by Liliana Hart
“I didn’t realize the weather was going to get so bad so quickly.” Her teeth chattered and he steered her toward the fireplace and the blazing logs that burned there. “I tried to call you and cancel, but I couldn’t get through. I think service is down. I didn’t want you to think I’d driven in a ditch somewhere and have you go out and look for me.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” he said, mouth twitching. “Did you walk here? I’ve never seen someone covered in this much snow from driving a car.”
“The windshield wipers on my van decided to stop working. I had to roll down the window so I could see where I was going. And then when I parked and got out of the van the wind blew my door open hard and I couldn’t get it shut again. When I pushed on it the wind decided to start blowing the other direction and it blew the door closed and me face first into the snow that built up next to the driveway.” She went to wipe the snow from her face and remembered she had her gloves on, so she peeled them off and laid them in front of the fire. “At least I think I parked in the driveway. It might be the middle of your front lawn for all I know.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you say that much at one time before. You must be thirsty.”
“You make me nervous.”
He burst out laughing at that. She’d told him that once before while on a certain Ferris wheel ride.
“Hand me your things and I’ll hang them up to dry. There’s fresh coffee or wine if you like.”
“I don’t drink,” she said.
“Anything at all? Or just drinks of the alcoholic variety? I’m not a doctor, but I am a cattleman, and I know that my cows have to have water to survive.”
“Are you comparing me to a cow?”
“It didn’t start out that way in my head,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe we should start over. Did you have a pleasant drive?”
Her mouth quirked and her eyes sparkled with laughter. Color was coming back into her cheeks and the tension went out of her body. “It was a lovely drive. Very picturesque. I would’ve taken pictures if my lens cap hadn’t frozen to the camera.”
“That’s nice then,” he said, hanging up her outerwear close to the fire. “Can I interest you in a beverage of the non-alcoholic sort?”
“I’ll stick with water for now. I’ve been told it’s a necessity for survival.”
“Whoever told you that was a genius. You should stick with him.”
“Only if he feeds me soon. It’s cruel to make a person smell something that delicious and not feed them.”
“Like the smell?” he asked, a wicked glint in his eye. “Izzy got a new air freshener. It always smells like steak in here. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Oh, well. Like I said, I only wanted to come by and tell you I wouldn’t be stopping by for dinner. I’ll be lucky to make it home at all if I don’t leave now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you drive home on an empty stomach with no working windshield wipers. That would make me a cad.”
“I’d hate to damage your reputation.”
“My reputation has taken plenty of licks lately and managed to survive. And I hate to break it to you because I know you were hoping to ditch me tonight so you could run home and curl up with a good book, but you are well and truly stuck here for a little while. But I do promise to feed you and I promise to keep you out of the wine no matter how much you beg me to open a bottle.”
She looked at him out of serious eyes, her full lips still curved in a soft smile. “If I’m stuck, I’m stuck. Looks like I’m staying.”
The spit in Beckett’s mouth dried up and he had trouble swallowing. It wasn’t the words she said, but the way she’d said them. Her voice had gone husky and there was something in the way she looked at him that told him she’d known exactly where she’d end up for the night.
He arched a brow and said, “You knew all along you’d be staying the night here.”
“I also know that the steak in the oven will keep a good long while.”
“You’re going to have to tell me exactly what point you’re trying to get across, Marnie. I’m not as good as you are at reading minds.”
“I know. And I won’t read yours. I can promise you that.”
“It’s probably best you didn’t. I’ve been trying to figure out what you’ve got on under that bulky sweater since you took your coat off.”
“I didn’t have to read your mind to know that. You scare the hell out of me, Beckett Hamilton.”
“That kind of takes the edge off the foreplay we had going there. I don’t want you scared. I want you turned on.”
She laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks, and she dropped down into one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace.
“I remember you always being on your best behavior with women, even when I was a sixteen-year-old girl. You were a gentleman. What happened to that?”
“I feel overly comfortable with you. And I want you a lot more now than I did when you were sixteen. I’ve waited for you for fifteen years. I figure if I’m not direct it’ll be another fifteen years before you let me kiss you again.”
“It was a good kiss,” she said, smiling.
“I’ve regretted every day since that I didn’t start kissing you sooner.”
“The timing of it didn’t matter. We would’ve ended up in the same place if Harley hadn’t come along.”
His lips pressed together and he went stone still.
“No, don’t blame yourself,” she said, getting up and crossing over to him. “There’s no reason pretending like the past didn’t happen. It’s something between us and we’ve got to both live with it. It’s part of the reason I kept telling you no all these weeks.”
He nodded. “I figured as much. I couldn’t protect you then. Why would you think anything had changed now that you’re back?”
“No, you’ve got the wrong reason altogether. I told you no because I very much remember that kiss and what I felt like when I was with you. I knew where we were headed, even if you didn’t completely know. I saw us together. Under a willow down by the lake.”
