She angled up against him once more, then bent forward and nipped at his shoulder, licked that delicate skin at the hollow of his throat. If she’d had a white flag, she would have waved it.
I surrender.
But her answer would have to suffice. “Yes,” she breathed. “Come into me...and make me come,” she added wickedly.
CHAPTER 12
...and make me come.
It was an absolute miracle that he didn’t have a screaming orgasm right then, Mick thought, chuckling softly at her sinful command.
“You bet,” he said, and an instant later, he was inside of her. He groaned as her feminine muscles clamped around him, holding him in place and, even as his body demanded the exquisite friction he found buried to the hilt in her welcoming folds, everything inside of him went still as a peace more fulfilling than anything he’d ever experienced swept through him, mending fissures, cleaning out the clutter stuck to his soul.
He felt strangely energized, but calm...soothed, Mick realized with a flash of insight, the thought so unique and profound he felt a curious tingle in the back of his throat.
For the first time in his life, he felt soothed, and for the first time in months he realized he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
With her. In her.
Sarah Jane wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked beneath him, her greedy body absorbing his thrusts. He pushed deep and hard, then harder and faster and faster still. Her dark blonde hair fanned out beneath her head, the moonlight picking up streams of caramel. Her soft breath whispered against his skin, her eager hands slid over his back and grabbed his ass, urging him on, desperate for the release that hovered just out of reach.
Funny, Mick thought. He’d wanted to punish her for belittling their kiss, when they’d both known it had been so much more. Her kiss had rattled him to the very core. How dare her say that it was “just a kiss.” That was like saying the Taj Mahal was just a little building or The Atlantic was just a little ocean. That kiss had shaken him to the soles of his feet, had made him abandon what was left of his good sense and his restraint--so much for saving her from him, he thought--and had made her priorities his.
But, too late, he saw the flaw in his reasoning--an occurrence which was happening with entirely too much frequency for his comfort. If merely kissing her had rattled what was left of his already imploding world, what the hell had he expected to happen when he made love to her? How could he have thought for an instant that it would just be sex? Just an attraction? How could he think that he wouldn’t walk away from being with her an unchanged man?
Because, Mick realized, as her heels dug into his ass, her beautiful breasts slid against his chest and her small hands lovingly mapped his back, desperate and reverent, eager and in awe, there was no way he’d ever be the same.
The knowledge should have spooked him, should have scared the hell out of him, because he’d never felt this way before. He’d never met a woman who simply did it for him the way Sarah Jane did. But Mick Chivers had never been afraid of anything in his life and he’d be damned if he’d start now. She was just a girl, he told himself as he pistoned in and out of her, desperate to believe it.
She was just a girl...and he was just a guy who could quite possibly fall in love with her.
If he hadn’t already.
Sarah Jane made a keening cry low in her throat and her neck arched back, even as her hips upped the tempo between them.
“Oh, Mick. I need-- I want--“
Me, he mentally supplied. You need me. You want me.
She thrashed wildly beneath him, making little mewling sounds that made his swollen dick impossibly stiffen even more, just shy of the point of pain. His balls hardened until he thought they’d shatter. He could barely breathe his lungs were so tight. He could feel his release gathering force in his loins, building and building, but refused to let it go until she’d gotten hers.
Make me come, she’d said. And he would, if it freakin’ killed him.
Lips peeling away from his teeth, his heart threatening to pound right out of his chest, Mick reached down between their joined bodies and knuckled her clit once again. That teeny amount of pressure was all it took to send her flying over the edge.
Her back bowed off the bed, her mouth opened in a soundless scream and he could feel her tight little body fisting around him, again and again, hard contractions that ultimately set him free as well. The orgasm blasted from the back of his loins like a bullet down the barrel of a gun, and with each continuing pulse from her body, he quivered and shook. Gooseflesh raced up and down his spine and back again and it took every bit of strength he possessed not to completely collapse on top of her.
Hands down, the most powerful orgasm, most incredible sex of his life.
And he knew why. He knew, though he didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to even acknowledge what was happening to him.
The difference was her, Mick knew. Sarah Jane Walker, his hell-cat, his she-devil. He chuckled softly, gently pressing a kiss to her cheek.
His little bad ass.
The question was...just what in the hell was he supposed to do with her? Particularly when he didn’t know what he was going to do with himself.
* * *
“Well, this is certainly a significant change in events,” Tina said, staring at her in wide-eyed astonishment. “You know, when you called this morning and said you were going to miss breakfast, that I’d see you this afternoon, I didn’t think that much about it. I just thought you were staying home and licking your wounds.” Her lips twitched. “But that wasn’t the case at all, was it? You were too busy licking him.”
Sarah Jane finished installing putting a coat of paint on the picket fence which would go around their Fried Pie Festival Booth and felt the tops of her ears burn. “Only after he came clean,” she said.
Tina cocked her head in bemusement. “He comes clean? Really? In my experience it’s always been a little--“ she gave a delicate shudder “--messy.”
