Skin Heat

by Ava Gray

  Zeke nodded. “Probably should.”

  He swooped down and planted a possessive kiss on her mouth, just enough to leave her tingling and wanting more. But they both had work to do.

  The day went quickly after that, and she was dead tired by the time they locked the front doors. Julie had gone home an hour before; Neva finished before Zeke for once, but it didn’t take long for him to wrap up. He met her at the back door, kitten box in hand.

  She drove without asking if he wanted to. Maybe nobody else would notice, but she paid attention to his reactions; he hated being behind the wheel of a car. Now she suspected that was the reason he preferred to run everywhere. Not only did it offer a nice workout, it also saved him from driving.

  They passed the ride in silence. He’d left the parlor lights on at the farm, so the windows showed golden, comforting against the dark. She liked feeling like she had a real home again, though she knew, of course, she couldn’t just move in as a temporary arrangement and then just . . . stay. People didn’t make life-altering decisions like that.

  Zeke bounded out of the car, box in hand, and jogged around to her side to open the car door. Funny. He hadn’t always done that, just since that first morning they’d hooked up. The difference in how he treated his boss versus his lover delighted her. Not that they’d done much loving lately. He unlocked the front door and she preceded him into the house.

  “Thanks.”

  He inclined his head. “Gonna heat the chicken casserole.”

  The kittens were hungry, so Neva fed them before doing anything else. Julie had pitched in during the afternoon, freeing her to see patients, but she was glad to get back to them. These little guys had beaten the odds, and with each passing day, they got a bit stronger. In a few more weeks, she could wean and transition them to soft food mixed with formula. She would be grateful when they could use the cat box; they could go to the bathroom on their own now, but orphaned kittens tended to run a little behind on litter training. Only another week or so, she told herself. Once they’d eaten and gone to the bathroom and she cleaned up, she tucked two kittens into her shirt. They were soft and furry with tiny claws raking at her skin. Zeke took the other little guy.

  They carried plates of leftovers on the stove and ate in the parlor. Amazing how little they spoke, but she felt comfortable ; it wasn’t an awkward I-wish-I-could-think-of-something-to-say silence, but a we’ll-talk-when-it’s-important feeling.

  And now it was time to get down to it.

  Zeke sat down at the far end of the couch. He couldn’t touch her and say what he needed to. Nothing had ever scared him so much.

  “Did this all backward,” he said without looking at her. “Working together, living together, then—” He made the gesture that she seemed to understand meant fooling around. “Never did it . . . right. No dates. No normal stuff. And I don’t want to feel like I’m somebody you need to hide.”

  “How could you imagine I’m ashamed of you? I asked you to come with me to dinner this weekend.”

  “Maybe just to piss off your mother.”

  “You think that’s why? No wonder you’ve been distant,” she said coldly. “I wouldn’t want anything to do with someone I thought was using me, either.”

  Shit. He was fucking this all up as he’d known he would. Which was why he’d been avoiding the conversation, only things were getting worse between them, and not better. Another inch and she’d be out the door. That wasn’t what he wanted.

  “No.” He fought for the right words. If she were an animal, he could share what he felt without needing the words. Helplessly, he tried, and the kittens cried plaintively. “Just want to feel like I’m good enough for you. That’s all.”

  He chanced a look at her, and she’d thawed a little. “I think you are. Maybe the problem is that you don’t. And that’s not something I can help.”

  Those words hit him like a punch in the chest. He hadn’t been fair. She’d never once hinted he wasn’t enough. He just thought she deserved better because he knew what he had to offer: this farm, manual labor, and precious little else.

  “I’m happy with you,” she went on, more gently. “At home for the first time in years. But I feel like I’m more invested in this than you are. And that scares me.”

  God, she was fearless with her brown eyes and firm chin lifted at an angle that dared him to clip her on it. It wasn’t true, of course. He was hers. Zeke just hadn’t wanted to admit it, for fear she’d realize he was nothing special and leave, just as soon as she figured it out. But if he didn’t tell her, that made him a coward.

