They had a future. She couldn’t say anything else with certainty, about that or any other aspect of life. But it was enough.
Her head tilted to one side on its own, giving him better access, and he trailed kisses along the skin where a necklace would be if she’d worn one while his hands slid slowly from her shoulders to her wrists. He folded her arms across her middle and held her against the hard muscled strength of his body as his kisses teased and promised, never paying any particular bit of skin the attention it craved but moving on.
Sensation didn’t hum through her. It burned. Each place he touched her, her muscles tensed and her nerves rippled with a rush of raw, electric pleasure. The tiniest contact, even his breath on her skin, stoked the need building inside her. Her own breathing was nothing but shallow gasps, her chest too tight to allow anything more, and she was quivering deep in her gut when he brushed his mouth across her ear.
She jumped, as much as she could in the confines of his embrace, and a sound part giggle, part shriek, escaped her. “That tickles.”
“Ah, good to know. Does this tickle?” Freeing his hands, he slowly pulled the tab of the dress zipper down her back, pushing aside hair and fabric, and he kissed her at the base of her neck, his tongue bathing the skin, giving a tiny nip before laving it again.
“N-no.” For such a short word, it sounded dragged out of her in a voice so thick and raspy she hardly recognized it.
“How about this?” His powerful hands were gentle as he pushed the dress off her arms, touching her far too much for such a simple task, not nearly enough. When her arms were free, when the dress was bunched around her waist, he lost interest in it and turned his attention to her breasts instead.
Therese closed her eyes and let her head fall back against Keegan’s shoulder. It was just too much effort to keep them open, too much strength to hold it up, when she needed all her will to not collapse at his feet. She’d been so alone for so long, craving intimacy the way she craved oxygen but refusing to recognize it. Every part of her body, even her hair, was burning, sensitized to his touch, wanting more, needing it.
He traced the lace edges of her bra, stroked across the slick satin, one moment so light she barely felt it, the next with the pressure she craved. When he finally closed his fingertips around her nipples, sweet pain rocketed through her, intense and breath-stealing, and she pivoted in his arms, clasping her hands to his cheeks, kissing him, tasting him, stroking his tongue with hers.
When he pushed her back too soon, she whimpered, but he shushed her. “We’ve got time,” he murmured, but judging by the strained look on his face—and the straining of his body against her pelvis—he wasn’t any steadier than she was. Maybe she should push him over the edge and jump with him.
“Time,” she repeated with a nod. She took a step back, then another, putting a few feet between them before sliding her hands beneath the fabric at her waist and slowly pushing the dress over her hips, giving a little shimmy to help it in its fall to the floor. Still wearing the killer heels, she stepped out of the pile of soft color, then turned in a slow circle. “What do you think?”
“Green is definitely your color.” His voice was unsteady, and his gaze burned. So much heat radiated from him that she was surprised he didn’t glow in the dark. She was just as surprised that she hadn’t self-combusted.
He reached for her, but she backed away, bending to retrieve the dress, shaking it out, laying it on the couch. The kids might guess what she and Keegan had done, but no need to help them reach that conclusion.
Then she walked to the bed, folded back the covers, and lay down on her side, propped on one elbow, one leg stretched out straight, the other bent at the knee. “Time,” she repeated. “Let’s not waste any of it. Good candy’s not the only thing meant to be savored.”
* * *
Savor might be his new favorite word, Keegan thought some time later, once his heart rate had dropped below a hundred beats a second and his muscles had finally stopped twitching and his breaths were easier to come by. He’d savored every moment, every touch, every taste, every kiss, and by the time they’d finished, he was sure of one thing.
He owed Major Matheson a hell of a debt for bringing Therese and his kids into his life.
He’d disposed of the condom in the bathroom, then returned to the bed where she lay on her back, her long pale body gleaming in the pitiful illumination. He wanted to turn on every light in the room, to banish every shadow and see every inch of her, but when he’d reached for the bedside lamp, she’d paralyzed him with an intimate caress, and he’d forgotten everything but her.
The bedspread and blanket lay in a jumble on the floor, along with her bra, panties, those sexy shoes, and his clothes. He lay next to her, facing her, head on his hand, and studied her—hair tumbled across the pillow, flushed cheeks, moist lips—intently enough to make her laugh self-consciously. “What are you doing?”
“Looking. Just looking.” He wanted to remember everything about this moment. The faint fragrance of her perfume. The exact taste of her mouth—rich chocolate, hazelnut, and wine. The sweet, lazy, well-pleasured look in her eyes. The earring dangling drunkenly to the side, catching in her hair. And the way he felt. The satisfaction. The still-there desire. The possessiveness. The sense of absolute rightness.
“What do you see?” Did she hear the wistful uncertainty in her voice?
“The beautiful woman who has been waiting a long time for me even if she didn’t know it.”
Her smile came slowly, the one that made her look like the most important woman ever in his life, and she raised her hand to his jaw, cupping it gently as she whispered, “I knew it somewhere.”
