The bathroom door opens, releasing misty clouds of steam. Jay walks out, dressed in pants but no shirt.
For some reason, I jump out of bed.
In my head, I start listing every kind of bird I can think of.
Robin.
Raven.
Red-tailed Hawk.
Redheaded Woodpecker.
Swallow.
Not helping, Olive.
Jay is standing RIGHT THERE. Shirtless. The fly and button of his jeans are undone, revealing the black band of his boxers.
I’m so busy staring at his shoulders and pecs and enjoying the peekaboo his abs are playing with me, I don’t notice when he catches me. I only know he does.
And he’s blushing.
Or maybe he’s flushed from the warm glow of the fire or his shower. Sure, because what man who looks like Ranger Daniels is capable of blushing?
I’m in only a black sports bra and underwear. In my opinion, I’m wearing the equivalent of a conservative bikini. However, Jay’s eyes and the way he keeps blinking tell another story.
We’re standing on opposite sides of the enormous four-poster bed. A mile of white sheets separates us. I’m nervous like a virgin on her wedding night. Only this isn’t our wedding night and I haven’t been a virgin in a long time.
His chest heaves with breath like he’s run a mile instead of walked a dozen feet from the bathroom.
Feeling bold, I peel the bra over my head and drop it to the floor.
In response, he stalks over to my side of the world’s largest bed. The desperate look is back in his eyes, as if he’s barely able to restrain himself around me. I find the idea of him losing control because of me beyond sexy.
Without a word, he lifts me by my waist and tosses me on my back in the middle of the mattress. The fluffy duvet pads my landing. I open my mouth to speak, but Jay drops his jeans to the floor.
And then he’s above me, mouth covering mine, tongue sweeping into my mouth. He’s gone from awkward to wolfish in seconds.
He takes control, shifting my body to settle his hips between my spread thighs. I’ve caught glimpses of him through his uniform pants, but I’m wholly unprepared for the feeling of him with only two thin layers of fabric separating us.
Breaking from kissing my mouth, he drags his bearded jaw along my jaw. The sensation of whiskers brushing against sensitive skin has me arching my back as I imagine his face between my thighs.
His tongue sweeps a line down my neck. He pauses to nip the skin at the curve above my collarbones. While his mouth is busy, his hand is on my breast, kneading and rolling my nipple between his fingers. The sensation sends a direct current to the gentle throbbing between my thighs.
He dips his head to draw the other breast into his mouth, sucking and dragging his teeth over the tender nipple. My back arches and my hips buck, seeking rhythm or friction or something to ease the building ache deep in my belly.
Without even touching me below the waist, he’s pushed me to the edge. Feeling selfish, I reach for him, drawing his face closer to mine. He obliges, roughly kissing my lips. His hips grind into mine and I know I’m not the only one desperate for more.
Each kiss becomes slower and lighter. When there’s a gap between them, I open my eyes to find him staring down at me.
“What?” I whisper, worried he’s having second thoughts.
“Nothing. I said I wanted to savor this moment with you, so I am.”
I don’t know whether to fall in love with him on the spot or scream with frustration.
Too late. I’m already in love with him.
I skate my hands over his shoulders and biceps, down his torso until I reach the band of fabric at his waist. Palming him through his boxers, I say a silent thank you to the first deity who comes to mind: Eros, the god of lust. I slip my hand under his waistband to feel him against my skin.
Jay sucks a breath between his teeth. Dropping his head until his forehead presses against mine, he breathes deeply for a few beats as I stroke him.
“Olive … damn. Your hand feels amazing.”
Inwardly, I preen.
“But you need to stop or I’m going to come from a hand job, which is not at all how I imagined this evening going.” With an embarrassed laugh, he rolls to the side and unclasps my fingers. Encouraging me with his hand on my hip, he whispers, “Come here.”
I climb on top of him, legs astride his thighs, his erection trapped between us. Leaning forward, I capture his mouth with mine, gently biting on his bottom lip.
Slowly, torturously he rolls his hips, driving himself against me. It doesn’t relieve the ache. Instead, he multiplies it by tenfold.
My head thrown back, I find a rhythm above him, grinding down when he thrusts.
His hands knead my breasts, eliciting a throaty moan from me. Lifting his head, he sucks a nipple into his mouth and drags his teeth along the taut bud.
Everything becomes too much. My skin heats, a warm flush blazing across my chest and up my neck as tiny beads of sweat gather between my breasts. My movements become erratic as I both delay and seek pleasure.
All this and he hasn’t removed my underwear.
Sweet lord.
I exhale and let my chin drop to my chest.
This man, this beautiful, complicated man.
It’s entirely possible I might not survive the night.
Death by pleasure might be the best way to go.
Peering down at him, I see his long lashes cast shadows on his high cheekbones. There’s a small scar near his left eye. Could be from the chickenpox. His Cupid’s bow lips are parted and his tongue rests heavy in his mouth. The cords in his neck strain and his fingers dig into my hips, guiding me over him.
How can I suspend this moment forever? This bliss that only exists in these fleeting seconds between before and after?
