In an attempt to feel anything but desirable, she dragged on old faded jeans, and a shirt, which she buttoned almost to the top. No flashing cleavage, thank you. Just the thought of him looking at her breasts, even in an innocent way, made her nipples harden, and brush teasingly against the fabric of her clothes.
Scrapping her hair back into a tight ponytail, she studied herself in the mirror and was pleased with the effect. Nothing to see here, no woman trying to attract her dead brother’s best friend. However, her breathing still felt far too fast and her hands trembled slightly when she opened her door and went out to face her day, with the most desirable man she had ever met.
The coffee pot was hot and steaming, exactly how she would describe Harry when he walked into her kitchen. Hair still damp from the shower, swept back off his face, begging to have her fingers run through it.
“Toast?” she asked brightly, knowing by the end of the day she was going to have the headache from hell, brought on by the stress of trying to be nice, but not too forward with him.
“Yes, please.” He took the mug of coffee from her, and headed for the window, bending his tall frame ever so slightly to look out at the weeds, which had happily taken over her garden. “Where do you want me to start?”
“I don’t know.” She sounded like such an idiot. It was obvious how much there was to do around the place, but she hated asking anyone except Grant for help. It all stemmed from the melt down she’d had, afterwards she had been terrified that the merest hint that she needed help would bring the authorities down on her, proving how unworthy she was.
“Outside or inside?”
“What?”
“Choose. Do you want me to work outside or inside? We’ll narrow it down that way first.”
She moved closer to the window, not trusting her self-control enough to get too close to him without giving her intimate thoughts away. The sun was shining, what remained of her plants were trying to bloom. “Outside.”
“Garden, or do you want me to fix the roof on your shed?”
Sighing, she saw her garden as he saw it, broken down and in need of some real TLC. “Would you mind doing the roof? I lost some of the sheeting in a storm about a month ago. Never got round to having someone come in and fix it.”
“Sure. I prefer to be outside, and I am very handy with a hammer and a few nails.”
He ate his breakfast quickly, and then asked Jennifer where the tools were. Whistling he headed out to the garage, leaving Jennifer alone with her thoughts.
She had planned to go over to see Sam, and ask him if he was interested in buying Grant’s car. She had no need for it, and hoped offering it to the local dealership might be a quick and painless way to get it off her hands. The thought of people coming to look at it, picking faults and haggling over the price, was unbearable. Sam seemed the easiest option. Only now, she wanted to stay at home, and perhaps work on the garden herself.
The car could wait for another day. A little sun on her back, and some hard work in the fresh air, might make her tired enough to push all thoughts from her head. In fact, it might be just what she needed for a good night’s sleep.
Jennifer had to repeatedly tell the voice in her head to shut up. The reason for the sudden need to tidy the garden had nothing to do with the need to be close to the man who was working in it.
Jennifer offered him a cold drink mid morning, apart from that they worked in relative silence. Harry found everything he needed, and so the steady rise and fall of the hammer punctuated the morning as slowly the roof began to look fit for purpose. She wouldn’t have to use buckets to catch the rain as it seeped in any more.
At lunchtime she disappeared into the house and made sandwiches, which they sat and ate in the shade.
“It’s looking good,” she said, determined to make small talk.
“I should be finished in an hour. Have a think what else you need done.”
“No. You’re on leave; I can’t expect you to work.”
“I enjoy it. After weeks and weeks of patrols, and then the journey home, it’s good to do some manual labour. The air is so cool and sweet.”
Jennifer thought of how hot and sticky she felt, whereas he did still look fresh. “Where do you go after your leave is over?”
“Not sure yet. Hopefully something over here. I might be in line for a promotion, so nothing is certain yet.”
“That’ll be good for you.” She wondered, if he was stationed close by, whether he would drop in and see her from time to time. “I expect you’ll want to be close to your grandfather.”
“I’m hoping. At least until I know he’s settled. I’d hate to think he was unhappy, and not be able to let me know.”
“Have you no other family?”
“Not really. At least not on my mother’s side. There’s an Aunt somewhere, my dad’s sister, but she wasn’t interested in having anything to do with raising me as a child. Not even a birthday card.”
“That’s sad. You would have thought she would want to make sure you were OK.”
“I don’t think she was very close to my father, I don’t even know if I’ve ever met her. I was so young when they died.”
Jennifer stared off into the distance, tears filling her eyes. He turned and looked at her, and then his warm hand covered hers, sending tendrils of desire through her body, mixed in with warmth like a comforting blanket.
“Hey. Don’t be sad. I had the best childhood. My grandfather liked to tinker with things. I spent many hours in his garage helping him fix things up. Then on weekends he would drive his battered old convertible out into the surrounding hills and we would walk, and picnic. My grandmother was an ace cook.”
“I remember those days. Before I lost my parents, they seemed so carefree. We take so much for granted, and then it’s taken away from you, and you wish you could have it back.”
“Life moves on, Jennifer. You have to move on with it. I know Grant was terribly grateful for everything you did for him. But you have to learn to move past your grief, and make a life for yourself.”
