“Well, maybe we can get together and go for a ride in the spring,” Eli suggested, clasping Rachel’s fingers with his.
“We’d like that a lot. Good luck this weekend. We’re sorry we couldn’t come. Tessa has us packed to the gills that night, back-to-back all evening. What can you do?” Peter said with a shrug.
“Such is life in the restaurant industry. Life and love have to revolve around food,” Paul said with a mischievous grin. “I think we have that concept pretty well-developed around here.”
Eli chuckled deeply. “I’ll say.”
* * * *
They had just arrived home from Tessa’s, and Eli chuckled quietly, watching Rachel as she came down the hall with the large, flat package in her hands. He could see the anticipation in her eyes as she placed the gift-wrapped box in his hands.
“Who goes first?” he asked, noting she practically vibrated with excitement. Eli knew he was going to like whatever was in this box. She was giggly and giddy with excitement, and she hadn’t even opened her gift yet.
“You do! You go first, honey,” she replied.
He laid the box on the coffee table and began ripping the paper off the plain cardboard box. Lifting the lid, he found several flat, tissue-wrapped packages on a bed of packing peanuts inside.
“Does it matter which one I open first?”
She touched a couple and pointed to a small one. “This one first.”
He patted his thigh. “Come sit in my lap.”
Rachel climbed up and watched him open the first portrait. It was a framed black and white photograph of her under a big pecan tree. She was lying on a blanket, on her tummy, dressed in blue jeans and a low-cut T-shirt, barefooted. Her hair was ruffled around her shoulders by a passing breeze, and she had a faraway look in her eyes.
The way she was lying on the blanket, her luscious cleavage was showcased to its best advantage. The necklace she wore in the shot invited the eye there.
“Wow, I love this. Thank you, angel.” He kissed her. “When did you do these?”
“About a month ago.”
She handed him the next one. He ripped the tissue off and was taken completely by surprise. “Hot damn!”
In this color portrait, Rachel was dressed in the black satin gown and robe he had bought for her, posed seductively on her side, resting on a chaise lounge. The robe was off one shoulder, and the black satin was arranged around her in light-reflective puddles. Her hair was spread out around her on the pillows.
“You know how much I love your hair like that.”
Through the deep slit on the side of the nightgown, one calf was bared as well as her knee and part of her thigh. Her head rested on her hand, and she was looking directly in the camera lens with a sexy come-hither stare. The light was soft as if she were surrounded by candles.
“This is beautiful. I want to hang it in our bedroom, if that’s all right.”
“Of course. That’s why I had them done for you. I’m glad you like them…so far,” she said softly reaching in for another tissue wrapped frame.
“So far?” He ripped the tissue of the next one eagerly, and his jaw popped open silently.
This time, Rachel was dressed in a short sexy black satin nightie. She was facing the end of a bed made up with an antique ivory quilt. One knee was propped on the bed, and she was standing on tiptoe, stretching her delicate arch and defining her calf muscle.
The front and the back of the nightie were held in place by a drawstring from under her arm down to her hip, where it was tied. The space between the front and the back of the gown was at least five inches wide, so the side of her full rounded breast, her waist, hip, and thigh were all bare.
Rachel was looking over her left shoulder with a naughty little one-sided grin. Dangling by its ties from her hand was the black satin blindfold he’d given her. It was playful but the intent was clear in her eyes. She was ready for some slap and tickle.
He let out a little “huh” sound and looked at her and said, “Are there more?’
She giggled, kissed his cheek and reached into the box again, lifting yet another tissue wrapped package. He ripped the paper off.
“Whoa,” he said softly, gazing at it, admiring her more and more.
This was a large one, done in black and white. In this picture, she was posed in front of an open window through which soft light filtered.
She was brushing her hair as she looked out the window so her arms were up above her shoulders. She was dressed in a white corset that laced up the back, the ribbon bows just barely visible. She wore a white G-string and white garters securing her white lace-trimmed stockings. Her feet were shod in sexy white high-heeled pumps.
