Most nights, when the memories were more than he could bear, he’d play all night beneath the stars. Music eased his soul and kept some part of him alive. Eric Clapton said it all. Jackson sat on the steps and began playing “Tears in Heaven,” so low the sound was a whispered prayer in the night, for only in music could he let go of the pain in his soul.
He wasn’t sure how many hours he’d played that song, but a quiet sniffle from the door interrupted his reverie. He looked up to see Nan standing in the moonlight, her wild hair a dark swath against her creamy skin and the white of the sheet from his bed. He didn’t need to see the tears in her eyes to know they were there. “Why are you crying?”
“The song. It reaches into the soul and connects.”
“Yeah, it does.” The song connected inside of him, and kept him with the living. That she picked up on its depth connected them. The moment hung soft and sweet in the air, and her as yet unspoken questions fell as thick as the dew on an early summer morning.
Damn. He didn’t want her questions, because he had no answers he was willing to give. What he carried inside him was his own private hell and nothing less than he deserved. He didn’t want her pity. He wanted her hot and wild and he wanted to be deep inside her. For in those few moments of pleasure, he could forget his pain. He could forget the anger and self-loathing raging inside him.
Setting the guitar aside, he stood and walked to her then picked up a corner of the sheet and gave it a little tug. “Let go,” he said gruffly. “I want to see you naked in the moonlight. Outside, right here beneath the morning stars.”
“Outside?”
He heard the excitement in her gasp and his groin tightened in response. The night he’d found her nicely laid against the hood of his truck had lingered in his mind and suddenly he knew what he wanted. He caught the sheet as she slowly released it. For a few minutes he just admired the shadow of her womanly body touched by the streams of moonlight. “Don’t move,” he ducked inside and snatched a condom. Then he went back to her. Scooping her up, he walked from the cover of the porch.
“Where are we going, Jack? Are you sure nobody passes by?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Close your eyes and relax. Don’t peek. I want you to tell me what you feel and I’ll tell you what I see. Can you do that?”
“I can try. What do you have in mind?”
“Trust me,” he murmured. Seeing Nan shut her eyes had to be the biggest turn on he’d ever gotten. He reached the hood of his truck in three strides. “I’m going to set you on your feet a minute. Don’t move and don’t peek.”
“Okay.”
He spread the sheet over the hood and then he picked Nan up and set her on it.
“When am I supposed to start telling you how I feel?’
“Now, sugar,” he said inserting himself between her legs.
“Well, the grass was wet and tickled my feet. Beneath my bottom I feel a damp sheet over cool metal. I feel you in front of me. I feel your jeans against the inside of my legs. So, I’m naked and you’re not, right?”
“Yeah, can you picture it in your mind? All your sweet nudity silvery in the moonlight and I’m half dressed. Doesn’t that make you feel a little bit naughty?” He leaned forward and kissed her lips before she could answer.
“Yes.”
“Does it feel good?”
“Yes.”
“It’s going to feel even better.” He cupped her breasts and teased her responsive nipples, enjoying their softness beneath his molding fingers. “I see your breasts. They’re rounded and just right to fill my palms. I see you arch to me, and the pleasure of my touch.”
“I, uh, I feel the heat of your hands. I feel excited when you touch me, when your rougher skin caresses mine.”
He leaned over and sucked on a nipple.
“Ah, I feel fire. A smooth fire that makes me burn.”
He did the same to her other breast, laving and plucking until she placed her hands on the hood of the truck and completely arched her back to offer him more. “I see a woman so damn beautiful in her need that no artist could ever capture her essence. I see your breasts aching for my touch; you’re lifting them to me. I like it. Lay back, Nan. Lay all the way back.”
She did as he asked and he stepped back to view her. “Move your arms out to the side and let your legs relax, sugar. Open them just a little wider for me.”
“I, um, feel the cool night air all over, but I still feel hot. I feel strange.”
“I see a woman ripe and open for loving. Do you know what that does to a man?” Her breasts jiggled as she sucked in a breath.
“No.”
“It makes him burn, sugar. I can see your heart beating in the pulse at your throat. I can see your breasts move as your lungs fight for air in your excitement. I can see the triangle of dark hair between your legs and your sex open and waiting for me. It makes me want to be and do everything. Do you want that from me, Nan?”
“I’m not sure. I feel vulnerable.”
He moved up and slid his hands down her calves, pushing her legs open enough to place a kiss on the inside of her thigh. “You like that, sugar?”
“Yes.”
He kissed several places higher. “How about that?”
“Yes, oh, yes. That’s so smooth, makes me want more—more of your touch, more of the pleasure of your mouth.”
“There’s more. Lots more.” He pushed her legs apart, and kissed her feminine flesh until she writhed.
“Jack, oh, Jack. I need you inside.”
“Soon, sugar.” He tightened his grip on her hips and held her prisoner to his loving until she arched and shuddered, crying his name to the stars.
By the time she stilled, Jackson thought his erection was going to bust right through his jeans. He reached down, popped open the button, and slid down the zipper. A sigh of relief escaped him as his throbbing penis sprang free of its confines.
“Let me.” Nan moaned and tried to sit up to reach him.
