police with it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Even though in my dreams, it’s the police who attacked me.”

  A second of hesitation, then, “Yes.”

  “Brilliant idea.” She scrambled off his lap and clicked on the bedside table lamp. “Let’s just have me turn myself in to whoever tried to kill me.”

  “Jane—”

  “No! I do not want to go to the police. I don’t trust them. Any of them.” His expression barely shifted from one of calm placation. “And don’t look at me that way. You don’t get to humor me. This is my decision, Leo. Mine. It’s my life. What happened, happened to me and you don’t get to decide how I move forward.” She searched the floor for her underwear and dragged it on.

  “Except you aren’t.” He folded his hands in his lap, on top of the beige sheet, and crossed his ankles. “You’re still hiding.”

  “I’m doing a bit more than hiding now, aren’t I? What happened today doesn’t change my mind about the police, Leo. What happened today doesn’t give you any say over my life.”

  “Does loving you?”

  “What?” When she realized she couldn’t wear his discarded buttonless shirt, she yanked open a dresser drawer and grabbed one of his T-shirts.

  “Does loving you give me any say over anything?”

  “I...don’t know.” She kept her back to him. He had a point. “I don’t know about a lot of things. Why do we have to spoil this? Why can’t we just—Oh!” He’d moved silently, out of bed and to her side without her hearing him. “Might have to put a bell around you or something,” she grumbled.

  His hands settled on her shoulders, gently squeezing until she relaxed beneath his touch. He bent his head, pressed a kiss against the back of one shoulder. “I don’t want to spoil this, either. But we can’t hover here for very long. The real world is going to come calling, Jane. Your family, this GG person, the police. You can’t stop it from happening just because you want to. You’ve got to face it.”

  “I will.” But not now. Please not now. “Can’t I just be happy, here, with you, for a little while longer?” She faced him, turned pleading eyes to his.

  “I didn’t fall in love with a coward, Jane.” He shook his head. “If you want any kind of future with me, if we’re going to try to make this work, that’s my price.” He pressed his mouth to hers. “The decision is yours.”

  * * *

  “Will this do?” Jane dropped a legal notepad with pages of scribbled details onto the kitchen table in front of him. “I wrote it up this morning when you were tending the herd.”

  Leo set his lunch plate aside and, abandoning the material he’d been reading, scanned what she’d written. “Should.” He didn’t want to reread the details of Jane’s nightmares, of the images she had spinning through her head. Because if he did, the rage toward whomever had attacked her, hurt her, tried to kill her, would reignite and, truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it.

  “Can we forget about it now? It’s written down. That’s enough, right?”

  Leo sighed. “Will you let me phone the sheriff?”

  “You can do anything you want,” Jane snapped. “Call the sheriff. Don’t call the sheriff. What I want doesn’t seem to matter.”

  “Of course it matters. But that doesn’t mean you’re right.”

  “You promised me, Leo. You promised me you wouldn’t call the police. It’s the only thing I’ve asked of you.”

  “No,” he said after a moment. “It’s not.”

  “What are you—?”

  “The headaches are back, aren’t they?”

  “I—What—How—?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I’ve lived with you for a while now. I know when you’re in pain. I also saw you down three painkillers when I got back, so unless you want to break your promise and lie to me now...”

  “Fine. Yes. They started again this morning. After the nightmare.”

  “Thought so.” He picked up his plate and carried it to the sink. “Seems to me we had an agreement, didn’t we? That if they came back or got worse, you’d go to the doctor.”

  He heard the kitchen chair scoot as she sat down. She mumbled something under her breath.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Oh, for crying out... Fine! Yes, we had an agreement.” He could see her reflection in the kitchen window. She was rubbing a finger hard into her tem
ple, as if trying to relieve pressure in her head.

  “I can take you to the clinic this afternoon, Jane. A quick stop in town.”

  “Can’t the doctor come here? Don’t some of them make house calls?”

  “Funny enough, this is not Little House on the Prairie. And I’d prefer not to make extra work for Maxine if I don’t have to.”

  “Maxine? Your doctor’s name is Maxine?”

  “She was one of Gran’s...”

  “Friends, right. Boy, your grandmother was one serious social butterfly. I’ll go get my shoes.” You’d have thought he was going to be taking her to a firing squad.

  “Jane.” While he didn’t like the distance between them, he wasn’t going to give up on doing what was right for her. Even if she wasn’t happy about it.

  “What?”

  “Brattiness does not become you.” He set his dish to dry, wiped his hands and walked over to her.

  “I’m not a brat!” But she caught her lip in her teeth, cringed. “Oh, jeez. Oh, man, I am a brat, aren’t I?” She covered her face in her hands. “What is wrong with me?”

  “You’re in pain.” He caught her wrists and pulled her arms to her sides. “Your attitude was clue number one. But I did want to thank you for the files you left for me containing the plans my grandfather was looking into for the ranch before he died.”

  “He was going to take your advice,” Jane murmured. “He was going to shift to stud servicing and divest in the herd to buy bulls. Did you see—”

  “The other ranches and businesses he’d already been in touch with? Yes.” And because she’d unearthed those notes and typed them up for him, it wouldn’t take long to get the ball rolling again. “You’ve done a wonderful job with his office, Jane.” He kissed her. “Thank you.” He kissed her again.

  His body charged when she took the kiss deeper and cupped her hand around the back of his neck. “I know a better way you can thank me,” she murmured against his lips.

 

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