  He put the words together slowly, like a complicated jigsaw puzzle. “Would do anything for you. Too soon to say it and maybe too soon to feel it.” Zeke shaped the last sentence with care, so she understood its importance. “It’s not that you matter less to me . . . it’s that I . . . care so much I don’t have the words.”

  Love didn’t encompass it. She was every bright and beautiful thing in his world, but she’d once seemed as untouchable as the moon. In some ways, it was a tough adjustment. Not bad, just different, allowing himself to picture a future that put her beside him. He didn’t know how to lose the fear that admitting his feelings would draw down some terrible curse. It wasn’t logical, but he’d already lost the ability to read. He also feared as time went on, he’d lose even more of his mind. Would she still want him when he could only lift heavy things for her, grunt, and hump?

  That was why the idea of jumping with both feet and accepting they could be together terrified him. If he could barely tell her how he felt about her, how could he tell her that? Neva studied him, as if trying to read him like he could the kittens and the coyote. God, how he wished it could be so easy.

  “So you’re good enough,” she said in summation. “And I’m not using you. That established, what do you want, Zeke?”

  “Want everyone to know you’re mine.” The answer slipped out before he’d even formed it in his mind: her parents, their friends, his family, and especially that fucking Ben Reed. If the guy came sniffing around again—well, he’d been polite the first couple of times; he didn’t have any more patience to spare.

  She surprised him by nodding. “Me, too. I didn’t like it when Connie was prowling around you. Most relationships start light, but I don’t think I can do that with you. It’s too hard.”

  He couldn’t have said it better himself. Zeke nodded, relieved he didn’t have to say it. Pleasure coursed through him at knowing she felt possessive. He wanted to belong to her. In fact, he already did, but it soothed his hackles knowing she wanted him like that. Soothed him and stirred him at the same time. The raw lust he’d leashed came roaring back.

  “Enough talk,” he growled.

  If she was his, then she was, and he wanted her right now. No more waiting. The kittens, he settled in their box before pouncing on her. Neva wore a look of comical surprise as he snatched her up. Normal men probably didn’t do this; he was beyond caring. Beyond her gasp, she didn’t protest.

  He took the stairs at a run with her dangling over one shoulder. Instead of fighting him, her hands wandered down his back, teasing at the skin above the waistband of his jeans. Oh, she’d pay for that.

  Once he got to the bedroom, a ravenous kiss spoke of her eagerness. Her tongue stroked his, teasing, but he didn’t let her take control. She had her chance. Now it’s my turn. And this time he wasn’t stopping until she came all over his cock.

  Zeke brought her up against him hard, grinding their hips together. With a soft little moan, she softened and let him do it while his lips ravished hers. Mine. All mine. She nipped his lower lip and the tender pain drove him higher. His cock throbbed as she moved with him. The layers of clothing only heightened his arousal because he remembered the heat and softness of her skin.

  “Can’t go slow this first time,” he warned her, biting down on her shoulder. “Been missing you in my bed.”

  The hitch in her voice did things to him. “Then go fast. Please.�
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  And that little please broke him. With a snarl he dug into the dresser and got a condom. Neva took it from him and unbuttoned his pants. His cock sprang out, so hard it hurt for her to touch him. A woman had never rolled the latex on him before, and with her head bent to the task, he almost came from the pleasure of it.

  With rough hands, he peeled off her scrubs and panties, then backed her against the wall. Even the bed seemed too far; he had to be inside her right now. Still, he had enough mind left to make sure she was ready. He knelt and pressed his face between her legs, breathing her in. Her body was wet but he licked her up and down to be sure. He offered no finesse or gentleness; he just tasted and took.

  She loved it.

  “Fuck.” She shuddered when his mouth brushed her clit, but she wasn’t coming. Not yet. Not like that.

  Take her. She’s all yours.

  At last he heeded the beast voice inside him. Zeke straightened and lifted her up, flattening her back against the wall. He tilted her hips and drove forward. Hot. Tight. Perfect. A shudder rocked him.

