Unspoken

by Lisa Jackson

  “Not me,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Why’re you different?”

  “You tell me.” She tilted her head back, looked upward into his night-shadowed eyes.

  His teeth flashed white in an irreverent smile. “Okay. First, you’re rich as hell.”

  “No, I mean—”

  “And then you’re Judge Red Cole’s daughter.”

  “But—”

  “On top of that you’re spoiled and sassy and smart as a whip.”

  She didn’t know whether to be complimented or insulted. “Wait a minute—”

  “You ace all your tests in school, flirt outrageously with boys you never intend to date, drive that damned yellow convertible of yours too fast and study too hard. Sometimes you act like a spoiled brat and other times you seem a lot older and wiser than you should be.” Strong fingers twined in her hair, tilting her head back, forcing her to look at his night-darkened face. “You told me there was somethin’ important you wanted to talk about, that I had to meet you, and that was a damned lie—you and I both know it.”

  “It is important that we be together. Don’t you think?”

  “I’m just trying to be smart about this.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Nope. The truth is, I don’t know what to do with you, Shelby Cole,” he admitted, and for the first time since knowing him, she heard a note of desperation in his voice.

  “Liar,” she teased.

  “I’m serious.”

  Oh, if only you were! Love me, Nevada, oh, please just love me! She started to blurt out the words, but didn’t. ‘I’m serious, too,” she said.

  “And it scares the living hell out of me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t get involved with you, Shelby.”

  “You are involved.”

  Somewhere overhead a night bird flapped his wings, and the wind rustled through the leaves of the live oaks. Nevada kissed her forehead and she felt him tremble. “You and I—”

  “Don’t say it.” She moved a finger to his lips. “Don’t say we’re from different worlds or anything so—so clichéd as that,” she whispered. “I know it. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it does.” His mouth moved against her finger, his tongue flicking against her skin, making her shiver. She traced his lips and heard him groan from somewhere deep inside. With the tip of her finger she prodded slowly and he opened his mouth, his tongue surrounding her finger, his mouth gently sucking.

  Shelby quivered, her blood running hot and wild. Inside she turned to liquid fire. She wanted to kiss him, touch him, experience the wonder of making love to him.

  He pulled his head away. “Don’t,” he warned.

  “Why not?”

  “We don’t have to go through this again.” Releasing her, he swore under his breath and stepped back.

  “Nevada—”

  Angrily, he jabbed two sets of stiff fingers through his hair. “You don’t know what you’re getting into here,” he said tightly. She saw the tension in his broad shoulders as he walked to the shore of the creek and reaching upward, braced himself against a low branch of one of the oaks.

  “Of course I do.”

  “How?”

  “I—I know what happens between a man and woman.”

  “Do you?” His voice held a sneer of disbelief.

  “Yes! I was practically raised on this ranch. I—I watched the bulls with the cows and the stallions that were brought in for the mares. I—I wasn’t supposed to,” she admitted as she walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, “but I did.”

  He flinched. “Well, it’s a little different with people.”

  She laid her head between his shoulder blades, holding him close, hearing him breathe. Dear God, was that his heart beating so wildly, or hers? He smelled of smoke and musk, and his muscles flexed hard at the feel of her. “Different how?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Shelby. It’s not your style.”

  “Nevada—don’t you want me?”

  He let out a low groan; then, taking the hand that was flat over his abdomen, he pulled it downward to his fly. She started to jerk away, but he was forceful and flattened her palm over the bulge in his crotch. “What do you think?” he asked and let go.

  She didn’t. “That ... this ... is natural.”

  “Don’t mess with me, Princess,” he said. “What this is, is dangerous.”

  “Nevada, I think I love you.” The words were out before she could take them back.

  “Oh, shit, no. You don’t know a thing about love.” He turned and faced her again, and this time she saw more than anger in the lines of his face. There was a different emotion in his eyes, a raw pain she didn’t understand.