She kissed him then, pushing him onto his back, rising up over him. Kissing was sweet and innocent and fun. It was serious fun when she settled over him, her legs flanking his thighs, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her hands sending tingles of electricity through him with every stroke. His body was quick to respond. Ten seconds into the kiss, he was hard again, as if he hadn’t fiercely come less than ten minutes before.
He was damn near sizzling when she stretched away long enough to reach a condom on the nightstand, and he damn near came when she deliberately fumbled it into place. Only sheer determination held him together as she slid deeply, fully over him, and then the heat of her, the tightness of her, took what little control he had.
It was fast and hard and primal, and neither of them lasted more than moments, her cries mixed with the guttural groan that was all he could form. She collapsed against him, her skin as slick with sweat as his, her breathing as ragged. Her hair, damp and smelling of something sweet, drifted against his skin, silken and soft, losing its waves fast.
He liked the wild-abandon look about her and told her so two hours later when they finally, reluctantly left the bed and dressed.
“Wild abandon,” she repeated, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me wild before. Most people see”—she zipped her dress and gestured toward herself with a flourish—“a thirty-something mother, teacher, churchgoer, widow.”
“That’s okay. I’d rather they not see you this way.” He nodded toward the bed as he finished buttoning his shirt, then lifted the covers from the floor. By the time he turned again, she was wiggling into her heels and combing her fingers through her hair. She picked up her purse, slung the strap over her shoulder, and faced him. “Well, do we look presentable enough for our kids?”
He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her near, nuzzling her throat. “Mariah’s going to be asleep, Jacob wouldn’t notice if we walked in wearing each other’s clothes, and if Abby suspects anything, she’ll just roll her eyes and go, ‘Eww, that’s disgusting.’”
Therese laughed, rested her forehead against his for a moment, then pulled back. “Let’s face the lions.”
The clock outside Tallgrass National Bank showed it was 10:37. Probably the earliest end to a date since he was fifteen, but Therese ha
dn’t been comfortable about leaving the kids alone any later. Besides, there was always tomorrow…and the next day and the next ten thousand days.
The neighborhood was quiet when he turned onto Cheyenne Street. Since moving out of his mom’s house, Keegan had always lived in apartment complexes or barracks, where Saturday nights were rarely quiet. A peaceful family neighborhood was something he could get used to.
At the Matheson house, lights shone through the living room windows and from one bedroom upstairs. The television was on when they went inside, and Abby was curled at the end of the sofa, her head pillowed on the arm, while Mariah occupied the other two-thirds, snoring softly.
Looking up, Abby muted the television and straightened as they came into the room. “Wow. Four and a half hours. That’s a long time for dinner.”
Keegan was amused to see a faint blush color Therese’s cheeks, which she tried to hide by sitting in an armchair and bending to remove her shoes. “We took a walk, and we had dinner on the porch at Luca’s.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “It’s a restaurant. The idea is to eat and leave, not take up residence.” To Keegan, she added, “She and her margarita friends think one meal makes the table theirs for the rest of the night.”
“Well, good food and good company are meant to be savored.” He restrained a grin and went on to cover the sound of Therese’s choking cough. “Did Mariah behave?”
“Better for me than she does for you.”
“She likes you more than she does me.”
Something flitted through Abby’s eyes—surprise, maybe a little pleasure at the thought. Gazing at her, he saw that Therese had been right earlier: the girl needed affection. She tried hard to act like she didn’t care about anything, but she was thirteen. Caring too much defined thirteen-year-old girls. So did acting out.
She shrugged, and the emotion, whatever it was, disappeared. “She ate two pieces of pizza, a bunch of grapes, some yogurt, and four cookies.” A shudder rocketed through her. “Then, because she was wearing pizza, yogurt, and chocolate chips, I gave her a bath, and she fell asleep while her hair was still damp. That means you’ll have to wet it in the morning to make it behave. Not wash it. Just spray it a bit.”
He knew that. He hadn’t worn a high-and-tight forever. But since so many other things about Mariah were a mystery, he appreciated her telling him. Still, he couldn’t resist teasing her a bit. “Will the sprayer in the kitchen sink work?”
And there were the eye roll and the heaving sigh. “I figured you’d be clueless, so I put a spray bottle in her bag. What was your mother thinking? How could she trust you all on your own with a little girl?”
“Hey, I’m not totally clueless,” he said as she passed on her way out.
She turned back in the doorway, one hand on her hip, one brow arched. “You let her fall in the toilet and puke in the bathtub.”
From behind him came Therese’s soft voice. “She’s got you there, Keegan.”
“Yeah, well, that first morning with her wasn’t my best.”
“Neither was the night before,” Abby added helpfully.
He rubbed his jaw as they regarded him with similar expressions of amusement mixed with pity. “Yeah,” he said again. Even if he’d disagreed with them, he knew better than to argue with two females. “But I’m learning. Thanks, Abby.”
Once more, surprise flashed across her face. She moved as if to turn away, so he spoke again quickly. “You’re a sweetheart.”
This time she went still. Her mouth worked, but nothing came out. Then abruptly she turned and all but ran up the stairs. Seconds later came the click, not a slam, of her bedroom door.