Struggling to keep a straight face, Sarah Jane glared at her friend. “Did you completely miss the part where I said he was going to help me find the will? That he hadn’t felt right about any of this since the beginning? That he was essentially going to help me thwart Chastity? That her evil plan has backfired because the lackey she thought she was hiring isn’t a lackey at all and has a soul?” She quirked a brow, practically giddy at the thought. “Were you listening to me at all, or are you more interested about teasing me about the best sex I’ve ever had in my life?”
Tina dipped her brush once more. “Seriously? The best ever?”
“Tina.”
“Fine,” her friend relented. “If you want to focus on the whole villain-to-hero aspect of this--which admittedly is pretty damned romantic--then I suppose that’ll work for me.” She slid her a look. “But it’s still not as juicy as the sex news, if you ask me.”
Villain-to-hero aspect, Sarah Jane thought, secretly pleased with her friend’s assessment. That certainly seemed fitting. Just a couple of days ago Mick had been the instrument of her destruction and, though they’d searched every nook and cranny of her old house--and she’d departed the premises with her mother’s wedding dress--donated it my ass, Sarah Jane thought-- and her father’s pipe, not to mention a few photo albums she’d been wanting--and still hadn’t found the will, Sarah Jane felt confident that, together, they would.
As a matter of fact, next week during the Festival, they’d planned to sneak away while Cecil was busily judging the competition to search his office. With any luck they’d lay hands on it and be back on the town square by the time the winners were announced. In the mean time, Chastity was going to be lulled into a false sense of security, imagining that her watchdog was in place, and Sarah Jane had no plans outside spending every minute during the next week with Mick that she could. She grinned.
And so far, her plan was working out splendidly.
Though he hadn’t spent the night with her last
night, Sarah Jane had every intention of asking him to tonight. She’d met him first thing this morning at the Milton Plantation and, between several lengthy kisses, which led to some pretty intense sex, they’d managed to get the an incredible amount of work done. No doubt she would finish ahead of schedule, which was better for everyone all the way around. Ervin’s dozer schedule wouldn’t be interrupted and with Mick here at her side for the next week, she’d encouraged Mason to take advantage of his presence by scoping out a few local colleges, something he’d been putting off in favor of working with her.
Though she’d always done the majority of the salvage work herself, Sarah Jane had to admit having a capable second on the job with her was...nice. Not to say that she didn’t appreciate Mason--she did.
But Mick... Mick worked with the same sort of care and efficiency as she did and, while she’d always loved her job she had to admit she’d loved it more the past couple of days with him by her side. Why? A million little reasons--the crook of that smile, the humor in that unusual blue gaze, the way those chocolate waves became more endearingly unruly as the day wore on. He was smart and funny and, every once in a while--usually when he had his eye behind the camera and pointed at her--she’d catch him looking at her in the most peculiar way. One that made her heart swell and warm and her belly bud with the bloom of something special.
Something rare.
How did she know this? Because she was giving him the same unsure-can-I-trust-what-I’m-feeling? look.
When she’d said last night was the best sex she’d ever had in her life, Sarah Jane hadn’t been lying. Hands down, absolute best, rocked her world, shook her universe, sent her sailing past cloud nine and back again best sex ever.
But...it had been so much more than that.
Damn those if-only’s, she thought.
Mick Chivers, damaged, restless, guarded, island unto himself, lonely mustang, former military, soon to be former security specialist, with seemingly no plans for the future guy who spent more time at a boarding school than at home, who learned carpentry from his grandfather and had never mentioned his parents or siblings--a man she knew seemingly nothing about--had managed to, with just a single crook of those devastatingly sexy lips, insinuate himself into her...affections.
No, as much as Sarah Jane would like to tell herself that this was merely a harmless flirtation punctuated with magnificent sex, she knew better.
Knew herself better. For the first time in her life she could look ahead and see a future--one that was as imaginary as the life she’d planned on Ponder Hill, but she could see him by her side in her dream house, them making love in the blue glow of stained glass beneath her wishing angel.
Unfortunately, who she didn’t know better was Mick, but with any luck that would change this evening and over the coming week. They planned to order a pizza, then Sarah Jane had promised to show him the fine art of fried pie making. It was just an excuse, of course. She would have invited him over to watch paint dry if it meant she could spend another minute with him. Just knowing that he was leaving soon--an unspoken assumption--hung like a black cloud over their otherwise rosy new romance, but rather than think about that unpleasantness she’d borrowed another page from Scarlett O’Hara’s book and tried not to think about it. Not the brightest or most mature tact, she’d admit, but she’d work with what she had.
And right now that was a limited time frame she imagined was going to have to last her a lifetime.
“So no luck finding the will, then?” Tina asked, reeling her back into their conversation.
“None,” she admitted, frowning darkly. “I think she’s destroyed it.” It was just the sort of thing Chastity would do. Disrespectful and selfish. Her father’s last wishes, tossed aside like so much garbage.
Tina’s worried gaze met hers. “Surely to God Cecil has had more sense.”
“One would hope,” Sarah Jane said with a shrug. “But you never know with men.”
Tina snorted. “You can say that again.” She slid Sarah Jane a veiled look that instantly piqued her curiosity. “You’re not the only one who had some interesting action last night.”
