by Vella Munn
“Do you?”
“You don’t know what I’m talking about do you? Were you the only one on the trail yesterday?”
“I didn’t see anyone.”
“So it was just you and the mountain. Maybe some elk.”
“What?”
“There might have been a cougar, even a wolf.”
“Wolf? That would have been interesting. If I’d known…”
Would he have done anything different, maybe appreciated the setting more? Wanted to stay? “Why do you move around so much? You wouldn’t be on the run from something?”
He didn’t pick up on her attempt at a joke, only studied the night. He was an enigma, small windows and thick walls.
“Answer me something.” She pressed. “Is it a case of wanderlust?”
He still didn’t look at her. “I’m restless.”
Moving on. Not caring about leaving me behind. “Looking for something?”
When he fixed his gaze on her, it took everything she had not to close her eyes to escape the intensity in his eyes.
“Maybe. Alisha, there’s been enough soul searching for one night. Tonight doesn’t have to end on a serious note.”
He was right but even as he extended his hand, she realized he’d deliberately changed the subject. Nate didn’t want to talk about himself.
Every moment she had with this man was special. She would be crazy to jeopardize it by probing.
Covering his hand with hers, she smiled. “You’d make a good shrink. You boil it all down by telling people to get over themselves and live in the moment.”
“Is that what I did?”
She stroked the back of his hand. “That’s what I heard.”
He watched her fingers’ movement then engulfed them. “Am I getting the message you’re trying to send?”
Those remarkable grey eyes of his were taking on a smoky hue. Drawn into them, she nodded.
“Good, because that’s the one I want to receive.” He stood, came around to her side of the table, and pulled her to her feet. “I’d like to go right into the bedroom but it probably isn’t smart to leave Bruce out here with the leftovers.”
She started to reach for the plates so she could clear the table, but he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.
“You get to me,” he whispered.
“You get to me.” She tried to look up at him, but they were so close his features blurred. She settled for pressing her ear to his chest. His heart’s beat vibrated throughout her. Don’t leave.
His hands roamed over her back and down to her buttocks. Heat collided with heat, forcing a whimper from her. The sound was still there when something pressed against her side. She looked down. Bruce was staring up at her.
“Maybe he thought I was in pain,” she said.
After letting go of her, Nate rested his hands on the dog’s back. “I’m not hurting your mistress, big boy. I hope I never…”
Concern over what he’d left unsaid cooled some of her ardor. She tried to distract herself by dealing with what was on the table. While she placed leftovers in the refrigerator, Nate filled the sink with hot soapy water and placed the dishes, silverware, and pans in it to soak.
He fed Bruce a bite of chicken then ran warm water over his hands. After shaking them, he wiped his hands on his jeans. The gesture took her back to those exciting and dangerous moments before her dog had interfered.
“You’re good with this?” He jerked his head at the bedroom. “It’s what you want?”
“Yes, it is.”
Nodding, Nate lifted her in his arms and carried her into the darkened room. He kicked the door closed behind him, effectively shutting out all light except what the moon provided. He set her back on her feet and started undressing. She managed to keep her hands off him until he’d removed his shirt. Then, commanded by desire, she placed her hands on his chest and kissed the space between her fingers. He reached for her.
“No,” she said. “Don’t rush things. I need to do this. Get to know you.”
As she licked his chest, she acknowledged that no person could ever completely know another. Besides, focusing on the physical was distracting. He tasted so darn good! He shuddered and sucked in a breath but didn’t move, impressing her with his self-control. She was indeed safe with him.
Maybe.
Angered by the warning, she clenched her teeth. Darn it, why couldn’t she just experience? Concerned he might sense the change in her thinking, she rubbed her cheek over where her lips had been. He responded with a deep and shaky sigh.
Feeling her strength grow, she licked his nipples and blew an expelled breath over the damp places. His sighs took on a strangled quality as she ran the back of her hand down his belly until she encountered first his jeans’ waistband and then his erection. She cupped him.
“Darn it, woman.”
“What? You don’t like?”
“Oh, I like all right but much more of that and I’ll lose it. Besides, Bruce will try to come through the door.”
Knowing her dog, she’d be surprised if he wasn’t on the couch and asleep. Still, Nate had pointed out something important. She didn’t want things to go too fast.
“I’m sorry.” She let go of him. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
“I’m not sure I believe you. Look, you have two seconds to get to work on your own clothes. Otherwise I’m turning into a caveman.”
Much as she wanted to see that side of him, she figured she’d make more headway toward becoming naked if she was in charge of the task. She reached for the top button on the relegated-to-the-cabin shirt she’d put on this morning. Touches of moon-silver reached her. She took advantage of it by doing a bit of a striptease, arching her chest as she slowly finished with the buttons, thrusting a hip at him while unzipping her jeans, giving her shirt a dramatic fling in his direction.
He caught the garment in mid-flight and tossed it in the general direction of the single bed. His gaze was like fire on her skin as they removed their jeans.
