Tempting Torment

by Jo Goodman

  "Not the drink," Noah said. He shook his head to emphasize his point but the movement caused the room to start spinning. Closing his eyes only made everything worse. His moan was muffled by the pillow.

  Hardening her heart to him, Jessa continued to work on her stitches and didn't encourage conversation by glancing in his direction. It wasn't until she heard the gentle, slightly labored sound of his even breathing that she put aside the mending, dressed for bed, and turned back the lamps. When she slipped beneath the covers she discovered the bed was not so enormous as she had supposed, not when Noah had managed to cast himself in the middle with his long legs and arms sprawled in every direction. She pushed at one of his arms and nudged his leg aside gingerly, making room for herself.

  "You want t'cuddle after all?" he asked huskily.

  Surprised, Jessa bolted upright. "Aren't you asleep yet?"

  "Juss nappin'... waitin' for you. Anyway, how'm I to sleep when you're crawlin' all over me?"

  "I was not crawling! You, sir, have commanded both sides of the middle!"

  He laughed. "What?"

  "Kindly move."

  "Oh." Noah obliged by turning on his side. He was still squarely in the middle of the feather tick but his arms and legs were pulled in. He patted the empty space beside him. "You can sleep right here." In case she had other ideas or further objections, Noah grasped Jessa's wrist and gave her a tug. Off balance, she fell on her side and faced him.

  "There was really no need for that," she said stiffly, trying to release her wrist. Noah relaxed his fingers and Jessa eased away.

  "See?" he asked in the manner of a man who had already made his point obvious.

  Jessa remained confused. "See what?"

  "Soon as I let you go, you go. Don't you like me at all, Jessa?"

  "You're talking nonsense, Noah. In fact, you're quite bosky." And frisky, she thought to herself. Noah's hand had wandered to her hip, and he was slowly rubbing his palm up and down the length of her thigh. She slapped him away playfully, not wishing to rouse his anger.

  "S'cruel t'me." His hand went to his heart in a theatrical gesture. "S'very cruel."

  Jessa was not proof against his silliness. She laughed and poked him in the chest. When he managed to trap her hand beneath his, she didn't yank it back, but left it there, feeling the warmth of his flesh against her palm, the beat of his heart filling her hand. "You're foxed, Noah McClellan, absolutely foxed."

  "Hmm," he said agreeably, a smile touching the corner of his mouth. "You said that before. Lovely feeling though."

  "It certainly appears that way."

  Noah's thumb stroked the soft, delicate underside of Jessa's wrist. "This is a lovely feeling, too." His tone became more serious and his gaze rested on Jessa's upturned face. "You never answered m'question. Don't you like me at all?"

  "It was a ridiculous question."

  "Not so ridic... ridi... silly." He waited for a response and when none came he prompted, "Well?"

  "Most often I like you well enough."

  "Oh." He decided he could be satisfied with that. What had liking to do with what he wanted from her? He had said as much to Jack after a few pints of grog had loosened his tongue. Jack's censorious silence had been excuse enough to drink more. "That's good." He was thoughtful a moment. "Did I ever tell you you have beautiful breasts?"

  "Noah!" She withdrew her hand only to have him pin both her legs beneath one of his.

  "It's true," he insisted, leaning into her. One arm rested in the curve of her waist.

  "This conversation is absurd. I believe I already pointed out that you are not at your most eloquent. Would you please let me up?" She pushed at his shoulder and couldn't budge him. "Noah, please! I don't think you know what you're do—" Jessa stopped in the middle of her thought. Was it true? she wondered. Come morning, would he remember?

  From her own experience she knew her father had sometimes forgotten events when he was deep in his cups. Once, while secretly watching her parents entertain fifty or more guests in the ballroom, Jessa had dislocated her shoulder when she tumbled from her secret perch on the stairs. Her father had ridden for the physician himself, helped the man set her shoulder, and stayed at Jessa's side the rest of the night. The following morning he didn't know why he had awakened in her room and couldn't recall riding for the doctor or setting her shoulder. When he discovered, seemingly for the first time, what she had done he had given her a thorough dressing down for her willfulness and unladylike behavior, showing none of the compassion and sympathy he had demonstrated the night before.