“Damn, that is beautiful, angel,” he said softly, looking at her. “You’re one gutsy lady.”
“Do you like it?’
“I love it. I love them all! It’s unbelievable.”
“Do you like them enough to hang them in our bedroom?”
“Of course! But I’m not letting just anyone go in there, that’s for sure!”
Giggling, she said, “Understood.” Rachel rose from his knee, and he pulled her back, cuddling her to him.
“You’re not getting away that quick, naughty girl. I love them, and I love you,” he murmured, kissing her tenderly.
“I guess you don’t want the last one,” she said with a touch of pouty sadness.
“There’s more?”
“One more. A special one,” Rachel said and Eli noted the twinkle in her eyes.
“Special one?”
Reaching into the packing peanuts, Rachel rummaged through them till she found it, building his anticipation before she handed it to him.
This one felt different as he removed the wrapping. It was a bound leather frame that opened like a book. He flipped the cover back on itself and nearly dropped it when he saw the photo inside of it. An eleven-by-fourteen inch, black and white nude portrait of Rachel.
Eli gulped loudly. The light was much softer in this portrait, and she was posed in front of a lit fireplace on a black bearskin rug. She was on her knees perched on her raised heels. Her knees were parted, and her arms were bent, her hands in her hair. Her back was arched, and her breasts were tilted up in an enticing display.
The light shimmered in her hair and her skin was a teasing mixture of light and shadow because of the backlighting. She was turned away from the camera just enough so that only the tiniest trace of the dark curls over her mound were visible. The photo had an old-fashioned, grainy quality to it. The lighting was perfect over the curve of her hip and her ass to the gentle upper and lower swell of her breasts. Even her navel was a lighting masterpiece. Her face was relaxed and contemplative, her eyes slightly downcast, the irises catching the light a little. His fingers traced on the glass over her form.
“You posed nude for me,” he said softly.
“I sure did. It took a little convincing, but I did it.”
“This is beautiful.” Eli looked down at it again and squeezed her close.
She flipped the cover back over and demonstrated its dual function. “The cover serves as a stand. If it becomes necessary to close it for privacy’s sake, you flip it closed, put it on the shelf and it looks like a scrapbook.”
“I’ll display it proudly unless we have company. Angel, you’ve blown me away with these. Damn! I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact you were willing to pose nude for me! You’re incredibly beautiful in all of them. You’re full of surprises. Speaking of which, it’s time to open your gift.”
* * * *
Rachel ripped the paper off with glee and looked up at him in confusion when she saw wrapped packages similar in shape to the ones he had opened.
He smiled and said nothing, just handed her the first one. She removed the wrapping paper and held the black frame, similar in style and color to the ones she’d had Carrie and Raquel use.
“Carrie and Raquel shot you?”
“Carrie did. She met me out at th
e lake the Monday after the hog hunt.”
“We were had, weren’t we?”
“Yes, by Ethan and Grace, I believe. Ethan took me upstairs and showed me the outdoor portraits they had made for Grace for her wedding gift. He suggested maybe you might like something similar.”
“He was right. Grace showed me the boudoir portraits she had done for them that hang in their bedrooms. I decided to do the same thing for you.” Rachel was holding the frame facedown.
“Turn it over. See what you think.”
She did as he asked. “Oh, mama.”
It was a black and white of Eli posed in his leather jacket, a white T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and his black leather biker boots. He was sitting on his motorcycle, his long, raven-black hair waving in the breeze behind him. His big, muscular arms were crossed over his chest as he gazed into the camera, the filtered sunlight illuminating the pale gray of his eyes. His smile was devilish and playful.
“Like it?”
“I love it,” she said dreamily. “I want more.”
