He paused to let her get used to the intimacy, then slipped his fingers into the softness, wringing a small gasp from her.
Flattening his hand, he pressed gently while at the same time plunging his tongue deeply into her mouth. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and her legs moved restlessly, as though she too were feeling the hot ache of desire deep inside.
He stroked her slowly until he felt the warmth of sudden moisture against his fingertips, then faster and faster until she was moaning almost constantly.
In his dreams he'd made it perfect for her, always satisfying her so completely that there couldn't possibly be any lingering memories to wedge between them. In his dreams, he was in perfect control, the masterful lover she had deserved for her first time instead of a kid too quick on the trigger.
But his control was rapidly being undermined by the quick little moans she was making in her throat and the eager arching movements of her pelvis against his hand.
The scent of her skin and the musk of her arousal surrounded him, beating at his already slipping control. He drew back, his hands pushing her gown above her breasts.
Her eyes opened wide and she murmured an impatient protest, her hands climbing his arms again.
"Easy," he managed to get out between rasping breaths. "Help me get this off you. When I'm inside you, I want to feel your breasts against me."
"You, too," she whispered as soon as the gown was on the floor, but her fingers were already on the elastic of his shorts.
Conscious of his sensitive knees, he flipped to his back and let her ease his shorts down his legs. At the same time he fumbled for the foil packet, even though he hated the thought of even the thinnest barrier between his flesh and her moist warmth.
Somewhere in the distance a night bird called. Nearer, the wind was rushing through the leaves of the trees. The old bed creaked as he rolled her flat against the soft mattress.
Her hands were as eager as his, her palms sliding over his sweat-slick skin, her soft moans firing his blood. Blood engorged his body and pounded in his head.
They exchanged kisses, whispered each other's names, their breathing loud and labored. Her skin was damp where he touched, her hands as busy as his.
When he knew he had no control left, he ignored the pain and the price he would pay tomorrow and hoisted himself over her soft thighs. At some level, he knew his shoulder was screaming a protest, but his mind, his senses, his will were controlled by her moans and her soft sighs and her clinging hands.
Teeth gritted against a need to thrust deep and hard, he eased himself into her, feeling an initial tightness relax gradually until her body accepted his.
He paused, exulting in the feeling of completeness filling him. This was Darcy's warmth surrounding his heated flesh, Darcy's small breasts pressed against his chest, Darcy's sweet soft sighs mingling with the harsh agony of his breathing.
Hot, helpless tears filled his eyes and clogged his throat. Tears he'd once thought impossible. Shutting his eyes, he began to move.
Darcy arched upward, her body quivering, her hands frantic now. On his arms, his shoulders, winding into his hair as he thrust harder and harder.
She was slick, hot, a perfect fit. Concentration knotted his brow and tensed the muscles of his face, but he made himself wait, his senses attuned to the small, intimate sounds that signaled the beginning of her release.
And then she was bucking against his shoulder, her nails raking the bristly hair at the back of his neck. It took more restraint than he thought possible, but still he held back, rocking back and forth inside her until she stiffened one more time. And then she was gasping in shock, her breath hot and moist against his shoulder.
Murmuring her name, he thrust deep, his body driven to the point of pain by the months of self-denial he'd imposed on himself.
Feelings he couldn't immediately identify shook him almost as deeply as the shuddering release. Tender, yet fiercely protective feelings. Possessive, soul-deep feelings that battered at the walls of his deepest instincts to keep a part of himself separate and safe.
Closing his eyes, he eased to his side and held her tightly against him until her frantic breathing gentled and her eyes drifted open.
He shoved one hand under his head and let his gaze play over her face. Her mouth was relaxed and her eyes soft.
"Better this time?"
Darcy heard a rough note of self-doubt buried in the rasping deepness of his tone and smiled. She'd expected a practiced, masterful lover and he'd been that. But he'd also been as emotionally hungry for acceptance as that same lonely boy who'd taken her virginity in less than five desperate minutes.
