Mariah (MARIAH and SHANE Series Book 1)

by Carol Devine

  But the problem with soft kisses was the fact that they awakened nerve endings that zapped through every erogenous zone in her body. Because the kiss was tentative, it left her feeling starved, like she hadn't eaten for days. Her formidable pride stepped into high gear, but she still had a rough time fighting her sense of sensual starvation. It was like setting a birthday cake in front of a life-long prisoner. Could she give herself permission to feel like a normal human being again?

  She ended the kiss. The warmth of his breath eddied around her mouth and he kissed her back, just as softly but with finesse. The man knew what he was doing. His lips touched hers minutely, making an imprint that would last far longer than the actual kiss.

  "Am I so bad?" he asked against her lips.

  She flattened her hands against his chest, intent on pushing him back. "Yes, you're bad. Very bad."

  To prove how bad, she kissed him again, this time with force, proving she knew exactly what she was doing and could walk away at any time. She opened her mouth and he opened his, and suddenly the sensuality of this kiss went on and on, deep-tongued and mind-sweeping, staggering her, holding her in place.

  She grabbed his shirt to keep from falling and refused to let go because she needed an anchor in this storm of awakening nerves and compromised senses. She turned into a woman who wanted him badly enough to switch places with him. She pushed him against the alley wall and he became the one trapped by the brick, held in place by a devastating French kiss that forced the length of her entire body to push insistently against the entire length of his.

  Her aggression might have served its purpose and scared him away, if she was taller than him, and heavy and muscular, hard-bodied in the same exact places he was. But her erogenous zones betrayed her. Smashed against his chest, her nipples turned hard but her breasts did the opposite, becoming more pliable. He wedged a hand in, cupping one breast and massaging it, sending such a shot of lightning through her gut, her vagina pulsed with sparks.

  Unless she did something drastic, she was going to lose what was left of her logical brain. That fear made her inhale sharply, but Shane took it as an invitation to explore more, not less. Both hands massaged her breasts, then pulled her blouse out and delved underneath, encountering bare skin, discovering her shape with broad hands.

  She fought to ignore the shivery, shimmery feeling by grinding her pelvis into him. But what she got for her trouble was the frightening knowledge that his response, bulging behind his fly, exactly fit the space between her legs that ached for the most contact. Even through layers if fabric, feeling his urgency was enough to inspire the beginnings of her own orgasm. Floored, she froze long enough to prevent it but that was like a finger in the dike holding back a rising tide. It would only work for so long.

  Looking for painful distractions, she plunged her tongue deeper in his mouth and pulled at the hair at the nape of his neck. She stood on one leg, hooking the other around his hip, welcoming thrust after thrust, compounded by kissing so carnal, she was certain she'd lose consciousness. Then it was his turn to inhale sharply.

  "Jesus, woman." He reared back enough to look at her through sapphire eyes that gleamed.

  "Jesus is right." Embarrassed to confess even that much, she dragged in great lungfuls of air; aware he was doing the same thing, and appeared just as affected.

  "Come on," he said. "We're not doing this here." Clasping her hand, he tugged her out of the alley onto the sidewalk.

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "My place."

  Dizzy, Mariah echoed him breathlessly. "Your place?"

  Shane halted, keeping hold of her hand. "Damn. I've got a buyer friend in town who's staying at my house until Monday."

  "Maybe we should go to my place." It was the least romantic place she could think of.

  "On a mattress inside a cabinet in a room that doubles as your workplace?"

  "How did you know?"

  "You aren't renting anywhere. You're not sleeping in your SUV. I checked."

  "The SUV has fold down seats in the back."

  "You want to do this in your SUV? If we were teenagers, maybe…"

  "Yeah, you're right. Terrible idea." Terrible because every time she got in the driver's seat, she'd be reminded of what he'd convinced her to do with him there.

  "The Frontier Hotel?" he asked.

  "Everyone who works there knows us."

  "So?

  "They'll know what we're doing."

  "You're going shy on me now?"

  "I'm through being the talk of the town. You go first. Call me with the room number and I'll meet you there."

  "No way. You're liable to take off on me and we'll have to start over again." He shepherded her down the street. "I'm taking you home and kicking my friend out."

  "You can't kick out your friend if he's a buyer," she said, striving for reason. Her head was clearing, thank heavens.

  "I'm not letting you go."

  She dragged her feet. "Maybe there's a reason events are conspiring against us."

  He halted, incredulous. "Is this the last card you're gonna play? Something from God Almighty?"

  "Yes!" She threw out her arms in a gesture of futility. "I'm a screwed up mess. Why can't you see that?"

  "You think you have a corner on messes? You're beautiful and yeah, maybe a little nuts, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm nuts, too. Sometimes I do stupid things like spur my horse into creeks at top speed. You and I making love isn't going to be one of those things, though. The way I see it, you have two choices, Mariah. Would you rather my buyer know we're sleeping together or would you rather the town knew?"

  She blew out a cloud of hot air like a released, unknotted balloon. "Put him up in the hotel. But I don't want you telling him anything more than you need your space."

