Reconsidering Riley

by Lisa Plumley

  She’d earned it, hadn’t she? And if she happened to wish for more, for a future together? Well, she wouldn’t, and that was that. She’d reformed, Jayne assured herself. No matter how her feelings urged her to give herself to Riley, her body understood this was only one night. Tomorrow didn’t exist for them.

  Satisfied with that for now, Jayne arched beneath Riley’s crouched body and tugged him to her for a kiss. She lost herself in the meeting of their mouths, in the heat of their bodies coming together. Her skin burned. Pleasure wended its way through her middle, leaving her limbs heavy and her thoughts muddled. Riley kissed like a man who’d decided to claim his woman, and for this one glorious night, Jayne luxuriated in being that woman. In his arms, she felt safe and warm and wanted. For now, nothing else was necessary.

  His breathing quickening, Riley rolled them over so that Jayne straddled him. His gaze touched her face, lowered to her breasts, lingered. His hands followed suit.

  Closing her eyes, she threw back her head and moaned as he cupped her, stroked her, lightly teased her. He thumbed her rigid nipples and she shivered…he levered upward with her in his lap to kiss her breasts and she cried out loud with pleasure. This, this was what she needed. Riley’s hands on her body, his lips on her skin…his husky murmurs of enjoyment in her ears.

  His arms cradled her waist, keeping her upright. That hottest, hardest part of him nudged between her thighs, and her slick heat welcomed him. He felt huge and ready and gratifyingly aroused, and it was all Jayne could do not to nudge herself the slightest fraction to the right and…

  “Whoa,” Riley breathed. “Not yet. There’s more of you still needing attention.”

  She protested as he turned them yet again, this time so that Jayne lay on her belly against the soft comforter. With tender kisses and whispered promises, Riley made sure she would agree with the leisurely pace he apparently meant to set. He kissed from the back of her neck downward, tickled the undersides of her knees, and emerged from a foray to the back of her thigh with a rose petal clenched between his teeth.

  “Not as soft as your skin,” he announced as he plucked it out. He let the flower remnant drift to the floor. “Not as tasty, either.”

  “How can you be sure?” She turned over, reaching for him. “You haven’t tasted all of me yet.”

  “Easily remedied.”

  With that hoarsely voiced promise, Riley eased down the bed. He smiled wickedly, and parted her thighs. Moments later, Jayne found herself desperately holding his head as he delivered a very intimate kiss. Her whole focus narrowed to the thick strands of hair in her fingers, the delicate rasp of his tongue, the heat of his breath against her most sensitive places. With an expertise both reverent and wonderfully wild, Riley loved her with his mouth and hands and murmured encouragement until Jayne couldn’t stand any more. She came unraveled, clutching the comforter for support, trembling and moaning and begging. Her orgasm swept powerfully over her, and when she finally dared to open her eyes again, it was to see Riley…grinning.

  She arched a brow. Truthfully, it was the largest part of her still capable of movement. “You look proud of yourself.”

  “And you look amazing.” He crawled up her body, pulled her into his arms. “I love making love to you.”

  “Spoken like a man who thinks he’s finished.”

  “Not by a long shot. I’m keeping you here all night.”

  “Then I’d say it’s my turn.”

  Rediscovering her energy, Jayne rose and pushed on his chest. He fell backward willingly, bringing her with him for a kiss. She let her hands rove lower, let her fingers rediscover the tautness of his middle…the silken steeliness of his penis. She stroked him with her palm, feeling a rush of feminine power at her ability to arouse him. Riley moaned and lifted his hips at her touch, his eyes bright as he watched her.

  “I…like…your…turn,” he said.

  “You’ll like this even more,” she promised, and gave him an intimate kiss of her own. She trailed her lips down the length of him and back again, offering a tongue-swirling embellishment at the end. “You taste like Mister Bubble. And roses.”

  “You talk like a woman who isn’t driving me wild. Please, Jayne. Please, don’t stop.”