“I know. I really do. But I don’t know where to start. All the plans I ever made, the people I made them with are not here anymore. Now I’m afraid of letting someone else in, I don’t think I’m strong enough to lose someone I love again.”
“You don’t know that will happen, none of us do. And I know you’re strong, stronger than you think. Gant told me how you coped when it was just you and him. You were his inspiration, the reason he wanted to make the world a better place.”
“I don’t think I have ever inspired anyone. I’m nothing special.”
“You’re wrong, Jennifer. Very wrong.”
The words stretched out between them, and she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to read so much into the meaning of them, but she knew she was fooling herself, he was simply being kind.
“Right.” He got to his feet, and the moment passed. “I am nearly finished, so get the next job lined up. And yes, I am sure.”
She had been about to protest, but she kept her words to herself, and watched him move away before tidying everything away.
***
The afternoon passed by, Jennifer asked Harry to paint the front door. The paint had been purchased ages ago, but she had never found the time to actually rub the paintwork down and give it a fresh coat.
“There,” Harry said, standing back and admiring the red paint. “It will need another coat, might be able to do it tomorrow if it dries quickly. Otherwise I’ll come back this way next week and finish it.”
“I can finish it,” Jennifer said, although she wouldn’t mind if he came back to do it. She would not mind one tiny bit.
“No trouble. I like to see a job through to the end.”
He smiled, squinting a little as the sun caught his face. Her heart flipped over in her chest, and she was sure the beat it returned to was irregular and too fast. The effect he wrought on her was so delicious, and yet so painful, all wrapped up in one tight bundle of
need.
The late afternoon air cooled her skin, and after a day in the garden, made her feel chill. She wrapped her arms around herself, glancing down and seeing the dirt ingrained in her hands and down her finger nails.
“I am going to shower, and then we can have dinner. I think I have some steaks.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll tidy up, and then follow you into the shower, I think.”
His words conjured up some of those forbidden images again. The two of them, washing each other in the small, enclosed space of the shower cubicle. The water running down her body, and his hands working the soap into a thick creamy lather. Teasing her flesh into submission, her legs parting to allow his fingers to probe her until she was begging for more.
Hot and flustered again, she made her way to the bathroom, stripping her clothes off and almost choosing a cold shower in a bid to rid herself of those lust fuelled thoughts. Instead, she let the warm water soothe her, allowing it to spray over her face, bringing her back to her senses, and the reality in which she lived. He was right, she needed to move on, to create a life for herself, perhaps have a family.
However, he was not the man for her, even if he was interested, which he was not. She didn’t want to pressure him with the whole pity thing, the last thing she needed was for him to be with her out of some sense of duty. This was compounded by his career in the army, she couldn’t be with a man who risked his life. The sum of her thoughts came to the only logical conclusion, nothing was ever going to happen between them, and her desire needed to remain based purely in fantasy.
Switching off the shower, she put on her robe and went out of the bathroom. Drying her hair, she heard him coming up the stairs.
“There’s clean towels in there, and plenty of hot water.”
“Thanks. I shan’t be long.”
Jennifer heard the water being switched on, and imagined him stripping down, seeing his naked flesh ripple over his work hard muscles before he was enveloped in the warm spray. She swallowed hard, and went back to drying her hair, before dressing in a simple shift dress that buttoned down the front.
Maybe fate took a hand. As Jennifer left her room to go and start dinner, Harry came out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel.
“Oh, sorry,” she stuttered, but could not drag her eyes away from his bare chest. Oh, how she wanted to touch him, to run her fingers down over his six-pack abs, and lower. A trail of fine hairs showed her the way, and she had to clench her fists to stop herself from reaching out.
“No problem, I thought you had gone down already.” He didn’t move.
“I was drying my hair.”
He still did not move.
Her heart rate rocketed, her clenched fists now becoming sweaty as she fought her emotions. She didn’t want this, it wasn’t right. Who was she kidding? Jennifer wanted this with every fibre of her being.
“Jennifer. I...”
She dragged her gaze up to look at his face, stunned to see her naked desire reflected in his eyes. Before she could stop herself, she did the unthinkable and tentatively reached out to touch his naked chest.
He groaned, his body trembling as he fought for control. “Jennifer, are you sure this is what you want? If you ask me to, I’ll go and pack now, and leave before anything happens. But if I stay, I won’t be able to hold on if you look at me that way, and touch me like that.”
“Then let go, Harry.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She could feel the hard press of his cock against her thigh, and she wanted nothing better than to touch him, to stroke him. However, she lacked the courage for that. For now, at least.
His mouth captured hers, and she found herself clinging to him, desperate to stay upright when her knees threatened to buckle under her. Slowly she became aware of his lips moving against hers, and the sensations they evoked. Soft, sensuous and firm, his tongue asking for entrance to her mouth so he could continue his exploration of her.
Gasping against him, she let him slide his tongue along her sensitive lower lip, and found the courage to move her tongue to entwine with his. All her thoughts disappeared, for the first time in forever she was living in the moment. Two people, fiercely attracted to each other, and willingly giving into that attraction.