He nodded and said, “There’s a big willow a couple of miles from here along a secluded trail. I used to ride there when I was younger when I wanted to think. It was my thinking place.”
“You would’ve taken me there,” she said. “And I would’ve let you with all the trust and innocence a sixteen-year-old girl could have. I would’ve let you kiss me and love me and more. And we would’ve kept sneaking back there because we wouldn’t have been able to get enough of each other.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good reason to keep telling me no all these weeks. It sounds like a reason to say yes. We could’ve been under that willow when there was still grass beneath us instead of snow. It’s going to be damned cold now.”
She laughed and he grinned at her response. “What I’m saying is I needed to say no to make sure I could. I was in a relationship for a couple of years.”
“I know,” he said. “I saw the articles in the paper. You looked happy.”
“Not happy in the relationship. But happy in my career and fulfilled. He played off that. And I let him because for the first time in my life I was getting to do exactly what I loved and making a good living from it. I needed space from that after I came here.”
“I can understand that. It takes time to move on after you close a certain door in your life.”
“I spent a lot of years in therapy, you know,” she said.
“I’m glad. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you growing up. And that you were able to hide it from all of us.”
“At first I thought maybe if I’d been born different he wouldn’t have had a reason to beat me.”
“Some people don’t need a reason. He would’ve found a reason one way or another.”
“That’s what my therapist said,” she said, nodding. “He was just a bad person. There’s no cure for that. And it took me a while to admit to my
self that part of me was glad the MacKenzies hadn’t been able to adopt me, even though I felt broken without them in my life. Even though I hated leaving you before we’d ever had a chance to get started.”
“Why were you glad?” he asked.
“Because for as long as I could remember my one goal was to have freedom. From my father and from Surrender. I was counting down the days until I could leave. I needed to know that I could survive on my own. And once I’d survived on my own I needed to discover that I hadn’t deserved what he’d done to me. I’m so fucked up, Beckett. Why would you want that?”
“Everyone’s got baggage, Marnie. Some more than others. But I’m sure your therapist also told you that having baggage doesn’t keep you from having the right to happiness. But you’ve got to play a part in finding that happiness.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing with Clive. I’d spent time on my own. Worked my way across the country and finally started a business of my own. I was ready for an adult relationship. I had it all. And then I found myself back in a situation where I was walking on eggshells all the time. The only thoughts in my head were doing things to please him so he’d be happy with me.”
The look on his face must’ve alerted her to his thoughts because she hurriedly said, “He wasn’t physically abusive,” she assured him. “He never hit me. But he controlled me. He owned me. But in the opposite way of my father. My father was always ashamed of my gift. He hated it and hated me because I had it and he didn’t. Clive was the opposite. He loved my gift. Loved that it brought attention to him and that his name was associated with mine. I was like a pet. And he never saw me as a woman or as someone of worth. And then I found out he’d forged papers so he was executor of everything I did. He literally owned me at that point, and I knew I had to get out before there was nothing left of me at all. I’m tired of being everyone’s afterthought. Of being something they need or want to use.”
“Wait a second,” Beckett said. “This guy lied and stole from you, and you just walked off without a fight?”
She sighed. “I don’t have a lot of fight left in me, Beckett. It was easier to walk away and start over. He can have what he wants. I’ve got my freedom again and that’s all that’s ever been important to me.”
“You’re crazy if you think a man like that is just going to let you walk away. I kept up with you over the years, Marnie. You’re worth millions. And if he owns your work, he’s going to keep coming after you for more because that’s a cash cow that’ll never dry up. Especially if you become a reclusive artist living in Nowhere, Montana, and your photographs become hard to find. Your prices will probably triple.”
“I was never important enough to Clive for him to think I’d be worth chasing after. I promise he probably hasn’t given me a thought since I walked out the door. He’s got business all over the world. I’m sure he already has someone filling my place.”
He shook his head at her naïveté. At her lack of self-worth. “Marnie, you’re an amazing woman. You’re smart and talented and you have a wit that can cut you off at the knees before you realize you’re laughing. You’re strong and stubborn and you’re right where you’re supposed to be. You just took a little detour on the way.”
“I know that,” she said. “I know this is where I’m supposed to be. I know that I’m brave and strong and that there’s more to me than people see. I’m not just poor white trash from Nowhere, Montana. I came from that, though. That’ll never change.”
“Does it matter?” he asked.
“It shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter as much as it used to. No one in all the other places I’ve lived knew where I came from. I was just me. And still they looked at me like I was a freak of nature.”
“They don’t understand you. Most people don’t understand when they see greatness. They’re too small minded.”
“I don’t care about other people just now. I’m more interested in something else.”
He recognized the change in her. She was done talking about herself. About the past. The look in her eyes was unmistakable, and he was starting to wonder if maybe they were taking things too fast. Yes, it had been fifteen years. But she’d been back in Surrender less than two months. Neither of them were teenagers anymore, but there was so much more at stake now.
She took a step back and then grabbed the bottom of her sweater with both hands and pulled it over her head.