  She didn’t. Instead, she loved him as thoroughly and as well as she could—and if affectionate enthusiasm counted for anything at all, Jayne decided, then she was definitely the best he’d ever had. Her theory was proved when he groaned and urged her upward again.

  “Please, you have to stop,” Riley said.

  She paused. Licked. Paused again. “Gee, make up your mind.”

  Her suggestion seemed to stump him. “Mind? I still have a mind?” He rumbled with wholly masculine pleasure as she circled him with kisses. “I think it’s broken.”

  “It’s otherwise occupied.”

  Thoroughly enjoying herself, Jayne did her best to torment him. She knew he intended to make love to her, and she wanted that, too. But for now…

  “Hey!”

  Riley grabbed her and spun. He panted, possibly from the exertion of having executed yet another Kama-Sutra-style move. Jayne found herself sprawled beneath his big, strong body…and fascinated by his big, wide smile.

  “My turn,” he said.

  She pretended to acquiesce, and fluttered a hand. “Oh, all right. Have your wicked way with me.”

  “I intend to.”

  He did. Long moments swept past, during which Riley did love her, meticulously and well. He touched her with a care that warmed her heart, and when she looked at him, she saw something unexpectedly serious in his expression. Although he purposefully kept their lovemaking playful, Jayne glimpsed something new in his eyes. As he touched her, the poignancy in his face stirred her in ways she’d never experienced.

  This went beyond a casual encounter, Jayne realized all at once. And she couldn’t deny it any longer.

  She couldn’t deny it as Riley held her hips in his hands, gazing at her with wonderment. She couldn’t deny it as he entered her, and the pleasure of being reunited with him soared through her. She couldn’t, couldn’t deny it as he began a tender dance of slide and retreat, thrust and kiss, shudder and moan. She loved him…both seriously and endlessly. She always had, and there was no doubt now that she always would.

  Losing herself to their joining, Jayne held Riley to her. She loved him, loved him…but he only made love to her. He did it remarkably, it was true, but now she wanted more. More of him. More of them. More of the things she could never have.

  She couldn’t date like a man. She couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried. She could only love like a woman—something she wished she’d realized before now.

  A tear squeezed from the corner of her eye and streaked a trail across her temple. As it soaked into her pillow, Riley lifted his hand to her face. Jayne opened her eyes to find him watching her, his expression indescribably gentle.

  “It’s always been you, Jayne,” he said. “Always.”

  “Oh, Riley.” More tears threatened, but she managed to hold them back. Instead of weeping over what they couldn’t share, she wanted to revel in what they could. She rocked her hips closer. She wrapped both arms around him, her hands cupping the taut muscles of his backside to urge him onward. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “Never.”

  He didn’t stop. He didn’t look away, either. Riley kept his gaze locked with hers as their bodies came together, and the intimacy of it all stole Jayne’s breath. They were so good together, so perfect…even their heartbeats took on a unique synchronicity as they both raced toward a climax. She panted and arched upward; he moaned and drove onward. Closer, closer Jayne came—and when she did, Riley was right there with her. He savored the long, blissful moments when her body hugged him nearer, then stilled as pleasure roared through him, too. Shouting hoarsely, he united them for a final time.

  Sinking back into the comforter and pillows, Jayne flung her arms outward. Her heart thundered. Her breathing panted. Her ea
rs even rang. Despite her melancholy mood only moments earlier, she couldn’t help but grin.

  Riley slumped for an instant, with an enormous “ahhh” of pleasure that only made her grin wider. Then he rolled to the side with her in his arms.

  “I think my kneecaps are numb,” he said, smiling.

  I think my heart is lost. To you. No, she couldn’t say that.

  “I think my teeth were vibrating,” Jayne told him.

  “Mine, too!”

  “My toes did a rumba,” she elaborated.

  Riley glanced downward. “Mine cha-cha-ed.”

  “I’ve never felt better.”

  He cuddled her closer, and kissed the tip of her nose. “Didn’t you know? This is what love feels like.”

  She knew now. For a nanosecond, she regretted it.

