Under A Painted Moon

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Under A Painted Moon Page 18

by Rayne Forrest


  She tidied up the table and he offered to take everything down to the kitchen. He started to pick up the carefully stacked pile then stopped. He went to the wall and started tapping.

  "Now what are you doing, Barry?"

  "It just occurred to me that there could be a dumb waiter in this wall. The back stairs are on the other side. The stairs go directly to the kitchen. Aha!” The wall sounded hollow as he tapped it again.

  "Not again,” she moaned behind him. “Tear down another wall of my house later."

  "Okay, okay. I won't do a thing. If it's there, the work in the kitchen will uncover it. How's that?"

  "That's wonderful. Is it too late for coffee?"

  He shook his head. “Go start the shower. We'll both fit in there somehow. I'll be right back up."

  He took the leftovers and the dirty dishes down to the kitchen. He stowed the food in the refrigerator and gave the dishes a quick rinse before loading the coffee pot and gingerly carrying it upstairs. He set it on the floor and plugged it. If they furnished the huge bedroom carefully, they'd only have to leave it for food.

  The small shower was a tight fit for two. They generously soaped each other, taking turns under the spray. He grinned at the matter-of-fact way Courtney outlined her plans for the new bathroom while she amused herself washing him below the waist. She could talk about whatever she wanted as long as she kept her soapy fingers gliding over him like that.

  He leaned back under the spray. The lather sluiced off him. She reached behind him and turned the water off. He started to dry her off, but she threw the towel at him and shoved him out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He shrugged and dried off.

  They definitely needed to get some more furniture in this room if they were going to sleep here, and he knew they were, most nights. This bed was big and comfortable, better for two than either of them had at their respective homes.

  He abandoned his original plan for giving her the rings. He put the little velvet box on the table and sat, deciding he'd just have to wait patiently for her to come out of the bathroom. The sound of the blow dryer reached him. She'd be out any second now. His stomach plunged nervously. He'd never given a ring to anyone before.

  She emerged from the bathroom, naked, her gaze locked with his. She sat across from him. Her eyes widened as she saw the box. She stared at it for a long moment then pushed a white plastic stick at him.

  He frowned and picked it up, examining it and turning it over several times.

  "What am I looking at here?"

  She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. “You've never seen one of those before?"

  "No. What is it?"

  "I'm not pregnant, just slow this month."

  His eyebrows shot up. Darn. He'd almost hoped differently. “I see."

  He leaned forward and held his hand out to her. She laid her hand in his.

  "Do you want to be?"

  She shook her head. “I'm a little old to start a family, don't you think?"

  "It's all in what you want, babe.” He squeezed her hand. “I can do my part."

  She laughed softly. “I'm sure you can.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. Maybe."

  He lifted her hand to his lips. Maybe, indeed. He hoped that would become a ‘yes’ soon. He rather liked the idea of having a child with her. But if she decided against it, he would understand. Her health had to come first.

  "You, um, want to see what's in the box?” He second and third guessed himself, wondering if he'd made the right selection.

  She stared at the box. He'd give a lot to know what she was thinking.

  "If you want to go pick out something else, I won't be too crushed,” he told her.

  She didn't answer, just kept staring at the box. Finally, she reached for it and slowly opened the lid. Her lips trembled. She blinked rapidly several times.

  "They're beautiful,” she whispered.

  He took the box from her and plucked the diamond from the velvet. The ring was a single one-caret round center stone set in white gold with a trillion cut ruby on each side. Her wedding band was set with several smaller rubies. His ring was a simple smooth band. He didn't want to take it off while painting and a smooth band would be easy to keep shiny.

  She held out her left hand and he slipped the diamond on her finger. It fit perfectly.

  "Say when, Courtney. Tomorrow if you want."

  "There are a few details to arrange, you know. But soon.” She smiled up at him. “I'm a little scared of this, you know."

  "I know. Me, too. But I think we'll do fine."

  "I never thought I'd want to marry again.” She looked at the bed, then at him. His pulse faltered then picked up speed.

  "Maybe we should hold off on making love again until we're married."

  "McWaters, where do you get these notions? And by the way, I'm keeping Nichols professionally. I'm not changing it again. It's too confusing."

  "Hey, did I say anything?” He looked at the bed then cocked his head in its direction. She grinned at him.

  "Maybe you're right. Maybe we shouldn't make love until after the wedding."

