“Anything specific you want to find in that doggie bag?”
“Red meat and potatoes. I need fighting food,” she bantered back.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Walking back to her home, Lisa wondered how she would get through supper without spilling her knowledge to Jeff and Clay. Taking Adam from Jeff, she fed him then rocked him to sleep. While freshening her makeup, Lisa skirted Jeff’s questions, finally telling him to ask her again when they got home. Then she would tell him.
Jeff and Lisa arrived home to find Dana and Adam on the front porch swing, surprised Adam wasn’t with his sitter. Dana explained she had gotten an emergency call, an accident with one of her brothers who had broken a limb. She was needed at home to care for the rest of her siblings while her parents took care of the broken-boned child.
“You should have called us. We would have come home.”
“No problem. Adam and I have been having a long talk, He’s turning into a great listener.”
Jeff finally lost his control. Watching his wife and sister debate about sitters after the episode this afternoon in the paddock, he’d had enough. He ran his hand through his dark hair, and his breath started coming out in small pants. All through supper he had resisted asking questions. In the car from the restaurant, Lisa had turned up the radio, loud, to avoid his questions. Having them both in the same place now, he wanted answers.
In the dark of the evening, his sister looked like a child herself, holding his child. Whatever had set Dana off, he needed to know. In the small county they lived in, sooner or later it would get around that Dana had a tantrum. He needed to know why, if only for damage control. He wanted to know for himself, so he could help her. Just because she was grown up, he couldn’t back away from his role as protector. The day his father died, he’d promised him he’d always take care of Dana. Jeff knew he would continue to do so until the day he died. Seeing his son in her arms only reinforced his protective side. “Is someone going to finally tell me what’s going on under my own roof? You tore in here today, stripped in the paddock, and then rode William to the point of exhaustion. I’ve waited through supper and didn’t press the issue. Now I want answers.”
“You sound just like Daddy used to. All you need is his cane thumping next to you and you’re his spitting image.”
“Thank you very much, Dana. However, you created this mood, now dispel it.”
“I think Adam and I will retire for the night.” Lisa took the sleeping child from Dana, pausing to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for taking over tonight.”
“No problem.”
“Don’t forget to eat your supper. I even remembered the fried potatoes,” she added as she slowly wandered inside. Jeff sat beside his sister on the porch swing, waiting her out. She held the white Styrofoam container on her lap.
“Come on to the kitchen. I know you wouldn’t touch that without ketchup.” Standing, Dana accepted his hand, following him to the kitchen. He waited while she puddled ketchup on the potatoes and grabbed a bottle of water. Finally they settled at the kitchen counter, where he none-too-patiently waited for her start talking. In between bites, she told her brother the condensed version.
Lisa was waiting for Jeff when he finally came upstairs. She knew he would be upset; she just wasn’t sure how upset. One look at his face told her it was going to be a long night.
“I’ll call the lawyers in the morning. That woman has no right to use Clay as a bargaining tool for Dana’s project. How dare she even think he would want a woman like her, she’s…”
“Yes, dear.” Lisa said, “I know the list, and it’s a long one. Did Dana ask you to call in the lawyers?”
“No, but—”
“Jeff, no matter how hard this is for you, we have to back down and let Dana handle it her own way.”
“But—”
“No buts, Jeff. It’s important she fight for herself. You can’t fix everything for her for the rest of her life. Now that she’s finally come home, we have to let her be an adult. She’ll leave if you meddle.”
“She wouldn’t!”
“You don’t know your sister then. This is her project. It’s her business. How would you feel if she stopped by your office and cancelled a fertilizer or seed shipment, or told the loggers to clear a different field?”
“That’s not the same.”
“It’s as close as I can get at ten thirty at night. Jeff, she’s twenty-six. She’s come home to build a life. We have to let her build it. Refurbishing the Britton Mansion in town gives her a goal, a valid reason to be here. If you take it over from her, there is no reason to stay. Jeff, please think about it before you do anything stupid that sends her running.”
“Stupid, did you just call me stupid?” His dark eyes narrowed.
“Jeff, I said don’t do anything stupid. Dana’s a smart lady.”
“Girl!”
“Woman. You missed a few things lately.” His silence didn’t bother her. Lisa was used to her husband receding into his thoughts. Jeff’s processing time was different from hers. She had learned to wait him out, letting him think things through before tossing more.
“Why would Linda think Dana had so much control over Clay?” Lisa shook her head at her husband, knowing when it hit him she didn’t want to be anywhere near until he calmed down.
“Let her have this. She needs to fight for herself. If she wants help, she’ll come to you.” Lisa ran her hands through her husband’s dark hair. “Then you can ride in and save the day for her. Until then, I’ll try to keep you occupied.”
“Occupied how?” Taking his hand, she pulled him closer, using his fingers to push the strap of her nightgown from her shoulder.
“Until then, I’ll just have to keep you busy.” Her kiss was hot and tempting. Jeff let her lead him to their bed, allowing her to straddle him once he had sat. “Now,” she whispered, “How can I keep you busy for the next few weeks?”
“Is Adam asleep?” His hands found the soft spot of her neck, stroking it gently while he waited for her answer.
