One Hundred Promises

by Kelly Collins

  “What are you doing?”

  “Prepping for our descent.” When he got back to the truck, he shed his shoes and shorts. He pointed to her shorts. “You want to wear them or lose them?”

  She shimmied out of the denim cut-offs. Her legs were long and toned. No doubt defined from years of walking hospital hallways. Her hips were rounded. Her waist was small. “So damn beautiful.” He loved the way she soaked up his compliments. Her blush told him she wasn’t used to flattery. That made it more fun.

  “Are we hiking down barefoot?” She tried to jump off the truck. “I should bring my first aid kit.”

  “We’re not hiking down.” He lifted her to the ground and held her hand. “We’re jumping.”

  She tensed for a second. “Are you crazy?” She rushed to the edge to watch the crash of the falls into the cove below. “That’s a hundred feet.”

  Wes laughed. “Not so brave after all, are you?”

  “I don’t have a death wish. Have you jumped from here?” She inched to the edge again and looked over the side. Cold mountain water rushed from the mountainside into the lake. A light mist hung in the air and coated her skin.

  “I do it all the time.” It was his favorite thing to do once the snow melted. He generally waited until June when the water warmed up, but he didn’t have until June. He had today. “You’ll be okay.”

  She backed away from the edge. “You promise?”

  “Yes. I promise.” Her eyes danced with the sparkle of excitement, but behind that he saw trust. He imagined that after her experiences, she didn’t give that easily. “Are you ready?”

  “Will you go first?” She inched toward the edge.

  “No way, lady. If I go first, you might chicken out, and I’d be by myself.”

  “I don’t know where to jump.”

  He walked back to the truck and secured her bag in the lockbox. “We’ll go together.”

  So she couldn’t change her mind, he grabbed her hand and raced to the edge. She followed him without a hint of fear. They sailed through the air. What looked like one hundred feet was more like sixty. She screamed all the way down. It wasn’t from fear but from excitement. Too bad he couldn’t get her to apply her risk-taking attitude to the rest of her life.

  They sliced through the frigid water together, sinking into the depths of the cove. They surfaced hand in hand with her spitting water. “Holy shit… holy shit…” she screamed as her body shook. “I didn’t expect it to be so cold.” She treaded water next to him, her lips turning blue. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to change your body temperature so quickly?”

  He hadn’t given it much thought. “Maybe we should go back to the truck.”

  She pushed away from him and swam to the edge. “No way. I’m ready to go again.” She found her sandals off to the side, slid them on, and started the climb up the rocks to the top. Right behind her Wes got a good look at Lydia’s perfect ass and the tattoo peeking above her swimsuit. He’d save that for later.

  By their fourth jump, the water no longer seemed cold. “Come here.” He swam under the falls and waited for her. She popped from below the surface.

  Behind the curtain of rushing water were rocks smoothed by hundreds of years of erosion. He lifted her to a large boulder and told her to wait. He disappeared and returned with their lunch.

  Wes climbed up next to her. He opened the plastic bag. “I’ve got a club sandwich or a tuna salad sandwich. Your choice.”

  She pointed to each sandwich in an eeny-meeny-miney-mo fashion before she said, “Let’s share.”

  “Perfect plan.” They sat together staring at the backside of the falls and ate.

  “This might be the best day of my life,” she said.

  His heart pounded. “Better than all the days before today?”

  Her smile reached her eyes. Light blue glitter sparkled from her irises.

  She took long gulps of water. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt carefree. Longer since I’ve felt happy. There’s only one thing that could make it better.”

  Wes looked around them. He had nothing else to offer. “What can I do to make it perfect?”

  She moved closer. “Kiss me.”

  “Gladly.” He pulled her into his lap and covered her mouth with his. It was a slow exploration. They weren’t in a hurry to get anywhere. They had all day or at least until their bodies felt the cold again. But right now, he was hot. She made him hot.