Cheeks flushed, she watched him remove his briefs. Then, wishing the moon was doing a better job of illuminating him, she unsnapped her bra. A shake of her upper body and it fell to the floor. He grasped her around the waist and propelled her backward onto the bed. Her legs dangled which was perfect for him dispensing with her last garment.
He crawled onto the bed, aligning her as he did so there was room for both of them. Arms and legs twined, his body’s warmth was everywhere on her. Unlike the other night, she wasn’t desperate to become one with him. She could hold onto this traveling man and tell herself his traveling days were behind him. He’d see the magic in their relationship, stop searching or running or whatever compelled him to stay on the move, allow her to introduce him to the ever-changing beauty of this place.
They’d fish from a canoe, hike to the top of Mount Lynx and take pictures of lightning-scarred rocks. She’d convince him to trade his motor bike for bicycles and join her in truly experiencing the wilderness. They’d find an osprey nest, spot a newborn fawn. Spend several days in Glacier.
Then after spring gave way to summer and summer moved into fall, they’d drain the water pipes and close up the cabin. They’d return to watch the first snowfall, sit around the wood stove as white carpeted the world outside and brought silence.
He lifted his head, slipped his fingers into her hair. Feeling weightless, she splayed her fingers over the back of his neck and brought him closer. They hadn’t kissed like this before, soft, sweet, tentative even. Contented.
Unfazed by the conflict in her observation, she closed her eyes. He was the first to part his lips, the first to touch his tongue to her mouth.
Feeling small, she let herself be loved. She acknowledged the flaws in her thoughts but she would address them later. Nate surrounded her. His attention was fixed on her just as she thought of nothing except him.
Opening her mouth, she welcomed his invasion. His tongue brus
hed over hers, fluttered, withdrew, entered again. She met him in the middle, twirling her tongue over his. Her hold tightened until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he took over. All those years of not experiencing a parent’s uncomplicated love faded away. Her lovers hadn’t unlocked that final door because she’d always kept some part of herself separate, safe, and alone.
She couldn’t do that tonight, didn’t want to. Still kissing Nate deeply, she clutched him with the strength it took to keep from drowning. Her fingers caressed and stroked, letting him know she found him perfect. He settled her on top of him with his legs parted so hers slid into the space he’d created. She reached between their bodies and grazed his tip.
“Oh, god, woman.”
“Not woman.” She teased. “I have a name.”
“I don’t remember mine so how can I—”
“Let me help you remember.” She took a deeper hold of him, wondered what miracle had brought them to this place. “You know the alphabet, right? Start at the beginning. It’ll come to you.”
“This isn’t the beginning.” He grasped her buttocks. “We’re long past that.”
Words fled. She again spiralled into that place where there was only the two of them. Bodies sharing heat. Need growling like a wild thing. She both wanted to remain where she was with him under her and to have him cover her. Surrounded by sensation, she covered his face with light kisses. He went still.
Touching her moist lips to his eyelids and cheeks was her gift to him, her way of letting him know he had become much more than a healthy male body to her. She imagined feeling the same way and doing the same things when they were old. How could she possibly grow tired of him?
The question of whether he’d feel the same way briefly stopped her but, truth was, all they had was the present so she went back to sharing herself in the one way that made sense. They’d build on a lifetime of moments.
Rough finger pads stroked her back. Shivering, she rested her cheek on his chest. Fingers capable of creating countless sensations travelled light as air over her. She relaxed when he massaged her shoulders, shook as he traced her spine, all but climaxed when his fist pressed on her tailbone.
“You’re killing me.” Unable to remain still, she ground her pelvis against him.
“Don’t—I’d never say that about you.”
Didn’t he understand she didn’t literally mean it but then maybe she’d mistaken his response? Later, much later, they’d clarify. As for now, she’d distract and be distracted. Slipping back into that heat-lit place, she ceased thinking of herself as a separate human being. Her body was fluid, ever changing, shapes flowing like clouds. She floated on air, moved with a breeze, heard birds sing, felt warm raindrops on naked flesh. Wanting him to experience the same, she ran her hands down his sides, rested them on his shoulders, buried them in his hair.
“Alisha?” His voice rumbled through her.
“What?”
“Time—for me to do something.”
For a moment she couldn’t fathom what he was talking about. Then she slid off so he could get up and pull the condom out of his jeans’ pocket.
“You’re better prepared tonight,” she observed.
“I didn’t take it for granted that we’d—”
“But you hoped.”
Thanks to the moon she was able to watch as he covered his sex. Done, he stood over her. “Judging by your state of undress you want the same thing.”
When had talking become so hard? “Maybe I’m just a good hostess.”
“I guess I’ll have to determine which it is.”
He folded his arms over the chest she wanted to crush herself against. The gaze she felt in every pore recorded each detail of her body. She was aware of her imperfections but tonight they didn’t matter. If only she knew what to do with her hands, didn’t have to fight to keep them off him. But as long as he demonstrated self-control, she’d do the same. Somehow.
“Initial observations are inconclusive,” he said. “Time for a more intimate examination.”