"You know it was." She traced the slope of his jaw with lazy, relaxed fingertips.
"No, I don't. Not until you tell me."
She moved in his arms until she could see his eyes. Tension still shaped his mouth and lined his forehead. "Are you asking me to rate you as a lover?"
One side of his mouth angled self-consciously. "And leave myself wide open? No way."
Darcy let her lashes drift toward her cheeks again. It was so cozy to be snuggled against a powerful male body again. Judd's body. So natural. Sweet.
"It was wonderful," she murmured, her words slurring languidly as she hovered on the edge of sleep. "Better be careful, or I might just fall in love with you all over again."
* * *
Chapter 11
« ^ »
The sound, of a lawn tractor woke him.
He was lying on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow he was hugging, a pillow that smelled of roses. One leg was crooked, as though it still rested on Darcy's soft white thighs.
The sheets where she'd lain had grown cold. She was long gone, just as he'd known she would be. Being discovered naked in her own bed with a man not her husband wasn't the kind of image a mother wanted to project for her children. And Darcy's children came first. He wasn't about to kid himself on that score. After the kids, well, it just might be a toss-up.
Fully awake now, he sighed and eased from his belly to his side, then paused to let the protesting sections of his body settle down again. Dealing with pain was nothing new, but the physical exertion of making love hadn't done his knees any good. Consequently, sitting up was an exercise in patience. Once he'd managed a semireclining position, he paused.
The sun was shining through the lace curtains, making swirling patterns on his bare chest. The warmth felt good on his skin. Healing. Like Darcy's hands on his body.
He ran a hand over his belly and watched the hair ruffle against his fingers. So she'd watched him swimming, had she? And what had she been thinking when she watched? he wondered. Probably the same thing he'd been thinking when he'd watched her sunning herself outside his window.
Glancing toward the window again, he noted that the sun was already high and the air coming through the crack he'd left between window and sill was warm.
He smiled at the thought of seeing her again. If he played his cards right, he might be able to coax her into taking a day off. To go fishing maybe, down by the gravel pit.
A smile formed in his mind at the thought of being alone with her. And then it occurred to him that she wasn't as free to come and go as he was.
She had a house full of kids she clearly adored, and the enormous responsibilities that went with that. He'd have to be an arrogant fool to bank on walking right in and making himself at home in that life. Or to kid himself into believing that he had more to offer her than a mutually satisfying physical affair.
Still, he thought as he reached for his crutches, a lot of couples he'd known over the years had built a darn good life on great sex.
Judd had just reached the bottom of the stairs and was deciding which way to go when, at the end of the hall, Darcy's office door opened and she walked out, followed by Grant Koch.
Perhaps because it was Saturday, he was dressed casually in perfectly tailored slacks and a pristine white polo shirt bearing the insignia of the county's most e
xclusive country club.
Koch saw Judd first and reacted as though someone had just beaned him with one of his own two-by-fours. Recovering quickly, however, he flashed Judd a quick grin. "Making another safety inspection, Chief?"
"Naw, just visiting."
"Oh? I didn't know you and Darcy were still, uh, friends."
"How do you know I'm not visiting Bridget?"
Koch's practiced cool shook a little before he gave out a hearty guffaw. "That's a good one, Calhoun. I have to give you that one."
"Nice of you, Koch. Nice after-shave, too. Smells expensive."
"It is. I have it made especially for me in Paris." Grant's hand made a quick pass over his already well-brushed razor cut. "If you'd like, I can have the chemist make some for you, too."
"Thanks, but I take so many showers because of my work, I'd probably forget to use it anyway."
Darcy was beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic with two large men all but butting heads in the small foyer. "Thanks for taking the trouble to come all the way out here with those papers, Grant," she interjected smoothly, extending her hand. "I appreciate it."
"No problem, Darcy. I'd do anything for you, you know that."