  "That I can do." Shane pulled out his phone and called.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, Mariah woke up naked in Shane's bed. She should have been cold but wasn't because Shane was naked, too, and they were tangled up together along with the top and bottom sheets, which never did make it onto the bed the previous night because, in the madness of hedonistic pleasures, changing the linens took a backseat to using a king-sized bed in every way possible.

  Maybe that was why her knees felt sore, or why she felt a little bruised in some places, or why she didn't feel like moving a muscle despite her various discomforts.

  Or maybe it was his sheer, radiating heat that did her in. The man had the metabolism of one of his horses. Spooning with him was the most covering she would ever need in this life.

  It was awful to realize she'd fallen for someone who made her feel comforted, like she could depend on him to be there through thick and thin, good and bad. What an invitation to disaster. Depending on her friends and colleagues for support had cost her her career. No, she needed to think of what had happened with him as a hookup of the simplest order. Which meant she needed to get moving and get out of his bed. But boy, oh, boy, that was a difficult thing to do.

  She focused on the room, his bedroom, pushing aside the vision of them both lying side by side, entwined. She noticed dawn filtering through blue curtains, a blue very much like his eyes. She catalogued the open box of condoms spilled out on the nightstand, and their clothes strewn across the carpet, which only served to make her remember how quickly they had pulled them off. Then he insisted that they must have clean sheets, insisted to the point of her being struck silly by the sight of this naked and fully aroused man, trying to make his bed in preparation for tearing it apart. What desperately aroused woman wouldn't take exception to such behavior?

  So, naturally, she scurried to the opposite side of the bed as though planning to cooperate and took her share of the sheets. Playing tug of war was a test of strength he couldn't resist. Even with all her theatrical trying, Shane was never going to let her win. He actually got her laughing about losing, something she rarely was inclined to do, especially in front of another human being. But who
could resist this hairy beast of a man, who was so much bigger and so much stronger and oh-so-willing to let her have her way with him?

  The bed never did get made.

  Mariah couldn't get him out of her head. The heavy sensation of his arm draped over her waist, or the rough feel of hairy legs stacked behind hers stirred her central nervous system in wholly erotic ways. But what truly bothered her was the constant wandering going on inside her brain. It used to be disciplined. It used to be easy to push down useless longings. She had her work, work that mattered, that could change lives for the better. She'd put aside childish things. Even fly fishing had a serious purpose, providing food, nourishment of the most basic kind. She couldn't possibly expect more out of her smashed-up life, much less rampage against the heavens, demanding a do-over.

  Since it was well past time to rise from the dead, she tried to slide out from under his arm without waking him.

  "Not so fast," he murmured, snuggling her closer. Since he was behind her and she couldn't see his face, she hoped that, if he was as sleepy as he sounded, she could make a quick getaway.

  "I have to get going."

  "No, you don't."

  "Yes, I do. I have to get to work."

  "It's dawn."

  "I have some phone calls to make to the East Coast. If it's around six in the morning here, then it's around eight there, so the sooner I get out of here, the better."

  "No one on the East Coast answers the phone before nine. You have plenty of time."

  "Shane, this is my livelihood we're talking about. The early bird gets the worm."

  "I wouldn't mention worms this early in the morning if I were you." His arm tightened around her bringing her rear end in full contact with his morning erection.

  Mariah pushed at his arm, which turned out to be a useless gesture. She made her voice sound especially offended. "Why do men wake up ready for sex?"

  "It's natural."

  "It's overkill."

  "It's who we are."

  "Yes, I'm glad you brought the subject up because clearly..." she pushed harder at his relaxed yet unyielding arm, "you and I need to have a little talk."

  "No, please, not the talk."

  "We need to set some parameters here."

  He nuzzled the nape of her neck, voice husky with sleep. "I'm a little out of it right now. What you're saying is like a buzzing in my ear."

  "Here's the thing. Number one rule. I come and go as I please. This is about sex, nothing more. Don't expect me to participate in anything that might seem romancy or couple-y. And I won't sleep over. Last night was an anomaly."

  "Yeah, you will sleep over, cause you're moving in."

  She didn't even try to make her voice go higher. It just did. "Hold it right there, buster. What did I say?"

  "You said you want sex. Moving in makes it available morning, noon and night."

  "I have a vibrator for that."

  "As much as you're hoping to crush my male ego, it ain't gonna happen. I know how to play with vibrators, too. Living here will be utopia for you. You'll have your own set of drawers to store all your sex toys in. I've got a second sink in my bathroom and there's a second medicine cabinet for a pretty big assortment of strawberry tasting massage oils."

  "You're making me ill. Please do not mention food in the same breath as massage oil."

  "Yeah, I never developed a taste for them, either, but my point is, I want to have sex with you, too. So I'm glad we're on the same page about wanting to do it all the time, maybe not right this minute because of the important talk we're having here, but eventually it's going to happen again and you might as well get used to the idea."

