Dances Under the Harvest Moon (Heartache, TN 3)
Page 17
Just hearing her say it made his blood run hotter. Made his hands itch to touch her. But he knew once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. So he wanted to be very, very sure.
“I tried to do this the right way. Get to know you first. Go easy.”
“I know.” A sweet, slow smile curved her lips. “It’s my fault we’re running out of time together.”
“And my fault for starting an investigation that’s keeping you here when you want to be long gone.” He hated that there would be talk in town about the ethics of him being with her if they went out together. He hated it for her sake as much as his.
She was one of the most ethical people he knew, a fact he’d gleaned from the times she’d shown up at town council meetings to discuss the needs of the recreation department or suggesting ways the rec department could give back to the community. It was one of the reasons he’d thought she would make a great mayor. One of many reasons he gravitated toward her.
“I’ve got an idea.” She took his hand. “What do you say we not worry about any of it right now. It’s a beautiful, clear night.” With her other hand, she turned up the radio. A simple guitar melody filled the air. “And there’s a slow song playing in the background. Let’s just dance and enjoy it.”
“Dance?”
As if he needed any persuasion to wrap her in his arms.
She nodded “Right here. In the moonlight.”
He looked up at the Tennessee sky, the night so clear thousands of stars twinkled brightly overhead. The autumn breeze stirred the leaves in a soft shushing sound, as if nature were telling him to slow down and drink it all in.
Zach switched the car to accessory mode so that only the radio remained on, and then he slid out the driver’s door to open hers. The moon hung low on the horizon, slanting gray shadows over them as he held out a hand for her. Heather stepped across the brick walkway into his embrace as if she was meant to be there, her hands slipping around his neck, her breasts against his chest in a way that robbed him of speech.
Folding his arms around her, a slow shudder went through him. He’d been waiting for this—imagining this—for a while. The reality was much better than the fantasy. She tucked her head into his shoulder, her windblown riot of waves a soft place for him to rest his cheek. Breathe in her scent. Just be.
He knew that ignoring tomorrow wasn’t going to make the inevitable problems go away. But Heather had a point about simply enjoying the moment while they could.
“This was a good idea,” he whispered into her hair, hands stroking her back through the soft knit of her sweater.
Straightening, she tipped her face up to his. “Lots of country bars hang a big neon moon over the dance floor to try to simulate this, but nothing comes close to the real thing.”
She arched her neck to peer at the sky, giving him access to taste the skin along her jaw. Down the smooth column of her throat. She shivered when he kissed beneath her ear, a place he vowed to return to once they were inside and she was in his bed.
“I think it’s the woman I’m holding that is making it fun. Doesn’t matter if we were dancing at Charlie Ray’s or at your sister’s wedding.”
“Maybe you just think that because you’re moonstruck.” She slowed her step, not that they’d been moving at much more than a shuffle anyhow.
“Maybe you don’t give me enough credit for knowing what I want.” His hands grew restless, eager to cover more of her.
Or would that be uncover?
A little of both, maybe.
“Really?” She stood still as the song ended and a new tune played. “I think we both know what you want, Mayor.”
“If you knew, you’d be calling me by my first name.” He leaned away from her just long enough to reach over the car and switch off the ignition. He pocketed the keys.
“Maybe it turns me on to remember your position of power and authority,” she whispered in his ear when he returned to her.
Knowing she was teasing him didn’t begin to dull his body’s response.
“In that case, you can forget about using my first name.” He backed her toward the house, keeping a tight grip on her waist just in case she stumbled in the dark.
Also, because she felt so incredible against him.
“I have to let go for a minute.” He eased away from her slightly to pull out his cell phone and disarm the home alarm system.
“You are high-tech.” She twined an arm through his, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she watched him key in the codes.
“I called my digital security company Fortress Nine. With a name like that, I can’t afford to get hacked or have any break-ins. Too much bad PR.”
“I’ll let the local crooks know to stay away.” She followed him in as he opened the front door and switched on lights in the small foyer.
“You’re on a first-name basis with Heartache’s criminal element?” He locked the heavy double doors and used the commands on his phone to lower blinds all over his house while she tugged off her sweater.
“Actually, yes. A lot of them come to the rec department to do their community-service hours.” She peered around the corner into the living room. “Most of them are young guys, though. I’m sure they’ll sort themselves out.”
He guessed that nerves were setting in, no matter how much she wanted this night. In the darkened living room, she stood in front of the fireplace, staring at a photograph of his sister on the mantel.
He definitely didn’t want to think about Ellie right now. So, right when Heather opened her mouth to say something, he covered her lips with a kiss.
Thankfully, she seemed to agree with that, her body sinking into his as if she’d been waiting for him. He reached behind her to flip the switch on the fireplace, starting the flame to warm up the room.
And so he could see her.
She was lovely in the firelight, a handful of pale freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. Her baseball jersey had twisted to one side, the neckline gaping wide. He could see the light pink strap of her bra, right down to where it met the satin cupping one full, beautiful breast.