“What?” Sarah Jane breathed. “Did you hear from Chase?”
Tina chuckled. “In a manner of speaking. He called and left a message on my machine that he’d be over after he ‘finished spilling his intestines into our local sewer system’ to have a little chat with me--“
Sarah Jane choked on a laugh. She could just imagine his outrage. Served him right for hurting her friend.
“--so I invited Mark Higgins over for dinner and served him my lemon artichoke chicken, roasted new potatoes, peas in white sauce and--“ Tina’s eyes twinkled with vengeful humor.
“--banana pudding,” Sarah Jane finished breathlessly, awestruck at her friend’s diabolical plan.
Chase’s meal. His absolute favorite, the one that Tina had only ever made for him. If a way to a man’s heart was indeed his stomach, then Chase watching another man enjoy his bounty had to have positively eaten him up. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, impressed. “That sounds like something I would do.”
“I know,” she squealed delightedly, apparently shocked at herself. “I opened every blind and every curtain in the dining room.” She giggled. “Chase beat on the front door like an outraged elephant. It was wonderful.”
“What did you do?”
“I calmly told him that I had a date and we were trying to enjoy our meal. If he was hungry or was looking for company he could try 410 First Street.”
Sarah Jane felt her eyes widen significantly. “Laura’s address. Stroke of genius,” she said, nodding. “Utterly brilliant.”
Tina made a moue of regret. “I don’t know how brilliant Mark thought it was. He knows how I feel about Chase.” She gave a little miserable snort. “Hell, the whole town knows how I feel about Chase.”
“Don’t worry about Mark,” Sarah Jane told her. “He’s just happy for a good meal. As for Chase...I’ll bet he’s questioning what he knows today.”
Tina crossed her arms over her chest. “I hope you’re right. He certainly seemed jealous.”
“Has he called?”
“Several times. I’ve been ignoring him. He came by Clara’s this morning and she wouldn’t let him into the kitchen.”
Sarah Jane grinned. “Excellent. I think this is just what he needs.”
“I don’t know about that, but it feels good to stop being the victim, I can tell you that.” She smiled sadly. “I should have listened to you a long time ago.”
Remembering the little insight she’d had last night about her friend’s feelings, Sarah Jane shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “I believe that everything happens in its own time for its own reason. Until now, you haven’t been ready.” She rocked back on her heels. “Now you are.”
Tina’s concerned gaze met hers. “What about you, Sarah Jane? Are you going to be ‘ready’ when Mick leaves town?”
Sarah Jane ignored the prick of unease in her chest and shrugged. At the rate she was going, Scarlett O’Hara wasn’t going to have enough pages in her book to matter. “Honestly, Tina, I’m trying not to think that far ahead.”
“Whether you’re thinking about it or not, it’s coming.” She winced, her face a mask of concern. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. And I know that Mick’s ended up being a really great guy--and I’m thrilled that he’s going to help you--but that boy looks like the type whose always sitting on G, waiting on O.” She hesitated. “I guess what I’m trying to say is--“
Sarah Jane smiled sadly. “I know what you’re trying to say,” she said. “And I know, so no worries, okay. I know what I’m doing.”
Lies, lies, all lies. She didn’t have any idea in hell what she was doing. She just knew she couldn’t stop.
CHAPTER 13
Mick plucked another berry from the basket on the Sarah Jane’s kitchen counter and watched her carefully flip another fried pie. She wore a frilly apron over her trademark
sleeveless shirt and shorts, her hair pulled into its usual ponytail. A smudge of flour was on her adorable chin and, while he knew he should tell her about it or wipe it off himself, he thought she looked too damned cute.
One of her cats--Nod, if memory served--wound around her legs while she stood at the stove and all three dogs lay sprawled under the kitchen table. Norah Jones eddied out of a Bluetooth speaker and the strong scent of sugar flavored the air.
“All right,” Sarah Jane said, transferring a warm pie onto a plate for him. “I’m a pie purist, which means I don’t want any whipped topping or ice cream, however if you’d like some I have one or both.”
Mick grinned. “A pie purist?”
Sarah Jane’s answering smile was chiding. “Don’t mock me. I told you we take our pie seriously around here.”
Mick nodded and took the fork she handed him. “I remember.”
She chuckled, the sound vibrating through him. “You thought we were all crazy, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know where you would have gotten that idea.”
Sarah Jane’s lips curled. “You mean that I’ve-landed-in Yokel-ville look on your face wasn’t supposed to tip us off?”
Mick carved off a chunk of flaky pie and lifted his chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve already told you that I was too busy staring at your ass to think about pie or anything else.”
“You were facing me when we were talking about pie, boy genius.”
He smiled evilly. “Sorry. I meant your breasts.”
She gasped and whacked him with a dishtowel. “Try it,” she said, gesturing to his loaded fork.
Mick winked at her, then took a bite. Warm, sugary, the perfect blend between tart and sweet. Like her, he thought again. He groaned in pleasure and his gaze swung to hers. “This is wonderful,” he said thickly. “No wonder you win every year.”
Men Out of Uniform: 6 Book Omnibus Page 76
