He looked almost edible lying there propped up on his side, watching her with his sexy eyes. She didn’t feel the need to cover up or hide from him. In fact, she loved the fact that, judging by his body language, he obviously liked what he saw.
“So I gather you must not have been a Boy Scout,” she said.
He grinned. “Ahh, because I’m not prepared.” He laughed. “Actually, I was a Scout, way back when. I guess I’m a bit rusty in the preparedness department these days. But don’t tell anyone because I may have to give back my merit badge.”
“You can always earn that badge back.”
“Oh, yeah? Exactly what did you have in mind?”
She ran her hand down the length of his body until she found his manhood. She touched him, happy to see that he was still every bit as ready to go as he had been before they’d been forced to stop.
“How do you feel about going and getting something for us? There’s a twenty-four-hour drugstore two blocks from here. Will you do it? Please?”
He pursed his lips, and at first he seemed uncertain. For a moment she thought he might say no. But then he leaned in and feathered a kiss onto her lips before he lifted himself off the bed and got dressed.
He was back within ten minutes.
While he was gone, Kinsley opened a bottle of wine and lit some candles.
She handed him a glass when he came into the bedroom. “I was going to say that this deed deserved another kind of merit badge,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, “but I see that you’re way ahead of me.”
She smiled. “So kiss me.”
He complied, kissing her for a long time. Leisurely and thorough kisses that had her wondering, once again, if he had changed his mind while he was out and decided to take things slowly. He was still dressed even though he was stretched out beside her on the bed.
She ran her hand along the waistband of his blue jeans, tearing at the fabric of his shirt until her fingers struck gold...bare skin. He helped her by drawing it up and over his head.
She sighed as she drank in the raw beauty of him. When she straddled him, she could feel his erection through his pants. The thought of his body—so sexy and large—moving inside her ignited a slow burn in her belly. She wanted him more now than when he’d first touched her.
She ran both hands over his abs, up his chest and out onto his well-defined biceps. And, hello, there were those shoulders. They were broad and ropy, making his torso taper into a manly vee that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. Those jeans.
They were the only thing that still stood between them.
She inhaled sharply.
Pace yourself.
She steadied herself by allowing her hands to travel back down over his abs, memorizing his form and the feel of the muscles under her hands.
She was so caught up in the beauty and feel of him, of his skin on her skin, that she was a little startled when he rolled her over and his hands did the exploring. They glided over her hips, down to her thighs and dipped between them.
This was really going to happen. She was ready and hyperaware of every breath, every kiss, every touch. When his hand found her most vulnerable spot, she shivered with anticipation. She noticed that his body seemed to tremble, too.
She put a little space between them and slowly unzipped his jeans. Together they got him out of his pants and his underwear. Finally, when nothing stood between them, she reached out and brushed her fingertips over his manhood. His body shuddered. He inhaled a sharp breath and his body arched slightly. Even though she’d already gotten a good look at him, she devoured his male glory with her eyes, from his flat, muscled stomach...up farther to his biceps and his shoulders...to his throat and the chiseled planes of his face. She stroked him and learned every inch of him, committing his body to memory, but he didn’t let her linger for long. He pulled away and picked up the condom packet, ripping it open. As she watched him put the condom on the generous length of his maleness, she thought she would go over the edge before they’d even began. Once everything was in place, he settled himself between her legs. She welcomed him by opening her thighs so that their bodies could join.
The physical sensations of what was happening made her shudder with excitement. He entered her with a tender, unhurried push. The heat that radiated from him seeped into her. His body was stiff as he gently inched forward, going so very slowly and being so careful. As her body adjusted to welcome him, she joined him in a slow rocking rhythm.
“Christopher,” she whispered. “Oh...Christopher...”
Her sighs were lost in his kiss. He touched her with such care and seemed to instinctively know what her body wanted.
Pleasure began to rise and she angled her hips up to intensify the sensation. Their union seemed so very right that she cried out from the sheer pleasure of it.
She wanted him to feel good, too. She needed to touch him, to give him the same pleasure he was giving her. So she slid her hand between their bodies, reaching for him, wanting to heighten his pleasure. But he grabbed her wrist and held her hand firmly.
“Not yet,” he said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because. Just...not...yet.” His breathlessness matched her own. “When you touch me, you make me...crazy. And this...this time is for you.”
He stretched her arms up over her head and held them there as he rocked her toward her first release. As spasms of ecstasy overtook her body, his lips reclaimed hers.
The gentle, almost reverent way he touched her proved that he had been worth waiting for...but his hunger for her was never so evident as when he came up for air and devoured her with voracious eyes.
She couldn’t get enough of his touch. As if he read her mind, he drove into her with such intensity she fisted her hands into the bed sheets and gasped, arching against him, propelled by the pulsing heat that was growing and throbbing inside her.