“Fed, changed, and sound asleep. With a little luck, we should have about three hours before he makes his needs known.” Dipping her head, she caught his earlobe between her teeth.
“Mrs. Britton, what could you possibly think of to fill those three hours?” he whispered. Her kiss was his answer. Slowly he rolled her onto her back, pausing to pull his shirt over his head, before lying beside her. “Three hours?”
“Think you can handle it?” Lisa dropped her hand between their bodies and found his cock full, throbbing in her hand. His lips met hers, and Dana’s problems dissolved around them. From the way Jeff was fingering her pussy and sucking her nipple, keeping him sidetracked wouldn’t be a problem.
Chapter Nine
Clay paced the length of his small living room. Looking around him, he saw remnants of his younger days. This was his father’s house. Stepfather, he reminded himself. Even today, with both men long buried, guilt still welled within him on those rare times he forgot the man who had been his biological father. He had memories of him, glimpses that he could remember. His stepfather had raised him, taught him what it meant to be a man, and made his mother happy. Everything he was today, he owed to old Holly. Today Clay stood proudly as a Hollister, not a Taylor. Guilt always arrived when he let himself thank the gods that his mother had found old Holly.
He was a man’s man, a logger and farmer, a horseman with common sense and a good heart. He had welcomed Clay at that tender age of eight. Even when Clay tested him, he stood fast. “Holly, I wish you were here, I could use some advice,” he said aloud, looking at the ceiling, willing the old man to hear his plea.
Wandering from room to room, he knew it needed a fresh coat of paint, maybe some new wallpaper in the kitchen. It hadn’t occurred to him to make these changes until now. This was the home he grew up in, the home Holly had made for him and his mother. The paper in the kitchen was old but familiar and comforting. It was like that thro
ughout the rest of the house.
Besides, there was no reason to make any changes. Clay was waiting to live in the river house. His problem, he knew, was the waiting. Maybe he should just complete the house to his liking and hope for the best. Waiting was never one of his strong suits. These past two years since he had taken title to the abandoned, half-finished home, his mind kept telling him to wait for Dana. “Dana.” Grabbing his jacket from the hook in the hallway, Clay left the house with no real destination in mind. Fresh air and a walk will clear my head. Anything to get her off his mind. “Why would her ex-boyfriend Walker have hurt her? What could she have possibly done? Was he the one who introduced her to the sex toys? If she hated him using them on her then she wouldn’t have kept them.” He spoke to himself on the way to the garage, trying to figure out what had happened.
Wandering the road in front of his home, Clay turned to see it from the distance. It would make a fine guesthouse for a while. Eventually, he had hoped it would turn into the caretaker’s home, if he could find someone who thought the way he did. There was no hurry now. Planting was done for the season, all any farmer could do now was wait out the storms, hope for rain and sun and the strength to do it again next year. Still restless, he headed inside and changed clothes, heading to the garage. He mounted his Harley but didn’t have a destination in mind. He just wanted the freedom of the ride.
Turning the Harley off the main road, Clay was shocked to see a vehicle parked in front of his unfinished house. “What the hell?” he muttered, maneuvering the bike closer, until he realized it was a blue BMW. “Dana?” he said aloud, knowing she couldn’t have heard him through the helmet.
Taking the time to put it away, along with his gloves, he used that same time to quiet his wildly beating heart. Why was he surprised? Hadn’t he come here hoping she might be there, that some intuition would have her waiting there for him? Didn’t he buy the property because he knew Dana had loved the home that was being built there?
Dana heard the roar of the bike coming up the private road. At first, she thought it was a car, and then realized she knew the sound. Clay, why is he here? No one really knew where she was. She had just said she was stopping in town for a while, she’d be home later. Never did she ever mention this house to anyone…except Clay. But that was three years ago.
Remembering the last time he surprised her at the same location, she felt a chill run down her spine. That was the night she had looked at Clay Hollister with a different eye. He had been in his riding leathers that night, his long legs encased in the soft, black coating. His hands she had noticed too. The size of them, the width and length of his fingers, the way her skin felt when he hugged her, surprised to have found her at the building site. Now they were both here again. She knew why she was there, not why he would come here.
Shaking off the memory, Dana knew it was too late to slip away. Instead, she called out. “Clay? Is that you?” She rounded the corner of the unclad building, its white protective wrap shredded from the winds.
“Dana? What are you doing here?”
She caught her first glimpse of him as he turned to rest his gloves and helmet on the back of the bike. “Damn,” she said aloud. Why did he have to wear the leathers was going through her mind. He left his dark glasses on, blocking out the last rays of daylight. “This is a surprise,” she told him.
“More than you could know,” he answered. “What are you doing here?” He watched as she rubbed her upper arms with her hands, looking up toward the house.
“I’m glad someone finally covered over the openings. It was a shame to let the weather get inside the way it did.” Staring at the front of the house, its window and door openings had been covered with plywood and plastic, she couldn’t look to Clay, not yet. She hadn’t seen him in a few days, since she’d had her meeting with Linda and the hissy fit in the paddock. Instantly she remembered how he kissed her and made her want to confess her newfound needs to him. Then Linda Cole had interrupted their breakfast. She still wasn’t ready to be honest with him yet.