  Could it be the same with Noah? And even if he remembered, was he in any state now to know precisely what he had done? Would he realize if he made love to her now that she was a virgin? Jessa felt his hand at her breast. This time she didn't move it away. His stroking was clumsy, lacking the finesse and erotic deftness he would have given her had he been completely in control of his actions. Hah! He probably thought he was acting with gentleness and charm.

  Jessa made her decision. She would suffer his caresses this night and let him have his way. He would be none the wiser and she would be rid of the only evidence which could damn her. In keeping with this excellent plan, Jessa wound her arms about Noah's shoulders and pulled him closer. As his mouth settled over hers she was moved to change one opinion. Perhaps she wouldn't be suffering after all.

  She thought his mouth would be sour. It wasn't. There was the lingering taste of rum and something else. Peppermint? Her lips pressed a smile against his. Had Noah thought he could conceal his drinking by sucking on a peppermint stick? It was probably Cam's idea. The boy had a stash of them somewhere, had even offered them to Gideon on occasion. She was glad he had offered one to Noah. The kiss was sweet.

  Noah's mouth captured Jessa's sigh of pleasure. His tongue teased her sensitive upper lip and she moved a little restlessly beneath him. Her fingernails marked the flesh of his back with tiny crescents. Noah's thumb passed back and forth across her nipple. Beneath the thin fabric of her shift he could feel her arousal.

  "You like that, don't you?" he asked on a thread of sound.

  Jessa was surprised and a trifle embarrassed as well. Burying her face in his shoulder, she nodded. His soft laughter tickled the nape of her neck a moment before his mouth touched her there. She felt his hands move to her hair and begin to unwind her braid with astonishingly deft fingers. Vaguely aware that his movements were no longer groping or lacking in persuasive tenderness, Jessa felt a frisson of fear that he was not as drunk as he seemed. Just as she would have pulled away, wary now, Noah's fingers became hopelessly tangled in her hair.

  Jessa laughed softly at his puzzled, helpless look and eased her hair out of his grasp, drawing it over her shoulder. "That's why I keep it braided," she said. "It has a will of its own."

  Noah's eyes fastened on the fine spill of her hair. In the moonshine it was a pale wash of color, gold and silver strands blending evenly and framing her face in radiant light. Noah felt the impact of her ethereal, outer-worldly beauty with all the force of a blow to his middle. For a moment it was even difficult to breathe. More carefully now, he touched the soft curling ends with his fingertips. The back of his fingers brushed her breast.

  There was a reverent quality to Noah's hesitant caress which struck Jessa deeply. She took his hand and held it still for a moment, then raising it to her lips, she kissed the backs of his fingers. When the tip of her tongue touched the pad of Noah's thumb she heard his sharp intake of breath and felt desire shiver through him. She was not aware that she was smiling a siren's beckoning smile or that her eyes issued a sorceress's invitation. But when Noah's mouth covered hers she knew he had done precisely the thing she had been wanting.

  At first the pressure of his lips was light, teasing, just hinting at the passion he felt. It was when Jessa taunted him in kind, flicking her tongue along his upper lip then retreating coyly, that Noah deepened the kiss and eased the steady pull of desperate longing.

  Jessa
's arms circled him. Her fingers threaded in his thick hair then drifted lower, brushing his nape, his shoulders, tracing the taut length of his spine. And lower still, insinuating themselves beneath the waistband of his drawers and the warm flesh of his buttocks. She touched him as she had longed to, released from her shyness by the knowledge that he couldn't possibly know how much she ached at this moment. She drew patterns on his back, felt the bunching of his arms beneath her palms and tightening in his legs. She loved the smell of him, the lingering scent of rum and peppermint and the musky, male fragrance that was peculiarly Noah's own. Her hands drifted again to his waist and her fingers slipped below his drawers, teasing him with the lightest of touches.

  Growling deep in his throat, Noah broke the kiss, raising his head a fraction. His hands lifted to frame her face, and he captured her darkening eyes with his own. "Who'm I, Jessa?"

