by Arlene James
It meant careful planning and timing—and courage, a great deal of courage. She took a leaf from her mother's book in that regard. Once she'd decided on a plan, she only had to talk herself into it. For that reason she stripped down to her panties and stood before the cloudy cheval mirror in the comer of her room, taking stock. She started at the bottom. Her feet were average in size, slender with high arches. She kept the cuticles pushed back on her toenails and the ends neatly trimmed, but they were just feet. No, that wasn't right. They were beautiful feet, sexy feet. That's
;*ittf • Irene had always told herself when she was painting her
jetaails. • ' . •
s earoline smiled at the memory. Her feet were exact duplicates
of lier mother's. They would drive Jesse wild even without bright
jet enamel. She moved on to her calves. She had good legs. She'd
^been.told so countless times. Even Irene had envied her legs. Irene herself tended to be a tad heavy in the thighs, and she'd always
; said it was unfair that Caroline had such good ones when she was
i unwilling to use them. Usually she said that while performing laborious leg lifts on the floor. A little heaviness about the thighs hadn't slowed Irene any, though. Caroline remembered her
"* Mother standing before the mirror in a tight, black leather mini-
;'skirt.
"You are a confection, Caroline. Jesse is going to eat you up. He won't be able to help himself."
She went on to her lower body. She'd always been most dis-satisfied with this portion of herself. How could her hipbones jut out even slightly and her belly still round up like that? Irene had said that the hipbones meant she would be a good bearer of children and that men often preferred a slightly rounded belly on a slender woman. She was living proof, she would say. So, this was all right, too.
"He'll take one look and know you should be having his ba-bies," Caroline promised herself. - Her waist was narrow and her midriff firm, and if her breasts
; weren't as ample as her mother's, they would improve after she'd had her first child. She wished all the fullness wasn't underneath, though. They plumped up nicely in a push-up bra, but Jesse wasn't going to make love to her in her bra. If it happened, he would have to be attracted to their natural shape. She wondered if her mother had been right about the disadvantages of sleeping
:.®a her stomach, not that it mattered. She'd never been able to teak the habit. Ah, well, she had what she had and that was all
: there Vas to it. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, sucking in her belly and thrusting forward her breasts. At least her ~skin was good. Irene always said that bare skin was a
jiroman's best asset, and the more the better. Caroline could only hope that she was right. :,
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Turning, she scooped her hair over one shoulder and swept her gaze downward over her back and bottom. Irene had always thought her own rear end was good, and Caroline had seen enough men patting and squeezing it to believe that Irene was right. So she could only conclude that her bottom was good enough. She was not quite as plump there as her mother, but surely that was best since she was not quite as top-heavy as Irene, either. She put a hand on her hip and shifted her weight, pleased that nothing jiggled that shouldn't. Still, it was the front that counted most. She turned back to look herself over one more time. She wouldn't be chosen as this month's centerfold, but she didn't think anyone would throw rocks at her, either. If she worked this right, Jesse wouldn't be throwing, he'd be grabbing.
"You can do it, Caroline," she told herself. "If bare skin is what it takes, then it's bare skin he's going to get."
She dressed again and went downstairs to start lunch. It was past the normal time for it, but that was all part of her design. She had to set the stage just right. It had to look like an accident. Otherwise he'd hide behind his outrage and she would lose her chance.
She was throwing together thick sandwiches and opening cans of soup when the men came in. Tiger was first into the kitchen. He lifted both brows when he saw the mess on the counters and the bare table. Handsome, who was right behind him, let out a long, low whistle, but it was Jesse to whom Caroline addressed herself.
"I let the time get away from me," she said apologetically. "I was posting accounts mis morning, and I just forgot to watch the clock."
"You were posting accounts this morning?" he echoed.
She winced. "I know. It was stupid, this being Wednesday. I have the bathrooms to do, and now I've gotten a late start." She slung a sandwich on a plate at the table. Handsome pulled out a chair and sat down. "Dinner may be late because of it," she went on.
Tiger watched Handsome attack the sandwich and said, "Heck, Miss Caroline, don't you worry about my dinner. I can pick up something on the way home tonight."
•WI have a date,'' Handsome announced around a mouthful of ;, bread and meat.
I* Caroline dispensed a smile. "That's thoughtful of you, Tiger. 31 make it up to you. One day real soon I'll bake you that co-Miut cake you like so much."
Tiger beamed. "Heck, I'd skip dinner once a week for that." Caroline laughed, dumped a sandwich on a plate and shoved it v, thim. "No need for that." She glanced at Jesse. "I'll make L$ours now and get the soup on."
| "No-rush," he said, sitting down at the head of the table. |<'Listen, I can clean my own bathroom, if you want. It's not like ::l haven't cleaned it before."
"I'll get to it," she said briskly, slathering mustard on lightly 'toasted bread. . "I don't mind," he insisted.
She turned her face away to hide the quirk of a smile. "We'll
;see."
