Melt (The Steel Brothers Saga Book 4)

by HELEN HARDT

  She looked distraught. She was wearing a tan dress and black boots, looking luscious as usual. But those beautiful green eyes were red-rimmed and sunken. She’d been crying.

  I walked rapidly to her. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

  She launched herself into my arms.

  “Whoa, baby. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Just take me inside, Jonah, please. I need you.”

  With one hand, I unlocked the door to my place and led her inside. She melded into me, pulled my head to hers, and kissed me, hard.

  I broke the kiss quickly. “Baby, I’m a mess. Let me take a shower first.”

  “I don’t care. I need you. Now.” She took the Stetson off my head and set it on the table in my entryway. Then she began to unbutton my shirt.

  I was grimy with sweat, and I didn’t even want to think about what I smelled like. But nothing deterred her. When she had unfastened each button, she parted the fabric and laid her cheek against my chest.

  She inhaled. “I love the way you smell.”

  I chuckled. “I probably smell like sweat and cattle.”

  “I don’t care. It’s wonderful.” She inhaled again, closing her eyes. She brushed my brown shirt over my shoulders and to the floor and then sprinkled a few kisses on my sweaty skin. “You have the most beautiful chest. You’re just so beautiful, Jonah.”

  I pulled slightly back from her, meeting her emerald gaze. “You’re the one who’s beautiful. Tell me what’s going on, sweetheart. How can I help?”

  “You can take me to bed.”

  I grinned. “There’s nothing I’d love more, but I really do need a shower.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re so rugged and musky right now. So manly. So very manly.” She inhaled again. “You’re exactly what I need. All man.”

  I wasn’t sure that being sweaty and dirty made me all man, but I wasn’t about to argue with her.

  “Please, Jonah, take me to your bedroom.”

  “All right.” I took her hand and began leading her down the hall, but when we got to the entryway kitchen, she stopped.

  “I’ve never done it in the kitchen,” she said.

  “You haven’t?”

  She smiled timidly. “I’ve always been kind of a ‘bed only’ person. I had never done it in my office or in my living room until you.”

  I raised my brows without meaning to. Was she really that innocent? Of course she was. She didn’t even like the occasional slap and tickle.

  But things could change.

  Things would change.

  “You’re in luck,” I said. “My housekeeper was here this morning, so everything is spic and span and sanitary. What’s your pleasure?”

  She looked around. “This is a beautiful kitchen. You must be a great cook.”

  I laughed. “Are you kidding? Marjorie is the cook in the family. I have a personal chef who comes in once a week and prepares and freezes meals for me. I think tonight is beef stroganoff.”

  “Still, it’s a gorgeous kitchen. Nothing like that tiny galley kitchen of mine.” She scanned the room, zeroing in on the island. “Your granite countertops are gorgeous.”

  “You’re gorgeous.” I backed her up against the island, turned her around, and unzipped her dress. Then I slid it over her shoulders, breasts, and hips. I turned her back to face me.

  “Beige cotton bra and panties again, Melanie?” I licked my lips. “Lace and silk certainly has its place, but nobody does cotton like you.”

  She reddened, biting that gorgeous lower lip of hers. “I guess I’ve just never been the extravagant type. These do the job, and they’re affordable. And quite frankly they’re a lot more comfortable than all that lace.”

  I grinned from ear to ear. “My God, you’re adorable.” I set her up on the counter.

  She squealed when her thighs hit the cold granite.

  I relieved her of her boots and spread her legs. “You’re wet. I can smell you.”

  She reddened even further and continued to squirm.

  “I could rip the cotton panties off you like the other night. What a shame that would be. Then I would owe you two pairs of panties. And I always pay my debts.” I slipped one of her bra straps off her shoulder, inhaling the lavender of her neck. “And Melanie,” I whispered in her ear, “I won’t be buying beige cotton.”

  Definitely not. Satin and lace for Melanie Carmichael—green or black or—God—purple. She’d be great in purple.