His whole body caught flame faster than the blaze in the hearth.
He pulled away from her just enough to notice her blue eyes were bright and unfocused. Her lips bee-stung and damp from his kiss.
“I might have used up all my restraint that time at your house when you kissed me.” His heart slugged so hard he thought she must hear it, echoing the truth of the words.
“I didn’t want any restraint then,” she said slowly. Clearly. “And I don’t want it now.”
The brakes were off with him and Heather Finley.
It was the only coherent thought in his head.
He pulled her to him, his mouth dropping to the pink satin strap to feast on her skin. She gripped his shoulders hard, her nails digging into the fabric of his jacket. He hadn’t guessed how much passion lurked beneath her organized, capable surface. Not until she’d started singing tonight. But now he knew. He sensed it in her hungry kisses and heard it in her throaty sighs as she tugged at his clothes, pulling the jacket down his shoulders and off.
His fingers worked on the buttons of her jersey, sliding them free one by one until she stood in front of him in nothing but her jeans and a few scraps of pink satin. She trembled everywhere he touched her, her whole body vibrating with a need he couldn’t wait to fulfill. He peeled the bra straps down her shoulders.
And not just for himself. Hell, he thought she might burst into flame if he didn’t touch her soon. Her skin flamed hot. Her fingers quivered as she unfastened his belt and splayed a hand along his abdomen. His muscles twitched in answer, more than ready to give her what she wanted.
Lifting her up, he carried her to the leather sofa closest to the fireplace. Her legs wrapped around him, bringing all her femin
ine warmth against the throbbing length of him. Every step he took told him just how damn perfect it would feel to be deep inside her.
When he tried to set her down, she wouldn’t let go, her legs locked tight around his waist while she worked the buttons of his shirt.
“Let go,” he urged, needing her naked as soon as possible. The heat between them had been a long, slow build. But it was consuming him now, singeing the edges of his brain and taking on a life of its own. Shrugging out of his shirt, he flicked open the clasp on her bra. Savored the sight of her high, perfect breasts.
“Heather.” He wanted her eyes on him one last time before they became totally lost in this. Needed that connection with her so she understood what this meant to him.
“Mmm?” She said it between kisses, her lips barely pausing as they molded to his chest, her tongue sneaking out to stroke lightly.
He cupped her cheeks in his hands, holding her delicate, perfect features. He studied her in the firelight until she opened her eyes and looked at him. Really looked at him.
Of course, she couldn’t see all the things he was feeling. All the ways he wanted this moment to mean something. Hell, he barely understood it himself. He’d been on the periphery of her world for so long he hadn’t realized how much he wanted inside. But since he couldn’t stand to think about losing her, he would focus all his effort on making sure this would be a night she’d never, ever forget.
Laying her down on the sofa, he tugged her jeans down long, slender legs. Stripped off the pink satin that clung to her hips.
His brain burned with the image of her body glowing in the firelight. Blue eyes locked on his. Unwavering. His heart quickened with the need to take her. Have her. Keep her. He discarded his pants and boxers, remembering belatedly to retrieve a condom before he set the pants aside.
Staring into her beautiful eyes, he made room for himself between her thighs. Steadied her hips. And slid deep inside her.
Finally.
* * *
HEATHER GAZED AT ZACH, mesmerized by what was happening between them. It wasn’t merely the amazing feel of all that male strength over her, around her, inside her. No, it was more than that. A soul-deep fire that she would have been just as happy not to acknowledge.
Zach had made her look in his eyes though, so she could see it. Whatever was happening between them burned away all her good sense. All her cares about anything but him. This.
Right now.
When at last he moved, she realized he’d been holding still, waiting for her to adjust. To relax. To be ready for what was happening. That movement turned her inside out, sent her arms around his neck to hold on tight.
The slick, heated glide of his body with hers undid her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t respond so much as simply feel. The hard plane of his chest against her sensitive breasts. The warmth of his breath on her neck as he lowered a kiss to a spot beneath her ear. The sensation of his tongue circling an erogenous zone she’d never known existed. She couldn’t catch her breath.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Her hands streaked down his back, savoring the feel of all that male muscle. Staring up at him through her lashes, she admired all that taut, lean strength his well-cut suits had only hinted at. She wanted to slow down. To take her time and make this night last and last, but her body didn’t want any part of slow.
Her heart thrummed at its own pace, caught up in the way Zach moved inside her. The way he kissed her neck. Cradled her hips in strong hands.
Then he rolled her on top of him, sitting up so she straddled him. Her hair blanketed her shoulders, her only covering as his eyes roamed over her. Devoured her like a starving man.
All it took was a few encouraging words in her ear, words whispered in a seductive breath along her damp, overheated neck. He told her she was beautiful. Sexy. That she drove him out of his mind...a litany of sweet words that were a teasing touch compared to the hard, relentless thrust of his body inside hers. It drove her higher and higher, pushing her over the sensual ledge until she flew apart in his arms in a haze of endless, lush sensation.