Actually, he would see. Everything. She could only pray that
it would be enough.
He knocked off at four-thirty sharp. It was almost too cold to work the horses, anyway, and the clouds were banking over the mountains for another snow. Had it ever snowed so much hi a single season before? If so, he couldn't remember it. The front walk was banked chest deep. In the mountains whole buildings were covered to the roofline. Crews were out clearing roads day
; and night, and the police were routinely checking the higher residences. Some days simply weren't fit for roan or beast, but he trudged out as far as the barn, anyway, keeping himself busy and away from Caroline. Judging by the buildup of clouds, tomorrow promised to be just such a day. Maybe he'd stay in and work on the accounts. Yeah, right. He could imagine how that would end up: Caroline on his lap again, soft and warm and oh, so willing. Just the thought of it kept him warm all the way to the house.
-.-: With an effort of will that was becoming more and more dif-
ficult, he pushed away thoughts of touching Caroline, stepped up
into the back hall and divested himself of his outerwear. By the
jtae everything was property stowed, he was well aware that his
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dinner would indeed be late, for the silence and complete absence of savory aroma told him clearly that the meal had not yet even been started. Ah, well. Maybe he could speed things along. He checked the kitchen just to be sure, found it as expected, helped himself to a banana from the bowl of fruit in the center of the table and moved lightly down the hall as he peeled it and bit off the end.
He climbed the stairs, devouring the remaining banana in three bites. He carried the peel into his room and dropped it into the empty wastebasket behind the door, men began unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling them back as he moved past the bed with its saddle-blanket spread and the mission-style cupboard that he used as a dresser. He paused near the open door to his bathroom, hearing a trickle of water. Either he'd left the water running in the sink or Caroline was in there cleaning. If it was Caroline, he'd tell her to leave it and go ahead with dinner. He could finish up himself. He stepped into the doorway. The first thing he saw was the pile of neatly folded clothing on the counter near the sink, but the significance of that didn't have time to register, for movement n
ear the shower immediately snagged his attention. He turned his head. And froze.
His heart stopped. His jaw dropped. His lungs seized. His eyes widened to take in the sight before him.
Caroline kneeled on the tile floor, where she had been scrubbing the bottom of the shower with one hand while holding back her hair with the other. Naked.
Her head turned, and she saw him, but her expression didn't register. He couldn't take it in; all that pale, creamy skin got in the way. While he gaped and ogled and forgot to breathe, she slowly stood, tossing away the scrub brush with a muted clatter. With a minimum of movement, she rinsed her hand and twisted off the water, and all the while her gaze never left his face. She pushed her hair back and sucked in her belly, her arms hanging limply at her sides. He shook his head. Just the idea that she had to suck in any portion of that lush, svelte figure was beyond absurd. She was perfect, wildly perfect.
His gaze moved over her greedily, from her angel's face and long sweep of pale hair to the elegant column of her throat and
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the dainty vee of her collarbones where they met high in the center of her chest and downward. Her breasts were round and firm, slightly fuller underneath, the nipples peaking in saucy points tilted slightly upward, inviting a man's hands and mouth. Her rib cage was tiny, her waist amazingly narrow. The pucker of her navel pressed gently inward, and her belly rounded sweetly between the delicate protrusions of her hipbones, tapering to a small triangle of fine ash-blond hair only slightly darker than that on her head. He closed his eyes then, imagining those long, slender legs wrapping around him as he plumbed the female depths held in secret beneath that silky triangle.
He felt rather than heard her move toward him, and his eyes opened despite his best efforts to stay with the fantasy, though why he wanted to became a mystery the moment he looked at her again. She was utterly female, as delicate as a piece of porcelain, and his for the taking. He'd never been more aware of that than now. When she reached uncertainly for the towel folded neatly over the ring bolted to the end of the cabinet, he stopped her instinctively, his big, rough hand closing over her slender wrist, and then she was in his arms, standing literally on his booted toes, her body pressed against him, light as feathers, all cool skin and smoldering heat at the same time.
Her mouth met his. Her arms twined around his neck.
"Jesse," she said between slow, hungry kisses. "Jesse, Jesse, Jesse..."
The sound of his whispered name brushed across his nerve endings, scorching and cooling, singing and chanting, telling him relentlessly that he would be a fool to pass this by, whatever the consequences. Giving in was the most selfish thing he'd ever done, but he did it without argument or thought. Locking both arms around her, he lifted her against him and backed through the doorway, quieting her with his mouth. It wasn't a conscious decision but an inevitability that he couldn't even think about, not with her mouth parting beneath his lips and her tongue rubbing against Ms, not with her hands tugging at his shirttail as he carried her to the bed. He set her on her feet and grabbed the hem himself, yanking it off over his head. By the time the outer one was gone, she had the other hiked up under his arms. He made short
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spread her legs for him, restlessly scissoring them until he planted himself heavily between them and pinned her with the weight of iiis upper body.
