by Cat Schield
Knowing it would be supremely reckless to bait him further, Lark retreated. To her dismay, her knees had developed a perilous wobble and she had to sit on her bed for two minutes before she felt steady enough to dress. Slipping into jeans and a bulky sweater, she returned to the kitchen in time to help Keaton dish up the meal.
“This looks amazing,” she said, hoping some mundane conversation would disperse the last bit of tension between them. “What is it?”
“Chicken covered in mayo and shredded Parmesan cheese. I saw the recipe on a commercial and it seemed easy enough.”
“You are a man of many surprises,” she murmured, carrying their plates to the dining room. Glancing over to where Grace slept in her swing, Lark realized the chance of distractions during the meal was low. She sat down and smiled up at Keaton as he topped off her wineglass. “You know, I think I’ve used this dining table more since you moved in than in the two years I’ve owned the house.”
“Where do you usually eat?”
“At the breakfast bar.” She smoothed her napkin across her lap, avoiding looking at Keaton.
Tonight he’d substituted a long-sleeve Henley in dark gray for his usual cotton button-downs. The knit material clung to his wide shoulders and highlighted his sculpted chest muscles. Heat flooded her cheeks as she recalled the solid wall of his torso pressed against her the last time they’d kissed. A five-foot-ten-inch girl with substantial curves would be crazy not to swoon over a man who was strong enough to manhandle her and smart enough to know when she wanted him to and when she didn’t.
So far Keaton was that guy. He’d demonstrated both passion and restraint. If only his last name wasn’t Holt.
“My mother called tonight. She and my dad are coming back to town in a few days,” Keaton began, appearing oblivious of her musing.
What a relief. Usually he demonstrated an unsettling ability to read her thoughts and anticipate her needs.
“That’s nice.”
“Mom wondered if they could come over and spend some time with Grace. I thought maybe a family dinner?”
The word family gave her a jolt. Did he want her there? Or would he choose a night when she was working?
“Sure.”
“You’re off Wednesday, right?”
“I am.” The strength of her relief speared through Lark, shocking her. “That should work great.”
“And I don’t want you to worry about dinner. I thought we’d fix steaks and keep things simple.”
“I don’t own a barbecue,” Lark reminded him.
“That’s okay. I’ve got it taken care of.”
Taken care of how?
“Having your parents over for dinner is a great idea,” she said. “They deserve to get to know their granddaughter.” If only her parents were so inclined. “And thank you for asking me.”
He didn’t look at all chastened by her subtle reproof.
“Of course. It’s your house.”
He had to be kidding. Irritation flared. “That hasn’t slowed you down thus far.”
“I know I should have told you my plans for fixing up Grace’s nursery,” he said, returning to the disagreement they’d been having earlier. “But see it from my perspective. When Grace sleeps in your bedroom, I’m not able to do my fair share.” He lowered his lids to half-mast and peered at her from beneath his lush lashes. “Unless, of course, you want me in your bedroom late at night.”
She couldn’t restrain the grin that tugged at her lips. “Stop trying to distract me from being annoyed with you.”
“I’m not trying to distract you, I’m simply pointing out the reality of our current situation.” Keaton rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward, his expression earnest. “I’m not going to pretend I understand what you’re going through. With Skye in a coma and Grace’s health a constant concern, you’ve got to be consumed with anxiety. All I’m trying to do is take some of the burden off your shoulders. Let me help.”
Lark drew a shaky breath. With her stomach in knots she’d lost her appetite. “It’s just so hard to let go. I keep worrying that she’ll need me and I won’t be there.”
“Remember that she was on her own in the NICU for the first twelve weeks of her life.”
“I know, but that makes me all the more determined to keep her close.”
“And I’ll be right next door with the baby monitor on my nightstand.”
She knit her fingers together in her lap and struggled to overcome her compulsion to control every aspect of Grace’s well-being. “Let’s start tomorrow. Give me the night to get used to the idea.”
Keaton nodded. “That sounds good.”
“And if she hates being all by herself, we go back to what we’ve been doing.”
“With one difference.” Keaton picked up his fork and speared a broccoli floret. “I will be visiting your bedroom every two or three hours throughout the night.”
* * *
Keaton lay on the bed in Lark’s guest room, his hands behind his head, his feet crossed at the ankle, and stared at the dark ceiling. Even though it was Lark’s night to get up with Grace, he couldn’t sleep. Over the last few days he’d grown accustomed to his niece’s schedule and woken every few hours just as she was beginning to stir. He glanced at the clock and decided to get up and get a bottle started. Maybe if he could catch Grace before she made a sound, he could give Lark a few more hours to rest.
For a man who spent his days directing the operations of an extensive ranch and getting dirty on occasion working alongside his hands, he was rather surprised how well he’d managed with Grace. Everything about her was so tiny it had taken him forever to master slipping on her doll-sized socks and days before he was completely confident in his ability to change her diaper and dress her without worrying that he might accidentally be too rough with her.
Each time she focused her gaze on his face, his heart took a severe hit for his absent brother. Jake was missing so much. And then there was Skye, still locked in a coma. There were so many firsts they both were missing.