  She did not hesitate answering. "Noah," she whispered, holding his gaze. His face was beautiful, stamped with desire he made no attempt to hide. His eyelids looked heavy but not sleepy. His mouth was parted but not slack. His lips were moist from her kisses and she wanted to touch her tongue to them again. She touched her own instead. "You're Noah. You're my husband... and I want you." Her hands slid from his back and paused on either side of his waist. She looked at him uncertainly, then sensing that he would not help or encourage her, Jessa made the decision entirely on her own. Slipping her hands between their bodies, she unfastened the front fall of his drawers.

  Noah sat up, stilling her hands when she tried to push the material down his narrow hips. "Couldn't stand it if you were teasin' me, Jessa. Are you?"

  She shook her head. "No. I'm not teasing." A measure of fear returned because Noah, except for the slight slur in his speech, seemed remarkably clearheaded. Again her wariness was pushed to the back of her mind when Noah's efforts to rid himself of his drawers proved awkward and clumsy. His sheepish expression tugged at her heart. Jessa sat up and helped him sort out the tangle he had managed to create around his ankles. She let him toss the drawers over the side of the bed and laughed at the smug, victorious look he shot them as they landed on the floor. Her laughter died when he turned to her and his expression was no longer smug, but serious... and alert, watchful.

  "Now you," he said.

  "Me?"

  "Mm. Your shift."

  Jessa's mouth was dry. Even when she had been helping him strip she had studiously avoided looking at Noah's shadowed thighs. But her gaze dropped the moment he pointed out it was her turn to undress and she could not seem to pull it away. While Noah seemed completely at ease, even indifferent to the proud, jutting state of his cock, Jessa couldn't begin to pretend nonchalance. She wasn't sure she could swallow, breathe or blink. She knew she was staring stupidly and that if she didn't stop Noah was going to know she had never seen an aroused man before. Still, Jessa couldn't turn her head. The simple mechanics of the intimate act they were going to share completely overwhelmed her. Her body couldn't accommodate... that.

  Noah broke the spell by drawing one corner of the sheet across his hips. Leaning forward, he touched Jessa's chin with his forefinger and raised her face. "I'll take that look as a compliment," he said, smiling crookedly. "I'd like t'be able t'return it. Take off your shift, Jessa. I want to see you."

  Jessa sat up on her knees and grasped the hem of her gown in fingers that trembled. She eased it up her thighs slowly, not because she wished to be provocative, but because her shyness had returned. Noah's hands closed over hers and helped her raise the gown. The ruffled hem drifted past her naked thighs, her buttocks, the taut plane of her abdomen. The material tickled the tips of her breasts, her shoulders, then it was being pulled over her head, and as her silky hair fell back into place, she was in Noah's arms and the things his mouth was doing to hers curled her insides.

  The delicious tension didn't ease as Noah pressed her against the bed and partially covered her with his body. Nor was there any lessening when he murmured husky endearments against her ear and touched the tip of her lobe with his tongue. "You're beautiful, Jessa. I don't think you know... sweet, so sweet." He kissed her eyelids, the soft pulse at her temples. His mouth followed the curve of her cheek. He nibbled at the column of her throat. Her breasts filled his palms and then his mouth claimed one. He laved the swollen bud with his tongue and suckled her gently. When her tiny gasp of pleasure reached his ears he gave attention to her other breast until he drew a like response.

  Jessa felt as if tiny flames were licking at her skin. Her fingers curled around Noah's shoulders and her leg rubbed restlessly against the length of his. When his hand stroked the inside of her thigh and touched her intimately, Jessa didn't shy from the caress. Instead she flowered beneath the gentle manipulation of his finger. Even her pulse thrummed to the rhythm he created. Her legs parted without his prompting, directed by the new urgency she felt within her. She was no longer afraid at the idea of taking him inside her. It was where she wanted him to be.

  "Please, Noah," she whispered. "Now. Please love me."

  Noah hesitated a moment, wanting to stroke her a little longer, caress her until her insides were as knotted as his, but then she begged him again and he was lost. He slid between her parted legs, cupping her buttocks in his palms. "Help me, Jessa."

  Coaxed by some instinct wiser than her fogged senses, Jessa guided Noah into her, lifting her hips slightly. She was the one, unconcerned by the consequences, who thrust upward and forced his entry. Swallowing a cry of pain, Jessa's hands dropped to the mattress and her fingers clutched the sheet beneath her.

