Dangerous Lover

by Lisa Marie Rice

  It was as if she’d kicked him into another gear. He jolted and made a noise deep in his chest. The thrusts were faster now, harder than before, and she was burning up from the inside with them. She could feel the steely muscles of his belly and thighs rippling as he worked her.

  She could barely breathe, the heat was so intense, boiling up from where they were joined to spread throughout her entire body. She lifted away from his kiss and opened her eyes briefly, then closed them again, little sparks of light moving against her inner eyelids. He had been watching her so intently through slitted eyes she couldn’t bear it, his gaze seemed to sear her soul.

  Jack bent his head to kiss her neck and nipped her lightly with his teeth. The tiny pinprick of pain set her off.

  “Oh!” she cried, holding on to him tightly as her vagina convulsed sharply. Somehow Jack found the rhythm of her contractions and prolonged the orgasm—forever it seemed. Just as they started dying down, his motions became rougher, less controlled, faster and, impossibly, he swelled even more inside her. With a huge groan, he locked her to him with a strong arm across her back, embedded as deeply as he could go and exploded.

  Caroline opened her eyes again to find his face contracted, almost in pain, teeth clenched tightly against the sounds that wanted to escape. Inside her, she could feel the jets of semen as he came in huge spurts. She’d never felt anything like that before—as if his climax were hers, too. The jets were so strong that she had another little climax on the wings of her first.

  He felt that, too. His jaw muscles clenched as he tried to hold still for her.

  Finally, it was over. Caroline’s head sank back down to Jack’s shoulder, and all her muscles loosened. His hands loosened their hold on her and began caressing again, lightly. More to relax than to arouse.

  Arousal was impossible anyway. There was nothing left in her to excite, all her cells had turned into little puddles of protoplasm.

  Slowly, Jack withdrew from her. Amazingly, he was still semierect, though Caroline had no idea where he could go with it. He could forget about her. She was already starting that long, luscious free fall back into sleep.

  “Caroline? Honey?”

  “Mmmmff.” Caroline had no desire to talk or do anything other than lie bonelessly on him, feeling his hand moving gently through her hair. She might never get out of bed again.

  “It snowed all night. I need to shovel the snow on your drive and the paving; otherwise, it’ll turn to ice.”

  “No,” she mumbled. He wanted to get out of bed? Caroline held him more tightly. “Later.”

  “Believe me, honey, I’d rather stay in bed with you, but it needs to be done.” She felt him kiss her hair and move out of her grasp. He threw the covers back just long enough to get out of bed, then covered her back up immediately.

  The instant Jack left the bed, it turned cold under the covers. For the first time, Caroline was aware of how wet her groin was with her juices and his. Jack tucked the comforter around her shoulders, his hand lingering for a moment, then she heard him go into the bathroom.

  He came out and a few moments later, the door closed quietly behind him. He must have dressed though she hadn’t heard. He was the quietest man she’d ever known.

  Caroline wanted to watch him dress, she wanted to see him naked in the daylight, but her eyes simply wouldn’t open. Her breathing slowed, and she drifted into sleep as if into the arms of a beloved friend.

  When she woke again, the quality of the light outside the window had changed. Even through the overcast she could tell it wasn’t early-morning light anymore. Caroline lay in bed, thoroughly relaxed. The extra little nap had done her good, and she felt refreshed, almost…happy.

  Let’s not go overboard, she thought wryly. Some would even say she’d made a huge mistake and was headed for trouble. Sleeping with your boarder was not a good idea on so many levels it wasn’t funny. When the affair ended, it was possible that he’d look for quarters somewhere else, and she’d have lost a very good boarder in exchange for some sex. Very good sex, it was true, but still.

  Something impinged at the edge of consciousness, and suddenly she was aware of a regular noise that had been in the background a long time, coming from outside. Even while she’d napped there’d been the noise, she realized.

  What was it? A regular, scraping noise. Caroline threw back the covers and dived for her dressing gown hanging from a hook on the bathroom door, hopping barefoot gingerly to her slippers. It was cold!

