Carol frowned. “I don’t know. Want me to call her?”
“No.” Jesse grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and rounded the desk. “I’ll just run over and tell her in person. I’ve got some other things I need to see her about.”
Grabbing his black Stetson off the hat rack, he let Carol precede him out of his office. The prospect of seeing Sarah had him instantly hard. He locked the door and left the police station. Her office was across the street, in the historic, two-hundred-fifty-year-old Marshall County Courthouse. The heels of his cowboy boots clicked on the shiny marble floor of the bustling lobby, as he crossed to the door with the words County Attorney stenciled on it in large, ornate, black-and-gold letters. The name Sarah Marshall, Esq. was stenciled beneath it. A jangling bell above the door announced his arrival.
Heather Johnson, the receptionist, turned from her filing and gave him a wide grin, her jaws working a wad of gum that snapped and cracked as she chewed. “Hey, Jesse, how’s it hangin’?”
Like a club, was his first, wildly inappropriate reply which, thank God, remained unspoken. Hunching his shoulders, he thrust his hands into his pants pockets, tugging at his jeans to ease their grip on his rock-hard erection. “Uh-h-h, just fine, Heather. Sarah in?”
“Naw, she went home. She’s meetin’ Lynn up there.”
Shock drained the blood from Jesse’s brain. “Lynn?” he asked stupidly. “Reynolds? The real estate broker?”
“Only Lynn I know,” Heather replied, cracking her gum continuously and taking her seat at the reception desk. “She’s puttin’ the mansion up for sale.”
A sudden feeling of impending disaster gnawed at Jesse’s gut. The only other time he’d ever felt it this bad was on that goat-fuck of a mission in Afghanistan. “She’s sellin’ Marshall’s Hill?” He could barely contain the fear that slithered coldly up his spine, making him shiver in the warmth of the room. “What for?” he demanded, more sharply than he intended. “I mean, it’s been in her family for nearly three hundred years.”
Okay, okay, calm down. Just…calm down. There has to be a reasonable explanation for this. He drew in a deep, steadying breath.
“Yeah, go figure,” Heather said brightly, completely oblivious to Jesse’s distress. “She’s not gonna be livin’ there anymore. Says she’s movin’ to Boston!”
“Boston!” Jesse could barely shove the word through lips that suddenly felt stiff and frozen. His deep baritone sounded more like a falsetto.
“Yeah, imagine that. Boston.”
“Yeah,” he repeated weakly. “Imagine that.”
“She just told us this morning.”
Fuck!
“Jesse?” Heather called after him as the jangling bell signaled his hasty exit. “Do you want to leave her a message?”
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Jesse ran back across the street to his Hummer, then peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing, leaving a ten-foot swath of smoking rubber on the pavement. This is all my fault! She is leavin’ because of me! Because of that goddamn ticket! Christ, I have to do somethin’! I have to fix this!
He drove like a maniac, lights and sirens blazing. By the time he arrived at Marshall’s Hill, the Hummer wasn’t the only thing going ninety miles an hour. His heart was racing, banging against his chest, as though seeking a way to escape. Skidding through the gravel, he nicked through the open gate and raced up the long, winding driveway.
Sarah and Lynn Reynolds, a stylish woman around Jesse’s age, were standing out in the parking area when he screeched to a halt, climbed out and strode across the pavement toward Lynn’s red Corvette . Both women were eyeing him with wide-eyed apprehension, which puzzled him until he realized that the tension on his face must make him look scary as hell. It took all his effort to throttle back his anxiety and force his features into a more disarming expression. He even threw in what he hoped was a pleasant smile.
Stifling the urge to commit mayhem, he hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and reduced his powerful stride to a mere saunter, in order to appear as non-threatening as possible. Both women visibly relaxed as he approached. “Mornin’, ladies,” he drawled.
“Mornin’, Chief.”
“Lynn, you just about done here? I need to speak to Sarah.”
