It didn't help. By the time Susanna started the next song, singing, "There were chills up my spine," Lucy was lost. I want that, she thought. I want to look at somebody and feel that. I want to touch somebody and feel that. Susanna sang on, smoothing out the refrain again, and Lucy thought, Not somebody. Him. She'd been focusing on Daisy, on Pepper, on the movie, but underneath all of it, he'd hummed in her blood, making her breathe faster when he was close, making her look for him when he wasn't.
Lust, she told herself. Perfectly understandable. Perfectly healthy.
And really a good deal for J.T., too, and not just for the sex. He was so reserved, it was probably hard for him to connect with people- real connection, not Althea connection. I could give him real warmth. I could rescue him… She let herself fantasize his mouth hard on hers, hot on her body, and everything faded away as the heat spread until Susanna finished her last slow verse. Then Lucy thought, Enough waiting. Nothing wrong with going after a good healthy boink with a good healthy guy after a very tough day. Get rid of some tension, share some warmth.
Make love with J.T. until her brain melted.
Okay, I want him, she thought, relieved to acknowledge it.
And I want him now.
Then she put down her scotch, turned off the iPod, found her flashlight, and went out into the woods to get him.
Chapter 14
The thing about the woods at night, Lucy thought as she walked along the side of the road, was that it was dark. Really dark with the trees branching over the road, shutting out the moon, dark enough that the miniflashlight from her purse was fairly ridiculous. Gator dark, one might say. Sufferin' Sappho, it's dark. She thought about going back and then thought, No, and kept going, shining her flash on the ground ahead. She was not going to spend another night trying not to think about what she wanted when she could have him.
She was pretty sure she could have him.
She tripped over something in the grass and played the flash over it, remembering how J.T. had tracked down Pepper, fire ruts, the dirt freshly cut. Had to be J.T. and his big-wheeled Jeep. She followed the ruts with her flash but they disappeared into the trees along what could barely be called a road, more an afterthought at the end of one. The woods got really dark, darkest where the ruts went, and she thought, It didn't used to be this hard to get a guy to sleep with me, and followed them in.
As soon as the real road disappeared behind her, she lost her sense of direction and stuck with the ruts as her only hope, not only of finding J.T. but of ever getting out again. And when she found the Jeep and he wasn't in it, she had a moment of panic. Going on would be suicidally stupid, staying here would be unbearably frustrating, going back would be worse than the other two combined.
"J.T.?" she called into the darkness and waited a moment. Nothing. Oh, come on, she thought. How far into the woods could he have gone? "J.T.?" she called again, louder this time, and then jumped when he said from behind her, "You know, it was nice and quiet here until you showed up."
She turned around and played the flashlight in his face for a second before he took it out of her hand and shut it off. She stepped closer. "You know, you're damn hard to find."
"That was the point. It's easier to be alone if you're damn hard to find."
Lucy stepped still closer and he didn't back up. "Yeah, but you didn't want to be alone," she said, praying that was true, and then she leaned in and kissed him, almost missing his mouth in the dark until he corrected for her and kissed her back, his mouth hard on hers, his hand cupping the back of her head. He tasted right, hot and sweet, and she gave in to the kiss, letting it flood her. And when he pulled back, she was dizzy from him, clutching him as she sucked in air, trying to get her breath back.
"Okay," he said, sounding as breathless as she was. "The way back to the road-"
"You have got to be kidding me," Lucy said, and he said, "Right," and kissed her again and made her blood pound, and then he pulled her away from the Jeep, a little deeper into the woods, as her heart raced.
The light was better in the small clearing they came to but she still stumbled over the foot-high ring that surrounded the clearing.
"What's that?"
"Shell ring."
"Huh?"
"A spiritual place. Very old and sacred."
Sacred, she thought, and wondered if she'd go to hell for thinking what she was thinking in a sacred place. But those old earth goddesses had thought that way, too. She'd seen the carvings. "Works for me," she said, and then she saw that the only thing in the circle was a thin mattress with some kind of camouflage cloth tossed over it. "This is it? Where's your tent, your sleeping bag, your Coleman lantern? Where's the S'mores, for Christ's sake?"
"S'mores?"
Lucy shook her head. Obviously he'd never been a Girl Scout. She'd just have to settle for him being a Green Beret.
On the other hand, she was about to get someone to hold in the forest at night. Us Amazonians, she thought, and started to laugh.
"The way back is over…" he began, and she pulled her shirt off over her head and tossed it to him, flashing her WonderWear at him.
He caught it and shut up.
She hopped on one leg to pull off her boot, thinking, This can't be seductive, and then dropped it and pulled off the other, while he stood there watching her with that unfathomable look on his face. Then she unzipped her jeans and shoved them off. "This would be working on you better if there were more light," she said and tossed them to him.
He caught them with his free hand. "It's working." But he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, green glowing stick, which he hung on a palmetto frond. "Did you bring the rope?"
"Just me," she said and stripped off the red Wonder Woman camisole and tossed it to him, too. "I'm not seeing much enthusiasm," she said as she shoved off the blue-starred bottoms, and he caught those, too, and then she stopped, not ready to take off her underwear and be naked for him, not yet.