  Pulling on the dressing gown, she made for the window but stopped in her tracks when she passed the mirror on the chest of drawers.

  Caroline hardly recognized herself. Her hair was a wild reddish mass around her face, flying in every direction. She looked rumpled and unkempt and…incredibly satisfied. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth looked slightly swollen from Jack’s endless kisses. There was a tiny mark on her throat that could only be—a hickey. My God, she hadn’t had one of those since high school. She was sure Jack hadn’t meant to give her one, but she distinctly remembered him sucking at her skin while he was coming.

  The memory of that moment, of feeling him swell inside her, then explode, brought a bright flush to her face and neck and had her clenching her thighs. She could still feel him inside her. Seeing her face in the mirror, Caroline thought she looked like a woman still making love.

  She would have been appalled if it weren’t for the fact that it had been so long since she’d seen her own face as anything but pale and pinched with worry. Now all she needed was a flower behind her ear, and she could have been a carefree tourist on vacation in Hawaii with her lover.

  The swishing sound continued. Curious, Caroline glanced outside the window and saw him, methodically shoveling snow and doing a superb job of it. Somehow he’d found where she kept the shovel in the garage and had cleared a path almost to the street. It was a long path and the snow was deep. He must have shifted several tons of snow.

  He’d not only cleared the walkway to the street, but he’d also cleared the driveway and found the bag of rock salt in the garage and strewn it over the paving stones so it wouldn’t ice over.

  It would have taken Randy, Jenna’s nephew, five hours to do that job half as well, and it would have cost her $30.

  As if there was an invisible thread connecting them, he suddenly stopped and looked up. Meeting his dark gaze was like a punch to the stomach.

  She raised a hand in greeting.

  He deserved more than that. He’d done a hard and disagreeable task for her without her even asking. Caroline threw up the window sash and stuck her head out into the freezing air.

  “Thank you! Come in now, and I’ll fix you a warm breakfast, you must be freezing!” Her breath formed a cloud around her.

  He only had that light denim jacket on, no match for the bitter cold. He didn’t even have gloves! Caroline made a mental note to buy him warm winter gloves as a thank-you for shoveling the snow. She’d love to buy him a jacket, but her budget wouldn’t stretch that far, and he probably wouldn’t accept it. He seemed like a proud man who wouldn’t like to be reminded that he couldn’t afford a winter wardrobe. He might accept gloves, though.

  Jack waved his hand at her to get back. “Close that window! Don’t catch cold! I’ll be finished in a little while.”

  He waited until she pushed the sash down, then bent to his task again. Caroline watched through the pane for a moment, admiring his economy of movement. He seemed to apply exactly the right effort for the job, movements regular and smooth.

  Suddenly, she flashed on the memory of another moment when his movements were regular and smooth—inside her, pumping with the regularity of a machine. The memory sent a heat wave through her so intense her skin tingled, and she knew she was blushing furiously.

  This was something Caroline was simply going to have to control. The man was no fool. He was observant and perceptive. Her skin was like a beacon signaling what she was thinking and feeling. She was remembering the sex, and it was
out of her control. Amazing. Normally, Caroline had massive amounts of self-control and was always very cool and in command, the complete mistress of herself with men.

  Jack, apparently, was the exception.

  Well, she was going to have to learn fast how to deal with her wayward thoughts because Jack was going to be coming in very soon, and she had to be able to deal with him without turning red every other second.

  Half an hour later, Caroline had showered quickly and cleaned up after last night’s dinner.

  In the shower, she had resolutely thought of her bank account, the boiler, and the last payment for Toby’s funeral, which was due and would wipe her out financially for a couple of months. All things guaranteed to depress her spirits.

  She needed that, because when she started washing herself, she was constantly reminded of how she’d spent the night. Washing herself between the legs had required particularly disheartening thoughts because before she soaped up, she could smell Jack and sex in the steamy cabinet and could still feel him between her legs, where she was slightly sore.