“Sure, Jesse. Just leaving.” The realtor gave Sarah a swift hug. “Thanks for the tour, Sarah. I still think the Virginia Historical Society is the best way to go. With the economy as bad as it is right now, a multi-million-dollar property like Marshall’s Hill could be on the market for months—years, even. It would be a shame for it to fall into disrepair. I’ll go ahead and list it, though. I know of at least a dozen web sites that’ll give it the kind of attention it deserves. I’ll have a photographer come out next week and take pictures…”
Still talking, Lynn got into her car and drove off down the hill, leaving Sarah and Jesse alone, standing in front of Sarah’s silver Prius, separated only by the width of its hood. The woodsy scent of his aftershave, mingled with the musk of pure elemental male, surrounded her, invading her nostrils. God, she’d always loved the way he smelled!
Forcing herself to stand her ground, she watched him warily, almost defiantly as he slowly, deliberately shortened the distance between them, until he stopped, close enough that she could feel his heat. Feel the raw power that radiated from every cell of his body. She licked her lips nervously. Her heart began to flutter, doing strange things to her breathing. Pinioned by no more than his gaze, she might just as well have been tightly restrained. She couldn’t move. Not even when he took one last step toward her, dark intent in his eyes, in every line of his face. God, he is so…
Swallowing hard, she locked her knees to keep herself from falling to the ground in an ungainly heap. Her eyes closed. Lord, she wanted him. Worse, she needed him. Needed his arms around her, holding her, caressing her. Needed his cock inside her, fu—
No!
She stiffened, slamming the lid ruthlessly on her traitorous thoughts. No, no, no! She fought the urge to step back. Okay, this clenches it. I’m definitely going to have to move to Boston. Having him in her thoughts and dreams all these years had been bad enough. But having him in her life? Actually seeing him every day, feeling the heat of his powerful body, inhaling the musk of his scent, hearing the midnight velvet of his voice as he treated her like an acquaintance, polite but distant? Wanting him as desperately as she did, knowing he didn’t want her? She shivered. She simply could not begin to imagine how painful such an existence would be. But the alternative was almost as bad, if not worse. Being over five hundred miles away and not seeing him, knowing he was here? What kind of torture would that be?
He stood quietly, watching the conflicting emotions chase each other across her face. Watching her chin lift and her spine slowly stiffen as she mentally steeled herself against him. Nearly frantic with worry, he wanted to grab her and pull her against him and kiss her breathless. Wanted to slide his aching dick into her wet heat and—
Christ!
He fairly itched to take action. After all, he was an expert when it came to taking action. But gut instinct told him that action was not what was needed here. If he made even the slightest move toward her, she would turn and run like a frightened gazelle. No, this was a time for inaction. Fortunately, he was also an expert at that. It had saved his life more times than he could count.
So he simply stood there, still and silent, with that preternatural stillness that is drilled into special-ops soldiers from the moment they enlist until it becomes an innate part of who and what they are. Those who never master this vital skill quickly become either civilians or dead.
As he continued to stand there without moving, Sarah’s nerves began to get the better of her. Opening her eyes, she tilted her head back to look up at him. The breath clotted in her lungs. His black eyes bore into hers and it took all of her determination not to turn and flee into the house. She had to maintain control over her reaction to him. She simply had to.
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br /> But she couldn’t control the hammering beat of her heart or the dryness of her mouth. Nor could she control the clenching of her vaginal walls or the following gush of hot cream out onto the silk of her panties. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard. Get a grip, Sarah.
“Jesse,” she said stiffly, inclining her head.
“ Sarah.” His lips curved upward in a mocking smile. “You runnin’?”
“I—” She cleared her throat. “Of course not, don’t be silly. I’m not running anywhere.”
“No?” Jesse chuckled and she went up in flames at the sheer sexiness of the sound. So much for maintaining control. She wanted him so badly, it was all she could do not to throw herself at him and beg him to fuck her, just like she had on the day of her eighteenth birthday. The day he had simply walked away and disappeared from her life, taking her heart and her father’s money with him. Is this why he came back here? she wondered. To torment me? To torture me with visions of what might have been?
God, she wanted to cry at the sheer hopelessness of it all.