  He crowded her closer, snuggling his throbbing erection between her legs while making her wet in the process. She couldn't believe how quickly her body responded or how eagerly she wished him to thrust his way in. She considered the idea of saying no, but blood was rushing from her brain to her nether regions, sparking a pulsating response that echoed the pounding of her heart. If she could feel it thumping like a drumbeat to action, he certainly could.

  Cursing her traitorous body, she nevertheless gave in to it, because when it came to Shane, resistance was futile. She couldn't even remember what they'd been talking about.

  "You know what, Shane?"

  "What?"

  "I'm ready."

  "Ready for what?"

  She wiggled her hips. "You."

  His nuzzling moved to her shoulder. "Can't be. I read the manual. Foreplay first."

  "Enough foreplay. Dip your finger in and see for yourself."

  He moved his hand and sneaked it between her legs, doing the requisite exploring.

  "Hot damn," he said.

  "Told you."

  He kept exploring. "You're so silky."

  "You're so hard and... protruding."

  "You're so funny and... steamy."

  "I want you from behind. All you have to do is…

  "This?"

  She caught her breath. "Yes."

  He pinned her tightly to better move against her.

  "This?"

  "Oh, yes."

  "How about this?"

  "God, yes."

  Every thrust he made stepped her toward what promised to be a huge climax. She didn't care about the sweat that made her skin slippery between them. All she wanted was an explosive release, his then hers or hers then his, it didn't matter. That it happened at the same time made it all the sweeter. And all the more frightening.

  "Don't leave me," she rasped.

  "I won't," he said. "I can't."

  "Me, neither." It made no sense but she said it to herself again anyway, whispering it over and over. Me neither me neither me neither me neither…

  CHAPTER seven

  Mariah transferred the last of her foodstuffs into the kitchen cabinet Shane had designated as her own. Three days in, and he was still trying to talk her into expanding the limits on their new living arrangement. Unfortunately, the nights were so satisfyingly wonderful, she was having problems saying no to all the fringe benefits that went along with it.

  Right now, he was simply standing next to her, keeping her from concentrating on arranging her soup cans and cereal boxes in nice, even rows. Since it was an impossible task with him right there, she closed the cabinet, and gave him her most teasing smile. She was going to make it as hard for him to concentrate on the ordinary details of life as he was making it for her.

  "What were you saying?" she asked, gazing rather pointedly at his mouth.

  He aimed a matching smile down at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking. The only problem was, he kept talking about this and making plans about that. And Shane, god bless him, was rather good at using his mouth against her whether it be smiling, kissing or going down on her most private parts.

  "Business before pleasure, remember?" he said. "We still have a few details to settle about this little arrangement of ours."

  Even though she was wearing one of her tailored skirts from work, she hitched it high, boosted herself up onto the kitchen counter and balanced on the edge, needing to be at his height to neutralize at least one of his physical advantages. "I should let you know upfront. I'm not wild about celebrating holidays."

  "Even Thanksgiving? It's three weeks away."

  "I've always worked that week and the last two weeks of the year. No real family to speak of, no ties. And…" she walked her fingers up his chest. "It made me very popular among my fellow employees."

  "What about parties? I like to throw a Christmas party for my crew every year."

  "I think you know how I feel about parties. I told you before Ana's, unless there is something in it for me, I don't see the point. And since it's doubtful your crew needs my services, I fail to see why you would even want me there."

  "Who knows? You might enjoy yourself. It's a catered dinner I put on for the hands and their significant others. The Garcia's will be here, including Ana's daughters and her parents. We exchange cheap present
s, the purpose being to have some fun together rather than focus non-stop on work. What are you going to do while we're having the time of our lives? Put your jammies on and hide in bed?"

  She focused on the buttons on his shirt, hoping to forestall further argument by undoing them. "Why not? I'm not into playing party hostess."

  He started unbuttoning her blouse as well, exposing her low-cut bra, letting his fingers wander. "I'm the host. You're my date for the evening. You can pretend you live somewhere else. Park your SUV out on the street like every other guest, I don't care. Just be ready to have a good time."

  She slithered her arms underneath his open shirt and skimmed her fingers up his well-muscled back. "I think people have already noticed my SUV has spent considerable time parked in your garage."

  He unhooked her bra, soothing the skin underneath. "My point exactly. Everybody at the party will want to know where you are. Ana might even be inclined to go upstairs while you're wearing your pajamas. By the way, do you have any pajamas? I swear I would have noticed if you'd worn something to bed by now."

  She wiggled around the confinement of her skirt and drew him in, widening her thighs. His blunt fingers traced her spine, playing it like an clarinet, up and down, up and down. It felt so inspiring, she did the same to him. "How formal is this thing?" she managed to ask.

  His voice was thickening, too. "It's Christmas," he said, nipping her earlobe. "Ana likes to dress accordingly. The hands take their cues from her. Unless you want to stock up on some fancy holiday duds, I'd wear one of those little black dresses you like so much."

  He slid his hands to where her bottom rested on the counter and lifted her up.

  "Legs, Mariah. It doesn't take much to make this man happy. Just show plenty of leg."

  She wreathed her arms around his neck, extended her legs out and scooted forward, wrapping them around his waist. "How about a little leg action right now?"