  She moaned when I thrust my tongue into her ear canal.

  “You like that?” I asked.

  She shuddered. “Oh, yes.”

  I plunged into her ear again, letting her squirm, and then I nibbled on her earlobe, swirled my tongue over the shell of her ear. I blew on the wetness. She shuddered some more.

  I pulled back then, looking into her green eyes. “I’m hungry. I’m having you for lunch.”

  I dived between her legs, finding my wet prize. She smelled and tasted sweeter than cherry wine. “God, you are so hot,” I said against her thigh.

  I shoved my tongue into her wet heat, slurping on her, eating her cream. Then I nibbled at her clit, and she shivered, her thighs trembling against my cheek.

  She was ready. She was ready to come. So I thrust two fingers into her pussy, and she clamped around me. I reveled in her response, taking in every sigh, every moan, every sob.

  “You like that, baby?”

  She moaned in response and arched her back, her eyes closed.

  I continued thrusting, flicking my tongue over her clit, until another orgasm started.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Let it go.”

  As I said those last words, I understood why she was here. She had to let go of something. But I knew all too well that this was only a temporary escape. We would have to talk later.

  I thrust one more time, and then I let her come down from her release. I stood, pulling her toward me, and lowered my mouth to hers.

  “Kiss me,” I said. “Kiss me and taste yourself on my tongue.”

  She moaned into my mouth, opening for me instantly. Our tongues whirled and swirled together. Her kisses were addictive, raw and addictive. I couldn’t wait any longer to have her. I slid one hand down her arm, down her thigh, to my crotch. God, I was hard. I unbuckled my belt and unsnapped my jeans, pushing them down just far enough for my cock to spring free. Still kissing her, I thrust violently into her pussy.

  Her soft groan vibrated against the inside of my cheeks and my tongue.

  I broke the kiss to take a necessary breath. “You like that, sweetheart? You like my hard cock in your hot pussy?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her breath wafting over my cheeks like a cool breeze. “I love it. I love it.”

  Love. She hadn’t said she loved me, but hearing that word from her lips sent warmth right into my heart.

  Was I falling in love with Melanie Carmichael? Could she possibly be falling in love with me?

  Sex had never been so intense for me, even though she hadn’t let me do everything I longed to do to her in the bedroom. But sex wasn’t love. Even really good sex wasn’t love. Was it?

  Hell, I knew nothing about love. Until I worked through the guilt that hung over me like a vulture, I had no business loving anyone.

  But God, something about Melanie Carmichael made me crazy. When I had seen that friend of hers, that Oliver, with his mouth on her, I had wanted to grab him with my bare hands and strangle the life right out of him.

  I thrust again and again into her. When the tiny convulsions began in my balls and at the base of my dick, I pulled out and thrust one more time into the woman who had come to mean so much to me. I groaned against her, releasing my load, seating myself to the hilt until the spasms finally stopped.

  When I withdrew, her head was back, her eyes closed.

  “Baby? You okay?”

  “Yes.” She brought her head up and met my gaze. “Yes, I’m okay.”

  I grinned. “In that case, I think we both need a
shower now.”

  She grinned back.

  Chapter Twenty–Six

  Melanie

  Jonah led me to his bedroom and through it to a decadent shower and bathroom. Showerheads came from both sides, and when he turned it on, steam rose from faucets on the side of the wall. I was wearing nothing but my bra, and he divested me of it quickly and then took care of his boots, jeans, and boxers.

  He opened the door to the shower. “After you.”

  I walked in and inhaled the fragrant steam. Lavender. “My favorite fragrance,” I said. “How did you know?”

  “I kind of got the message, since you always smell like lavender and you have a lavender plant on your nightstand.”

  “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who has lavender essential oil lying around.”