He dropped the bundle of her clothes he'd been holding and stepped over it to get to her, catching her arms when she tried to put them around him.
"There," he said, and gently pushed her toward the ground cloth.
"Romantic," she said, and knelt down on it, trying to figure out what the hell it was in the dim light. It was definitely camouflage, but that was pretty much J.'T.'s signature color. He probably had the matching china. When she looked up, he was gone, and she felt a moment of panic again. "J.T.?"
"In a minute," he said from the shadows outside the dim glow of the stick, and from his outline it looked like he was stripping off his shirt. Modest, she thought. Well, okay. At least they were getting someplace.
She went back to exploring the bed situation. Just some kind of pad with the camouflage cloth over it and that was it. You couldn't fall for a millionaire with a Swedish mattress, she told herself as she crawled under the thin cover. You had to want Nature Boy. She heard something rip in the shadows that sounded like Velcro-Velcro?-and then a zipper, and then something snap like spandex, and she thought, I really don't want to know, and tried to settle in on the quarter inch of whatever it was underneath her. "You know-" she said, and then he was beside her, under the cover, and she shut up.
His body was long and hard against her as he pulled her close, his muscles tight from use, and she shivered a little because it was him, for real, not a fantasy, playing her fingers over his chest, smiling in the dark when he sucked in his breath. "You know," she began again, and he kissed her and she forgot what she was about to say as she lost herself in the weight and the heat of him. The simmer in her blood flared as she wrapped herself around him and felt hard muscle press into soft flesh. This is good, she thought, feeling a little dizzy, while he unfastened her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders, as efficient with that as he was with everything else. Good, clean, American outdoor sex. Yep. She pulled away to help him, feeling her breasts fall free, already tight and swollen for him so that when he touched her, she leaned into his hand
s to ease the pressure there, whispering, "Oh "against his neck because he felt so good.
He said something under his breath and kissed her again, his mouth hot, and while she was reeling from that, he dropped his head to her breast, and she shuddered, feeling the touch of his tongue, the tug of his mouth, all the way to her groin. She moaned as he moved up to bite her gently on the neck and slid his hand between her legs, and she arched to meet him without thinking.
God, you feel good, she thought, and then his hand stroked over her again, his fingers sliding carefully under the elastic of her pants, then smoothly inside her, and she lost her breath as she coalesced around him and made him the center of everything. He knew where to touch her, how to touch her, and she melted boneless against him as he drew in his breath and said, "God, Lucy." He kissed her then, and she fell into him, not giving a damn about anything except what he was doing to her and how impossibly good it felt. I should be helping here, she thought as he moved his hand away a few minutes later, but then he slipped her pants down her thighs, kissing and biting his way down the curve of her stomach-Oh, God, yes-and she opened to him, arching her hips to his mouth, shuddering under his tongue, and rocking with him as all the frustration and longing she'd felt for him rose and built and twisted inside her, multiplied a thousand times because it was him, and then she broke, shuddering under his mouth, breathless and shaking and helpless.
J.T., she thought, drowning in him, and then he moved up beside her and she rolled to press against him, but he said, "Wait," a little out of breath himself, and moved away from her.
"J.T.," she said, trying to pull him back, and he said, "Condom," and then a moment later rolled back to her, and she curved into his heat, warm and sated and wanting him closer, much closer, part of her, inside her.
"Thank you," she said into his ear, and he stopped and said, "For what?" calm and cool and suddenly annoying because he wasn't as destroyed as she was.
"The condom," she said, thinking, So not romantic. "The orgasm." She shifted on the pad he thought was a bed, trying to find a place for her hipbone that wasn't on a rock or tree root. " The great accommodations."
He shook his head in the dark. "You come your brains out in a sacred place and still you complain. You're a hard woman to please."
"Hey," Lucy said. "I'm pleased. I just said-" and he kissed her again, pulling her hips into his this time, and she felt him hard against her and shut up, curled herself around him as his fingers tightened on her, and the heat flared again. Stop trying to make this something it isn't, she told herself. Especially since there's a pretty good chance the rest of the sex is going to be just as good as the first part. She rolled onto her back, pulling him with her, wanting to feel his weight on her, and he put his hands on each side of her, balancing over her, larger than she'd thought.
"Touch me," she said and wrapped her legs around him, and he laced one hand through her hair and brought her mouth up to his, kissing her thoroughly as he bore down on her. She moved against him, feeling him hard between her legs, wanting him inside her, but he waited, touching her everywhere, making her breath come faster, deeper, her body liquid, slippery with need, and just when she was ready to scream, Now, damn it, he moved his hand down and stroked her open, sure and insistent, and she felt him move into her.
She drew in her breath at the shock of him sliding hard and thick inside her, and then she opened her eyes and looked at him looming in the dark above her, rocking into her, and was amazed. J.T. Wilder, she thought as her breath came raggedly, inside me. She held on to him, trying to remember that it was just physical, that it didn't matter that this was J.T., hot and real and holding her tight, making her dizzy while he kept her safe. It's just sex, she told herself, and then he moved deeper into her, careful not to hurt her, and she shuddered as he hit something good. He bent down and said, "Shhhh," with so much tenderness that she came undone, all her defenses gone, nothing to keep her safe but him. He felt so right, not just good, but right, nothing to guard against, nothing to fear, it was right that they should be this way together, interlocked, fused, and she relaxed into him, stopped being just a body for him, stopped making him just a body for her, and loved him with everything she had.