For an endless time they stood like this, bodies pressed together, lips igniting passion, in the only way they needed to communicate. Jennifer began to relax, to allow the raw emotion to drain from her, and to allow it to be replaced by something else. Her hunger for him was every bit as acute, yet she was learning to temper it, to enjoy his touch, rather than fear her reactions to him. In this moment, there were no mistakes she could make, it was pure and true.
When he moved them towards the room he had been sleeping in, she went willingly. He supported her body, lowering her onto the bed, and then joining her. His lips kissed her neck, grazing her jawline before moving lower. She became aware of his fingers on her buttons, undoing her the front of her dress. A moment of panic quickly passed. Would he really care that she wore a bra that had seen better days. When she had dressed after her shower, she had no idea where the evening would end; she had to settle for being glad her underwear was clean and fresh.
His fingers, brushing her nipple, soon wiped such basic thoughts from her mind. The little bud tightened, and became incredibly sensitive. So when her dress fell away, and she lay with only her bra covering her breasts, her chest was heaving, the rise and fall that of a woman who had run a mile or more.
Then he kissed her shoulder, his fingers inching the strap down, and then the cup, her breast exposed to his gaze. At that point, she actually forgot to breathe. The effect of him touching her body sending it into a confusion of mixed signals.
These signals finally exploded when his mouth covered her nipple. Licking it in a way that made her sex contract, a dull ache filling her there as the sensation linked to her clit, as though the nerves had direct communication, bypassing her brain.
Closing her eyes, she lay still, letting her other senses take over. The smell of his body, fresh from the shower, his spicy shower gel invigorating, but overall it was the touch of his fingers, and his mouth that consumed her. Drawing her arousal to unknown peaks, she gasped, and writhed under his experienced hands.
That thought struck her, he was experienced, and she was not. Did he know, could he tell? Or should she try and bluff her way through this? That was something not in her character.
“Harry,” she said so quietly she thought he wouldn’t hear.
Yet instantly he lifted his head, leaving her with the sense of loss, her nipples cool now he was not touching them. “Are you OK? I’m sorry, do you want me to stop?”
“No. But...I’ve never done this before.”
She might just as well have slapped him across the face. He sat up, leaving her feeling awkward, her first reaction was to cover herself up, hiding her body from him. Tears pricked her eyes, and she felt like a stupid little girl.
“I didn’t know. I hope I haven’t pushed myself on you.” His eyes melted her heart, full of concern, and guilt.
“No. I didn’t say it’s not what I want.” She hesitated, blushing furiously. “Because it is.” She looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze.
“We can take it slow.” He tilted her chin towards him, and she summoned all her strength and courage to look at him. “If you say stop, I will. I don’t want to hurt you, Jennifer, that’s something I will never do.”
She turned her head and kissed the inside of his hand as it rested on her chin. He groaned, a sound of a man fighting for control. Leaning forward he kissed her lips, at first so gently it was the brush of a feather, and then deeper, so much deeper her body awakened to him again, and its desperate need.
There was no way she could voice her feelings, so she let her hands show him her acceptance. With trembling fingers she touched his chest, stroking up and over his nipples, feeling them harden just as hers had do
ne. She smiled at the way his breathing quickened, and her courage rose. Leaning into him, her lips pressed against his warm skin, her hands stroking his skin, feeling the hardened muscles of his stomach, brushing the top of the towel, which still covered him.
The touch of the rough fabric on her skin made her fear rise again, she had never touched a man so intimately. She could only use her imagination to picture what his hard length would feel like, that and the gossip from other girls, girls who were much more forward than her, at school.
“Why don’t we get these off?” Harry said, bringing her back to the present.
“Can we turn off the light?”
“Don’t hide from me, Jennifer, please.”
“It’s only, I’m so...”
“Beautiful,” he said, gently easing her hands away so he could finish undoing the front of her dress. Then he eased her up off the bed. “Arms up.” She did as he told her to, and cringed a little inwardly when he lifted the dress over her head and let it fall to the floor.
She could imagine the sight, her wash worn clothes, not the sexy lingerie a woman usually wore in a moment of seduction like this. Again, she tried to cover herself. “I didn’t know...so I didn’t wear anything decent.”
“Not to worry. It’s not staying on.” With that he unclasped her bra, her full breasts free to his touch and gaze. By the look on his face, he was not disappointed, and her courage returned, her shoulders dropping, as she tried to relax.
Watching his every move, she shivered deliciously when he touched her with his fingers. Stroking her nipple, tweaking it between his finger and thumb, until it was taut. Her desire peaked again, her sex wet, and she knew her panties would be damp with her arousal.
Harry would know how much she wanted him, and very soon, because he drew her back to the bed, his fingers hooking around the elastic of her panties and tugging them down. She cringed again, what if he didn’t like what he saw, what if she was different to other women? She hated this part, so embarrassed at her naivety.
Ultimate Alphas: Bad Boys and Good Lovers (The Naughty List Romance Bundles) Page 10