  “You got me.” He laughed. “Actually, I have lavender, peppermint, and eucalyptus. They were gifts from Marjorie. She got into essential oils a year or so ago and was convinced that the three of us guys needed their healing properties. I admit this is the first time I’ve used them.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to know they came to good use.” I inhaled again. “The next time you have a cold or any kind of congestion, try the eucalyptus and peppermint. They work wonders.”

  “And what’s the lavender for?”

  I inhaled again. “Relaxation. Pure, solid relaxation.”

  God knew I needed that. Lavender had always been a favorite fragrance of mine, but the fact that it had relaxation properties made me love it even more. I hadn’t been able to relax much since Gina’s death.

  Jonah walked under the other shower head and wet his hair down so it was slicked back. “Oh,” he groaned. “It feels great.”

  It did feel great. He pulled a bottle of shampoo off the shelf and squeezed some into his palm, working it into a lather. Then he put it on his head and started soaping up. I reached forward and added my hands to his, massaging his scalp along with him.

  “That feels amazing, Melanie.”

  It felt amazing to me, too, just having my hands in his thick, wet hair. After we had lathered him up thoroughly, he turned around and rinsed his hair.

  I grabbed the body wash from the shelf. I began soaping up his back, down to his strong hips, over his finely shaped butt.

  He turned. “Time to get my chest.”

  I lathered my hands once more and skated them over his beautiful chest and rock-hard abs, down into his pubic hair, where I soaped up his cock and balls.

  He closed his eyes and then stepped back under the shower head and rinsed off.

  “Your turn now,” he said.

  “I had a shower this morning.”

  “After that hot sex we had in the kitchen, you’re as dirty as I am. I’m going to wash you until you’re squeaky clean.”

  I closed my eyes and smiled. “That sounds like heaven, to be honest.”

  Together, we washed my hair as we had washed his, and then he cleansed my body, running his strong hands over every inch of my flesh.

  I nearly melted. If I’d been any more relaxed, I would’ve swirled down the shower drain with the water.

  When we were done, he grabbed some towels off the rack, shut off the shower, and we dried each other.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked.

  “Maybe just some water or iced tea, if you have it.”

  He pulled on a pair of boxers. “I do. I’ll be right back.”

  I finished drying off and then wrapped the towel around me. I left the bathroom and looked around his bedroom. It was beautifully decorated but completely masculine. His king-size bed sported a brass headboard and footboard, and upon it sat a dark-brown satin comforter with pillow shams to match.

  His chest and dresser were of a dark oak, complete with knots. So rustic. So Jonah. The floor was all hardwood, covered by a burgundy, hunter-green, and brown Oriental rug in an ornate design.

  A door led to a giant walk-in closet, and I couldn’t help but peek in. A few rumpled shirts were strewn on the floor. He had missed the hamper that was only two feet away. I smiled. Typical man. I quickly deposited the errant shirts into the wooden hamper.

  His shirts and pants were hung up neatly, jeans were folded nicely on the shelf, and his shoes were stacked on shelves, including oversize ones for several pairs of cowboy boots.

  A throat cleared behind me.

  I turned, embarrassed. I had been violating his personal space. I walked out of the closet. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For…nosing around your closet.” I looked around the room again. “This is a gorgeous bedroom.”

  “It serves its purpose,” he said.

  “How big is this house?”

  “About three thousand square feet.”

  I gasped.

  “It’s a lot smaller than the house where Talon and Marj live. That’s the main house, where our parents lived. Where we lived when we were growing up.”

  “So why don’t you live there?”

  He shrugged. “I just wanted my own place. A place where I could escape. I wanted my own pool, where I could swim whenever I wanted, even in the dead of night, without anyone questioning me.”

  “That’s right. You like your alone time. And you like the water.”

  He nodded. “In fact, I could go for a swim now. Would you like to join me?”

  “Is it warm enough?” Colorado Indian summers were typical, but I wasn’t sure whether it was hot enough to be dousing ourselves in water outdoors. We were nearing October.

  “The pool’s heated, and if you get too cold, we can get into the hot tub instead.” He handed me a glass of iced tea.