  By her reaction she’d never done this before; her weak, polished men probably couldn’t manage it. He held her easily, for once glorying in his strength. Zeke thrust hard and fast while she figured out how to roll her hips against him. Her wetness kissed his pelvis with each inward push. Neva clutched his shoulders, her head falling back as pleasure overwhelmed her.

  Her contractions drove him over. His whole body tightened and he urged himself into her over and over, trying to imprint himself on her. Nobody else for you, ever. Only me. Just mine. Love you. Mine. The words melted into a kaleidoscope of cascading colors and feelings. He wrapped his arms around her while they both trembled. Tingles spilled through him, lighting him up from base of spine to base of skull. He’d never known anything like it.

  At last he stumbled from the wall to the bed with her still in his arms. She rolled off him and disposed of the condom. Not romantic, per se, but sticky and somehow more real. She wasn’t afraid to touch him. Not any part of him, and it gave him some hope that maybe she wouldn’t be disgusted when she learned his last secret.

  “Wow,” she breathed, snuggling into his side.

  He put his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. If he was like other men, he’d tell her nobody else could ever take her place. He’d tell her she made him feel like a million bucks. Maybe he’d find a way to say everything that mattered. Instead he could only lay with her and listen to her breathe.

  Sunday came all too soon. Neva knew Zeke wasn’t looking forward to it. Truth be told, neither was she. Her first sign of how tense he was about it came when she caught him ironing four hours before they were due at Harper Court. He had a pair of black slacks and he was putting a crease in them with such ferocity she expected the pants to cry uncle.

  “You all right?” she asked.

  “No.” He pulled a face as he hung the slacks on a rack and moved on to his white dress shirt.

  Plain clothes, almost painfully simple. Was he worried he’d look like he was wearing a waiter’s uniform? She’d never seen him in anything but jeans, sweats, or his bare skin. Neva preferred the latter.

  “You’re nervous.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Duh.” His smile softened the syllable.

  She sighed. “I don’t blame you. My mother gave you reason to worry. But it won’t just be us, if that helps any. My folks don’t know the meaning of intimate family meal. There will be people my father wants to cultivate and those trying to get something out of him in turn.”

  “Sounds like fun.” His dry tone put a smile on her face.

  “I’ll stay close, I promise. I won’t let her at you again. We’ll circulate, minimize your contact with them.”

  “Make ’em sound like poison oak.”

  Grinning, she answered, “That’s not a bad analogy.”

  Some of the tension eased out of him. “Don’t have many ties. Maybe help me pick the best of the lot?”

  “My pleasure.”

  Yesterday she’d run to her apartment to pick up some more clothes and wound up bringing over a box of other stuff, too, towels and linens mostly. She had a weakness for Egyptian cotton, and there was no point in her expensive sheets going to waste in her hall closet. It’s just a few things, she’d told herself. No problem to move back in a few weeks when the kittens are old enough. Neva didn’t let herself think about how much she didn’t want to go back; the repairs weren’t finished, and by the look of the equipment sitting around, it would be at least another week. Thank God. Since they’d painted the place together, the farmhouse had begun to feel like home. She had to stop herself from planning all the little things she’d do to improve the place or how perfectly some of her pictures would brighten up the walls. There was even a place for her TV armoire in the parlor.

  Zeke led the way to the bedroom they now shared. Her stuff was still in the other room but she hadn’t slept there in two days. In the closet he had a meager assortment of ties. She studied them and then chose a black and purple one. Since he was wearing black and white, he could afford a splashier pattern.

  “This is the best.”

  “Really?” He gave it a dubious glance.

  “Trust me.”

  “I do,” he said gravely.

  “You can’t know how much I need you there.”

  By his expression, he understood what she meant. Zeke nodded. “Only reason I said yes.”

