“Why were you worried about Winnie?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want her to go back to— to be alone again.”
He reached up to catch a tear with his fingertip. “Go back?”
She shook her head. “Not like that. Winnie was different before me.”
“Different how?”
She shrugged. “Let’s talk about that later. I’m tired, and you had plans tonight.” She smiled shyly through her tears.
Somehow, to Tara, speaking the words she’d feared for so many years, had subdued the fear she carried. Breaking the silence made her realize, once and for all, that the threat was gone. She was a grown woman, and no one could take her or Winnie anywhere they didn’t want to go. As the weight lifted from her shoulders, tears of relief flowed down her cheeks.
Justin reached up to wipe a teardrop from her chin, then he slid his fingers along her jaw. He had no words that could change her past, but he could comfort her now. He kissed her cheek, then her eyes, then her lips. She tasted of salty tears and smelled like a fresh breeze from lemon furniture wax.
Her lips opened under his, as the last rays of sun blinked out behind the curtains. He lay back onto the bed and pulled her into the curve of his arms.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Falling back onto the bed with Justin, Tara felt reborn, as if she’d walked through a fire and emerged on the other side with a new understanding.
He pulled her close and rolled over her, slid his fingers into her hair on either side of her face, and covered her forehead and cheeks with kisses.
A warm current of emotion flowed through her, a flash flood that grew in intensity, threatening to carry her away.
Her heart pounded, and the room darkened then disappeared. Only she and Justin existed. His breath on her cheek, his body covering hers, his lips, and his hands on her bare stomach, pushing her shirt up. She twisted under him, longing to be closer to him in some inexplicable way. His hands slid further, caressing her through her bra. A shower of chills raced across her skin as she arched toward him.
He murmured, kissing the length of her neck, and one of his hands slid behind her back. Pausing, he raised on one elbow. “Honey, how do you unhook this thing?”
Hazily, she realized he was fumbling with the back of her bra. “It doesn’t have hooks, it’s a sports bra.”
He bent to kiss her long and slow, one hand pressing her up to him, the other teasing her through the fabric of her bra. “I want this off you, baby. I have to see you.”
He leaned up, straddling her hips, and tugged her tank top over her head. She blinked in surprise as a sultry grin spread across his lips.
She felt a momentary pang of embarrassment but forgot it as his fingers teased the snap of her shorts, sending shivers to dance along her skin. His hands moved up her stomach, his palms hot on her skin.
Inching under the edge of her bra, his fingers pressed upward, rolling the sports bra up. His smile melted into a heated stare, and he cupped her breasts, bending to touch his lips to one nipple, then the other.
Tara sighed into the dark room, her back arching up of its own accord, offering herself to him. Through a passion-induced fog, she realized she was responding naturally, without hesitation, and she was delighted. As she fell headfirst into the emotion, tears sprang to her eyes and she grasped Justin’s face. Her fingers inched along his jaw, pulling him closer, finally clenching in his hair.
He rolled the bra higher toward her shoulders, desperate to rid her of it so he could continue, but as she raised her arms, the thing rolled into a tight twist, pulling and tangling in her hair. About the time he got it over her chin, she cried out, her elbows pinned to her ears by the tightly twisted elastic. The length of her hair was snarled into the bra, and she struggled to free it.
The more he pushed at the bra, forcing it up, the more she struggled to push it down to get untangled. “Wait a minute…” she gasped, muffled by the bra.
Bewildered at the interruption, he sat up to straddle her hips again.
She squirmed, fighting the twisted band of bra across her face. The thing was so tangled in her hair she couldn’t move, couldn’t even lower her arms. Her hands waved frantically above her head like worthless flippers.
He sat gaping at her for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. She bucked under him, and he fell to one side gasping for air. She twisted, turning onto her stomach, her hands flailing above her head. Finally, she stilled.
Wheezing with laughter, he bent over her, almost helpless with mirth, unsure what to do to help. “Honey? Baby, what— what should I do?”
Her back shook and he bent lower, relieved to see that she was gasping with laughter into the quilt.
Fifteen minutes of twisting, laughing, and hair pulling ensued. At one point, Justin pulled out his pocket knife, but Tara wasn’t willing to go that far. Finally, with her on her knees, her butt in the air, Justin knelt by her head, one hand full of hair, the other of bra, as he managed to free enough of her hair to allow her to wiggle the twisted elastic down to her armpits. She sat up on her heels, her head pulled to one side by her still tangled hair. She glanced at Justin, a helpless expression on her face, and he erupted into laugher all over again.
She lunged at him, crying out when her hair pulled viciously. He tumbled her onto her back and tickled her sides. She gasped and squealed, laughing helplessly, fighting him and the bra. “No fair! I can’t—”
He took a knee to the stomach and one to the chin before he let her go. She jumped from the bed, gasping with laughter, her chest heaving, and the bra still a twisted band under her arms. Tugging at her hair, she pulled a wad loose, still wheezing and puffing. When the last hunk of hair came loose, she tugged down the bra, reaching behind her to pull it down.
He sat on the bed, his chest heaving, holding his stomach. “Oh my hell, Tara, I’m sorry, but I haven’t laughed that hard in my whole life.”