He’d guessed wrong. The bra she wore was lacy and the dark blue of a midnight sky. Her breasts weren’t on the large side, but they swelled over the lacy cups and were high and round. She’d always been thin with delicate bones—fragile. Until you got to know her and realized the core of her was solid steel.
She leaned over to untie her boots and toed them off, all the while keeping her gaze on his, almost defiantly. All he could do was watch, mesmerized by her movements. When her fingers went to the button of her pants he finally got his wits about his and shook himself out of the stupor.
“Stop,” he said and she froze where she stood. Embarrassment pinkened her cheeks and she looked down at the ground, her hands dropping to her side.
Beckett went to her then and lifted her chin so she was forced to look him in the eye. “I’ve dreamed of taking your clothes off for fifteen years. Don’t take that pleasure away from me.” And then he kissed her before she could argue with him.
It was like the first time. But different. Her lips held the same shape and her taste was the same, but this wasn’t a kiss of innocence as it had once been. Those days were long gone. This was a kiss of longing and passion—years of built-up need.
She wanted him. The way she trembled in his arms wasn’t from fear, but excitement. Or maybe he was the one that trembled.
“Beckett,” she whispered. “Please take me to bed. Or here. Anywhere. I can’t wait.”
“The bed,” he said, kissing her throat. “It has to be the bed this time.”
His muscles strained as he told himself to go slow when the urge was to throw her over his shoulder and race up the stairs to his room. His heart pounded in his chest and her kisses became impatient—ravenous. She tugged at his sweater and pulled it over his head. He didn’t see where it landed. Didn’t care.
All he knew was that his mouth belonged fused to hers. Her fingers spread across his chest and her hands moved around to his back, pulling him closer. He began moving her backward toward the stairs, toeing off his shoes while his fingers found the clasp of her bra. She let it slide down her arms and drop to the ground, and then they were skin to skin and he thought nothing had ever felt as good.
“I can’t make it any farther,” she said. “Please.” Her fingers tugged at the button on his jeans and he breathed a sigh of relief when she got them undone and was pushing them down his hips. His cock was so hard it hurt and all he wanted was to be inside her. He’d waited this long. He could wait the few minutes it took to get upstairs to the bedroom.
To speed things along he shucked his jeans where he stood so he was completely naked, and then he hitched her up so her legs wrapped around him. He couldn’t stop kissing her. Touching her. He made it halfway up the stairs before he had to stop and taste the sweet buds of her nipples. Her back arched over the banister and he took a pink bud in his mouth, suckling gently until she writhed in his arms.
Her hips moved against him and he could feel the heat of her pussy through her jeans against his cock. He rocked against her as he suckled, and then he switched sides and paid attention to the other breast. Her fingers speared into his hair and pressed him tighter against her, and her mewls of pleasure grew louder.
He let go of the nipple with a wet pop and then grabbed hold of her, carrying her to the landing. He let her go so her feet touched the floor and his fingers went to the snap of her jeans. She helped him push them down and he briefly saw the matching navy panties that barely covered her before he pushed those down too.
“Hurry,” she whispered as he backed her toward the door of his bedroom. “Hurry, hur
ry.”
“No,” he managed to get out. “I want to see you. All of you. We’ve waited too long to hurry now.”
She growled in frustration and his shoulder hit the doorframe as they circled into the room. Her teeth nipped into his shoulder and her leg hooked around his hip, searching for him. She was wet. God, she was wet. He could feel her desire. Her need. But he didn’t give in and plunge into her as he wanted. Instead he picked her up and made it the rest of the way into the room, dumping her on the bed unceremoniously.
She laughed as he came down on top of her. And then the laugh turned into a moan as he kissed his way down her body, savoring the taste of her. He could smell the light scent of lemons from the soap she used. And the musk of her desire as he settled between her thighs.
Her hands grasped the covers and her breath came in short pants. Her folds were slick and creamy and her clit was swollen with need, and when his mouth latched onto the taut bud her hips arched and she let out a long, low moan of pleasure.
“What?—” Marnie gasped. “What are you doing?”
She’d never been more mortified in her life. She wasn’t experienced when it came to sex. Clive had never done any more than he’d had to when they’d been intimate, and she’d always thought of sex as more of a “man’s sport.” She’d had no idea that something like this was even possible.
“I’m making you come,” he said. His hands held her ass up and he fed on her like a starving man at a banquet. He suckled and licked, and then his tongue did something indescribable and rockets exploded behind her eyelids. She didn’t realize she’d screamed out her orgasm. She only knew she’d never felt anything like what she’d just experienced.
The only orgasms she’d ever had were ones she’d given herself or the spontaneous ones she experienced during an erotic dream. She’d never been able to come with Clive, but she’d always read that was normal with a lot of women, so she hadn’t thought much of it. Once they were finished with sex she either went to sleep or went into the bathroom and finished the job herself. He’d never noticed. She’d never known what she’d been missing.