She clutched his head as he suckled her and lightly scraped her hard little nipple with his teeth. Heaving and writhing beneath torn, she told him eloquently of the depth of her need, and he was happy to satisfy the sharp edge of that need immediately. Holding ber at the waist with both hands, he slid downward again, dropping his legs off the side of the bed and trailing wet kisses over mat sweet belly until he came to the juncture of her thighs. She
work of it and threw back the bedcovers with one arm, reaching for her with the other. She came into the curve of his arm as she belonged there, and he swung her down onto the bed even as she grappled with his belt
When he began to straighten, she made a sound of protest, wrapped both arms around his neck and hung on. Bending over her, he struggled blindly with his boots and tossed them aside to clunk heavily against the floor. Suddenly she released him and went to work on his belt again. He managed to get one sock off before she dispensed with the belt. Then she encountered the but-
tons of his fly and growled impatiently as she struggled with thej |wefced in her breath in shock when he kissed her there, but her
first He laughed, absurdly happy, and slipped the metal buttons~l free with deft, practiced flicks of one hand while she lifted herl mouth to his and demanded with her kiss that he hurry. To quiet and placate her, he used his free hand to cup her breast. It was his first inkling of just how sensual this woman was.
She rose up, literally, not at all mollified but instead frantically insistent. He shoved down his pants and both layers of underwear and kicked until he was free of them. After a weak attempt at that last sock, he left the damned thing and climbed into bed with her. She pulled him down on top of her, her legs together, her arms locked about his shoulders. Answering her eagerness with his own, he pushed her head into the pillow with the force of his kiss. His pillow. His bed. His woman. He couldn't deny that, didn't want to. Even knowing that it shouldn't be so, that he would later regret what they did here tonight, he couldn't abandon this unexpected joy.
She felt like heaven beneath him, surprisingly soft and yet firm, less slight than she had in his arms. In contrast, he felt like a great hulking brute, so afraid he would hurt her, bruise her, disappoint her. He reached through the veil of her silky hair 'and kneaded her heated flesh. The feel of that sleek, creamy skia created a need to taste it. Sliding his mouth from hers, he kissed her cheek and the curve of her jaw. The vulnerability of her throat beckoned him, and he curled his body in order to reach it. She arched, thrusting her breasts against his chest, and suddenly mat was where he needed to be. Sliding downward, he filled first his hands and then his mouth with her breasts. That was when she
body instantly relaxed, totally accepting of everything he would give it He slid his hands beneath her knees and lifted them, leaving her feet flat upon the bed. With his hands he pressed her thighs wide apart
j He had never seen anything so beautiful as this woman, never wasted anything so much as he wanted to give her this pleasure. He lowered his head, and with the first flick of his tongue, she came up off the bed. With the next, she clamped both hands into iiis hair and pressed him against her. She was like riding a wild bronc, bucking and rotating, uncertain what she wanted but reaching for it with everything she had in her. He made sure she got it, his own flesh leaping and throbbing as she cried out, arching her back and pulling her heels tight against her buttocks. He used his teeth, shaking with the need to be gentie, to give and not yet take, until she screamed. Qnly then did he surge upward, his hand sliding between her legs as he gave her a taste of herself with his lips and tongue.
She curled her fingers around the blades of his shoulders, digging in her nails, driving her own tongue into his mouth. He pinched and plucked, driving her mad and happy to do it When he sensed that the moment was on her again, he pulled back so he could watch her face as he slowly pushed first one finger and then two up inside her. Panting, she wrapped arms and legs mound him, her eyes mere slits, body heaving. When the first wave shook her, she clamped down on it.
"No!" she gasped. "Not again, not without you!" ; "Yes," he said, just for the pleasure of saying it, of knowing
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that he could make her come again and again, no matter her protests. He smoothed her hair away from her face with one hand, his upper body weight balanced on that elbow, while with the other hand he plumbed her deepest secrets and made her body sing unknown songs until she convulsed beneath him. He stroked her through it, watching the muscles of her face go rigid and slacken in the same instant. Her nipples grew into small, round peaks atop the swollen softness of her breast
s. Jaws clamped,! nostrils flaring, she moaned through her teeth, her lips peeling back. She looked as though she could take bites of him, great, hefty chunks. Tears came to his eyes simply because he had never seen a sight more wonderful than this woman in the throes of a climax that he had given her.
As the crest receded, he let himself concentrate on the feel of her, the sleek, smooth skin, taut muscles and rounded softness pressed to his own body, the wet pull of her woman's core on his fingers. He felt ready to burst now. Just the thought of pushing himself into that tight, wet heat was almost more man he could bear. He laid his forehead against hers, fighting back the surges of his own body, until she began to move beneath him once more, rhythmically at first and then with growing urgency. Only then did he take his hand away. Blindly she pulled at him, her hands moving restlessly over bis back and shoulders. For her the des-tination was not enough, she needed, demanded, the journey itself, every step of it, every inch. He was so very glad, so deeply, desperately grateful. Positioning himself, he smoothed the hair from her face.