  “I know what I feel.”

  “You’re a kid.”

  “Eighteen next year.”

  “As I said, a kid.” Leaning his forehead against hers, he sighed. “You’d better leave.”

  “No.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips, felt his resistance and kissed him again, more slowly this time. His mouth opened, his tongue slipped past her teeth and he wrapped his arms around her. The world seemed to fade away as he kissed her long and hard. Her bones started to melt, her blood heated and she moaned softly when he lowered his head and kissed the comer of her mouth and the slope of her neck. His lips brushed a spot near her collarbone and deep inside she quaked, wanting more—oh God, so much more.

  Holding her tight, he rubbed against her. The hard fly of his jeans pressed into her mound, and through her shorts she could feel him—hot and hard and wanting.

  Slowly he backed her up until her rump was stopped by the trunk of one of the trees and he held her there, kissing her, his hands fisting in her hair, his mouth moving magically over every bare inch of her skin.

  “This is what you want, Shelby?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He kissed her harder, his tongue plunging into her mouth, his breathing raspy. Her chest was crushed, her legs pinned with his and she shivered with passion as he pulled her blouse from her cutoffs and moved a hand against her abdomen, reaching upward, fingers delving inside her bra to find her breast, graze her nipple.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” Oh, God, yes. Her thighs flexed involuntarily and she moaned. Unbuttoning her blouse, he slid the strap of her bra down her arm, then lifted her breast and slowly, nearly torturously, teased her nipple with his tongue and teeth.

  Deep inside she began to ache. Throb. Want with a hot need she’d never felt before. It felt so right to hold him, to kiss him, to do things she’d never before dared. A part of her knew that she was about to step through a door that would close forever behind her. And yet she couldn’t resist.

  Arching, she pressed her hips ever tighter to his, feeling his hardness, wanting that smooth skin against hers.

  He kissed and sucked. She grabbed his head, drawing him closer, feeling pleasure and pain as his teeth gently scraped her skin and her breast swelled, aching for more of his touch.

  “This is crazy,” he growled, but didn’t stop. She tossed back her head as together, clinging to each other, they slid to the ground. As her back pressed against the earth, he lifted his head and kissed her hard on the lips. He pushed her blouse over her shoulders and reached around her, unhooked her bra and bared her breasts to the night. His mouth and hands were everywhere, touching, kissing, feeling and causing her to shiver with need.

  Her heart pounded in her ears. Her fingers dug into his back until he paused long enough to yank his T-shirt over his head and toss it aside. Corded muscles flexed as he pulled her up to meet him. Hard, bare skin brushed hers. Boldly, she touched the flat nipples hidden within a sworling matt of springy chest hair. His nipples tightened beneath her fingertips. Quick as a rattler striking, he grabbed her wrist. “Careful—”

  “Of what?”

  “Me.”

  “Should I be scared?” she teased.
/>   “Oh, yeah.”

  In response she lowered her hand, her fingers skimming his skin to rest at the waistband of his jeans. He sucked in his breath and she felt the tip of his hardness.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered as she tugged at his button fly and his worn Levis parted in a rapid series of pops. She began to shove the jeans over his hips when he grabbed her wrists with steely fingers. “There comes a time, Shelby, when no man, and I mean no man, can stop.”

  Swallowing hard, she gazed into smoldering gray eyes and slowly reached forward. He sucked in his breath as her fingers surrounded the thickness of his cock and he closed his eyes when she moved her hand “Shelby—don’t,” he warned “I don’t know—oh. God.”

  He reacted quickly, kicking off his boots and jeans and reaching for the zipper of her cutoffs. It slid down in a soft hiss that seemed to echo through the hills. Effortlessly, he slid the scrap of denim and her panties down her legs, his fingers, pushing off her boots, and before she could take a second breath, she was lying naked with him, feeling the cool breath of wind bring goose bumps to her skin, hearing the rippling sound of the creek rushing past and the crack of distant thunder.

