Another Chance
Page 17
His breath hitched. He shackled her wrists with his hands and held her arms at her sides. His mouth came down hard on hers, his tongue slaked hers until she could barely catch her breath.
"I need to see you," he rasped when he came up for air.
As a rule Jillian didn't find it practical to wear a corset, and luckily, women in the west were the same. Still, when the occasion deemed it, she laced herself into one. Tonight had been such a night. And once the rest of her clothing was tossed aside and she stood before Wade in her corset and chemise, her breasts straining in their confinement, and his heavy-lidded gaze drawn to the skin that spilled over, she was especially glad she'd worn one.
Heart pounding, Jillian held her breath as his hands reached for her. Hook by hook he moved until the garment fell open and her breasts sprang forth. His breath whooshed over her neck and her nipples puckered against her thin chemise. He cupped her through the fabric, circled and squeezed. The cotton rubbed at her nipples, creating a sweet ache in her breasts.
His eyes found hers, held. Everything fell away but the man before her. The commotion at the dance, the regret, the hopelessness of ever being accepted in Cedar Springs. It all slipped away like a dissipating fog until there was only this man, this beautiful man, before her.
He captured her mouth again, and she rose to her toes to give him everything. To take everything in return. His hands moved at her hips and it wasn't until she felt the whisper of air at her waist that she realized he'd lifted her chemise.
Her heart skipped, then thudded. She'd never done anything like this before. Clint had never done more than kiss her and hold her hand. In truth, she hadn't minded. She realized now as her chemise rolled over her waist that she'd never wanted him to. No, it went beyond that. She'd never needed him to.
It was different with Wade. In that moment it was as though her very soul needed him in order to survive.
He drew the kiss out, licking and tasting as his hands, full of her chemise, stayed just below her breasts.
He was going as slowly as he could but his hands shook with the effort. Her response was fire in his blood and it licked at him. He felt as though he were burning from the inside out. He throbbed for her and his penis beaded with moisture.
He rubbed against her, nearly dying when her softness enveloped him. He needed her naked. Ending the kiss, he pulled her chemise over her head until she stood before him wearing only her bloomers. Since that wasn't nearly good enough, he helped her step out of those. It was tempting to leave her in her stockings as she was a picture standing there wearing only those, but he knew he wanted to feel every inch of her. Nothing would do but to have her completely naked, all for him.
Now, finally naked, he waited no more. Swooping down, he claimed a breast with his mouth.
Jillian gasped. The feel of his wet mouth on her flesh hit her like lightning. Her body jolted. His hands clamped on her, held her as his tongue laved her breast. She grasped his head, held on lest she melt right then and there.
His mouth was everywhere. It opened over her throat, licked its way to her ear. It feasted on her own until every part of her trembled, yearned. A burning heat rose within her and the room was suddenly too hot, the air too thick to breathe.
His thumbs brushed her nipples, one then the other until they hardened into over-sensitized peaks. When she didn't think she could take the assault of sensations, he dipped his head, enfolded the hard nub in the heat of his mouth and fondled it with his tongue.
Her back arched. Someone moaned.
"Wade," she pleaded because her legs were turning to water and she couldn't stand.
He scooped her up, placed her on the bed and followed her down. Soft breasts met hard planes. His chest hair tickled her, teased her nipples and kept them hard. It was glorious. But it didn't do anything to lessen the need building lower. She was damp and achy, restless. Like a cat, she moved against him.
Wade couldn't remember ever being this hard, this desperate. He knew he should wait, should draw out her passion, but Jillian was making it impossible. When she ground against him, the last of his control snapped.
He captured her mouth, slipped a hand between them and claimed a breast. Her answering groan drove him, increased his pace. He took the kiss deeper, ravishing her mouth while his hand stroked her.
She was more than pretty; she was stunning. Long auburn hair fanned the pillow, her full, aroused breasts showed the marks of his stubble on her sensitive skin. His pride relished the thought that he'd left his mark, even temporarily, on her. He looked lower and his loins thickened.
He shucked the rest of his clothes and finally, finally, they were both naked.
Jillian knew what mating was, knew what it entailed physically. But she'd never realized just how much the heart became involved. It was special being this way with a man. Her skin hummed as his hands moved over her body but it was more, so much more than that. The kisses he left on her temple, the whispers he spoke in her ear. The heat, the power of his body as he positioned himself over her, the way his heart beat against hers. It was all embracing, all part of a beautiful whole.
And so when his hand moved between her legs, when he played with her as though she were the rarest of instruments, she thought nothing of letting him, of glorying in the way her body responded to him. His fingers stroked, then delved into her. Her legs fell open.
"Jillian," he moaned and she felt the hard length of him press against her leg. "I have to have you."
He shifted and she felt him at her center. A flash of uncertainty, like lightning across an inky sky, flew through her mind and she had a moment of panic. Once she gave herself to him there was no going back, no pretending she was innocent.
"I won't hurt you," he whispered as he kissed her once more. "I just don't want you to regret anything."
What was there to regret? she thought as her heart filled to bursting. She knew what she wanted. Wade. Only Wade. The man who cared for her despite her being a doctor. Smiling, she cupped his face.