"That's nice of you to say, but I'll be very happy if you just do your usual good job on my attic."
"You got it, doll face."
He covered her hand with his and squeezed before letting her go. "Well, got to run. Like I said, I'm meeting Tom Billings out at the old Shoemaker farm."
"Yes, to see about subdividing into an industrial park. You told me."
"Oh, did I? Must be getting forgetful in my old age." He shot Judd a man-to-man look of congratulations. "Gotta keep ourselves sharp or the young studs will get ahead of us, right, Calhoun?"
"Me, I'm not competing with anyone," Judd drawled lazily. "It works better that way. Right, Koch?"
"Sure, sure, you're right about that."
"Well, uh, thanks again, Grant," Darcy said, opening the front door wide. "I'll call as soon as I hear from the insurance company on the settlement."
"Right." Still looking reluctant to leave, Koch nodded one final time and left through the door she held open for him.
She waited until Grant climbed into the fancy, chrome-encrusted truck with the company logo on the side, then shut the door firmly before turning around and resting her backside against the walnut.
This time her baggy shirt was decorated with all sizes and shapes of handprints in bright neon colors, each signed in black in the middle. A present from her gang, no doubt.
Her legs and feet were bare, and her hair was tied up in a wild knot on top of her head. She was wearing a trace of makeup, but not enough to completely cover the pink tinge of whisker burn he'd left on her cheeks.
"After-shave?" Her voice was smooth-satin husky.
"Just making conversation, doll face." He propped one crutch against the newel post and set about rolling up his sleeves.
"I'll doll face you," she said, pushing away from the door and going toward him. "And I hate to tell you, but this morning he was wearing something completely different."
"Oh yeah? Does that mean you've ruled him out as a possible suspect?"
"It means, Chiefy, that you're about to be punished for being such a smart ass."
"Chiefy?"
She glanced right and left, saw the coast was clear and wrapped both arms around his neck. "Are you ready to take your punishment?"
Her smile was soft and her sleepy eyes carried memories of their night of loving. If she was having second thoughts, it didn't show. Some of the tension he didn't know he was carrying left his tight muscles. "Fire away."
Going on tiptoe, she lifted her face to his and slowly, gently kissed the corner of his mouth. His mustache tickled and tantalized at the same time, and she grinned.
"Mmm, that wasn't so bad," Judd said with a crooked grin of his own. "As punishments go."
"Oh no?" Her eyes sparkled, and her complexion glowed.
"Nah. You've got a long way to go before you can make the grade as a bully."
Darcy pretended to pout, but in reality she felt as though she were floating a few inches above the ground. "How's this, then?" she murmured before using both hands to tug his head lower.
This time she used her tongue, running it ever so slowly along the straight line of mustache until his mouth opened and his eyes closed.
His free arm found the hollow of her spine and pressed her straining body to the length of him while he tried to capture her mouth with his.
But she was enjoying the chase, turning her mouth away so that his lips—and that bristly, sexy mustache—brushed her cheek.
Bracing both hands on his shoulders, she leaned backward, her belly anchored to his groin by the pressure of his hard forearm, and chided softly, "No, no, no, Chief Calhoun. Your punishment is just to stand there and let me have my will with you. No kissing back."
"Punishment is one thing, Red. Cruel and unusual isn't." His mouth softened in anticipation, and at the juncture of their pressed bodies, his stirred blatantly, sending warm, wonderful prickles of pleasure through her.
"Shut up and take it, tough guy," she murmured before arching upward again.
Her lips explored every inch of his face—his jaw, where her tongue had traced the twin scars riding his jawbone, his nose, where one of the breaks had healed crookedly, his eyebrows, his closed eyelids and, finally, just when he knew he couldn't stand it another split second, his mouth.
Her kiss was sweet, lush with feeling, and yet at the same time fired with passion. The comfortable contented warmth inside him expanded, grew in intensity, flashed into every part of him.