  Naked flesh pressed hard against naked flesh. Lips found lips. Shelby kissed and was kissed and her fingers dug into the hard muscles of Nevada’s back. There’s no going back, her mind warned, but she didn’t pay any attention; didn’t care.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he said staring down at her as he gently nudged her knees aside. “So damned beautiful.”

  Need and white-hot desire throbbed through her veins. The smell of sex was in the air.

  “I love you, Nevada,” she whispered fervently.

  He closed his eyes. Hesitated.

  He couldn’t stop. Not now. She pulled him closer and whispered hoarsely into his ear. “I want you. Nevada, please ... love ... me....”

  His arms surrounded her and he shifted, thrusting deep inside her, breaking the fragile barrier of her virginity and holding her close as she cried out.

  Nothing would ever be the same.

  Chapter Eight

  “I carved your initials in the hitching post outside the drugstore,” she whispered, cradled in Nevada’s arms, looking upward through the branches of the trees to the rapidly disappearing stars. Clouds had rolled in. the thunder that had sounded so far away was closer and she’d seen forks of lightning sizzling bright in the hills.

  “You didn’t.”

  “Mmm.” Snuggling against him, she sighed softly and listened to the sound of his breathing as afterglow slowly faded. So this was what it was like to make love to a man, to feel him inside you, to want his body joined with yours.

  Making love with him had been frightening and exhilarating. Painful at first and then incredible.

  “The hitching post in the middle of town?”

  “Yep. On the underside.”

  “What possessed you to do that?”

  She shrugged, feeling suddenly young and foolish. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “I’d hate to see what you consider a bad one.”

  She chuckled and knew she was falling hopelessly and gloriously in love.

  He kissed the top of her head. “You know, I think it might be considered a crime. Disfigurement of a public landmark, vandalism or—”

  She rolled over and shut him up with a kiss. Though she was sore between her legs from their lovemaking, she still wanted to be close to him, to feel him against her. His arms wrapped around her, and he shook his head as she lay on top of him.

  “You are somethin’.” He pressed his lips to the tops of her breasts.

  “What?”

  “Don’t know. Can’t figure it out.”

  “Try.”

  “Believe me, I have,” he said and then leaned up to kiss her mouth again. Harder this time. Insistent. She opened her mouth and sighed. His hands rubbed her back, settling near her buttocks—work-roughened palms molded to her soft skin. His fingers dug deep. Wind, smelling of rain, rushed across her bare skin, catching in her hair. Somewhere nearby an owl hooted.

  Shelby’s flesh tingled. He kissed each breast, his mouth pulling on her nipples.

  Liquid fire ran through her blood as he suckled, harder and harder. She closed her eyes. Beneath her his manhood stiffened.

  “Again?” she whispered incredulously, and before she could ask anything more he shifted slightly, adjusting himself to fill her again. She gasped as he drove upward, arching his back, his buttocks pinching. Strong hands held her fast and she began to sway, catching his slow-moving rhythm, losing herself in the magic of the night.

  Her mind spun with erotic images. Desire caused her to melt inside. He was everything at this moment, her beginning and end. She closed her eyes, lost in desire that pulsed deep inside, the ache that he created and relieved. “Nevada,” she cried hoarsely, “oh, God ... Nevada ...” He moved more quickly now, and she was enveloped by his spirit, caught in the wonder of the night. Her breath came in short bursts, perspiration beaded on her skin, her heart beat frantically and her mind spun out of control.

  “I love you.”

  Had she said it? Or he?

  Raindrops began to fall from the sky.

  “Nevada, oh, God ...” Her fingers delved deep into his shoulder muscles.

  He groaned; his hands held her fast and he quickened his pace again, driving upward ever faster. “That’s it, that’s it, oh, Shelby ...”

  A spasm of pure ecstasy shot through her. She jolted. Cried out. With a primeval groan, he let go. Spilled himself in her. Fire and ice, heat deep inside, her skin instantly chilled with the first drops of rain.