“Let yourself go,” he said, his voice hoarse and husky. “Just let go, Kinsley.”
Maybe it was the heat of his voice in her ear; more likely it was the way he made her body sing with his touch, but the next thing she knew he had driven her over the edge for the second time that night.
Again, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, protectively, until she had ridden out the wave.
She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, of their joining, needing to get as close to him as possible. He continued to hold her tight. She lost herself again in his broad shoulders and the warmth of his strong arms.
“How was that?” His voice was a throaty rasp.
When she lifted her head and looked at him, his eyes searched her face.
“It was great. Really, breathtakingly great.”
He smiled. “And I’m not finished yet.”
The feel of his bare skin against hers almost put her into sensory overload.
She was so aware of him, of the two of them fused so closely that it seemed they were joined body and soul.
Christopher buried his head in the curve of her neck and let out a deep moan.
She eased her palms down his back, kissed him hard and fast and then things got a little crazy as she wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her nails into his shoulders. He didn’t seem to mind how tightly she was clinging to him. So she held him in place by the shoulders and shifted under him. The way he groaned was so delicious that she arched beneath him again, drawing him deeper inside.
* * *
At that moment, staring down into her clear eyes, his body joined with hers, Christopher felt the mantle of his life shift. All of a sudden, without explanation, everything was different.
How could that happen now when it had never happened before?
Because he’d never been in love before now.
He was in love with Kinsley’s l
augh and her mind and the way she was able to set him straight without making him feel as if he’d been lambasted. He loved the way she felt in his arms right now, the smell of her smooth skin and the way she gazed up at him with a certain look in her eyes that was equal parts courage and vulnerability. It was everything he already knew about her and all the things he had yet to discover. He wanted to be the first face she saw in the morning and the last face she saw before she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep at night. He wanted to be the shoulder she cried on and the lips she kissed.
He wanted to prove to her that all men weren’t like her father, and she deserved someone who was crazy about her, someone who adored her the way she deserved to be loved.
He wanted to show her that love didn’t have to hurt. The only problem was the prospect of doing that, rendering his heart that vulnerable, leaving it in someone else’s hands, scared him to death.
But it was too late now. Judging by the way he felt, he had a feeling he’d already passed the point of no return.
“Christopher?” Kinsley’s eyes searched his face. “Are you...okay?”
“I am absolutely better than okay.” He kissed her deeply, pulling her to him so tightly that every inch of their bodies were merged. He hadn’t particularly cared how close he’d felt to other women he’d been intimate with. But as he built up to the pace that would simultaneously transport Kinsley and him to nirvana, he wanted to see her face. He needed a one hundred percent connection. Not just body to body, but eye to eye and soul to soul.
It didn’t take long before their bond, coupled with the rhythmic motion of their bodies, carried them over the edge together. As he lay with her, sweaty and spent, he cradled her against him.
As they’d made love, three words had been darting around inside his head. Now they’d somehow found their way to the tip of his tongue.
Oh, man.... Don’t do that, he thought. You’re caught up in the moment. Don’t say things you don’t mean.
The problem was, he did mean it. With all his soul.
Even so, meaning it and following through with the implications of I love you were two very different things.
* * *
Kinsley rolled over onto her stomach and looked up at him. “Are you really okay?”
He wanted to tell her exactly how he felt. Except when he opened his mouth all that came out was, “I’ve never been better.”
Christopher wasn’t used to being in this position of vulnerability. Since he’d been in Red Rock, he’d been used to being in command. But this woman lying in his arms had changed everything.
Frankly, it scared him to death.
Chapter Twelve
Christopher didn’t find his way home until late Sunday night. And that was only because he didn’t have any suitable work clothes over at her place.
Once he was at home, with a little space to digest what had happened between them, he realized two very important things about himself: that he was in love with Kinsley, even if he didn’t know how to tell her, and that he needed to be the one to reach out to his father and set their relationship on the road to right.
Funny, last week if someone had told him that falling in love would change him so much that he’d be willing to extend the olive branch to Deke, he would’ve told them to go to hell.
But here he was, at nine o’clock on Sunday night, staring at his cell phone as he dialed his parents’ number.
He had to do it now before he changed his mind or the spell that Kinsley had cast on him wore off.
Somehow, he didn’t believe that this call would do any good. His old man was as stubborn as a bulldog that had clamped down on a stick. Once Deke sank his teeth into something there was no prying it loose. Everything in his world was black-and-white. He wasn’t about to change his mind about his son.
How his sweet mother had put up with him all these years was a mystery. As he listened to the phone ring two-three-four times, the realization washed over Christopher that the reason he had decided to be the one to reach out and try to make amends was so he could know in his heart that he had done everything in his power to not be like his father.