  Body to body, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue, they shared a perfect kiss. Wes had to agree; it had been a long time since he’d felt this carefree. A long time since he felt this happy. And the kiss…it was perfect.

  Like teenagers, they stayed behind the veil of water and made out until the cold reached their bones and the heat of their passion could no longer keep them warm.

  “Shall we take this home?” she asked.

  Wes nodded. “While I don’t want to stop kissing you, I promised to keep you safe. Getting hypothermia is a real possibility.”

  She pressed her lips to his for a final kiss. “Ooh, such a big word for a country boy,” she teased.

  They stood, and he swatted her ass. “Let’s go home and you can tell me about your tattoo.”

  “Fat chance,” she said before she dove into the water and disappeared.

  Wes gathered their garbage and followed her.

  She beat him up the mountain but he liked the view. Her wet suit bottom clung to her skin, the light color telling him what she wouldn’t. There was a smiley face tattooed to her right ass cheek. He knew that had to come with a story.

  Once in the truck he turned to her. “Best date of my life.”

  “That was a date?” She covered her shivering body with the towel.

  He turned up the heat. “I fed you and kissed you. I’d call that a date.”

  She peeked out from under the edge of the towel. “Best date ever.”

  “I owe you something else.” He put the truck into drive and headed for Sam’s Scoops. “You dropped your cone.”

  “It was a damn good cone too.”

  “A waste really.”

  “Kind of like the time you’d spend getting me ice cream when I’d rather go home for more kisses.”

  “That’s why you’re the doctor. Perfect diagnosis.” He turned the truck around and headed for home. Although it was his house, having Lydia there felt right.

  Hopefully Courtney had cleared out.

  His hopes were dashed when he pulled into the driveway and found her sitting on the porch swing.

  Lydia wrapped the towel around her body before she climbed out. There was no reason for her to be self-conscious in front of Courtney.

  “Why are you still here?” Wes asked.

  She pointed to her feet. “Your dog ate my shoes.”

  “He what?”

  She rose from the swing. Her eyes took in their wet clothes. “Did he try to drown you?”

  Lydia leaned into him and took his hand. He liked the show of ownership as if somehow she was claiming him. “No, we jumped off a cliff.”

  Courtney’s mouth twisted. “On purpose?”

  “Yes, and it was great,” Lydia said.

  “Umm, no thanks.” She lifted a bare foot. “What are you going to do about my shoes? They were Pradas.”

  “Grab your shit, Courtney. I’ll take you to your car, and I guess you’ll drive barefoot because you’re not staying here.”

  Lydia gripped the doorknob and turned it.

  “Wait,” Courtney cried. “What if he’s waiting behind the door?”

  Lydia swung it open to find Sarge sitting, with a half a shoe hanging from his mouth. “Did you miss me,” she sang. The dog dropped the shoe and tackled her, covering her face with kisses.

  “Why does he like her?”

  “Sarge is a good judge of character. Now get your stuff,” Wes said.

  Courtney inched around the lovefest happening on the porch and snatched her purse and partial shoe.

&nbs
p; “You owe me for this.” She held up the half-eaten loafer.

  “You want to tally things up? Don’t forget our conversation this morning.”

  Before Lydia had made it downstairs, he’d broken the news to Courtney that he’d no longer be supporting her habits, good or bad. He wrote her a final check for her next semester of college and told her it was his last donation to the Courtney-loves-Courtney campaign.

  Lydia hopped to her feet. “Will you be gone long?” The look she gave him made him wonder if she thought he wouldn’t come back.

  “Sweetheart, I’m not even stopping. Just rolling by slow enough so she can open the door and jump out.”

  Lydia laughed. “You should stop,” she teased. “She doesn’t have her Pradas.”

  Courtney huffed all the way to the car.

  Wes bent down for a kiss before he left. He expected it to be quick. Not the case when their tongues touched and their hands wrapped around each other’s bodies. They soaked in the warmth and passion each offered. It wasn’t until the sound of his honking horn that they separated.