“You’re not runnin’ from me? From this? From us?”
“There is no us, Jesse,” she pointed out coldly. “There never was any us. As you have made abundantly clear on more than one occasion.” She was far from being as detached as she managed to make her voice sound.
He bent his head forward, touching her ear with his lips. Her skin was satin smooth and damp with perspiration. Her scent closed over him, swamping him, sending a current of electricity sizzling over his skin. Pleasure blindsided him, stealing the air from his lungs. Every cell in his body burst into vibrant, throbbing life. He shut his eyes; his throat closed up. God, he needed her so much. Leaving her had gouged a hole in his soul, a hole that had never healed. He swallowed painfully. “You’re movin’ to Boston, I hear,” he said hoarsely. “That’s not runnin’?”
“Of course not.” She lifted her chin. “It’s simply getting on with my life. I—I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time now.”
“Liar.” His chuckle sent hot chills feathering up and down her spine. “You never could lie worth a damn, Sarah.”
“I’m not lying!”
She took a step backward, half turning away from him, but he stopped her by grabbing her upper arms. Fuck stillness! If I don’t make my move now, I’ll lose her forever! A violent wave of need shot through him, making him grit his teeth. Holding her by the arms he backed her up against her car, moving inexorably toward her until his body was pressing against hers and his mouth was a mere inch away. His eyes roved over her, hot and hungry and possessive. “You can’t leave, Sarah. You and I have unfinished business between us.”
For just an instant, her knees went weak, threatening to buckle, before she somehow managed to find the strength to stiffen them. “Let me go, Jesse,” she ordered, pushing against him furiously, hating the helpless feeling that swept over her as he trapped her between his hard body and the hood of her car. “There’s nothing between us. Nothing!”
“Oh, no?” His arms went around her, crushing her breasts against his chest, the pressure of his hips holding her in place against her car. She could deny it all she wanted, but her body betrayed her. Her pupils were so dilated her eyes looked black, her skin was flushed, her breathing shallow. Her scent, the sweet, pungent smell of her arousal hit him like a drug. It exploded through him, hot and potent, making him feverish with the need to fuck her. “What do you call this, then?”
And, just like that he crushed her mouth beneath his in a kiss that was just this side of brutal, forcing her mouth open to admit his seeking tongue. She pushed frantically against his chest, struggling to break free, but he twisted his hand in her hair to hold her head still beneath the onslaught of his kiss. His mouth attacked her, devoured her, consumed her, igniting her blood until she felt her anger and unhappiness melting away like hot wax.
Without conscious thought she stopped struggling, her arms creeping up his chest to loop around his neck. As kisses went, this one was devastating, tasting of sex, lust, and raw male power. Need slammed into her, primal and primitive. Need and a ravening hunger so fierce it robbed her of everything but this man and how he made her feel. Alive. Vibrant. Surging with energy and crackling with electricity. She arched into him, moaning and grinding her hips against the steel of his erection, mindlessly seeking more of his heat, more of his touch.
As his tongue curled around hers in a sensual duel, he released her hair to slide his hands down her back. They stroked over her buttocks before gripping the round curves of her ass. With a low groan, he lifted her skirt and pulled her hips tighter against him, grinding his pelvis against her mound, trying to let her know how badly he wanted her, how much he ached for her. How much he needed her.
How much she ravished his heart.
He deepened the kiss, wanting to make it last forever. Wanting to imprint it on both their memories for all time. But his control was unraveling faster than the speed of light, and if he didn’t stop soon, he would take her right there in her driveway. Gasping, he raised his head, his breathing harsh and heavy. He pressed his forehead to hers, squeezing her ass one last time before moving his arms up and tightening them convulsively around her back.
His face was so close it filled her entire field of vision. His gaze sucked the air out of her lungs, stealing her breath, stealing her very soul. He surrounded her with his raw masculinity, making her knees weak, making her clit throb with the need raging inside her. She felt heavy, paralyzed, chained to the earth by the weight of her need for him.