“I stopped by your house. I thought you might want to go for a ride. Jeff told me you had headed into town to shop.”
“What made you come here?”
“Somehow it didn’t seem right, you shopping on a Tuesday evening.” He took her in his arms as soon as he was within reach of her, pulling her to his chest, never hesitating before lowering his mouth to hers. It was getting hard for her push him away, to stay aloof. She didn’t pull away this time, and he didn’t either. Dana wanted him to kiss her, needed to know if he could make her feel again, questioning if she had ever really felt the sensual emotions Clay brought forward in her being. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer to her; the only incentive he needed to continue his exploration, his hands roaming her back, pausing to grasp her butt and pull her tighter to his erection.
His lips broke contact with hers for only seconds while he gulped for air, and then he went back for more until Dana’s breath caught in her throat, only a low moan escaping. Releasing his hold, he hugged her to his chest, as if he were reluctant to let go. She decided he was probably afraid she wouldn’t accept his touch again.
She would have stumbled if he had let go of her. Instead he held her close, his heartbeat directly beneath her cheek. This was what she had been searching for, this was home, and Clay Hollister’s arms were her only salvation. Surprise was next when he swung her up onto his shoulder, walking toward the water’s edge with her.
“Clay, put me down!”
“Nope, not until you’re where I want you.” His long strides moved quickly through the tall grass to the river’s edge where he finally set her on her feet. “Now, we have two approaches I can come up with. One, we sit and talk like adults until we can get straightened out about a few things, or two.” His lips curled into a wicked smile. “Two, I can torture you until you come around to my way of thinking. What’s it going to be, Dana? Make a choice before I choose for you.”
Slowly, she lowered herself onto the bank of the river, waiting for him to join her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She couldn’t look at him after kissing him the way she had. What must he think? At times she responded without thought or question and other times her mind sent her into protection mode and pushed him away. “Do you know who bought the house? It’s the first time I’ve been here since I got home.”
“Yeah, I do. Later.”
“I’m glad they at least dried her in, she deserves better treatment.”
“Now we’re using building terms,” he told her with a smile.
“I’ve been doing my homework. I am going to rehab the Britton Mansion, remember?” she teased back. Clay drew her back to the subject he wanted to discuss.
“Dana?”
“The thing is, Clay, I have two very different…situations happening around me and to me right now.”
“Pick one and start.”
“Some minor problems with getting the project started,” she lied. “And second?”
“You, Clay Hollister. You’re the second.”
“Okay, let’s deal with that. Why am I a problem, exactly?” He watched as she bought time pulling tufts of grass from the area around where she sat, feeling the texture of it in her hands. “I missed this in New York. Did you know in some stores, they sell planters with patches of lawn growing in them instead of flowers? For people like me, something to feel and see…I see you don’t care.”
“I know all about it.” Her eyes flashed to his. She remembered the night of the storm when she had taken refuge in his home. “Talk to me later about houseplants, and I’ll be thrilled to listen. Now, tell me what’s wrong between us.”
“I can’t. It’s just a feeling that I’m not capable of maintaining a long-term, conventional relationship.”
She was on her back with Clay lying on top of her. Automatically her hands went to his sides and back, feeling the strength and size of him. She let him kiss her, encou
raged him to. For a long time, she let him make love to her body. The feel of his hands on her skin as he pushed her shirt aside, his lips trailing down her throat, pausing to paint spirals on her warm flesh. She hadn’t thought to wear a bra, so he didn’t have to fight one to touch her.
Her breast filled his hand. “So firm, so perfect,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to one of her buds. His fingers stroked the other to a peak, waiting for his lips. Dana arched her back, giving him access, driving him toward a breaking point. His mouth switched to her other breast. Back and forth, side to side, all she could do was hold on to his shoulders, willing him to continue. Never had she felt this way before.
The sun faded behind the trees while Clay explored her breasts with his hands. Dana was lost, his mouth taking away all her restraint at his lips’ first touch. Only when his hand trailed down the flat plane of her stomach did she freeze. There was no mistaking it, like a switch was turned off in her head. Rolling away from her, he threw his arm over his eyes, not wanting to be seen.
“God, Dana. I’m sorry. I had no right.”
“No, Clay, it’s my fault. I should have stopped you. I’m sorry.”
For a minute, he lay there in silence. She attempted to gather her senses, trying to figure out what to do. Dana knew what she wanted and decided to make it happen.
“I shouldn’t have tried to push you.”
Then her hand came over to his crotch. His hardness throbbed at her touch through his leathers. Air escaped from her lungs as she closed her hand around Clay. The size of him intrigued and delighted her.
“Dana, don’t.”
“It’s all right, Clay. I started something. I’d like to finish it.” He moved his hand away from his eyes, not sure if he heard her right. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the zipper on his pants until he all but slapped her hand away. “Clay, let me. Or was I so inept the last time I did this you don’t want to have to experience it again?”
Payne, Lillith - His Unconventional Woman (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 11