The next one was taken down at the cove on BowieLake. It was a much tighter shot of a shirtless, tanned Eli. He was sitting down against one of the massive trees that grew neat the water’s edge, and he was resting his head against the weathered, gray bark. The look on his face was intense, and his body seemed to vibrate with restrained energy. His pale gray eyes radiated with sexual heat. It was a startlingly honest revelation of his feelings in his eyes, and she released a purely feminine sigh. Rachel recognized this guy.
“The caveman.” She laid her hand on the image.
“I was afraid you might not like this one. I thought the look on my face was too…intense.”
“It is intense, but I know him. The part of you that is so fiercely protective and territorial. Very intense, but also fiercely loyal and protective of me. I love that wild part of you.” Tapping the glass with her fingertip, she added, “He makes me feel safe.”
The wrapping on the next one revealed another black and white image. In this one, he was walking toward the camera through the trees in a mix of sunlight and shadow. The trees were not as thick here, so he was well lit, just a subtle shadow here and there.
Eli was looking off into the distance across the lake, but his thoughts appeared much farther away. His face was relaxed in this portrait, serene, in fact. His eyes were illuminated by a ray of sun, and there was a soft smile on his lips. His arms were relaxed, loose at his sides. He was bare-chested and barefoot, his jeans riding low on his lean hips. Eli’s thoughts were obvious in the subtle hint of an erection through the denim of his jeans. In sunlight, it would have been obvious, but with the mix of sunlight and shadow playing over his body, only someone looking for it would see it.
Sighing softly in appreciation, Rachel glanced at the portrait of the caveman and at this one, feeling so blessed and fortunate. This was her portrait of Eli the lover. Both were her soul mates, the caveman and the lover.
She looked up at him, feeling pure wonder. “How did Carrie manage to capture such authentic shots of your personality? There’s a different aspect of you in each of these.”
Eli shrugged. “She would ask me questions about you, I would answer her and tell her about you, and then she would start snapping pictures. Once I got used to the camera, I let my mind wander until she would ask the next question. That one of me on the Harley, I was thinking about you sending me that naughty nekkid picture mail ‘did you eat yet?’ when we were on the hog hunt. Bad girl.”
“I’ll bet I can guess what you were thinking in this one.” She chuckled, tapping the glass on the portrait of her lover man.
“Well, the obvious answer is that I was thinking about making love to you. I was specifically thinking about making love with you after we got home from the hog hunt the night before. I was remembering the sounds you made when you came each time. It’s a sweet, precious memory.”
“That was an amazing night. I like knowing the way I sound when I come has such an effect on you.” Her cheeks warmed at her own sweet memories of that night.
“Remember the fantasy I shared with you on the dance floor?”
“Yes, the high heels, the side-tying G-string, and the vibrator on the deck chair in back?”
He reached over and lifted the last and largest picture from the box. “That fantasy was in my mind that morning when we were doing this portrait. I shared it with you later that same night on the dance floor.”
“My goodness, this is a nice big one,” she purred, glancing naughtily at him as he groaned and rolled his eyes. Rachel didn’t miss the erection now straining at his zipper, either. She ripped off the paper and took a look. Her eyes popped open as round as saucers.
“Oh. My. Word.” Her fingers traced over the glass. She stood it up against the coffee table and looked at it in awe. This portrait was a black and white, not coincidentally matted and framed to match her portrait in front of the window in her white corset.
Sneaky freaking photographers.
Eli was standing in the water to his upper thighs. He was soaking wet, the water sluicing down his body, dripping from his thickly muscled arms, which were bent. His hands were at the sides of his head, like he was slicking his dripping-wet hair back from his face. Water droplets glistened on his torso and his face, sparkling like diamonds wherever the sunlight touched them.
His eyelashes were wet and clung together into little points all around his eyes, which were sparkling with the reflection from the water. Eli looked directly into the camera, his sensuous lips opened slightly as if he’d come up for a breath of air, a playful, sexy smile on his handsome face. His massive shoulders, biceps, and pectorals corded with muscular power.