  “Hold that thought,” he said as he gave her another peck on the lips.

  He climbed into the truck and slammed it into reverse.

  “She’s the one, isn’t she?” Courtney dug inside her purse and pulled out a lipstick.

  “I will not kiss and tell.”

  “I saw the kiss and I’ll tell you. You never kissed me like that.”

  She was right. Wes pulled up to her car and stopped. “Good luck, Courtney.”

  “Luck? I thought you didn’t believe in luck?”

  He thought about Lydia. Wasn’t it luck that brought her to his door? Her bad luck. His good.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for being such a good man.”

  She hopped out of his truck and tiptoed across the asphalt to her BMW. Silently he said to himself, “Thanks for being out of my life.”

  He turned the truck around and raced back to Lydia.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lydia’s skin tingled. It could have been from the cold or because her clothes were still damp. Most likely from the kiss though. When was the last time she’d experienced a toe-curling kiss like that?

  Closing her eyes, she conjured up a memory of Adam and his kisses. They’d never done it for her. His kisses were too wet. Too sloppy. Wes combined the perfect amount of heat, wet and pressure to make her heart dance. Something told her things would get hot—fast.

  Lake algae and sweat didn’t sound all that appealing. It wasn’t what she considered sexy by any means. With Sarge running after her, a Prada sole in his mouth, Lydia rushed to the shower. The temperature was reaching perfect when a light tap sounded on the door.

  “You decent?” Wes asked.

  She opened it still dressed in her bathing suit. “Yep. Still clothed.”

  “Darn.” He snapped his fingers and leaned against the door. “I was hoping for less. Fewer clothes, that is. More of everything else.”

  Steam from the shower seeped over the glass and filled the room with an eerie foggy mist. It wrapped around them like wisps of smoke before it escaped out the door.

  Her eyes traveled down his body. He wore nothing but swim trunks. His skin was tawny and tanned even though spring had just begun. Ripples of muscles begged for the touch of her fingers. Totally out of her league, Lydia wasn’t sure how to proceed. She didn’t have much dating experience. College had kept her busy. Medical school had been grueling. Residency had been…well, it had been all about Adam. What if Wes didn’t like her? What if she was awful in bed? She had to be, right? Adam had never wanted sex.

  Wes set his hands on her shoulders. “I see something happening behind those eyes of yours.”

  She rolled forward and put her forehead on the center of his chest. “I’m scared.”

  He moved one hand to her chin and lifted it. “I’ll never hurt you. Tell me why you’re afraid.”

  Could she be honest with him? Maybe the problem with Adam had been that they were never honest with each other. Wes deserved the truth. He’d taken her in and given her a place to live. He tempted her with his crooked smile, his carved-from-stone body, and his Pop-Tarts. Then again, how much honesty did a short-term fling deserve? “What if I’m bad in bed?”

  His hand squeezed her shoulder. “Who told you that?”

  “No one. I’m just thinking out loud. I mean, my last…he never wanted to…you know.”

  Wes moved forward, forcing her to step back. When they cleared the door, he closed it. “I want to, Lydia.” He pressed his hips forward. His want poked the soft part of her stomach. “I want you.”

  How long had it been since she’d felt wanted? Probably the last time she met Adam in the mop closet on the radiology floor. That was years ago.

  Her fingers brushed over his chest, leaving a trail of bumps across his skin. “I want you too.”

  “Perfect.” Wes lifted her to the granite countertop and stepped between her legs. “Just like you.” He kissed her with such tenderness. All thoughts about inadequacy disappeared when his lips touched hers. When his tongue dipped inside her mouth for a taste. When his hands removed the clothes from her body.

  He lowered her to the ground. She stood in front of him exposed and watched his face for any hint of disappointment. As his eyes traveled her body, so did the heat of knowing he wanted her. His gaze landed on the scar where she had her appendix removed.

