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Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series)

Page 13

by Jennifer Saints


  Nan moaned. “I’m ready, Jack. So ready.”

  “Bikes are finely tuned, and respond to your slightest touch.” He took her hand and ran it up the leather and steel handlebars, over the gadgets on it to the center of the bike. Once he reached the leather seat, he splayed her hand upon its cushioned softness, pressing her hand in place before moving his up to brush over her jutting nipples. Then he took her other hand and brought it back, placing it over his shaft. Nan eagerly stroked him, filling her hand with his pulsing hardness.

  “Not yet, sugar. We need to make your fantasy complete.” He stepped away from her, took his leather jacket off the back of the bike and threw it over the handlebars. She watched, fascinated as he climbed on and situated himself on his bike. His arousal stood ready and waiting, as was the look in his eyes when he spoke. “Your turn, sugar. You’ll find a condom in the back pocket of my jeans.”

  Now that the time had come, a slight awkwardness spread over her as she retrieved the condom, but her curiosity was too great to call a halt to this game. Condom in hand she approached him. He leaned over and kissed her, the stubble on his face causing her skin to tingle. She fumbled the condom in place, her nervous fingers caught in the thin Latex, and Jackson reached over, helping her to smooth it along his hard sex. She wanted him inside her now, but the reality of doing it on his motorcycle was a lot more complicated than making it happen in her dreams. “How?” Nan murmured, wondering what to do next.

  “Climb on in front and face me, rest your backside on my jacket.” She did as he directed and he helped her get balanced. “That’s it,” he said as he settled her legs on either side of him.

  “Now move forward and rest your feet on the bottom of the back bar.”

  “You sound as if you’ve done this before,” she accused.

  “No.” He cupped her bottom, lifting her up as she moved closer. “But I’ve thought about it. A lot.” He pulled her down on top of him as he pushed his erection upward penetrating her instantly, deeply.

  Nan moaned with pleasure, pressing her breasts against his chest.

  Moving his hands to the handlebars of the bike, he rocked his hips a little, urging her up. “Now, hold onto my shoulders and you take us for a ride, sugar. I’ll hold the bike steady; you’re in the driver’s seat.”

  Tentatively she levered up and slid back down, amazed at how easily she could move.

  Jackson thrust up watching the sunlight set Nan’s auburn hair ablaze with fiery lights. She was so hot and so damn sexy that all he could think about was getting deeper and deeper into her. He wanted to keep thrusting and thrusting until they both went crazy with desire. “That’s it. Yeah, just like that. Slow, steady, and hard, sugar,” he murmured, rocking his hips harder and harder. She was a wet dream come true, and he wanted to be the man with whom she came apart.

  Last night, the numbness that had ruled his body for so long had faded. How could he remain indifferent with a woman like her? Her full breasts rubbed his chest and bounced with her every move. The sun kissed her naked flesh to a peachy glow, and the hot heat of her sex nestled in red-blonde curls grabbed his erection, smoothly milking him to an excitement that had his blood rushing like the wind. She was taking him for a ride and as before, being with her was unlike being with anyone else.

  Her honey eyes were darkened with secret desire and slanted to a love-me-baby angle. And her lush mouth, parted with the force of her desire, seemed ready to take anything he had to give. He pumped into her harder, forcing his hands to keep the bike steady when all he wanted to do was to grab her and pump them both into insanity. “How long, sugar? How long have you been thinking about this?”

  “Three,” she gasped.

  “Three whole days, huh.” He smiled pushing up into her and reveling in her slick, smoothness.

  “Three months.” Her breath caught and her muscles tightened on him and he couldn’t hold back any more.

  “Months? Damn, sugar, you’re killing me. That’s it, come with me.” He thrust into her one last time and her convulsing orgasm sent him over the edge. He jerked with the force of it, his spasms moving him deeper into her, and still it wasn’t enough. When she settled in his arms, her breathing a heavy, rasping in the air, he stayed buried inside of her as he slid off the bike and carried her to the quilt. Lying on top of her, he kissed her tenderly, breathing in her essence and loving the feel of being intimately connected. He was in trouble. His erection was gearing up for another hard ride and his heart was revving up his blood to fuel the action.