  I took the tea and sipped it—nice, crisp, and tannic under my tongue. I looked down at the towel that was still wrapped around me. “I don’t have a suit.”

  “This is my private home. Who needs suits?” He grinned at me lasciviously.

  My cheeks warmed, and I looked down. My chest was turning ruddy.

  “No need to be embarrassed, Melanie. In case you forgot, I’ve seen you naked a time or two.”

  I laughed softly. Why on Earth was I embarrassed? “We just took a shower. We’ll get all covered in chlorine.”

  “Are you allergic to chlorine or something?”

  “No. But it does dry out my skin.”

  “Well, you know what the weirdest thing about my shower is?” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “We can use it more than once a day.” He took my hand, squeezing it. “Come on. I want to show you my pool.”

  “I can’t go out in the towel.”

  He walked to his closet and brought out a silk robe. “You can wear this.”

  He helped me into the black satiny garment. It was horribly large on me, but the fabric felt cool and soft against my skin. I inhaled. It smelled like Jonah. It smelled like heaven.

  “Now what are you going to wear?”

  “I’ve got my boxers on. I’m good.”

  I laughed. A good hearty laugh, a laugh like I hadn’t laughed in a long time. And it felt so good.

  “All right, Jonah. Lead me to your pool.”

  We walked down the carpeted hallway, through the kitchen, to a lovely little family area complete with bar. Two gorgeous French doors opened out onto the redwood patio.

  And a huge yard. A panting golden retriever ran up to us.

  “Hey, girl,” Jonah said, petting the dog on the head. “Meet a good friend of mine. Melanie, this is Lucy.”

  Lucy licked my hand. She was beautiful. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

  “Oh, yeah. All three of us do. We love animals around here.”

  A cobblestone walkway led to his pool. Lucy walked next to me, her soft fur brushing my leg. A light breeze was blowing, but I wasn’t chilly. Still, I thought it might be a little too cold for swimming.

  As if reading my mind, Jonah said, “Dip your toe in. You’ll see. It’s a great temperature.”

 
; I did as he suggested, and sure enough, the water was pleasantly warm.

  “I swim every morning, even in the dead of winter if I can get out here. As long as we’re not snowed in, I swim.”

  “You mean the water doesn’t freeze?”

  “When it gets really cold, I cover the pool at night, but remember, it’s heated. So, no, the water doesn’t freeze.”

  I didn’t even want to think about the electric bill…but Jonah Steel wasn’t the kind of man who had to worry about bills.

  “I keep my hot tub up and running year-round as well. And Melanie, there is nothing like sitting in a hot tub, with a martini, while snow is falling around you.”

  I created a visual in my mind as I looked over at the hot tub sunken into the ground next to Jonah’s pool. Would I ever sit in the hot tub during a snowfall with Jonah?

  Right then, I wanted to more than anything in the world.

  “So you feel like a swim?”

  “I’m not a great swimmer,” I said. “I mean, I know enough not to drown, but I won’t win any medals. I mostly just splash around a little.”

  “That’s absolutely fine. Here, let me help you.” He untied the oversize silk robe at my waist, shoved it over my shoulders, and set it neatly on a nearby chaise longue.

  “So is the water to your liking?”

  “Yeah, feels great.”

  He licked his lips, grinning. “Good.” And he pushed me into the water.

  Chapter Twenty–Seven

  Jonah

  I hoped I hadn’t gone too far, but within a few seconds, Melanie’s blond head bobbed up, and she had a smile on her face.

  I wondered, then, when was the last time she’d had any fun. Real honest to goodness fun.

  And I wondered if it had been before or after I had.

  We were both severely lacking in fun in our lives.

  I’d make today about fun. I’d set aside the guilt that normally ruled my life and concentrate on Melanie and having fun with her. We could both use it.

  I removed my boxers quickly and dived in. When I came up, Melanie was treading water, still smiling.