Right on cue, Grace was beginning to wake up when he entered the nursery. He immediately turned down the baby monitor so if she did make a sound, Lark wouldn’t hear. Pleased with his timing, Keaton lifted the infant into his arms and settled into the rocking chair he’d bought. As soon as he brought the bottle to her lips, Grace latched on and began sucking with enthusiasm.
“Hungry little thing, aren’t you?”
It pleased him how the baby was thriving. Tomorrow was her first wellness check since leaving the hospital. He and Lark had agreed to go together, and if all went well, they were going to attempt an early dinner out. That should start the tongue-wagging, he thought, remembering how getting caught having dinner together had led to Jake and Skye running away from Royal. But then, they’d been in love. He and Lark were simply co-babysitting.
Yet if that was all it was, why did his thoughts circle back to her all day and much of the night? Getting up to feed or change Grace hadn’t been much of a hardship since his sleep was all messed up by the temptation of her sleeping twenty feet away. Nor could he get out of his head the night she’d picked a fight over the nursery while wearing nothing more than a robe. Did she have any idea how close she’d come to driving him over the edge?
By the time Keaton resettled Grace in her crib and watched her fall asleep, his own exhaustion had caught up with him. But he knew it was nothing compared to how Lark must be feeling.
“Is something wrong with Grace?” Lark’s soft voice, tense and filled with concern, came from the doorway behind him.
“She’s fine,” he reassured her, pitching his volume equally low. Turning his head in her direction, he caught her staring at him in dismay. What would it take for her to stop worrying so much?
“Why are you up, then?”
“I was awake and figured you could use the sleep.” Since she seemed to be unable to shake her doubts, he held out his hand and beckoned her close. “She’s all right, re
ally.”
Once she’d seen for herself that Grace was sleeping peacefully, Lark heaved a huge sigh. Then her attention shifted to him and her gaze sharpened.
“You aren’t wearing a shirt.”
He glanced down at his bare chest, unsure what to make of the accusation in her voice. “I don’t usually wear one to bed.”
“But you’re not in bed.”
“Obviously.”
Since she seemed determined to pursue the odd conversation, he decided they’d be better off having it where they wouldn’t disturb Grace. Taking Lark by the arm, he escorted her out of the nursery and deposited her stiff form in the middle of the living room.
“I’ve got everything under control. Go back to bed.”
“It’s my night to take care of her.” Her lower lip jutted out, making her look like an adorable toddler in a temper.
Keaton set his hands on his hips above the waistband of his pajama bottoms, and struggled not to grin at how cute she looked. “I promise to sleep as soundly as a hibernating bear tomorrow. Now go to bed.”
“Damn it, Keaton, you can’t tell me what to do.” She was in a transfixed stupor, staring at his half-naked form.
Again he glanced down at himself, wondering what she found so utterly fascinating. Then he looked at her.
Lark wore pale blue, long-sleeve pajamas that covered her from neck to ankle. Modest in fit, they still managed to accent the provocative swell of her substantial breasts and failed to hide the tightening of her nipples against the soft fabric.
His body came to life with such ferocity he almost groaned. “You should listen to me when I’m giving you good advice,” he growled, unsure how much longer he could keep his hands off her.
She tipped her head back and met his gaze. Her eyes were clear, the look in them bold. “What makes your advice so great?”
“It will keep me from doing something that won’t make you very happy.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Like what?”
Sexual tension flared between them at her defiant tone.
“Like this.” Plagued by too many long nights of temptation and incensed that she’d dared him to act, Keaton seized the edges of her pajama top and tore it open. Buttons flew in all directions. Shocked by the ferocity of the desire she aroused in him, Keaton froze.
They were both breathing hard, but the ragged rise and fall of their chests was the only movement. Keaton searched Lark’s stunned expression and waited for her to speak, to yell at him for stepping across the line.
Her hand came up, but not to slap him. She slid her palm up his chest, the caress brimming with sensual intent, and tunneled her fingers into his hair. Rising on tiptoe, she pressed her bare breasts against his chest and slid her cheek against his.
“Kiss me.”
His lips were halfway to hers when she spoke the words.
This was no tentative, exploratory kiss. Lark’s mouth was open and eager as he claimed it. He wasted no energy on preliminaries, just plunged his tongue deep, and was rewarded by the ardent thrust of her pelvis against his growing erection. Her moan made his head spin.
Leaving one hand to cup her head, he let the other skim down her back. He savored every curve and dip as her skin slipped like silk beneath his questing fingers. When he reached the waistband of her pajama bottoms, he hesitated only briefly before diving beneath. The fullness of her butt was a temptation he could no longer resist. They groaned in unison as he filled his palm with her flesh, fitting her more firmly against his raging hardness.
If he didn’t get her naked soon, he was going to descend into madness. Or perhaps he’d already plunged down the rabbit hole. He was fast losing track of which way was up, and when Lark stroked him through the cotton fabric covering his erection, he shuddered. She touched him with more curiosity than eroticism, but the contact was earth-shattering. With only a matter of moments before he could no longer stand, he eased down on one knee. Bracketing her lush hips between his hands to hold her still, he placed his lips against her flat stomach between her rib cage and belly button.