  She shuddered and fell against him, exhausted.

  His heartbeat thundered against her ear. He breathed as if he couldn’t draw another breath.

  The sky opened.

  Cold beads splashed against her bare back.

  Nevada stirred, his hands twisting in the wet strands of her hair. “You’re going to drown,” he teased, still gasping for breath.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Well, you will.”

  “Never.” She lay on top of him and laughed as rain dripped down her nose.

  Strong arms surrounded her and he kissed her temple. “Oh, yeah, Princess, believe me, you will. Big time.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Well enough,” he said, giving her a gentle slap on her behind. “I think we should grab our clothes and make a run for my truck. I parked it on the other side of the fence, half a mile away.”

  “Half a mile?”

  “Didn’t want anyone to catch us.”

  She laughed at his caution.

  “Come on. I’ll drive you wherever it is you want to go.”

  It sounded like heaven, but Shelby couldn’t risk it. She was already pushing it; even now her father might have called Lily’s place and realized his only daughter had lied to him. For all she knew, he could have phoned the police or, worse yet, his own private search party of ranch hands.

  Squinting against the shower, she cast a wary glance up at the dark sky and shivered. Oh, to leave with him now and be forever with Nevada Smith. “I’ve got to get Delilah back to the ranch and cooled down,” she said. “That might take some doing.”

  The rain increased, the shower intensifying to a downpour. “I’d feel better if you’d come with me,” he said. One persuasive hand trailed down her wet thigh.

  “I can’t. Really.” Forcing herself, she rolled off him, grabbed her damp panties and cutoffs and pulled both on. She felt different now, a woman at last as she searched the muddy grass for her boots.

  “Shelby—”

  “Really. I’ve got to go back to the ranch.”

  He didn’t respond, just helped her find her ancient cowboy boots. As she tugged them over her feet, he tossed her blouse and bra to her.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, though she was already soaked to th
e skin. He grabbed his jeans and stood. One hand surrounded the crook of her elbow. “I’d better come with you.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she argued but warmed at the thought that he wanted to be with her, to see her safely home—a gentleman’s heart in a cowboy’s skin. “I got here by myself, I can get home all right.”

  He wasn’t convinced. “It would be better—”

  “—if no one knew we were together,” she finished for him, ignoring his worried tone. She hooked her bra, then, shivering, stuffed her arms through the short sleeves of her cotton blouse. “Okay?”

  He hesitated, swore under his breath, then grabbed her and his lips covered hers in one last, desperate kiss. Rain peppered the ground, and a breeze chilled her bare skin. “Call me when you get home or wherever it is you’re staying,” he ordered, standing naked in the night, water dripping from his bare skin. “I want to know that you’re okay.”

  “I will,” she promised, touched that he cared.

  He yanked on his jeans.

  Fumbling with the buttons of her blouse, she blinked hard and told herself it was just the rain, she couldn’t be crying. Drops of rainwater ran down her nose and chin. Her fingers seemed suddenly thick and useless.

  “Let me.” Nevada, his fly not yet buttoned, his bare feet becoming muddy, brushed her hands away and carefully slipped each tiny pearl button through its hole. “There you go.”

  “ Thanks. ”

  “My pleasure.” His smile was a crooked slash of white in the dark night “You be careful, Shelby,” he said roughly, then took her face between his palms and kissed her hard.

  When he lifted his head, she nodded mutely, her heart nearly breaking at his tenderness.

  He helped her onto Delilah’s back and stood, feet planted apart, arms folded over his naked chest as she pulled on the sodden reins and clucked softly to the horse. Delilah needed no urging. Nose turned to the wind, she took off, scrambling up the hillside, eager to return to the stables.

  Casting a final glance over her shoulder, Shelby caught one last glimpse of Nevada’s dark form before he disappeared behind the veil of rain and his image was lost to her.