"I want to be with you."
With a searing kiss that stole her breath, he plunged into her. Her body froze at the intrusion, as her muscles stretched to accommodate. Sensing it, Wade stilled, eased the kiss until it was light as a breeze, soft as silk. As her body began to surrender, he began to stroke, long and leisurely. She raised her hips, he went deeper and the sensations made her gasp, made her reach for them again and again.
Flesh slapped against flesh and Jillian wrapped her arms tightly as a storm built within her. She reached higher. For what, she didn't know but her body seemed to as it matched Wade thrust for thrust.
Wade couldn't stop. He was pretty sure he wasn't hurting her since he could feel her nails on his back, could hear her moans in his ear. He pumped his hips, driving harder and harder. He claimed her mouth, plucked her nipples. She was tight, so tight. And wet and hot and-
"Wade!"
She clamped around him like a fist, sucked the breath from his lungs as liquid fire poured over him. Feeling his own release coming, Wade buried his face in her neck, filled his hand with her breast and shot to heaven right alongside her.
SIXTEEN
The wind had picked up overnight and it blew through the leaves. Despite the grey sky that seemed capable of letting loose a sprinkle or two, there was no smell of rain in the air. It was almost as if the clouds couldn't decide what they should do. A feeling Jillian could relate to, she thought as she stepped off her porch.
She was still in awe of it all. How Wade had touched her body, how she'd responded. How they'd touched, kissed and made love until he'd left in the deep, dark of night so he could be home long before his mother or daughter awoke. Though she certainly wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed, she understood why he hadn't. And truth be told, she'd needed a little time to think as well.
While her body hummed like a well-played violin, her mind and heart were like tumbleweeds turning from one thought to another. She hadn't come out west to find love or get mar
ried. Between the way most men had treated her back home, and Clint's betrayal when he'd told her she'd have to choose either him or being a doctor, Jillian had given up hope of ever finding love. She wanted to work at what her father had taught her, what she knew. What she'd worked toward. What she loved.
Yet how she could turn away from what she'd found with Wade? After last night, she couldn't imagine ever letting another man touch her. The thought alone made her shudder. She wanted Wade, only Wade. And she'd made friends here. For the first time in her life, she had true friends. But even if Wade could make her promises, what if the town never accepted her as their veterinarian?
She crossed the dusty yard and tucked back the hair that the wind kept tossing into her face. She was getting too far ahead of herself. It wasn't as though Wade had professed his love and proposed. In truth, Jillian had no idea what he was he thinking or feeling as he'd simply kissed her goodnight and slipped out the door.
On awakening this morning, she'd decided to go see Silver. Jillian knew the woman didn't go to church, as she'd never seen her there, and she herself wasn't up to seeing Wade and his family just yet. Especially at church. Not until she settled a few things, if only in her mind.
Hopefully talking things over with Silver would help. Of course that would mean telling her about last night. Jillian's stomach twitched. Her face warmed. Maybe she wouldn't tell Silver everything.
"First things first," she said, walking through the door she'd left open last night. She'd do her chores, wash and maybe by then she'd have a few things settled in her mind.
She sniffed, but most of the stench from the manure was gone. Mostly all she smelled was what usually greeted her in the morning. Jillian stepped into Whiskers' stall. He didn't thump. That's what first alerted her. He always thumped when she came into the stall where his cage was kept.
"Oh, Whiskers," she whispered when she saw his still form lying in the cage. She'd no idea how old he was but he was always active and alert when she came in, always eager to get to his food once she closed the cage. Certainly she wouldn't have expected him to die anytime soon.
Sadness swept over her. She'd so hoped to earn his trust, to get him to stop thumping his foot when she came near. Now she'd never get the chance. It may not have been more than a few weeks since she'd taken over his care, but she'd come to love his ever-twitching nose and his cautious little eyes.
It wasn't possible to be a veterinarian and not love animals and she considered Whiskers worthy of the tears that hovered in her eyes. Grabbing the shovel from the tack room Jillian absently patted the other animals that had edged over their stalls for a morning greeting.
"I'll get your breakfasts soon," she said and went outside to find the perfect place to bury Whiskers.
She chose a spot at the edge of the trees next to a bright pink rose bush and dug deep enough that other animals wouldn't smell what was there and unearth it. Her heart was heavy when she opened the cage and lifted him out.
She knew immediately by the way his head was positioned that Whiskers hadn't died a natural death. His neck had been broken. Feeling sick, she lay him back down.
It was time to get the sheriff involved.
***
Without being physically sick there was no way to talk his way out of going to church without rousing his mother's suspicions. After last night the last thing he wanted was to go to town. Shane likely still had Garvey locked up, but Jillian would be there.
He scraped a hand over his freshly-shaven face and let out a deep breath. On second thought maybe it was a good thing he was going to church. He could pray for wisdom, a solution to his conflicting emotions. Because he sure as heck didn't know what the hell to do next. All he knew was last night had been so damn perfect and yet it didn't change what Jillian did, who she was.
"Papa, will Mr. Garvey be at church?"