She quivered as he kissed a path across her abdomen and smoothed her hand across his shoulders. He needed a moment to gather himself for what came next. At long last, confident that he was ready, Keaton set his forehead against her body and spoke.
“If you go back to bed right now, we can both pretend that this was nothing more than an incredibly realistic dream.”
Fabric whispered through the air as it fell to the floor. Seconds later Lark guided his hands up her body. Understanding what she wanted, he cupped her breasts, marveling at their perfection. The hardness of her nipples fascinated him. Her breath caught as he gave them a light pinch. She was so incredibly sensitive. He couldn’t wait to make her body sing.
Eager to begin, Keaton lowered her to the carpet unable to make the long trek to her bedroom. As soon as her back met the floor, he moved over her, capturing her lips in a slow, drugging kiss. Her hands moved down his back, nails digging in, as he released her mouth to suck gently at the spot where her neck and shoulder met.
Beneath him her hips shifted restlessly, inciting his passion with each thrust against his overly stimulated flesh. Breathless, he licked his way down her chest and sucked her nipple into his mouth, distracting her momentarily. He brought his hand up to knead her other breast, and a soft mewling sound broke from her lips. Smiling, he used tongue and teeth to keep her attention fixed where he wanted it, but he underestimated her—she wasn’t willing to be a passive participant.
Before he knew what she was up to, she’d spread her legs and tugged the waistband of his pajamas down past his hips. In an instant he was pressed against the heat between her thighs, the only barrier between them her pajama bottoms.
She slid her hand between their bodies and found him. The sensation of her bare skin on his hot shaft was too much for his willpower to bear. Keaton slid down her body, breaking contact. He trembled in the aftermath of what could have been a very quick end to their foreplay and trailed his mouth across her stomach. She lifted her hips to aid him in stripping her bare and he smiled as his lips dipped into the hollow near her hip. With her pants no longer in his way, he shifted his shoulders between her knees and gathered her butt in his hands.
“Keaton?”
It was all she managed before he put his mouth against her hot, sweet center.
Seven
With his tongue trailing fire around and over the most sensitive part of her body, Lark arched her back and quaked with pleasure unlike any she’d ever known. Keaton’s mastery stole her voice and rendered her muscles useless. Her entire world became his mouth and the rapid building of pressure centered between her thighs.
He seemed to understand exactly what drove her wild. His touch was both clever and commanding. She rose higher and higher. An unbridled moan grew in her throat, the rumble vibrating through her as her orgasm built. It was crazy how fast and hard she was coming. She tried to slow it down, to linger in the moment, but Keaton slid two fingers inside her and touched a spot that sent her off like a rocket.
Blind and deaf, she shook with the intensity of her climax. For several heartbeats time stopped and she floated. Then she crashed back into her body and gasped.
“That was amazing.”
Keaton kissed her stomach. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
He lay between her thighs, with most of his weight supported on his arms, and watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, a half smile on his gorgeous lips.
“You look awfully pleased with yourself.”
“Any time a man can get a woman to come like that, he has a right to feel smug.”
“Is that so?” Before he guessed her intention, Lark wrapped her thighs around his waist and used the element of surprise to knock him off balance.
With Keaton flat on his back, she took a second to appreciate the width of his chest and all the fine muscles that made up the ridges of his abdomen. She drew her fingers over his collarbone and across his pecs to the f
lat disks of his nipples. He shuddered as she scraped her nails over them and with that her confidence ballooned.
Behind her, Keaton’s erection bumped against her lower back. She reached for it and watched his eyes widen as she cupped him lightly. Immediately a familiar hum began below her belly button. She rocked her hips in a gentle arc. The motion stirred her body back to wakefulness, making her smile.
“What are you thinking about?” Keaton asked, cupping her breasts in firm fingers.
Lark pushed into his touch and gripped him more firmly. “I’m thinking that I’ve never been with anyone that makes me feel the way you do.”
“And what way is that?”
“Like I’m hungry all the time. When I’m in the same room with you, all I can think about is this.” She moved her fingers in provocative swirls, and Keaton’s face screwed up as if in pain. “How it would feel to have you inside me.”
She leaned forward and kissed him sweetly on the mouth. Her tongue licked along the seam of his lips, tasting the lingering flavor of her arousal, and when he parted for her, it dipped in to tease and tantalize.
When Keaton cupped her face and deepened the kiss, she let him. Her hunger spiked, driven to new heights by the passionate bite of Keaton’s fingers and the ferocity of his kiss. Soon she knew she needed him to fill her. She broke free of Keaton’s mouth and gasped in a great lungful of air. At the same time she shifted so the tip of his erection nudged at her, eager for what she offered.
With a sharp curse Keaton caught her hips in a firm grip. “Wait. We need protection.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay.”
“Are you on something?”
“No, but I’m at a safe point in my cycle.” She pried his hands off her and with a whooshing exhale, took him in.
An exclamation of surprise burst from her. She’d known he was big, but she wasn’t prepared for the reality of how completely he filled her. “Wow.”