  Catching her, Riley gave her a puzzled look. Then he lowered his gaze to her lips, and kissed her again. “If you look that puzzled, you obviously need a remedial course.” His hands slipped past her waist. “Allow me…”

  “Again?”

  “Again.”

  “Now?”

  “I’ve waited a long time for you,” he explained as he languorously slid against her. He cupped her breast, his fingers caressing the delicate skin at her side. “I can’t think of a better time.”

  A few minutes later, neither could Jayne. In fact, it was a very long time before she thought of much of anything at all…except Riley, loving her.

  Just for tonight.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sometime past midnight, Riley realized things had changed between him and Jayne. They’d changed, and for the better, too.

  It had happened so sneakily, amid lovemaking and bed-jumping and snack smuggling. He hadn’t realized it until just this minute. But now, with the luxury of time—and an armful of warm, wonderful woman—he considered the ways things were different…and how those differences had come about.

  More than likely, they’d started when he’d seen Jayne again all those days ago, and his body had gotten freeze-framed in his Suburban. Probably, they’d continued when he’d found himself tutoring her girly-girl self in outdoors survival—and had picked up speed when he’d begun hoping she’d love that same outdoors as much as he did. Definitely, they’d taken hold completely when he’d watched Jayne welcome him into her bathtub…and now, there was no escape.

  Not that Riley wanted an escape. Making love with Jayne, he’d realized how much he’d missed her. They were perfect together. And now that Jayne was better equipped to handle a casual relationship, there was no reason they couldn’t be together. He didn’t need that long goodbye he’d planned, Riley told himself. He didn’t need to say goodbye to Jayne at all. He could say hello instead…whenever he was in town.

  There’d be no more avoiding Bay Area photojournalism assignments. No more turning away from any mention of San Francisco. From here on out, he’d purposefully visit the city by the bay, because that was where Jayne would be, waiting for him.

  For an instant he frowned, thinking of the times when she wouldn’t be waiting for him. After all, he couldn’t expect her to put her whole life on hold, just for his occasional vagabond visits. There would be other men. But he could handle that. He could—

  “Hey!” Jayne said. “You’re squeezing the life out of that pillow!”

  He blinked and saw that he had the fluffy goose down in a fisted stranglehold. Okay, so maybe he couldn’t handle the thought of Jayne with another man as maturely as he thought he could. He’d work on it. The future looked too bright not to.

  Riley smiled at her and released the pillow. He made a dismissive gesture. “I was just thinking.”

  “About…?”

  About making our future permanently temporary. On the verge of suggesting the arrangement he had in mind, he reconsidered. “About intimidating that pillow into multiplying. We need more. We’ve squashed all ours into pancakes.”

  Jayne gave him a sassy look. “Oh, but the way we squashed them. What fun.”

  “I’ll say.” He smoothed her hair. Kissed the top of her head. Gazed thoughtfully at their nude bodies, entwined together amidst the tangled sheets. How should he broach the topic? “In fact—”

  In fact, let’s get together for some more of that fun, whenever I’m within a hundred miles of you. What do you say?

  No, he couldn’t say that. He needed something more suave. More persuasive. Riley didn’t think he could take it if she turned him down. Not now that they’d rediscovered each other again. Not now that Jayne had learned to accept the impermanence that was as much a part of him as his Timberlands, tackle boxes, and photography lenses.

  Curled up coquettishly beside him, Jayne ran her hand over his chest. She slipped it over his abdomen. “‘In fact,’ what?”

  “In fact, I can’t believe you have the energy for that,” he sidestepped, deciding to save the discussion for later…later, when she wasn’t touching him so stirringly. “Wow.”

  “Well, you did feed me Twinkies and coffee.” She winked. “Blame it on the sugar and caffeine.”

  “It was all I could grab from the kitchen. You made me promise not to be seen.”

  Remembering his disgruntlement at her request, Riley scowled. What the hell was up with that?

  “And I appreciate it, too,” she purred. “Thank you.”

  Her hand moved. A few seconds later, his latest hard-on tented the sheet. He forgot all about being annoyed, and began thinking about being Super Endurance Man…for her.