Wade was driving the buckboard, his daughter bouncing along between him and his mother while James rode alongside on his gelding. Scott, the lucky bastard, was never expected to go. Since he'd first come to work at the Triple P, he'd said he didn't go to church and Eileen had never had pushed him. Because Scott wasn't her son. She had no such reservations about pushing Wade.
"I'm not sure. That depends on Shane."
"Does your hand still hurt?"
"A little," he said.
"Will I be able to play with Jacob for a little while after church?"
"Not for long, I have a lot of work to do today."
"I wonder why Mr. Garvey is so mean. Mrs. Garvey isn't, she's always real nice to me."
"Annabelle," his mother warned. "If you can't say anything nice..."
"I know," Annabelle huffed and crossed her arms. "But you grownups do it all the time. I hear you."
From his left he heard James chuckle, then watched as he tried to hide it behind a cough. It wasn't even ten and Wade had a headache. Lack of sleep could only be blamed for a part of it. Since breakfast his daughter hadn't stopped talking, asking questions about last night. She wanted to know everything that had happened after she'd been put to bed. Since it was the first time she'd ever seen him hit anybody, it wasn't unusual for her to be curious. Still he longed for one single moment where he could think in silence.
"Do you think Miss Matthews will be there?" Annabelle turned wide eyes on her father. "Will you get into another fight?"
"No, he won't," his mother replied with a pointed look at her son.
Annabelle looked almost disappointed at the news.
More wagons than usual filled the grassy area around the church. The gossipers were out in full force.
"Great, just great," Wade murmured as he set the brake, jumped down, and lifted Annabelle out. On the other side, James helped his ma.
"Uncle Shane!"
Annabelle ran to Shane, threw her arms around his waist.
"Hey, Button," he said, using the name they'd all adopted for her.
"Is Mr. Garvey still in jail?"
"Annabelle!" Wade reprimanded at the same as his mother.
"I'll get us a seat inside," his mother said, taking Annabelle's hand. She smiled at Shane, patted his arm. "Good morning."
He tipped his hat. "Morning, Mrs. Parker."
"Do you need me?" James asked, looking from Wade to Shane.
"Nah, just need a minute of Wade's time."
James nodded. "Then I'll see you later."
They waited until James was inside. The doors to the little church were open, letting in the breeze, but they were far enough away that their voices wouldn't be heard. Nothing else moved around them but the grass bending in the wind.
"You were waiting for me?"
"Just thought I'd let you know that I'll keep Garvey in until church service is over. He's not happy about it but I figured it would be best."
It would allow Wade to get away from town before Steven was released. He felt some of the strain on his shoulders ease.
"Thanks."
"Any time." He studied Wade for a moment. "Anything else I need to worry about? You look like you didn't sleep."
"Had a hard time settling down after last night." Which was true, but it wasn't due to his fisticuffs with Garvey.
"Don't blame you, but at least you got to hit him. I didn't have that satisfaction."
Wade smiled. "Next time."
"Speaking of that," Shane said and his dark eyes got a little darker. "I don't think it's only Steven we need to worry about."
"You're talking about Justin and that bunch."
"I think they're harmless, for the most part, but I was watching them at the picnic and at the town meeting. They don't look too happy about having Jillian here either. Luckily everything happened so fast last night that they didn't have a chance to get involved."
Wade remembered how they'd glared at him as they'd left, which was right after Shane had hauled Steven away.
"I'll keep my eyes open but I'm hoping last night was an isolated event."
"Yeah," Shane said as he thump
ed Wade on the shoulder. "Let's hope."
***
Good, Jillian thought as she rode Hope into town and saw all the wagons around the church. Everyone was still inside. With any luck at all Shane wasn't among them, although she had seen him in church before. But if he was, she knew he kept a room over the jail; she could always wait for him there. She tied Hope to Shane's back stairway and, on the chance that he was at his desk, slipped around front and went inside.
"You!" Steven seethed from the cell at the back. Shane wasn't anywhere to be seen.
Steven looked awful. Stubble darkened his face, his eyes were red and narrowed, his shirt hung out of his pants, his clothes were wrinkled. Even from where she stood she smelled last night's whiskey on his breath. His hatred for her barreled across the floor and knocked her back a step.
His hands curled around the bars. "You don't belong here, Bitch, and I won't rest until you're run out!"
Jillian was glad the bars were firmly between them. His loathing was thick and black as smoke and it curled around her neck, making it hard to breathe. Well, he may yet succeed in running her out, but for the moment she was still there.
Swallowing her fear, knowing there wasn't anything she could do about her racing heart or her damp hands, Jillian moved closer to the cell. His eyes went cold. His nostrils flared. Jillian ignored the rancid breath that flooded from his mouth.
"Get out of here," he snarled.
"Stay away from me," Jillian warned. "If you so much as think about hurting another of my animals, I'll shoot you."
"What the hell are you blathering about?"
"I'm not scared of you, Steven."
He pounced on the bars and yelled.
Jillian screamed and jumped back.
Steven laughed. "Looks like you're plenty scared to me."
Shane burst through the door. "What the hell is going on?"
"Your friend's whore stopped by for a little visit."
Shane glowered. "Apologize right now, or you can spend another night in here."