  The sound of a plane had him shift and his thigh suddenly felt damp. “Damn,” he sat up quickly to see. The condom looked intact, but his leg was just a bit too wet.

  “Oh my Gosh!” Nan bolted upright in a panic. “I don’t believe this.”

  He slid the condom off and placed it with the used paper plates to be thrown away. He didn’t see any fluid leak from it, so he figured they were safe. “Don’t worry. Odds are that it won’t matter.”

  “Won’t matter! Don’t you hear the plane? They’re going to see us like this!”

  Jackson switched gears from the possible condom leak to realize Nan was upset about being seen naked from the air. “You won’t be anything more than a speck on the horizon to the pilot.”

  “Even being a naked speck is mortifying,” she said. “They’ll know what we’ve been doing.”

  He found her flustered embarrassment as endearing as her wild streak had been a turn on. She was a mixture of black lace and prim nurse’s whites. The roar of the plane drew closer. He rolled over on top of her to cover her body with his. “The only thing the pilot can see is my backside. You’re safe.”

  “I want clothes,” she grumbled, wiggling.

  He kissed her and neither of them knew when the plane finally flew over. Nan was a wonderful distraction and he had packed another condom in the other pocket of his jeans. This time they went green and made good use of the trees for support.

  * * *

  “You cook a mean steak.” Nan sat back in her chair and folded her napkin after dabbing her mouth.

  Jackson had already polished off his dinner and sat with his legs stretched out, sipping the last of his beer. Physically there wasn’t any part of Jackson she hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing or touching. They’d spent the morning sun bathing naked on the quilt by the creek, and the afternoon in his bed. They’d both gotten sun today. Jackson’s tan had deepened, making his teeth flash white when he grinned. “My motto with meat is if I can’t grill it then I don’t eat it.”

  “I wondered how you did without a stove.” She couldn’t imagine living such a makeshift way every day, but he had turned out an excellent meal. A fresh salad, and microwaved potatoes and veggies went with their steaks. “The steak was heavenly.”

  “No. The steak was good. You’re heavenly.” He leaned over and kissed her soundly.

  She moaned. Making love again right that minute would kill her because she was already so replete. She’d lost count how many times they’d made love since she’d arrived last night. But with Jackson making the moves, she couldn’t deny him, and was ready to die for pleasure.

  He didn’t move in for the kill this time though, he stood up and tugged on her hand. “Let’s go sit on the porch.”

  He sat on one corner of the swing and placed a long leg across the bench seat, leaving his other leg planted on the porch. He patted the wood between his legs. “Sit here.”

  She snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around her, spooning her against him so they could both look out at the starry night and see the moonbeams peek through the clouds at the hillside. A chorus of crickets and frogs sang in the distance.

  “This is beautiful. Quiet and peaceful. We haven’t seen anybody all day,” she said surprised to feel the contentment inside of her. She’d grown up in the country, and was no stranger to it. Yet her memories of it were different. The dark had always been too dark, the crickets too loud, and the isolation too acute. Moving to the city,
having a career, and being hemmed in by people rather than land had been something she’d yearned to do for as far back as she could remember.

  “In the four years I’ve lived here, you’re the only person who has been to my cabin. No reason for folks to stop by, this is private property and my family respects my privacy.”

  His words intrigued her. Was she special to him? Jackson had made love to her with a passion and tenderness unlike any other, yet she’d never met a man so against making any type of a commitment to anything. “Don’t you get lonely out here?”

  “No.” He tensed, and she wondered if he would continue. “I grew up with three brothers whose mission in life was to crowd into anything their older brother got to do. I like quiet. What about you, any brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope. I’m it, which was probably a good thing.”