Good, bad or indifferent, it had taken him a while to realize that. And it had taken the childhood experiences of a great woman to help him reframe his situation and see his family with a new appreciation. Kinsley was right, the family you took for granted wasn’t going to be there forever. Having lost both of her parents within a one-year period, Kinsley was living proof of this.
Her father sounded like a monster. While Deke could be difficult, the old coot had never emotionally or physically abused his family. Sure he was hard on them. You could say a lot of things about Deke Jones, but he always did right by his family. Or at least, his version of right.
Wasn’t that something to hold on to? Something to focus on? Because when he put it all into perspective, Christopher knew his upbringing could’ve been a whole lot worse.
It was probably too late to call the house on a Sunday night, anyway. Deke, the creature of habit he was, had probably been in bed for a good half hour.
Maybe, subconsciously, he’d known that and that was the reason he’d decided to call...or maybe he shouldn’t overthink it. He could try again tomorrow.
Christopher had just pulled the phone away from his ear, when he heard a craggy voice grunt and gruff, “Hello?”
Hesitating, Christopher drew in a breath as he brought the phone to his ear.
“Hello?” the man repeated, the irritation in his voice mounting.
Deke and Jeanne Marie didn’t have caller ID so there was no way he would’ve known it was his son. In his mind’s eye Christopher could see Deke giving the phone a dirty look before he slammed the receiver back into the cradle.
“Pops? It’s Chris.”
Silence answered him. For a moment he wondered if Deke had already hung up. But then the old man said, “Son?” His voice was so soft, it was barely audible and most un-Deke-like.
“Yeah, Pops, it’s me. Is this a good time? I hope I’m not calling too late.”
Christopher waited for Deke to cut him off at the knees as he was so fond of doing. The old man had had two months to stew on his anger at Chris for abandoning the ranch to take a desk job pushing papers, for disassociating himself from the Jones name, moving to Red Rock and surely a plethora of other sins real or imagined of which he had found Christopher guilty.
“You can ring this house at midnight and I would take your call, son. It’s good to hear your voice.”
As Deke’s positive response registered, Christopher exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. On the other end of the line, he heard his father call to his mom. “Jeanne, it’s Chris on the phone. Get in here.”
“Chris, it’s ladies first. Talk to your mama and then she’ll give me the phone.”
His mother was her usual, sweet, unconditional self, saying how much she and the family had missed him but that they all understood that he was making a nice life for himself in Red Rock.
“I do wish you would come home to visit soon,” she said, her voice a little wistful. “You don’t know what I’d give to hug you.”
Christopher made noises about being busy at work but promised that he would see what he could do about arranging some time off for a visit. He thought about telling her that she and Deke were always welcome in Red Rock but decided against it. Deke would never hear of making the trip. Not even if it was his wife’s dying wish— Christopher stopped himself from tumbling down the path of negativity that he usually traveled when he conversed with his father. Old Deke had started the conversation off nicely enough. Even though it raised his hackles, Christopher forced himself to take the high road and not instigate an argument...and to refuse the invitation if Deke invited him to one.
“I got the photo album you m
ade for me, Mama. I really appreciate it.”
“I wanted you to have some pictures from Toby and Angie’s wedding. We all missed you. It was a beautiful day, but it would’ve been even better if you had stood up with your brother.”
A pang of guilt stabbed Christopher right in the heart. He grabbed the album off the end table where it had been hidden under a stack of magazines and financial newspapers since he’d brought it home from the office.
He opened it to a page featuring a five-by-seven photo of the smiling bride and groom. He flipped the page and saw another of the entire family—minus him, of course—gathered around his brother and his new sister-in-law.
It really had been ridiculous and selfish to miss such an important occasion. But with the frame of mind he’d been in then and as mad as Deke had been at him, there was no way he was going to cast a dark shadow over his brother’s big day.
He heard Kinsley’s voice in the back of his head saying, Don’t dwell on things you can’t change. Look forward and spend that energy on things that matter.
Toby understood why he’d stayed away and that was all that mattered. Still, a funny feeling circled in his gut like a shark poised to attack.
“It was great to see Toby when he and Angie were here in town. Will you please be sure and tell him I called?”
“I sure will, honey. But I’m going to hand the phone over to your dad now. He’s getting a little antsy waiting to talk to you.”
Right. That would be the day the sky fell when Deke stood antsy with anticipation waiting to talk to his black-sheep son. Christopher wanted to snort, but he didn’t. Instead, he told his mother he loved her and promised her one more time that he would do his best to make it home for a visit as soon as he could manage.
Then he put on his emotional armor and prepared for Deke to shoot him like a sniper poised and ready high atop a building.
“Well, now it’s my turn,” Deke said.
Christopher held his tongue, unsure if that was sarcasm or sincerity in his dad’s tone.
“You made your mama really happy by calling tonight, son.”
Falling for Fortune Page 14