She whispered, "J.T.," and he slowed and whispered, "It's all right," and she said, "I know. "She kissed his cheek and then his mouth, gently, again and again, as she began to move against him, with him, taking him in deeper, rocking slowly so she could feel the slide of him inside, giving him all of her because it was him, because it was going to be him from now on, knowing what shed known since she first saw him on the bridge, that this was the beginning.
"'Lucy?" he said, and she slid her hands down his back, learning the territory of him, the way his muscles moved as she touched him, the secret places on him that made him hers, thinking, Here, as he drew in his breath, Here, as he shuddered against her, Here, as he moaned her name, feeling herself glow with the knowledge of him. Mine, she thought and tilted her hips, and he rolled with her, pulling her on top, and then she began to explore in earnest, fingertips and tongue, sliding down his body, feeling him slide out of her as she kissed her way down. He had round scars that she guessed were from bullets, thin scars that might have been knife cuts, muscles that tensed under her fingers, nerves that twitched under her mouth, and the more she learned him, the more she loved him, until she stripped the condom off and touched him with her tongue, heard the sharp intake of his breath in the night, felt his body tighten under her, and took him completely, making him her own.
She felt his hands stroke into her hair, felt him move to her rhythm this time as her fingers bit into his thighs, digging into the muscles there. And when, a few minutes later, he pulled hard on her hair, she moved up his body, breathing heavily in the dark, and sank down over him, taking him into her. He rose up, saying, "Lucy!" and she shoved him down, arching over him. "You're mine," she said, and kissed him deep and slow as she tightened herself around him. "Mine," she whispered against his mouth and began to move, and he slid his hands down her back and said, "Oh, God, Lucy," and surrendered to her, moving with her, pulling her close.
The woods closed in around them, dark and deep, and she thought, This is the safest place I'll ever be, we are the safest place I'll ever be, and lost herself in them, in the pulse they made together. They rocked each other closer, higher, hotter, the pressure building inexorably until she was tight everywhere, the sizzle bubbling beneath her skin, craving his touch, his hands, his mouth. Her breaths became sobs, and he rolled, pinning her beneath him, and the weight of him bearing down on her, pulsing deep inside her, made her clutch at him as he held her tighter. He whispered, "Let go, Lucy," and she gave herself up, felt the kick in her blood and then the surge, and she cried out and let him take her, over and over, shuddering safe beneath him, mindless with lust and love.
When J.T. moved away from her hours later, Lucy roused at the loss of his heat, then came awake completely as he stood. "What?"
"It's almost dawn," he said from the darkness, making rustling sounds as he got dressed.
Lucy yawned and peered into the darkness. "I can't see it." She lay back, still half asleep, and saw the stars overhead, a million pinpricks of light, a million possibilities ahead of her. And all of them with J.T.
She laced her fingers behind her head. "There are an awful lot of stars up there in a very dark sky. I don't think that's dawn."
"It's close," he said, and she decided that anybody who camped with gators probably knew when dawn came better than she did. "We call it BMNT in the Army," he added. "Beginning morning nautical twilight."
Oh, good. Military terms. That was what she wanted to hear. So much better than, Last night was the best of my life, and I'll love you forever. "Nautical. Are we at sea?"
"No. But this is when the bad guys always attack. So we always do stand to."
" 'Stand to'?" Lucy stretched. "Sounds good to me. Can you stand to lying down?"
Wilder laughed and she liked the sound
. "It means get ready for the Indians to come riding in. They always attack just before dawn in the movies, right?"
Guess that's a no. Just her luck, she'd fallen for the one man in the world who wasn't interested in morning sex but who was worried about Indians riding in. Low sex drive and politically incorrect. Probably because he watched too many damn Westerns. Well, they could work on that. She sat up and felt around for her clothes, finding her shirt first and putting that on, then her jeans, wondering how long it would take to convince him that they were soul mates. She'd probably have to bring him back to consciousness after she dropped the forever part on him, so the soul mate thing could be even trickier. More sex, she thought. That might help. It would help me. She stood up, still half asleep, wishing they were in a hotel room someplace so that she could close the curtains and drag him back to bed.
Dragging him back to swamp in the approaching daylight did not appeal as much. For one thing, she really did not want to see where she'd been sleeping. Not that there'd been much sleeping.
But tonight, definitely a bed, she thought. "You ever had room-service breakfast in bed?"
"Nope."
What a surprise. "We'll try that next time," she said, keeping her voice light. "But we have to be in a room first."
"Here." He handed over her bra, and she said, "Thank you," automatically and squinted at the ground to find her underpants. "This afternoon, before the shoot," she told him, when she had her underpants and bra rolled into a ball. "You and me. In a hotel room. Yours, mine, I don't care, but there's going to be a bed."
Don't Look Down Page 23