  He dropped his pants and showed her his. She hadn’t noticed the faint white scar before, but who’d notice that when inches of pure male bobbed in front of her.

  “Hurt like a bitch, right?” His fingers skimmed the faded line from her surgery.

  Hers traced his. “The worst.”

  He looked behind her. “Care to share that shower?”

  She’d forgotten about the water. “Oh my God, I forgot about the shower.”

  “Take a shower with me, and I’ll make sure you forget about everything else.”

  Her knees turned to pudding, and she almost sank to the floor. If not for Wes wrapping his hand around her waist, she might have melted into the mosaic tiles.

  They stepped inside the large shower together. The jets beat against their bodies.

  “Did you get Courtney to her car okay?”

  He squirted body wash in his palm and ran it over her body. “No talk of Courtney. No mention of Adam. I won’t share your body or mind with anyone else while we’re naked. All I want to think about is you.”

  Slicked with soap, his hands roamed her body. One could argue that soap was sexy. Especially when slippery calloused hands moved across rock-hard nipples. When sudsy fingers pressed between her legs. Yep, soap was damn sexy.

  Wes’s touch was exploratory. He approached her body like an adventurer on an expedition. Curious hands, fingers, mouth, tongue worked their way over, under and inside her body. It was the inside she liked the most. When his finger pressed deep, she nearly came undone but then again he’d been touching her for ten minutes. Every cell in her body was on alert. Each nerve ending on fire. Wes was right, the only person she could think about was him.

  When her hand closed around his length and a sigh of pure pleasure left his lips, her confidence soared. She stroked him and ate up the sounds she could pull from him with a kiss. His pleasure gave her power.

  When the water went from steaming to tepid, Wes turned it off. He didn’t give her much time to be disappointed. He wasn’t finished with his exploration. He picked her up and took her to his bed wet.

  “You can always say no, but I hope you’ll say yes.”

  He moved her into the center of the big mattress and started at her toes. He licked the water from her body until he reached the apex of her thighs.

  He stopped and gave her a look—one that asked if he could continue.

  In answer to his silent question, Lydia’s thighs fell open.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned when the fla
t of his tongue ran across her aroused flesh. Her fingers curled into his hair. All inhibitions left her body. She had no idea where this moment would lead. Bullshit. In minutes it would lead to him pressing into her body and her screaming his name. She wanted that. Needed it.

  When he pulled the tight bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucked, she didn’t care if this was only tonight. It was a minute of pure bliss. Just as her body trembled, he eased away and took the feeling with him.

  “So close. I was so close.” She wanted to cry. Her body shook from the pent-up desire. She was like a lava spewing volcano on the edge of eruption.

  “I’ll get you there, but I don’t want to rush it.” He climbed up her body and went to work on her breasts. He went from left to right until she squirmed beneath him.

  “Stop torturing me.”

  “All right.” He rolled off her body onto his back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You said to stop torturing you. I stopped.”

  Lydia frowned. Not that he could see since they both were on their backs. She needed him on top of her. Inside her. If another hour of foreplay got her to the end goal, then she’d suffer through it. At that she laughed. “I’d like you to torture me more, please.”

  He chuckled, then reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a box of unopened condoms. He tore through the package and took out a strip. “This should do us for now.” A minute later his hard length strained against the latex.

  “For now?”

  He climbed between her legs. “You think once will be enough?” He shook his head. “Not for me. I’ve tasted you.”

  He pressed forward and pulled back. He entered her little by little. Lydia wasn’t used to big. Wes didn’t rush her but allowed her body to adjust to him. He kissed her breasts, suckled her nipples, and moved to her mouth, where he made love to her with kisses. When he was fully seated inside her, he sighed.

  “Never have I felt so damn good.” His breath was labored and a sheen of sweat broke above his brow. “Damn, Lydia.” He kissed her with such passion that her insides quivered. He wasn’t even moving, and she reached climax.