If not for the catch in his throat and sheathed bulge, she might have thought he’d emotionally and physically removed himself from her. His words offered both promise and challenge.
Taking a long time, he unfolded his arms. He extended one toward her while the other cradled his erection. She couldn’t breathe.
“On the surface,” he said, “men are at a disadvantage. When they’re aroused, a certain something gives them away. Women, if they choose, can give the appearance of not being affected.” He rested his hand on her belly, fingers outstretched. “However, one part of them always tells the truth.”
As his fingers journeyed toward her core, she increased the space between her legs. She couldn’t say how her hands wound up around his hips. A masculine finger slid over her damp flesh, reversed direction, settled at her opening.
“Nate, please.”
“Please what?”
“You know.” Did she have to sound so desperate, feel so out of control? “Don’t tease me.”
“Not tonight, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. Trying to grasp what he’d just said distracted her. Then everything tunnelled down until she existed only to experience his touch. Her fingers moved up his forearms. She was making herself dizzy.
“Open yourself to me,” he muttered. “Every part of you, willing and ready.”
“Yes,” she fairly sobbed. “Oh yes.”
“All right.” The words hissed.
Then suddenly, smoothly, he was back on the bed. She bent her knees outward and created a space for him. He all but glided over her, settled himself.
She clawed at his rigid arms. “Yes. Now.”
“I’m here, sweetheart. Making it right for us.”
Promise became reality as he entered her. She threw back her head, closed her eyes, and surrendered. Lightning flashed throughout her, burning her and making her moan. When he gathered himself, she did the same. His thrusts started, taking her on a wild journey. She held onto him, held him in her, gave him everything she had to give. Became part of something precious. This was a ride, a storm, whitecaps, speed and more speed. Bodies singing, screaming.
His hard grunts mirrored hers. Something rippled through her, tossing and fulfilling her, taking her away. Finally, she had no more to give, could only try to control her breath.
Sanity returned. Slowly. She wanted to thank him, to let him know that at this moment she loved him but couldn’t remember how to speak.
Chapter Twenty-Three
NATE HAD BEEN awake long enough to let Bruce outside and use the bathroom himself when he realized he was starving. He tried to ignore his rumbling stomach while starting a fire and getting the coffee going. If he didn’t take off soon he was going to be late for work, but how could he leave the woman he’d made love to, not once or twice, but three times? Torn between wanting to slip off so maybe she could get the sleep that hadn’t mattered to them last night and fixing breakfast for two, he stepped into the shower. He put back on the clothes he’d worn after cleaning up yesterday and let Bruce back in.
Domestic. Domesticated. Was it possible?
A state he had any interest in?
Blindsided by the question, he pressed his fingers to his forehead. Too bad he couldn’t go back to bed and let sleep overtake him because this thinking business was taking him places he didn’t want to go.
“I’d feed you,” he told the attentive dog, “but I need to ask your mistress if you’re a breakfast kind of guy.”
“He is.”
Alisha’s soft voice made everything else unimportant. She stepped into the main room and closed the bedroom door behind her. He guessed she had nothing on underneath the floor-length bathrobe. Not taking her attention off him, she walked over to the stove and held out her hands. His mind felt clean and new, no longer burdened. For now.
“Any chance I could hire you to start the stove before I get up every morning?” she asked. “It isn’t bad this time o
f the year but come fall…”
Her eyes had had that bedroom look, lazy and dazed. Seeing the sudden covering up of her emotions made him wonder what had changed her mood. As she headed for the bathroom, he decided she’d been thinking about the end to his reason for staying at Lake Serene.
She had the power to change him. Already the restlessness that had always been part of him had become muted. The thought of what it would be like to remain in one place filled his mind as he placed dog food in Bruce’s bowl. Maybe the time had come to see if he had the ability to put down roots, to commit himself to a place and a person, to bring a dog into his life, maybe become a father.
Father. Dad. Parent.
Swamped by unwanted memories, he yanked open the refrigerator door and pulled out a carton of eggs. He was looking for a pan when Alisha emerged from the bathroom. She’d taken a brush to her hair but still wore just the robe.
“You’re fixing breakfast?” she asked.
“Hopefully you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” She came to him with her arms outstretched.
Unable to stop himself, he clasped her hands and placed them behind his back. Their bodies touched from chest to belly.
Contentment flowed through him. He wanted nothing more than to share this space with her—to not have a past. To be newly born.
But he wasn’t.
“I’ve never had a night like that,” she whispered. “Had no idea it was possible.”
Neither did I and that’s what scares me. Part of the fear anyway. Determined to keep the admission private, he forced himself to step away from her.
“I don’t have much time,” he said around his uneven heartbeat and sparking nerves. Too close. Too dangerous. “Scrambled eggs and toast all right?”
Confusion and pain settled in her too-big eyes. She pulled the robe tight around her. “Fine. Whatever.”
Just like that he hated himself and what he had to keep from her—the secret that would end everything. Despite the amazing sex, he didn’t dare go any deeper into this relationship. That way the ending wouldn’t hurt so much.