She alternated between pulling faces at him and laughing. Then she bent with her hands on her knees. “Oh man, my stomach muscles hurt from laughing.”
He extended a hand toward her. “Come here.”
She crawled toward him on the messy bed. He flopped back onto the quilt and she cuddled up at his side. They lay there for a few minutes, taking turns bursting into giggles, which would set off the other.
She leaned up on her elbow. “I don’t claim to be a sex expert,. but I don’t think that’s how it’s done.”
He cupped her cheek in his palm. “Honey, with you, nothing is done the usual way. And I love it.”
She smiled contentedly and leaned into his palm. He slid his fingers behind her head and pressed her head down to kiss him. One tender kiss turned to two.
Without knowing exactly how she accomplished it, Tara found herself lying on top of Justin, squirming to feel every inch of him below her. She could feel his shirt against her stomach, his jeans between her thighs, and him.
Fear touched the edges of her thoughts, then fluttered away. New sensations rocketed through her body. Her desires were physical, sexual, but driven by a deep tenderness for Justin that overlay it all. He was the center of her awareness. It was as if the strength of her passion belonged to him, not to her.
His fingers on her skin felt natural yet powerful; his touch awakening parts of her that had been sleeping her entire life -- emotionally, and physically.
Justin’s fingers dipped inside the waistband of her shorts, and she arched her back, then moaned blissfully as his fingers slid under her shorts and across her panties to grasp her butt. Her skin responded as if it had never been touched before, the nerve endings prickling with pleasure.
Kissing him hungrily with her hands on his jaws, she felt her shorts slipping to her hips. Feeling wanton, as if she were a completely different woman, she reached down to push them lower. Desperately unsure how long she would maintain feeling fabulous, she didn’t dare to hesitate.
One foot came free of her shorts and she straddled Justin in trium
ph, finally able to feel him hard under his jeans, against her panties. Her eyes widened and for a moment she felt awkward and unsure, but he tugged her down for a kiss and she forgot everything but his hands on her butt, pressing her against him.
Their movements became frantic with an astonishing rhythm, a wordless choreographed dance. His hand rose to caress her jaw and she lifted her mouth from his, gasping to their rhythm. Her eyes clamped shut tight, and she grasped his shirt with both fists, desperate to be closer to him.
Justin’s voice sounded far away as he whispered endearments and encouragement against her cheek. His other hand pressed her hips to his. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, a bright light shattered behind her eyes, and violent shivers convulsed through her body, once, twice, three times. A long, low moan came for her throat, rising to a shout between surges. She thought she might die from the shock and pleasure of it, not understanding what was happening to her, but not wanting it to ever stop.
She clung to him, her eyes still closed and as she began to feel as if she were floating, he stiffened under her, his hand pushing her hips hard against him. He shuddered and gasped. She clung to him, loosening her grasp on his shirt to place a hand on each side of his face. She had no idea what was happening, she only knew she had to kiss him.
When her lips touched his, he gasped again, his hand pressing the back of her head, forcing the kiss further, as his tongue slid into her mouth he lurched again, bucking under her, then tore his mouth from hers to gasp her name.
She felt like an angel, as if she could fly and circle the ceiling of the room – perhaps she already was. Warm honey flowed through her veins, and she wanted Justin to taste it. She kissed his cheeks, then his lips, sharing the sweetness of her love with him, needing him to understand the tender storm in her soul.
He lay limp, stroking her hair with one hand, as she covered his face and neck with kisses. Finally, she calmed, and the room came back into focus. Numb with delight and incomprehension, she slid to his side, her hand resting on his heaving chest, his hand over hers.
The onslaught of feelings ebbed, and reality settled in. What happened? This wasn’t in the movies. That wasn’t sex. Her eyes popped open. Was that an orgasm? Her expression was confused as she figured back through what they had done.
Raising her head, she verified that Justin was still fully dressed. Even though it had all been more amazing than she could have imagined, she hadn’t done it right. Somehow, she’d managed to mess up sex.
Justin turned, wrapping her in his arms. “Honey, I have to admit. I’ve never had such incredible sex, without having sex.”
She squirmed to get away, to run in shame and embarrassment.
His arms tightened. “Whoa, not this time – you’re not going anywhere. What’s wrong?”
She buried her face in his neck.
“Tara, honey, look at me.” He pried her from his chest, one finger pressing her chin up.
She glanced at him through her lashes, her face flaming.
He kissed her forehead. “I love you, Tara.”
She yanked back in shock. “Don’t tease me! I can’t even do sex right!”
She tore at his grasp, desperate to run, but he held her firm. “I mean it, I love you.”
She continued to struggle, her arms flailing.
He laughed, his happiness ringing out through the room, past her flailing arms and legs. “As usual, you do things the hard way. Did you hear me? I said, I love you!”
She froze, her mouth dropping open in wonder. “Why? After I screw up everything for the hundredth time, why would you tell me that?”
“Screw up? What we just did? God, Tara, that was amazing. I have never been so turned on or…” He looked down at his jeans.