  “How so?”

  Nan shrugged. She didn’t talk about her childhood much; it pulled her down and made her sad. “Between me and my father, my mother had more than she could take care of.”

  “You never say much about your folks. Where do they live?”

  “They don’t.” She breathed deep, and forced herself to speak. “My father drank himself into an early grave and my mother worked herself into one trying to get help for him and feeding me. After they died, I left the broken down trailer they’d rented and moved to Savannah, eventually working my way through nursing school.”

  For a long moment Jackson remained silent. “I’m sorry. Men who can’t take on the responsibilities of caring for a family shouldn’t have one.” His voice cut harshly through the night.

  “I don’t think my father planned it that way. He caught the tail end of Vietnam. When he came back, he was never the same. His platoon was massacred, and only he and one other man survived. My father and the other man had a run in with a land mine. They called for a chopper to medi-vac them out. Shortly after that, a North Vietnamese sniper team ambushed his platoon, and my father blamed himself for their deaths. He thought that the land mine explosion and the chopper helped the Vietnamese to pinpoint his platoon.”

  “But he couldn’t have known.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I’m sorry it happened, but he let it ruin his life and took my mother with him. She loved him with all of her heart and soul, but it wasn’t enough.”

  Jackson hugged her tighter. Nan lost herself in her remembrances of the past. Few had been happy. Most had been anguished with constant problems. He pushed the swing with his foot and they swayed softly in the evening breeze for a while. After a time she spoke again.

  “Jack, tell me about your wife. What was her name?”

  He tensed. For a long time he didn’t answer and Nan wondered if she had made a fatal mistake. He was just opening up to her. Would he completely withdraw from her now?

  “Her name was Amy. I suppose you already know she was killed in a car crash four years ago.”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s not much to say beyond that. We married when I was in school, which made life rough, but we stuck it out. What about you, ever married?”

  “Me?” Nan blinked, surprised. Didn’t he realize she would have already shared something like that with him? “No.”

  “That explains it.”

  “What,” Nan said, her brow furrowing.

  “Why I’m such a lucky man. Rumor has it that once a woman marries it ruins her for great sex.”

  Nan elbowed him in the stomach. “Typical male reasoning. It isn’t marriage that does it. It’s the pile up of the demands of being a mother and a wife. Plus the fact that men either never learned the art of romance and seduction or forget how to light a candle after the wedding. Women need more than just sex to keep a fire burning.”

  Jackson cupped her breasts and stroked her nipples through the cotton of her shirt. “You sure about that?”

  Nan moaned, yet managed to capture and still Jackson’s hands. “That helps, but I’m positive about the other.”

  He laughed. Leaving their hands entwined, he set the swing in motion again. “You said something this morning that I wanted to ask you about. Why was kindergarten the only time you felt like you fit in?”

  “It was the only time that not having what the other kids had didn’t bother me.” She shrugged, reluctant to bring back the memories. “Whether it was in their mind or in my mind, when I grew older, I always felt outside the circle.”

  Jackson released one hand and picked up a strand of her hair, toying with it between his fingers. “I know what you mean.”

  She arched her neck to look at him. “How? You had a big family. Great parents. This huge farm.”

  “That didn’t count for much when we were growing up. We’re Irish. My father works in a shipping yard and my grandfather was a peanut farmer. Blue-blooded folks used to refer to us as “wrong-side-of-the-tracks-Weldons. I think that drove all of us to achieve more and more. Jesse has his own security agency. James and Jared their own construction company. And for a while I spent a great deal of time pursuing a different career.”

  “Medicine?”

  His muscles tightened like a twisted rubber band. “Who—”

  He unfolded his arm from around her and she caught his hand in hers. “Alexi told me, but before that Brad mentioned that he knew you from Chicago. You are a doctor?”

  “I was a doctor.”

  Nan waited a minute, hoping Jackson would explain more about why he left the medical field. He didn’t, so she pushed further. “Why’d you leave medicine?”