  So while she dressed, went downstairs and proceeded to clean up, she was giving herself little pep talks about how she could remain cool when Jack walked back in. She could, she definitely could, why—

  “Hello.”

  Oh God, all it took was one word in that deep voice, and her stomach muscles clenched and every ounce of blood that wasn’t pooling between her thighs was rushing to her face. He’d come in so quietly she hadn’t even heard him, which was a miracle considering that the garage door’s hinges needed oiling.

  “Hi.” Caroline winced inwardly. Her voice sounded strangled, and her face could probably substitute for a stoplight.

  Jack was standing very still, just inside the door, the accumulated snow on his clothes starting to melt and drip onto the floor. They stared at each other, Caroline feeling flushed and awkward.

  What was this? What kind of morning after were they having? A thank-you-for-the-bang-ma’am-and-I’ll-be-moseyingon-up-to-my-room-after-breakfast kind of morning? Was it a one-night stand, what they’d had? Were they starting a…a relationship, and how awkward would that be with a boarder?

  It was only when Caroline saw that his hands were almost blue from the cold that she flushed even more deeply, only this time with shame.

  Manners and concern for others had been drummed into her from childhood, and here she was, dithering about how she should react to Jack, while he waited patiently, hungry and tired. He must be freezing, he hadn’t had breakfast yet, he’d done her an enormous favor, and she was obsessed with what to call what they were doing

  Caroline held out a hand. “Let me take your jacket, it’s dripping. You must be freezing! Go on up and take a shower and when you come down, I’ll have a nice hot breakfast waiting for you.”

  He walked up to her, calmly, so close she started to take an instinctive step back before she stopped herself.

  He looked down at her, smiling slightly. He’d noticed her instinctive movement. Damn the man, he noticed everything.

  “Sounds great. I’ll look forward to that, but first—” He bent down and covered her mouth with his. He didn’t touch her anywhere but with his mouth, a source of infinite pleasure and warmth. Cold was coming off him and his clothes in waves, but he seemed to be able to infuse warmth in her through his mouth alone. His tongue stroked hers lazily, as if he had all the time in the world.

  Kisses have a development, just like novels or movies. They usually start out slow and rise to a crescendo, usually becoming harder, more penetrating, involving the body and not just the mouth. In Caroline’s experience, kisses led to sex or at least the promise of sex.

  This was the first kiss she’d ever had that didn’t seem to be going anywhere. It just sort of meandered pleasantly all on its own. His tongue and lips plucked at hers, over and over, as if he’d be perfectly content to stay there all day, kissing her gently, touching her only with his mouth. It was a summer’s day by the riverbanks kind of kiss, completely different from the intense sex of last night.

  It was easy to drift with a kiss like that, lightly skimming the waves of consciousness. Caroline stopped being conscious of breathing or of standing slightly on the balls of her feet to reach his mouth.

  It was Caroline who bumped it up to the next level, or at least tried to. She wanted a deeper taste of him and rose even higher on her feet, clutching his jacket. The shock of encountering patches of ice on his jacket brought her back to reality with a thump. She lowered herself back on her heels and stepped back. They looked at each other. He had a slight flush along his high cheekbones, and his mouth was wet.

  Caroline didn’t dare look down.

  Dazed, she said, “You, um, need to get out of that jacket right now.”

  “Here.” Jack unzipped the denim jacket and handed it to her. He had a faint smile on his face, or at least the grooves in his cheeks were deeper than usual. “And at this point, I’m really looking forward to that breakfast.”

  She stood, holding the jacket that felt like a block of ice.

  “Caroline?”

  She started. “Oh! Um, go on up, now. Take your shower.” She made shooing movements with her hand.

  Jack inclined his head gravely, turned around, and took the stairs three at a time.

  Caroline stood and watched him go up. She shouldn’t. She knew that. It had been bad enough standing staring like a dummy when he’d smiled. Sort of smiled. When he lost that grim look he became incredibly attractive. Her heart had definitely thumped.

  Note to self, she thought. Never make Jack Prescott laugh. She’d have a heart attack.