  She drew away the sheet, uncovering him. “Hmmm. Looks like you’re ready for your reward.”

  Riley nodded, pleasure uncoiling beneath her continued touch. Jayne could arouse him with a look, a whisper, a breath. As near as he could tell, that was just more proof they were meant to be together…or at least as together as a man like him could manage.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Jayne said suddenly, peering at his midsection. “What’s this mean?”

  Her fingers had found his tattoo. Imprinted just above and to the right of his pelvis, it formed an ancient black ink symbol in a place where only he would see it.

  “It’s a tribal language. I had it done about two years ago.”

  Her gaze lifted to his. Two years ago, he saw reflected there. After we broke up. But the recriminations he might have expected weren’t there. Jayne only nodded and stroked his tattoo, once. “It’s sexy.”

  He owed her the truth. The truth he’d told no one else.

  “It means ‘to remember,’” Riley said. “But I never needed it. Not the way I thought I might.”

  She scrunched her nose, looking perplexed.

  “I always remembered,” he added. “I always wanted.”

  “Wanted?”

  “You. I always wanted you. Remembered you.”

  At his revelation, something passed over her face, something curious and intent and almost hopeful. But then a certain stubbornness took hold, and Jayne caressed him again.

  “Well, tonight you’ve got me,” she said lightly. “So we’d better make the most of it.”

  “Anything you say.” He smiled and waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “I live to please.”

  And then, not long afterward, he did.

  Jayne awakened in the morning with a smile in her heart and a pounding in her head. Wincing at the sensation, she put her hand to her brow. Maybe she had post-incredi-sex disorder. Or a Twinkie hangover. It had been days since she’d noshed with such abandon, after all. And even longer since she’d loved with such abandon. Ahhh.

  Rolling over in bed to snuggle closer to Riley, Jayne gave him a one-armed hug. He reciprocated sleepily. Even conked out he remembered to be affectionate. Could he be any more wonderful?

  His lovemaking last night—and the intimate talks they’d shared over junk food and sugared java in between—had surpassed everything she’d remembered. And that was saying a lot. She and Riley had reconnected in every way. They’d rebuilt a trust that was rock solid. Now t
heir relationship felt more real and more remarkable than ever before.

  Riley must have felt it too, Jayne told herself. He must have felt things shift, must have felt their lives fall into sync. This time, this time, she dared to believe, things might actually work between them. This time they’d find a way to be together. No matter what.

  Her usual optimism returned. Here, in Riley’s sunshine-y bedroom at the lodge, Jayne felt cozy and hopeful. Here, as her body shared heat with his and their toes mingled beneath the sheets, she felt right. Happily, she gazed at Riley’s sleeping profile, delighting in the rugged slope of his nose, the rowdy angle of his jaw, the sensual slant of his mouth. He really was a gorgeous man. Not even another Clooney-Vision Film Fest could have put him to shame.

  Smiling, she pushed aside the bedding. His shoulders came further into view, along with his chest and arms—one of which cradled her close. She trailed her fingertips along the center of his torso, then swept them lower to his exotic tattoo.

  I always remembered. I always wanted you.

  His revelation had stunned her. Pleased her. Most of all, it had encouraged her. Despite his leaving, he must have fallen for her every bit as hard as Jayne had fallen for him. Why else would Riley want to tattoo a permanent reminder of her on his skin? For a guy who claimed to avoid all commitments, that was a pretty telling gesture.

  It could only mean one thing.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered, gazing into his sleeping face. “I always have.”

  He shifted. Had he heard her? Breath held, she waited for him to open his eyes. She hadn’t meant to wake him, but if she had…maybe Riley would finally say he loved her, too. Maybe he would say he’d decided to stay.

  He slept on. Disappointment nudged at her. Oh, but she’d fallen hard this time, Jayne knew in that moment. Harder than ever before, for Riley. But really, they were both adults. Both willing. Both free to be together. So what was the harm in that?

  A sudden knock at the door made her remember what the harm was in that.