“Let me,” he said. “Just turn over and relax for the ride. I’ve been thinking about doing this since I found you bottoms up on my truck’s hood.”
“You sure?”
“Lady, count on it.” Jackson helped her turn over then rolled on the condom and gently eased her down until he smoothly slid inside her. As he thrust in and pulled out, she moaned and her muscles tightened lovingly about him. Pure pleasure washed over him like a benediction from heaven. He’d thought God had forsaken him into an eternal hell until he’d made love to Nan for the first time. And now that he was making love to her again, he could feel the heavens open up for him. He pushed harder and higher until she cried out again and again as her sheath spasmed around his dick, sucking him beyond all control. The orgasm ripping through him thrust him to a new plateau and staked a claim on ground he never meant to explore as his heart squeezed tight. He picked her up and cradled her in his arms as he carried her back to bed. Making love to Nan was messing with his mind.
CHAPTER TEN
The early morning sun dappled through the oak leaves and dotted flecks of gold across the rippling creek. Nan lay back upon the old quilt Jackson had spread along the grassy bank. She couldn’t remember ever getting up and doing nothing but enjoying the breeze in the air and the warmth of the sun. She always had something planned, something on her daily agenda to do. Were she at home right now, she’d be cleaning out a closet, or organizing a drawer, or clipping coupons, anything to keep her life moving opposite the direction she’d grown up.
Jackson slid the basket of food they’d brought from the back of his motorcycle. He’d been quiet this morning, sort of withdrawn, which made for an odd morning after. And she couldn’t seem to forget the raw pain she’d heard in his voice when he sang so quietly on the porch last night.
“What?” Jackson stopped at the end of the blanket. “You’re looking at me as if you’ve lost your best friend.”
Nan shook her head and forced a smile on her face. “Hearing you sing last night. I j
ust wondered why you chose that song?”
Jackson focused on the basket in his hand as he set it down. When he looked up he had a casual grin on his face. “Didn’t you know Eric Clapton is a guitar player’s god? I play a lot of his stuff. It’s a beautiful song.”
Nan sighed. Instinctively she knew there was more behind what she heard last night. “It’s a moving song and you sang it with heart.”
“I strive to please my fans. Where are the strawberries and cream? I’m starving.” He reached for the basket.
Nan snatched it away. “I’m starving, too. You might just have to fight me for them.” She reached into the basket and started setting the stuff out.
Jackson stretched out on the blanket and shut his eyes.
“What? Are you giving up without a fight?”
“Nah, I’m planning my strategy. I have the champagne.” He held up the bottle. “And as I see it, we have breakfast this morning because I put the stuff in the fridge last night. You owe me.”
“Hmm.” Nan took a bite of cheese. The champagne would be good. She didn’t think she had ever indulged herself so much before. She remembered last night and a blush heated her cheeks. She looked Jackson over, the dark shadow of his beard, the long wave of his hair, the sensual curve of his lips, and the capable way he moved his hands. No, she’d never been so wild, nor had she ever had such sensual excitement and fulfillment. “Okay. I’ll trade you ten strawberries and five pieces of cheese for a glass of champagne.”
Jackson lifted a brow. “That was easy.” He pulled the foil off the top of the bottle and began working the cork.
Nan smiled. “There’s more.”
Jackson stopped mid cork popping. “More?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“What more?”
Nan looked over at Jackson’s bike and deepened her smile. “Just something I’ve been thinking about.”
Jackson turned his head, puzzled. “What?”
“Nope. I won’t tell. You’re going to have to trust me.”
He frowned. “Trust you?”
“Um, hmm.”
“Let me get this straight. For ten strawberries and five pieces of cheese, I’m supposed to give you a glass of champagne and something else that has yet to be disclosed?”
“That’s right.”
Jackson uncorked the bottle and poured a glass of champagne. Nan triumphantly reached for it, but he didn’t hand it to her. He drained the whole damn thing in one smooth gulp. “Nope. I won’t do it.”
“What!” She sat up like a beanpole, indignation pumping into her. “You don’t trust me? After what I did last night!”
Jackson laughed. “Not only are you gorgeous when you’re naked on the hood of my truck, but you’re gorgeous when you’re pissed. I didn’t say I didn’t trust you. If I’m going to set myself up for undisclosed services then I demand to have half of the strawberries, half of the cheese, and you neglected to mention half of the whipped cream.”
“Oh.” Nan sat down with a poof and a tingle. Every time she thought about their love making last night, the juices inside her bubbled with excitement. “If you get half of the food, then I get half of the champagne, and that includes the glass you already drank.”
“Deal,” Jackson said. He poured two glasses of champagne and handed her one. For the next hour they worked their way through strawberries and cream, champagne and cheese. A definite buzz worked its way through her bloodstream.
He refilled her glass. “This last one is yours, sugar. And you have to drink it like I drank the first one.”
She saluted him and drained the glass then sat up proud of her accomplishment. “This is potent stuff. I feel kind of Ring-Around-the-Rosy.” She giggled then popped her hand over her mouth. She never giggled.
“Ring around the what?” Jackson leaned forward and brushed an errant strand a hair from her face.