  Barry plunked down his coffee and rolled to his feet in a single, smooth motion. He scooped her up, lifting her from her chair and dropping her on the bed. She rolled away from him.

  "Let's discuss the possibility.” She was giggling again.

  "Let's.” He followed her across the mattress, straddling her. She reached for him, giving his manhood a bold stroke.

  "How's that for a start?” She arched up to him as he cupped her breasts.

  "That's good.” He stretched out beside her and gathered her into his arms. He slipped his hand inside his pillowcase checking for condoms.

  "Don't bother with that,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

  His erection completed. His groin tightened. He forgot to breathe as he reached for any bit of sanity he could find. If she did decide to try and conceive, this strange new side to arousal that called to him to spill his seed on fertile ground could consume him. He found her mouth, claiming her lips with a searing kiss.

  She opened to him, rising up to him with primitive submission. And yet it was not only her submission. It was his as well.

  This is what had been missing with every woman he'd ever known. This open giving that was not loss, but gain. To submit to her needs was to meet his own in a way he'd never known before. To love genuinely, and to have love given back equally.

  Her hands were on him, urging him to hurry. Her body was restless beneath him as he kissed his way from her breasts to her thighs. He grasped her hips, turning her then pulling her to her knees. She pushed back against him. He kept a firm grip on her hips, shifted slightly and slowly eased into her heat. She rippled around his shaft, a welcome that nearly finished him.

  He pulled back, sliding almost from her before sinking into her again. Her welcome was a deep moan that vibrated through her, hazing his awareness to all but her. He covered her body with his own, kissing her neck and burying his fingers in the damp, silky hair of her mound.

  She carried him to a pounding rhythm. Her knees slid further apart and he slipped deeper into her. The blood surging through his veins deafened him. He was going to come. He couldn't stop it.

  She was coming, too. Her body answered his with powerful pulses, gripping and releasing him until he was spent within her. She shivered, gooseflesh rippling over her skin. He urged her to go down, following her to the mattress without withdrawing from her. He rolled them to their sides, still safely tucked inside her heat.

  "Damn, Barry,” she moaned. Her toes curled along the tops of his feet. She moaned again, a long breathy sigh of contentment.

  He kissed her shoulder. He was going to wring a lifetime of that sound from her, night-by-night and day-by-day.

  "Still want to wait for the wedding?” he teased softly.

  "I don't even want to wait until morning, but I'm limp."

  He chuckled softly in her ear. He was
rather limp, too. Now.

  She settled closer, wiggled her bottom even firmer against him. She relaxed in his embrace, yawning, and edging toward sleep. He would hold her and keep her safe tonight, and through all the nights, sheltering her with his body and his heart.

  "I love you, Barry.” Her voice was soft and dreamy. He listened to her breathing deepen and slow. A sudden breeze rustled the leaves in the big tree outside the window. Cooler air drifted into the room. He pulled the sheet over them.

  On their wedding night, he would take her out to the spot where he'd painted her a desert moon. Out to the spot where he'd given them a moment frozen in time. In his mind, he'd made love to her there for so many years. They would make the dream captured on the canvas become real.

  "I love you, too, Courtney."

  He closed his eyes and followed her into sleep.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Rayne Forrest has worked for a picture frame manufacturer, a plumbing company, a general contractor and as an Administrative Assistant for various non-profit organizations. She began writing fiction in 2003. Prior to that, she'd designed and written newsletters, booklets and informational pamphlets for those organizations.

  She lives with her partner of eleven years in scenic western Maryland, where she was born and raised. She has one very spoiled black Lab and two cats that belong to the dog. All male.

  Her many novels, ranging from the futuristic settings of Across Time, The Skies of Mahdis, and The Rea Cheveyo Chronicles, to the romantic suspense of Mountain High, to ghosts in Skipping Heaven, have earned stellar reviews from the toughest critics in the industry—her readers.

  She has several more titles coming out in the next twelve months including When the Night Comes, and Stepping Through.

  When not at her computer, she enjoys working in her garden, crafting, bowling, and reading romance and science fiction. Rayne enjoys classic rock, piano, and Celtic music. She is a member of EPIC (Electronically Published Internet Connection), and the Romance Writers of America.

  If you like to learn more about Rayne, her novels, and subscribe to her monthly newsletter, please visit her website at www.rayneforrest.com . She blogs about her country lifestyle, her novels and her favorite subject, her dog, at www.livejournal.com/users/rayneforrest.

  For your reading pleasure, we welcome you to visit our web bookstore

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