He joined her soon after, her body still pulsing around his when she felt the surge of his hips. The double time of his heart rate when he clutched her to his chest and held her as if he’d never let go.
It was perfect.
Absolutely freaking perfect.
But she couldn’t catch her breath to tell him. Couldn’t make her brain function beyond the soft cloud of thoughts in her head.
Yet, as he lay beside her on the sofa, both of them fighting to slow their breathing, Zach tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You want to know the best part?” he asked.
“It gets better?” she asked, proud of herself for making her tongue work.
“This was just the first time.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HEATHER WASN’T SURE how much time had passed when she felt a warm blanket sliding over her hip. She lay on the leather sofa, half wrapped in Zach’s arms, her cheek pillowed by one hard biceps. His other arm slid around her waist now that he had the blanket in place.
The light of the fire remained the only illumination, so she guessed they’d only been lying together for an hour or two. She should feel happy to have so much male warmth around her and the promise of more sensual touches throughout the night.
Instead, panic gnawed her gut as she became more fully awake. Because for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she could move.
“Zach.” His name burst from her lips in a fearful moment.
“I’m here.” He tugged her closer.
Pain shot through her hips as he moved her stiff, unyielding body.
“Wait.” Heart rate spiking, she gripped the couch cushion to steady herself in the wake of the pain.
She immediately regretted it, her knuckles protesting in a fiery scream.
“What is it?” He must have heard the worry in her voice. He levered himself up on one hip to peer into her face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she replied automatically, though she couldn’t begin to school her features in a reasonable semblance of okay.
Nearly every joint had locked into place. Worse, absolutely every joint burned with pain. Mentally, she went through them all. Toes. Ankles. Knees. Hips. Fingers. Wrists. Elbows. Shoulders. Even her jaw. God, how could talking hurt? The panic in her gut gnawed harder. What the hell had happened to her?
“You’re not okay.” Zach stared at her, concerned amber eyes unblinking. “What’s the matter?”
She closed her eyes. She couldn’t deal with his questions and all this hurt, too. And fear. It was too much.
“I must have fallen asleep wrong. I have a really bad crick in my neck.” While technically not a lie, the admission neglected to mention the hundred other places that hurt.
And not just a little, either.
The pain was so intense, a wave of nausea rocked her.
In the meantime, Zach was speaking. She didn’t know what he said because she was too busy battling the sick feeling in her stomach. But vaguely, she sensed him sliding off the couch to pull on his pants and crouch in front of her.
She opened her eyes and met his intense, assessing stare.
“I need a few minutes.” She forced her hand to move. Fingers to clench around the heavy fleece blanket he’d given her. She tugged it up to her face and hid inside it.
Not from him really. Just from the pain inflicted on her with every movement.
“You’re scaring the hell out of me, Heather.” Zach’s voice knifed straight through the fleecy folds to pierce her ears with a tone she’d never heard him use. “Start talking to me now or I’m calling an ambulance.”
She yanked down the blanket.
“No. My God, no.” Fear warred with pain
, battling all her fiery hurt into submission so she could prop up on an elbow. “It’s happened before. I’ll be okay.”
His palm covered her forehead.
“You’re pale. You’re burning up.” He reached for his cell phone. “You’re getting medical treatment.”
“No.” She clawed the phone awkwardly from his hand. “Please, Zach. My family can’t know about this.”
“Can’t know about what?” The concern she’d seen in his eyes earlier had been replaced by frustration. Anger, even.
Damn it, she was the one in pain. Why did she have to justify her reasons for keeping it to herself? Finally, she let herself say the words.
“I was recently diagnosed with a chronic condition. I was supposed to see a doctor in Charlotte, but I had to cancel my appointment when—”
“What condition?” His hand lingered near the phone she still held captive.
Logically, she knew it shouldn’t matter that she had decided to keep her health issues quiet. But her family was unique. Her mother’s tendency to see crisis in every situation had taught her to keep upheaval to a minimum. And damn it, this problem was hers. It was not about her mom.
“An autoimmune issue. But I’ve got some medicine at home, Zach. I just need more rest.”
“Your fever is way too high.” He cut her off. He grabbed his phone and jammed it in his pocket. “I’m bringing you to the ER because whatever you’re doing to take care of yourself, it’s not working.”
“Not in town.” She wouldn’t cave on that. No way in hell did she want the news of this getting back to her family—her mother—and adding to the Finley drama. “I can’t drive myself. But I won’t go somewhere local.”
Damn it. She hated relying on other people. Hated being in this position where she felt weak and hurt and couldn’t stand up for herself. This was why she wanted to get out of town.
But right now she hurt too much to be a good advocate for herself. Something had to be really wrong, something more than arthritis. Virtually everything she did was colored by waves of pain that churned nausea and forced her to lie back down. And that’s exactly what she did now. Gently, she placed her head back on the leather sofa and listened to Zach rummage around the room to find her clothes.