I sweep my fingers through a lock of hair on his forehead. In response, he opens his eyes, the green deeper and darker with lust and pleasure.
His movements pause as he drinks me in, his hands lifting to cup my face. Simultaneously, arching his neck and dragging my head down, he finds my mouth and kisses me, deep into my soul. His intentions are as clear as the love in his eyes.
I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying the words aloud.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jay
Olive is above me, kissing my neck, her hips rolling in slow, agonizing circles.
Tangling my fingers in her hair, I pull back, less gently than I did when I kissed her in the office. “If we’re going to continue, we need to stop. I’ve waited months for this moment, fantasized about variations whenever I masturbated.”
Her eyes flash open. “You thought about me?”
“For months. I have a very good imagination.”
“Oh god, you can’t say things like that to me.” Her hips still and her eyelids flutter closed. “What did you imagine?”
“I could tell you, or I can show you.” I cup her breast and squeeze.
She releases a soft moan. “Show.”
I place my hands on her hips, leveraging her weight to slide her off of me and then flipping her to her back. “We’ll need to lose these.”
I nip the black fabric at her hip before removing it.
Her thighs part, exposing her center to me. Climbing off the bed, I kneel near the side.
“You don’t have to.” She stills my head near the apex of her thighs. “It’s okay.”
I sit back on my heels. “Didn’t you just ask me to show you what I’ve been fantasizing about?”
Her eyes are closed, but she nods.
“Look at me, Olive.”
She barely opens her lids.
“If you say you don’t like something or want to stop, I will. Always.” I pause to kiss the soft skin of her thigh. “Now if you’re saying you don’t want me to go down on you because you think I’m doing it out of obligation, you’re wrong. Got it?”
She nods again.
“Good.�
�� I nuzzle her sex with my nose, inhaling her arousal before dragging my tongue through her wetness.
In response, her hips buck off the bed. I flatten my tongue and lap at her clit until she’s a writhing, begging mess. Slipping one finger and then a second inside her, I curl the tips against her inner wall, seeking the spot to send her over the edge.
“I’m close, so close,” she murmurs.
I continue my steady rhythm, reaching my other hand to her breast, losing myself in the way her body responds to my touch. When I feel her begin to fall apart, I open my eyes and still my tongue. With a groan, I watch as her orgasm rolls through her body. She’s magnificent.
My cock throbs in response, hard with desperation. I need to be inside her as soon as possible.
“That was …” She exhales. “Everything.”
“I aim to please.” Smiling, I kiss her hip, sending small tremors across her abdomen. Slowly, dragging my mouth along her skin, I make my way up to her shoulder.
With my lips against her ear, I whisper, “I’ll be right back.”
“No, don’t go.” She wraps her arms around my neck.
Chuckling, I unwind her arms so I can go get a condom.
“Please tell me you brought more than one.” She cracks open an eye to find me.
“I have a fresh box,” I admit.
“Good. We should plan to use all of them.”
I’m up for the challenge if she is.
After she left in October, I spent weeks thinking we’d never get here. I convinced myself she wasn’t the one for me. I had a long list of all the reasons why we could never work out.
If I die from delayed gratification, I have no one to blame but myself.
I make quick work of sliding the condom on, giving myself a quick tug. Part of me wants to give her another orgasm with my mouth, delaying the inevitable quickness of my own climax. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex, and I know I won’t last. Not with the way I already throb for her.
“Jay?” Her voice is a siren call.
I climb over her and kiss her deeply, the tip of my cock nudging her entrance through the slick of what we just created.
“Please,” she pleads, her hand sliding between our hips to grip me.
I groan at her touch as I slide into her warmth. My forehead falls to hers as I pause, breathing deeply through my nose.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
“Give me a second,” I mumble with my mouth against her temple.
She giggles, lightening the moment. I feel her body’s shaking in my cock.
“Not helping.”
“Don’t aim for perfection. We have all night to get this right.” Her hands slide down my back to my ass, encouraging me to move.
Confident I won’t come in two strokes, I thrust deeper into her. The sensation overwhelms me. She feels incredible. My skin slides against hers, our bodies connected deeply.
Emotion rises and crests over me.
“I love you, Olive.”
Shit.
Once again, I still my hips, mortification helping to delay my orgasm.
With my eyes closed, I confess, “I can’t believe I said that to you for the first time during sex.”
“Do you mean it?” she asks, her ankles against my thighs.
“Without a doubt.” I peek down to find her staring at me with wide, emotion-filled eyes.
“I love you right back.” She rolls her hips, reminding me that we’re still joined as intimately as two people can be.
“God, I love you,” I repeat.
She cups my cheek. “Show me.”
My pleasure hits the point of no return. My movements become erratic before I thrust deeply, emptying myself inside of her.
Collapsing, I roll us to the side, limbs tangled together. I pull her head to my chest and stroke her hair. “I love you.”
She rests her hand over my heart. “I’ll never get tired of hearing those words from you.”
“Good, because I plan to tell you every day.”