  Even just watching him go up the stairs—God!

  Desperately looking for something to distract her from thoughts of the wonderful view as he’d gone up the stairs, she turned the radio on, thinking to catch the news. The news was usually pretty much a downer. Today, though, all she could catch was static, so she had to concentrate really really hard on cooking breakfast.

  By the time Jack came back down again, Caroline had herself in hand. She’d given herself a little pep talk—reminding herself what would happen to her bank account if he decided to leave after the first month because he couldn’t deal with a slack-jawed, drooling landlady had helped a lot.

  Caroline had even taken three minutes to breathe deeply from her diaphragm, repeating ommmm under her breath, just like her yoga teacher had taught her. So she was cool, calm and collected when Jack made his appearance in the doorway.

  Except for the fact that the man messed massively with her head, Caroline was so incredibly grateful for the company. Without Jack, she knew how she’d have spent her day. Going over accounts, trying to add up the unaddupable and come out with a little profit at the end. An exercise in futility. Maybe doing the laundry. Finishing the new Janet Evanovich. Skipping lunch. Early dinner on a tray, watching TV.

  In bed before nine. A bad night’s sleep, full of ghosts and nightmares. Waking up to a long, lonely day.

  Instead, she had company. Not just any company, either. No, she had an incredibly attractive man who said interesting things, when she could get him to talk. And when she couldn’t…well, there was always the eye-candy aspect.

  Jack sat down, and Caroline started delivering food to the table, on an industrial level. Toasted homemade bread with butter and homemade orange marmalade and blackcurrant jelly. Scones. Buckwheat pancakes, a fluffy cheese omelet, bacon, whole wheat biscuits, link sausage, fruit salad.

  Jack sat, hands in lap.

  “Please,” Caroline said. “Dig in.”

  “Not until you come sit down and eat with me.”

  She sat and watched, pleased, as he piled food on his plate, an amazing amount, but then he was a big man who’d just done a full morning’s work. “You like your coffee black, right?” At his nod, she poured the coffee, happy that she’d splurged on French roast.

  “This is great. How come you’re not eating?” Jack frowned.

&nbs
p; “I’m eating,” Caroline protested. “Just not…as much as you.” Caroline nibbled on her toast, watching him down his fourth slice.

  It gave her such pleasure watching him. She had out a brilliant red cotton tablecloth and her red-and-white-porcelain breakfast set. The rich smell of the coffee rose to her nostrils, melding with the smells of the toast and jam and omelet and bacon and sausage. It looked like Christmas. It smelled like Christmas. It was Christmas.

  Caroline sipped her coffee, smiling. “If it’s okay with you, I thought we’d have a big breakfast, then have our Christmas meal around six.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Jack set her delicate china cup down in its saucer without a sound and took her hand. He lifted it to his mouth, brushing his lips across the back. Caroline could feel the softness of his lips and the slight rasp of his unshaved beard. Jack’s eyes held hers. “I have a few ideas about what we can do in the meantime.”

  Her heart gave a huge lurch in her chest. He wasn’t grinning suggestively, but there could be no doubt what he meant. The heat in his eyes could have melted steel. What she saw there took her breath away.

  This was so far off her radar, sitting here on Christmas morning, her hand in the hand of the sexiest man she’d ever seen, both of them thinking of the night before. Both of them thinking about sex. Both of them thinking that soon, they’d be back in bed.

  He’d felt the little jolt in her hand as he’d said the words. Her hand trembled slightly in his. She couldn’t think of a word to say. The silence of the house enveloped them as they watched each other.

  The silence. The silence of the house. The house was silent. Completely, utterly still.

  “Oh, God no!” Caroline jumped up, all pleasurable thoughts of lovemaking and celebrating Christmas gone, vanished from her head as if they’d never lodged there.

  She knew exactly what that silence meant. The heating system gave off a constant low hum, a background noise that became white noise, something you forgot instantly, but it was always there. The utter silence in the house could only mean one thing—the boiler had died.