The weight of the water pulled the waistband even lower on his soaking-wet jeans, and damned if the top button wasn’t popped open! The little opening revealed a marked absence of undergarments, and the wet fabric left nothing to the imagination about the size and placement of his cock, which didn’t seem to mind the cold water at all. It wasn’t visible, just the delectable outline of it through the wet denim. She gulped loudly when her mouth started to water.
“Was the water cold?”
“It might have been a little cold, but you can probably guess what was on my mind. I don’t remember feeling cold. And just so you know, I buttoned right back up after she took it,” he said, kissing the top of her head before she looked up at him, smiling.
“I wasn’t going to ask. But I’m glad to know. These are the nicest, finest, most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received, Eli. Thank you.”
Rachel kissed him as he held her in his lap. His palm rested lightly on her cheek. He tilted his head and deepened their kiss, so gentle and tender it made her heart throb and ache as well as other parts farther south.
When she came up for air, she said, “Eli, I’m so in love with you it hurts.”
“Can I make the hurt feel better?”
“No, make it worse,” she whispered.
Chapter Fifty
Rachel was at home wrapping Christmas gifts she would be delivering later in the day. They had decided to extend their honeymoon over Christmas and would return home on the evening of the twenty-sixth. She was attaching the gift tag to Rogelio’s shirt box when the doorbell rang.
Rising from the breakfast bar where she’d set up shop, she answered the door. Corina Scott stood there looking cute as ever in her Christmas cardigan, T-shirt, blue jeans, and boots. Her hair was done up like usual, and judging by the time, she must be on her lunch break. Corina cut hair at one of the ladies’ hair salons between Divine and Morehead.
“Corina? This was kind of far to come for lunch. Are you okay?” Rachel noticed the troubled expression on her friend’s face.
“My one o’clock cancelled, and I took the rest of the day off to help with decorations at your mom and dad’s.”
“That was nice of you. We appreciate your help. Are you all right? Is something wrong?”
“Yes, actually. I know this i
s not the best time, and I can help you wrap while we talk if you want,” Corina offered, gesturing to the rolls of paper and other gift-wrapping paraphernalia.
“I’d love some help! I have quite a few to go. Tell me what’s up.” Rachel fixed her a glass of tea and offered her a seat at the counter.
“I was at The Pony last night with Brice. While I was in the ladies’ room, I met a person who told me she was a regular there. She said she wanted to warn me about Brice. She wouldn’t be specific. She said to ‘watch out.’ She said her name is Barbara James and that I should ask you about Brice.”
Rachel groaned and rolled her eyes. Some people just could not stand to see someone happy and had to do whatever they could to bring them down.
“Brice has been nothing but kind and wonderful to me. He treats me like a lady, like you said he would that first night. I know he’s not perfect or anything. I decided I would trust what I know and see and ask you about her since she said she knew you. I noticed she sat at the bar the whole time we were there. Brice asked me if everything was all right when I sat down. I suppose he could tell something was wrong. I told him I was fine. I wasn’t going to tell him what she said because she didn’t say anything besides ‘watch out,’ whatever that means. Can you tell me what she might have meant? And tell me if I should talk to him?”
“I can tell you what I think she meant, but before I do, I want you to know I think you are the sweetest, freshest breeze that has ever blown through his not always happy life. I know none of it will matter to you because you’re right in trusting your instincts.”
Corina placed a small box on a piece of paper and began wrapping. Rachel disliked the woman Corina referred to intensely in that moment for causing Corina needless worry like this. “I need to know, Rachel. I think I’m falling in love with him. If he has a history I may hear about from someone like her again, I need to be armed with at least a few facts. I’m a realist but an optimistic one. I know he’s not perfect, and I’ve figured out that his home life growing up was not good, or safe, for that matter.”
Rainier, Heather - Her Gentle Giant: Remember to Dance [Divine Creek Ranch 2] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) Page 25