His arms ached to crush her to him, his loins strained, his hardening flesh burned with a need to sink deeply into her.
"God, Red," he gasped out when she paused for air. "Let's go upstairs and finish this there."
She blinked like a drowsy cat and her breathing was far too rapid. A faint soft pink smudged her cheeks below the tiny shadows of her lashes.
"We can't," she said, her voice as breathless as if she'd just run a marathon. "The twins are waiting for us down by the river. Angel is in charge of the poles and Betsy dug the worms. I was just coming to roust you out of bed when I ran into Grant on the front porch."
She grinned, but they were both thinking about the big bed upstairs. "In case you haven't already figured it out, Calhoun, we're going fishing."
They ate homemade coffee cake and drank coffee and juice on a blanket on the gentle slope by the pump house. While the twins fished, Judd and Darcy lay side by side, careful not to touch in deference to the girls, sometimes talking, sometimes not. It was a lazy day and they were both in a lazy mood.
"More coffee?" Darcy murmured, too content to do more than nudge open one eye.
"Thanks, no. Any more and I'll slosh when I walk."
Darcy grinned, but her eyes quickly filled with worry again. "I hope it's going well with Rosie and her father. They haven't seen each other in almost six months."
When Judd had missed the beguiling seven-year-old with the sad-angel smile, Darcy had explained that her father had taken her into Grantley on an outing sanctioned by the Welfare Department.
"How come it's been that long?"
"He's been down in California, looking for work. So far he hasn't had much luck."
"Must be rough, taking in kids you know you'll have to give up someday."
"It's awful, but I knew it would be like that when I decided to take in foster kids."
"Don't tell me you decided to do that just to carry on Kerrigan tradition?"
It took her a moment to realize what he meant. "Not really. When Steve died, I figured I probably wouldn't have any more kids and I wanted the girls to grow up with lots of companions. No doubt because I was an only child and lonely a lot of the time. But we're so isolated out here, and when I read a notice pleading for foster homes, I decided to kill two birds at once. As it were."
"Ver
y efficient."
Darcy swatted at a pesky fly. "That's me. Efficient and organized."
Remembering the look of her bedroom, Judd couldn't help chuckling.
"Watch it, tough guy, or I won't help you back up this bank."
"I didn't say a thing." Feeling better than he should, Judd slitted his eyes and stared at the leafy canopy overhead. The sky was nearly cloudless, the breeze minimal.
Recently cleared of dead blackberry canes, the land had an earthy smell that Judd had always liked. And the dense shade from the towering myrtle trees was soothing, like the deepest corner of the closet where he'd hidden as a kid whenever his old man had started in on his mother about some character imperfection or another.
The river was still swollen by runoff from the Cascades a good fifty miles to the east. Twigs and leaves deposited by the spring rush had collected along the bank and now swam in a small pool of oil, leaked from a passing fisherman's outboard.
The twins, quiet for once, were sitting side by side on a half-buried log overlooking a small eddy. Both were using bamboo poles and barbless hooks, which Judd had baited so many times he'd lost count.
The few fish they'd caught had been too small to keep, so with much lamenting and commiseration, they'd thrown them all back in.
Judd had always done that anyway, although he'd made sure no one had caught him at it. No one but Darcy, that is. Somehow she'd always managed to find out things about him that no one else knew. Probably because no one else had taken the trouble to find out.
Suddenly too restless to lie still, he sat up slowly, crossed his arms over his sore knees and stared at the river.
Yeah, he'd been some tough dude, all right. Bawling his head off for months after his mother had died. Begging his father to let him sign up for Little League so he'd feel like the rest of the guys. Hell, he'd even been proud of all the A's on his report card.
When that hadn't won him more than an absentminded grunt from his old man, he'd taken to doing other things. Forbidden things, shameful things that a man of the cloth couldn't possibly ignore.
Judd crumbled a clod of black clay in his hand and discovered a jagged rock buried beneath the dirt.
FIREBRAND Page 17