  Noah leaned forward, supporting his weight on his elbows. His mouth hovered near Jessa's. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, searching her face. He held himself perfectly still, allowing her to get used to the feel of him, though it took every last vestige of control to do so.

  Jessa felt him warm and hard, throbbing inside her now, and the pain she had experienced gradually became no more than a sweet ache. It was all right, she thought. Everything was going to be fine. "No, you didn't hurt me."

  God, she sheathed him so tightly! How couldn't he have hurt her? "You're so tight... small." His hips moved slightly in response to the picture his words were evoking in his mind. "And... God, so sweet." It was agony for him to remain still. "Are you sure?"

  "Mm. I'm sure. It's... it's been a long time." All my life, she added silently. "Robert and I didn't... you know, when he found out I was pregnant, we didn't... and when I was ready again... after Gideon's birth... Robert was ill." She looked at him anxiously, wondering if she had gone too far by mentioning Robert's name. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought up his—"

  "Shh." He touched her lips gently. "It's all right. I'm glad you told me. I'll be careful." And he began to move inside her.

  Jessa could have cried then. She could have accepted roughness and pawing more easily than his tenderness. One would have assuaged her guilt, the other merely added to it.

  She didn't want to feel the return of the coiling tension, but Noah wouldn't have it otherwise. He was far more patient than she expected, and in her own mind, more patient than she deserved. Noah's hands caressed her slowly; his mouth played with hers. His loins applied a steady pressure, building a flame at the center of her. Jessa's palms stroked his back, dipped lower and slid across his buttocks. Her knees nudged his legs and her heels pushed against the mattress for purchase. Her throat arched and his lips felt the vibration of her excited cries before they were given sound.

  Nothing that was happening to her seemed real. She was a stranger to the sensations Noah was exacting from her. It was as if he held the key to a door she had never known existed. Sparks of color flickered behind her closed eyes as sparks of heat skittered across her skin. Tension snapped and rushed through her with a force that left her breathless. And then she smiled because in the sweet aftermath warm, languid pleasure bathed her limbs.

  "Look at me, Jessa," Noah urged. His own body tightened, straining for release, and still he held back
because he wanted to see her eyes, wanted to be certain that she knew it was his seed that she would accept, not Robert's.

  Jessa's lashes fluttered then she opened her eyes. Their pale gray color was only evident at the outer edge of the iris. The centers of her eyes were wide, fathomless, black and bright as polished onyx. "Noah," she whispered.

  "Oh, God, Jessa," he groaned, raising himself slightly. "Thank you for that." His thrusts were shallow now and quicker, and if she had screamed Robert's name at him Noah knew he wouldn't have been able to stop. But it was his name she said as she clutched his arms. It was his name that echoed in his ears as his back arched and his eyes closed and his body shuddered above her.

  Neither of them moved immediately. Jessa dragged her tapered nails across the back of Noah's neck, stroking his skin lightly. Her eyes were closed, hiding a sheen of tears. She didn't know if she were happy or sad or some confusing emotion between the two. When Noah drew away she knew a profound sense of loneliness. He covered them both with the sheet and the comforter, but to Jessa it was a poor substitute for the warmth of his body. Even the arm he slipped about her waist as he turned on his side did not seem sufficient. She wished he would say something. Or was he expecting her to say something? Did one talk at all after sharing what they had just shared?

  Apparently not, Jessa decided as she spared a glance at Noah's face. His head was resting on his outstretched arm and it would have been clear to even the meanest intelligence that he was sound asleep. He had gotten what he wanted. Oddly enough, she thought, so had she.

  Jessa turned on her side, facing him and touched his cheek softly with the back of her hand. "Come morning," she whispered, "it will be all right if you don't remember a thing. I have memories enough for both of us." Jessa's hand slipped to his neck and she closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to claim her also.

  * * *

  Noah woke at first light and remembering yesterday's events was the least of his problems. He recalled everything with a clarity that only added to the pounding in his head. Had he really just rolled off her and fallen asleep like some green youth sated with his first woman? Yes, he had done exactly that. Noah sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and held his aching head in his hands. God! He must have made her feel like a whore! Hell, he had treated tavern wenches better than he had treated this woman.