“You can’t move to Boston, Sarah. I just found you again. Why do you think I came back to Marshall’s Creek?”
“Stop it, Jesse,“ she begged through lips that felt bruised and swollen from his kiss. “Stop doing this to me. All you’ve ever done is push me away from you and I can’t take it anymore. I’m moving to Boston. You can’t stop me.”
He lifted his head, pinioning her with his gaze, his eyes hot and seething with a hunger so desperate, it literally stopped his heart. God, she just…wrecked him. “I came back for you,” he whispered starkly, touching her cheek gently with the tip of his finger. “Only you. You’re all I’ve thought about for eight long years.”
“Don’t lie to me!” she cried accusingly, twisting away from him, leaving both of them feeling bereft. “You left me, damn you. You took the goddamned money and left! You took away everything, Jesse! Everything! Including my heart!” Tears rolling down her cheeks, her shoulders sagged in defeat. She shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore, Jesse. I can’t keep letting you jerk me around the way you do. Not again—” Her voice broke. “The way you treated me yesterday, like a complete stranger—the ticket—I just—”
“God, I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know what got into me. Look.” He reached into his jacket pocket and removed the offending slip of paper. Ripping it into tiny pieces, he opened his hand and let the wind carry them away. “It’s gone—you don’t have to pay it.”
“That’s not the point, Jesse.” Turning her head away, she bit her lower lip. She closed her eyes, absorbing the smell of him, the feel of him as his heat wrapped around her. She struggled to ignore how close he was to her, but it was a losing battle. Every singing nerve in her body knew how close he was to her. Knew it and rejoiced with tiny pinpricks of awareness that sent goose bumps racing across her flesh.
This time when he reached for her, she didn’t resist. She couldn’t. Hating how weak she was, she melted against him, lifting her arms around his neck. Sliding his hands down her back, he pulled her hips hard against his, grinding his pelvis against her. His cock was like an outcropping of granite. Neither of them could prevent their groans.
“God, Sarah, feel what you do to me. What you’ve always done to me.” His voice was an anguished whisper. He inhaled deeply, pulling her fragrance to the bottom of his lungs. God, she smelled so good. Like sunshine. Like summer. Like a warm breeze blowing across a meadow in full bloom.
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“Stop this, Jesse, I don’t want you.”
He stuck out his tongue and licked her neck and in spite of the firmness of her declaration, Sarah couldn’t prevent the tiny mewling cry that escaped her lips. “Liar.” His hot breath against her sensitive skin was making her quiver from head to toe. “You want me so bad you can hardly contain it. I can smell how bad you want me.” His lips brushed her sensitive skin. The caress heated her, practically burning her alive, igniting flames wherever it touched. She was melting inside, drowning in the liquid fire that was pouring through her. Yet, in spite of the heat threatening to immolate her, she shivered.
Turning her swiftly in his arms, before she could resist or protest, he pushed her shoulders down until she was bent over the hood of her car. The length of his erection pressed hard against her ass through all the layers of their clothing. His mind was screaming at him, telling him to stop, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. All the blood in his body had pooled in his groin. And even though his brain was still listing every reason he shouldn’t be doing this, he was no longer listening to his brain. He was finally doing what he’d dreamed of doing for eight long, fucking years! Bending his body over her, pressing his chest against her back, he reached down along her thighs and grabbed the hem of her black silk skirt, pulling it up until it was bunched around her waist.
Her muscles clenched in anticipation of his touch. Everything below her waist melted as his scent went straight to the dark, primitive part of her brain that operates without thought or logic or reason. Arousal seared her, flaming hot and pulsing with a need that was primal. The force of her need thickened her throat, making breathing difficult, speech impossible.
He thrust his hand beneath the silk of her black lace thong, one thick finger sliding through her slit as if searching for buried treasure. “Jesus, baby, you’re dripping!” A second finger joined the first, both of them rimming the entrance to her vagina as she shuddered helplessly beneath him. He powered them up inside her, curving them to rasp his callouses across the soft, spongy tissue of her G-spot.
Loving Sarah (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 6