She captured his finger in her hand. “You know. The old nursery rhyme.” She sang what she remembered of it. “In kindergarten, back when I fit in with the crowd, the girls would get together and hold hands. Then we’d run in a circle until we were dizzy and fell down.”
“I don’t remember it. My brothers and I were probably more interested in chasing lizards back then.”
She scrunched her nose. “Lizards. Yuck.”
While she held his finger, he aimed it at her chest and pushed until she fell over backwards onto the blanket. He followed her down, then took his other hand and traced the V of her shirt over the top of her breasts. “Luckily, since then I’ve discovered the merits of women.”
“We’re much better than lizards.”
“Much. All sugar and spice.” He leaned over and kissed her and she closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations swirling through her. “Now that I’ve gotten half of the strawberries and cream and you’ve gotten half of the champagne, what undisclosed services of mine did I barter?”
Nan drew a deep breath, an action that brought her breast in contact with Jackson’s arm. He rubbed his forearm against her then moved his hand down to cup her. Through her clothing, his thumb zeroed in on her nipple with unerring accuracy.
“Did you have something like this in mind?”
She wet her lips with her tongue. “That’s part of it.”
“There’s more? ” He moved to her other breast.
“A lot.” She took a deep breath. “You got the truck. I want the motorcycle.” She watched Jackson’s expression change to puzzlement.
She reached up and slid her finger under his shirt to toy with his nipple. “You gave me a ride on your truck last night. I want one on your bike this morning.”
“The bike, huh?”
“Yes.”
“So, how long have you been thinking about that?”
“I’m not telling.”
He laughed. “I have my ways at getting to the truth.” Jackson angled up from the blanket and moved over to his Harley. He walked all the way around it as if he were examining a racehorse. Then he stopped and looked down at her, his expression unreadable.
“You’re sure we won’t get interrupted?” She looked around. A thatch of lazy oak trees cut them off from the dirt road they’d traveled to get here and nothing but wild flowers, tall grass, and a broken barbwire fence met her gaze across the creek.
Jackson grinned and raised a brow. “Fairly, but isn’t that part of the appeal of making love outside rather than in your bed, sugar? Doesn’t the fact that you can’t be a hundred percent sure excite you?”
Nan laughed. “I’d be mortified if someone saw us.”
Jackson shrugged and stepped away from his bike. “Well, if you aren’t willing to take the risk…”
“Take your shirt off,” she demanded, sitting up to watch him. Whether it was too risky or not, be it the champagne at work, or maybe she’d just lost her mind completely. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.
He grabbed the edges of his T-shirt and slowly pulled it up over his head, tossing it her way. Nan caught it and snuggled it, breathing deeply of his cologne.
His boots followed, landing with a “thunk” at the edge of the blanket where she sat. Her blood began to pulse and heat dampened the skin between her legs. She shifted on the blanket, hoping to ease the building tension inside.
Sun glistened off of his broad shoulders and the blue-black waves of his raven hair. She wanted to explore the length of his muscled body over and over again. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him.
When his hands moved to the button of his fly, her mouth watered, and her heart began to race. She had fantasized about making love on his Harley, but she’d never thought about how to do it. He slid the button open and zipped down his fly. The bulge emerging told her he was as turned on as she was as he shucked his jeans and briefs.
“Come here, sugar,” he said his voice so deep and smooth that its silken vibrations wrapped around her center and shook her. She stood and walked to him, not even sure her legs could make
the distance as champagne and desire swirled through her. She came to a trembling stop before him. He reached around and gently pulled the bands holding her hair back. Threading his fingers through it, he spread it about her shoulders then unbuttoned her blouse. “You know much about bikes, sugar?”
She managed to shake her head. Her blouse came off and her bra quickly followed. The light morning breeze tickled her skin as the warmth of the sun beat soothingly on her bare flesh. She felt totally decadent to be naked in the daylight, and her nipples immediately hardened to sensitive points. He cupped her breasts and rubbed the pads of his thumbs over them. Pleasure shot through her and a low moan vibrated in her throat.
“You treat a bike right and she’ll always give you a smooth ride, sugar.” He leaned down, kissed her left nipple and drew it into his mouth, sucking her into a whirlwind of hot desire. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she arched to his pleasure giving mouth. A second later he released her and stepped away.
“Oh.” She wavered, her toes curling in the grass for balance. She looked up at him, trying to decipher what he wanted. He had a man-on-the-move smile on his face and a deeply sensual gleam in his blue eyes. He hadn’t shaved when he’d showered, so a dark shadow shaded his square jaw and the cleft of his hard chin. He looked like a desperado, wild and wicked as he moved behind her and slid up against her bottom. She could feel his erection pressing against her, feel the heat of his breath upon her neck, and the pleasuring tingle of his touch as he ran his hand over her hip and along the waist band of her jeans. She sucked in her belly willing and wanting him to snap them open and strip them away. He did so in a flash and didn’t stop until she was completely naked.
“Before I ride, I always make sure she’s in prime condition.” Still playing with her nipples, he brought his other hand between her legs and gently rubbed her dewy flesh then slid a finger into her wet passage. “I get her ready to ride.”
Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) Page 12