  “Let’s just say I changed my mind and drop the subject.”

  “But—”

  Jackson pulled his hand from hers, pushed her forward, and slid off of the swing. “There aren’t any buts.” He paced across the porch, tense and agitated. “You want to go out for a drink or something?”

  She didn’t. She wanted to sit right here and talk. She wanted him to open up to her, to let her beyond the wall he kept erecting whenever they ventured too far past the physical realm. But he’d already withdrawn. Were she to push further, he’d only shut her out more. The past twenty-four hours in Jackson’s company had taught her some things about him and herself. The time had brought them closer. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever been closer to a man. She’d never ventured into shared fantasies’ territory before. Had never known that side of herself until she’d met him. They’d shared laughter and sex beyond her wildest dreams. She thought about her little black book.

  Well, maybe not beyond her wildest. She’d never had so much relaxing, pleasurable fun, but underneath there lay a tension. And like now that tension reared its head.

  “I’ve been tired lately. We were up really late last night and I have to be at work by six Monday morning. It’s already after ten. I’ll regret another late night. In fact, I was thinking about heading home around noon tomorrow so I can get things done and still hit the sack early.”

  Jackson walked back her way and lifted her chin with his finger to bring to gaze to his. “You’ve fainted once and nearly did a second time. Have you seen a doctor yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Promise me you’ll see one soon.”

  “I promise. So to answer your question, I’d rather stay here. Why don’t you play? I love listening to you.”

  He seemed relieved at her suggestion and quickly settled down with his guitar, playing a variety of songs. His voice in the night both comforted and thrilled her. In music she heard his yearning and need. It reached out and grabbed her heart, tugging so hard she could feel herself falling headlong into him.

  Much later his song turned to kisses and his kisses turned to loving, and she had a hard time imagining what it would be like never to touch him again.

  * * *

  Nan woke up Sunday morning to an empty bed and the steady drizzle of rain pattering on the cabin’s roof. Several places about the room Jackson had set cans to catch leaks from the ceiling. The drip-dropping sound reminded her of the trailer she once lived in
. Her mother had always planned to move to a better place, but that never happened. Her memories of the way things had been were so strong she had to fight to keep her perspective. This wasn’t the past, but many things about Jackson’s cabin needed a little bit of care; the torn fabric on the arm of a chair, a drawer set askew, and the wood needed polish. What she hadn’t seen yesterday, she saw today. She’d find it depressing to live amidst the disrepair, too much a reminder of the past.

  Getting up, she went in search of Jackson. She found him out on the porch asleep in the swing. His guitar lay beside him. His rugged, harried appearance told Nan he’d been awake most of the time she’d slept. He looked so alone, so solitary that he seemed as far away from her as the stars. She turned to go back inside, not wanting to disturb him.

  “Don’t go.” He sat up and moved his guitar off the swing.

  Nan walked back and joined him. The hem of his T-shirt she wore rode up and she tugged it down a little, but Jackson reached over and stayed her hand with a caress. A slight chill hung in the damp air and raindrops splattered the porch’s edges.

  “Rough night?” Nan asked.

  He shrugged. “The usual.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really. Do you want breakfast? I can run into town and pick up more buns.”

  Nan smiled. “Shakespeare would be crushed that we left him out.”

  “That’s good.”

  Nan glared at him and he raised his hand to deflect the killer look. “Okay. I take that back. I’ll even buy him one. How’s that?”

  “Much better. I wonder what time it is?” She stood up. What had been relaxing yesterday was making her feel antsy today. She had the need to do something, anything she could term as productive.

  “I think there’s a clock on the microwave.”

  Nan blinked. He thought there was a clock on the microwave. Wasn’t time important enough to know where a clock was? She shook her head and wandered back inside the cabin. Stepping between the cans collecting water drips, she moved over to the microwave and read the time twice before she believed it.

 

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