Therese swore quietly and fluidly, words he hadn’t heard her say before. He stared at the stairs a moment longer, then went to sit on the footstool that matched her chair. “Hey. You kiss me with that mouth.”
Her hands covered her face. “No matter how much she tests me, I’m the grown-up here. I should have managed better. This is my failure.”
He pried one hand away, then the other. “It’s not a failure, Therese. She’s old enough to know that behaviors have consequence. And you both went through some tough times. Neither of you was quite ready to deal with each other.” And most importantly…“It’s nothing that can’t be undone. My mom has spent her entire life mothering kids, and she honestly believes there isn’t any problem that can’t be solved with enough love and affection and respect.”
And the respect went both ways. Therese deserved it for no other reason than taking in and keeping Abby, but Abby deserved it, too. Just as it was tough for Therese to keep trying when all she got for her efforts was rejection, it was hard for Abby to try at all when she knew the only person who would have her around did it out of obligation and responsibility and not because she actually wanted her.
Therese’s fingers curled tightly around his. “Your mom’s a good woman, and she’s raised a good son.”
“She would be the first to agree with you.” He stood and used his grip to pull her to her feet. “I’d better take the cookie monster and go.” But he didn’t let go of her right away. Without the heels, her head came about to his shoulder, and when he pulled her up snug against him, they touched in different places than he’d become accustomed to. Exploring those differences seemed a great way to spend an hour or two, but not with Mariah snoozing a few feet away.
“Don’t beat yourself up about Abby. Give both you and her another chance.” He meant the words seriously, for her sake, for Abby’s sake, but there was also something selfish underlying them. It was unfair for Mariah to meet her half sister, then lose her if Abby went to live elsewhere.
He kissed Therese, intending a quick, good-night-her-kids-were-upstairs kiss, but instantly his blood turned hot, and want and bone-deep need shot through him. If it hadn’t been for a thump somewhere above them, there was no telling where they would have stopped.
Though he would draw a line at sneaking into and out of her bedroom.
When he scooped up Mariah, her body was warm and limp, her hair flat on one side, the curls wiry and kinked on the other. She opened her eyes only for a moment, smiled sweetly at him, then snuggled close. Curling her hand around his shirt between two buttons, she sighed contentedly, and emotion swelled until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow.
“You’re lucky,” Therese murmured. “Not many men can pinpoint the exact moment they fell in love with their child.”
His glance was dazed, and his mouth opened to automatically protest, but it closed again. It was a major concept, something he’d been determined to avoid from the moment he’d gotten custody of Mariah. Hell, he’d avoided anything to do with her for a month because he didn’t want to care about her. He didn’t want to put himself on the hook for raising another man’s kid. He didn’t want to risk getting involved in case Sabrina changed her mind and came back to reclaim her.
But he was on the hook and he was involved and Sabrina coming back didn’t automatically mean he’d lose her. Not if he’d made a good home for her, provided her with family who loved her, given her stability.
Not if he loved her, too.
Therese was smiling at him, those dark eyes of hers smug, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. No admission, no denial, no dancing around the facts. He needed a little time to process things. He’d come to Tallgrass to get Mariah out of his life and into the family where she belonged. Instead, he’d found a family where they both belonged.
This trip wasn’t turning out at all the way he’d planned.
He was incredibly lucky for that.
* * *
When Therese arrived at Three Amigos Tuesday evening, Carly had already staked out a seat at the patio tables shoved together and sat with a margarita that hadn’t been touched and a travel magazine open in front of her.
“Ooh, honeymoon planning.” Therese slid into the chair beside her.
A full, lovely, in-love smile bloomed across Carly’s face. “A trip to celebrate our we
dding, since we jumped ahead to the honeymoon part about an hour after the proposal.”
“What’s in the running?” Therese knew Carly loved the beach, but how comfortable would Dane, still adjusting to the fact that his leg was gone, feel about a tropical destination?
“No cruise. That was what Jeff and I did. We’re actually thinking about Italy. He was stationed there for a while, and he says I’d love it.”
“What’s not to love? The food, the wine, the history, the gorgeous men. Oh, wait, you’re taking your own gorgeous man with you.”
“It sounds incredible, doesn’t it? Though, frankly, I’d be happy renting a cabin at the lake. I’m getting Dane. Everything else is just icing on the wedding cake.” Carly closed the magazine, sat back, and narrowed her gaze. “You look different. I’ve always thought you seemed serene, even when you were simmering inside, but now you look really serene, both inside and out.”
Therese blushed, and Carly’s mouth and eyes both rounded. Even her voice took on a rounded tone. “Have you been getting down and dirty with Keegan?”
Pleasure spread through Therese, the way it had for three days now, sweet and warm, though sometimes it had a needy edge that made her feel desirable and feminine and alive again. “We’re doing our best. Do you know how hard it is to find privacy with three kids, one of whom can’t be left alone for five minutes?” Though they’d managed a few hours alone on Sunday afternoon while the kids went to a movie. And another dinner out Monday evening—fast food, then a few hours in bed—while Abby and Jacob watched Mariah.
“Hey, Dane and I are always available to babysit. Since we threw away the condoms the first night, it’d be practice for us.”
A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) Page 24