“What about dinner?” she murmurs a while later, not lifting her head from the pillows.
I grin as I slip out of bed. “One of the reasons I suggested coming here—room service.”
“You are a genius, Dr. Daniels.” She rolls over and the sheet slips.
“Best idea I’ve ever had.” I crawl up the bed until I can kiss her shoulder. “Wait, did you call me Dr. Daniels?”
“It’s your name, right? You have a Ph.D. in conservation biology from Ohio State.”
I pin her with my hips. “You looked me up?”
“I may have done some online research, yes.” Wiggling beneath me, she kisses along my jaw.
On instinct, my hips roll, my cock thickening.
“Your dissertation was on a particular bird.” She gazes up at me, fighting a smile. “Do you recall what it was?”
She obviously knows the answer. Resting my weight on one forearm, I sweep a strand of wild hair from her forehead with my other hand. “I believe I studied a species of warblers.”
“Hmm, interesting. There are so many.”
“There are. Almost forty different species in the Great Smokies alone.” I kiss a line across her collarbones.
Her thighs spread farther apart, welcoming me closer. “I don’t suppose you’d be considered a leading expert on the Black-throated Blue Warbler, would you?”
A grin slips across my face. “Perhaps.”
“Ranger Daniels, would you say you lied to me by omission?” Her laughter fills the space.
“Maybe. In my defense, I was in too much shock that you picked my bird as the one you wanted to spot. I also knew you were too late in the season to see one.”
“I have a confession.” Her brows pull together. “Remember how we met?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget your first words to me.” I chuckle against her skin.
“I lied. I was off the trail because I thought I saw a warbler. When you showed up, I thought I’d be in trouble.”
I lift my head to stare at her before cracking up. “Seriously?”
She nods. “It obviously worked. Not only did I escape arrest, I charmed the pants right off of you.”
“I love you, Olive.” I hold her gaze. “I wanted to tell you again since I messed up the first time.”
“It was perfect.” She kisses me and with her lips hovering a breath away from mine, whispers, “I love you, Jay.”
My heart expands at the words on her lips.
I want her beside me as I take this journey through life. She’s both the path I’d follow anywhere and my destination.
I might not fit neatly into any box, but I’ll never doubt I belong with Olive.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Olive
May
Jay navigates the official white National Park Services SUV through the crowded parking lot to the back of the community center housed in a charming, old school building.
Everything about Green Valley screams quaint, small town America with the adorable main street full of little businesses and a nice library. Feels like walking back in time to a simpler way of living. Not saying things are easier around here, but after months in the woods and mountains, the frantic pressure of city living holds less and less appeal to me.
I’ve stuck around because I don’t want to go back to my old life and even more than that, I want to see if I can make a new life here with Jay. He doesn’t seem eager for me to leave either. In fact, my departure has never been discussed. Maybe that’s how people who aren’t born here end up living here: they visit and just stay. Sounds good to me.
“Popular place to be on a Friday night.” I gaze out the window at all the cars.
“Really the only place to be unless you like bars or strip clubs.” He parks the large vehicle with ease.
“How come you didn’t tell me about those options?” I keep my voice neutral to gauge his reaction.
It’s a good thing we’re parked, because
Jay’s head jerks so hard to the right to stare at me he might have crashed.
“Um, I didn’t think either of those would be your thing. If … if you’d like to go somewhere else, there might be a book club meeting at the library. Or we could grab some pie at Daisy’s again.”
“What’s the name of the strip club?” I ask, hoping to catch him off guard.
“The Pink Pony,” he answers without hesitation. “Why?”
“I’ve never been to one, so I’m curious.”
His ears pink at the edges and he swipes a hand through his light brown hair. “I doubt a backroad strip club would hold much interest for a big-city girl like you.”
“Have you been to this Pink Pony?” I twist and lean in my seat to get a better view of his expression.
“Once. One of the summer interns thought it was appropriate to have his birthday-slash-going-away party there a few years ago.” His hand drops from his head.
“Good time had by all?” I grin.
“Some, yes. The majority, no.” He grimaces. “Work functions should require everyone to be wearing pants.”
“Sounds awkward.”
He groans. “You have no idea.”
“Why did anyone go? Couldn’t you have said no?” Now I’m genuinely curious.
“My boss asked me to go to make sure no one got in too much trouble.”
I lean against my window. “Chaperone at a strip club?”
“Could anything be worse?” He closes his eyes before opening one and sneaking a glance at me.
My laughter fills the small space, and his soon follows.
“Shall we go inside?” he asks after a few moments.
Muffled sounds of music, banjo and fiddle, drift across the lot when I open my door.
Up until now, I’ve played it cool, showing only minor interest in the jam session, hiding how thrilled I am to hear real Appalachian music.
He jogs around the hood to close my door.
“Excited?” He squeezes my hand.
“Almost as excited as I was when the warblers returned. Did you know there would be so many? They’re the pigeons of the Smokies.” I wink at him.
Happy Trail (Park Ranger Book 1) Page 22