  She left him to finish getting ready; he mumbled about needing to shave, and she went to put on her good black dress, the same one she always wore. It wasn’t like one looked so different from another, after all. For once, she left her hair down and put on makeup. As she frosted her lids with shadow, outlined her eyes, and painted her mouth, she knew she wasn’t doing it for her mother’s guests.

  Neva wanted Zeke to see her, for once, looking her absolute best, not in baggy scrubs or with her hair caught up in a tail. She wanted him to see the graceful slope of her shoulders and the way the dress nipped in at her waist and hugged her hips. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the world, but he made her feel so.

  His reaction when she came down the stairs was everything she could’ve asked. His breath caught, and his stormy eyes went dark with a need she recognized. In answer, it coiled deep in her stomach. Zeke took a step toward her, and then checked himself. The sweetest tension rose between them, an ache that had never been assuaged. She stood in the parlor, breathless at the ferocity.

  “Beautiful,” he breathed.

  And that one word meant more than a barrage of orchestrated flattery. Other men might say it more eloquently, but when Zeke said it, she believed him. Neva spun so he could take in the whole picture.

  “Are you ready?”

  “To strip that dress off you.”

  God, he was good for her self-esteem. This guy would never choose TV and beer over her. Neva smiled up at him. His dress clothes were a little loose, but fortunately with a belt and judicious tucking, it didn’t matter much. His build showed to advantage anyway, giving him a razor-lean look.

  “Later, I promise. You look wonderful. Shall we?”

  “No.”

  Neva paused, glancing at him over her shoulder, and found him breathlessly close. His hands settled on her hips and he kissed the side of her neck as he worked her skirt up. Each movement constituted a caress, and despite the fact that she was ready to step out the door, a whisper of arousal flickered through her. Other men wouldn’t even think of this; they had plans, someplace to be. But he wanted her too much to consider anything else. And what a turn on . . .

  A shiver ran through her. “Quickly then.”

  “Mmm.” He made a noise of assent as he lifted her skirt all the way up.

  She was glad, now, that she’d put on stockings instead of hose. He dipped his fingers down the satin front of her panties and stroked her. His hands promised, I will fuck you before we go. Her pussy slicked in preparation, aching for him. She fell ba
ck against his chest, lost in the sweetness of his touch.

  Zeke tore off her panties then. He was hell on her wardrobe—and his own—but she found his wildness irresistible. He pushed her forward a few steps, so that she fell across the arm of the couch. Just high enough. And she knew what he intended.

  His breath rasped. Then he unzipped his pants. The crinkle of a foil packet reassured her. Quiet sounds, inextricably linked to sex.

  “Spread for me.”

  She almost came at his white-hot instruction and rose on her tiptoes, quivering from head to toe in anticipation. Zeke sank himself home in one long thrust; a satisfied growl tore free as he pumped into her, rough and hard. Neva tried to support herself on her arms, but they trembled. She couldn’t think, only feel. Her whole body shook at his mastery. The position put extra pressure on her clit, and he struck the sweetest spot. Repeatedly. Pleasure nearly blinded her as he held her still with a hand on her back. She could only squeeze her muscles against him and let her breath come in panting moans. Nothing had ever felt like this.

  “Can’t do this unless you’re mine,” he growled. “Can’t be in the middle of all those people unless I feel it. Unless I’m sure.” He thrust harder, dragging her hips back against him in primitive demand.

  “Oh.”

  “Say it.”

  “Yours. I’m yours.” In speaking the words, she came, long, glorious waves that nearly broke her.

  He arched into her and snarled, rocking with quick, almost pained movements. Neva felt his shudders for long moments, and then he pulled out. She moaned in protest. She knew only that he’d left her, but when he returned, he had a damp cloth to clean them up, a spot-bath. Zeke helped her step into a fresh pair of panties, and she would’ve fallen if he hadn’t caught her.

  Hands on her waist, he wore a hard, focused look. “Remember this, while we’re there. Remember it.”

  Neva let him guide her out to the car, but it was a minute or two before she stopped trembling enough to start the engine. He seemed incredibly pleased with himself. “Took care of the kittens just before I changed.”