She glanced down to see a damp spot and her cheeks burned. “I’m sorry! I know that’s not the way—”
“Sorry?” He laughed, his chest shaking as he pulled her tight. “Honey, no woman has ever been able to do that to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He grasped her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. “Look at my eyes.” He waited as she fussed. Finally, her gaze met his. “Baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. You loved me and you came apart in my arms. I could never ask for more.”
She stilled, then her grin became mischievous. “Never?”
He laughed. “Okay, maybe we could try that again and see what happens, but you were natural and relaxed, and it was awesome. I really do love you.”
She blushed and her heart stopped beating for a moment, overcome with the reality of his feeling for her. Tears welled in her eyes. “I love you too. I have for a while now.”
He drew her head down to rest on his chest and stroked her hair. “That’s good news, because I never seem to know what’s going on. I was hoping…”
She punched his arm. “You’re not mad then?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Because—”
“Baby, I’m glad you got carried away. That just means you know how to enjoy me.”
She tossed him a narrow-eyed glance and he nodded. Reaching behind her, she tugged the quilt up to cover her arms, and snuggled, tired, into his side.
* * *
Justin lay silently staring over Tara’s head into the dark room. Her breathing, slow and even, indicated that she had fallen asleep. He knew he could wake her, wanted to wake her, and continue where they’d left off, but Tara had responded naturally, and she had enjoyed her first orgasm. She was so tired.
His focus softened as he relaxed. More than he wanted sex, he wanted her to be calm, happy, and assured that she was loved. He had no idea how experienced she was, but based on her responses, he guessed that she hadn’t had sex much and probably had never enjoyed it.
He smiled and smoothed his hand over the back of her head. She was passionate, interested, and learning about her body. If he could just be patient, she’d come to him. He’d let her set the pace as they moved forward. As a matter of fact, he looked forward to it.
* * *
Several hours later, Tara awoke with a start, confused and disoriented. Justin snored quietly, his back to her. Feeling awkward and uncomfortable, she climbed from the bed and dropped to the floor in search of her shirt and shorts. As her hands scanned back and forth in front of her, her head hit the corner of the desk. She bit her bottom lip to keep from cussing. Finally, groping under the edge of the bed, she snagged them and dragged them out.
Standing alone in the darkness, her skin prickling with goose bumps in the cool air, she twisted her clothes, embarrassed, not knowing what to do or say. Glancing toward Justin, she frowned in confusion. Finally, she slipped on her clothes and tiptoed from the room.
She drove home and crept into the house, feeling somehow ashamed that she’d snuck away from Justin like that. Walking carefully, to avoid the squeaky spots in the hall floor, she quietly closed her bedroom door behind her and leaned against it.
She was different now and everything had changed. Would Justin expect her to act the same or be different? She loved him and wanted to be close to him every minute, yet she still felt the need to run and find a place where her life felt normal. Would people see it in her eyes? See her confusion, her expectations, her happiness, her fears, her needs?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hearing a truck start up outside, Justin sat up in the disheveled bed. Glancing toward the door, his hand to his head, collecting his bearings, he realized Tara was gone.
He rubbed his palm across his scalp, then rose and made the bed. Locking up the house, he thought about the past day, then walked slowly toward his truck. As he drove through the still, country night, with Tara flooding his mind, he shook his head. The girl had been though emotional hell. Her first few years of life had been filled with violence, only to be replaced with uncertainty and fear. He supposed the people of Smithville hadn’t left her hanging to be cruel; they probably just felt the situation was resolved. Tara was safe
with Winnie, and that was it.
He was confused. Why had Winnie left the poor child wondering what would become of her? Why hadn’t she filed the paperwork to become her foster parent? Offered the girl stability? Reassured her? The puzzle that was Tara was a jumble of pieces that didn’t fit, and he couldn’t figure out what he was missing.
Thoughts about work invaded his stupor. They had one more day to prepare for the grand opening. One more day until Muffy and Denny would arrive to inspect their work.
The barn was framed and sheet rocked, and tomorrow they would begin painting. The theater was lacking the bleacher seats; they’d been backordered and they’d be in the next week. He didn’t think they’d have time to stage the eatery or the guestrooms in the barn, but that was okay because the house would be ready. Once he’d seen Tara’s work, he no longer worried that the house would be anything short of perfect the day after tomorrow.
Due to time and weather, they hadn’t built the spa yet, but the plans were ready, and they’d have it in before snow fell. The pools would go in next spring. Landscaping would be an ongoing process as the resort progressed, but the grounds around the house were shaping up nicely. Justin was pleased with the progress of the resort and relieved that they would have it ready for Denny and Muffy.
He ran his hand across the top of his head. Little had he known when he pulled into town, that within a few short months, he’d be in love and finishing the resort with a completely different design. Visualizing the house, his mind rolled back to Tara and their tangle in the bedroom. He chuckled.
* * *
Standing on a step stool, Tara reached high over her head to slide dishes onto the open shelves in the kitchen. Turning, she watched the crew carry in the pedestal table for the breakfast nook. She climbed down and walked over to supervise the placement. “Push it a little closer to the love seat, yeah, like that.”
Hometown Series Box Set Page 24
