by Leslie Kelly
CHAPTER NINE
Nicole couldn't even remember what they talked about on the ride back to Windover. Nothing earth-shattering, certainly. Somehow she managed to respond to Wyatt's light-hearted comments about the climate, and the ranch, and hid the fact that her whole body quivered in memory of his words.
Darkness fell as they drove, and the interior of the truck was illuminated only by the lights of the dashboard. Suddenly Nicole felt Wyatt reach toward her lap to take her fingers in his. He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a fleeting kiss on it, then gently lay her hand back down, all in utter silence. She wondered if she'd imagined it.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"For what?"
"For bringing up the past. I wasn't playing fair."
"I wasn't aware we were playing anything," she said.
"Sweetheart, we've been playing games with one another since the night you came back to town."
Nicole turned in her seat and tucked one leg beneath the other. She studied the fine sculpted lines of Wyatt's face, shadowed by the dim light in the truck, and wondered at his suddenly serious mood. "And would you prefer something else?"
"Maybe."
Gathering courage, Nicole asked the question she'd wondered about for years. "Why haven't you ever married, Wyatt? I'm sure there were plenty of women who wanted to tame you."
He laughed softly. "There may have been a few. I came close once, a long, long time ago. Never had the urge since."
He didn't elaborate. Nicole had no idea whether he was referring to their own romance, or another, but she heard the wistful tone in his voice and her heart hoped he spoke of her.
"Well, we're here," he said.
They reached the Grange building and Wyatt swung the truck into the gravel driveway. The old building looked to be two stories tall from the outside, but inside, Nicole remembered, it was one empty, cavernous open space. She imagined they'd set up a makeshift stage. Probably there were crepe paper orange blossoms and fake trees covered with mini Christmas lights. Somehow it would look pretty in its shabbiness. The older residents would come together and pretend not to notice that the younger townspeople avoided such old-fashioned events and went into Gainesville or Ocala for some real Friday night entertainment.
The parking lot was filled, and lights shone from the front windows. Nicole heard some twangy country music coming from inside and was overwhelmed with the sense of déjà vu.
Wyatt started to swing the truck into a parking place toward the back of the lot, but Nicole reached across and placed her hand on his arm. "No. This isn't right."
"Why not? I thought it was what you wanted?"
"No, Wyatt, please. Please drive around back."
Wyatt stared at her steadily for a few seconds before doing as she asked. He drove the truck through some high grass on the side of the building, through some ruts where there had once been a dirt driveway, and pulled behind a thick copse of trees on the back end of the property. They were at least forty yards from the building, hidden by the trees, just as they'd been the last time they'd come to the dance.
Parking the truck, Wyatt paused to enjoy the faint scent of Nicole's delicate perfume, and the sound of her breathing just inches away. She still had her small hand on his arm. "Is this where you want to be, Cinderella?"
She nodded. He understood. To enter that dance would change the memories. Diminish them. They sat outside, alone in the dark, just as they had before, and that was just as it should be. The night was warm and Wyatt shrugged off his suit jacket and pulled his tie out of his collar.
"Dance with me," she ordered.
Wyatt grinned at her demand, but didn't hesitate. He hopped out of the truck and went around to open the door for her. The ground was soft from a recent rain, and Wyatt took her arm as they walked to the back of the truck. He kept brushing the tall grass out of her way so it wouldn't snag her dress. Finally Nicole scooped its folds in her fist and pulled the dress dangerously high on her thighs.
Wyatt hissed and had to swallow down a lump in his throat. He’d seen her legs in that bikini the other day, but somehow this was just a little bit sexier. Seeing flashes of supple skin only made him more desperate to see whatever he couldn’t see right now.
They reached the back of the truck. Lowering the tailgate, he lifted her up and then jumped up to stand next to her.
"I think I can do without these." Reaching down, Nicole slipped-off her sexy sandals and stood barefoot in front of him.
"Can you hear the music?" he whispered.
"Umh-hmh," she sighed. "I can feel it, too."
He slid his arms around her waist and she curled into him like a kitten seeking warmth.
They danced. He didn't suppose others would really consider it dancing. They just stood together, pressed against one another from shoulder to thigh, and swayed slowly to the music. He kept his eyes closed most of the time, savoring the feel of her and the smell of her. When he did open them, he watched the moonlight shine on her dark hair, and he couldn't resist pulling the pins out of her elaborate hairdo. "Better," he murmured as he felt her curls spring around his fingers.
"Yes. Better," she purred.
Wyatt felt the light drops of rain hit his forehead and slid down his temple to his cheek. He ignored them. Slowly the drops pinged on his head and body, not stinging, but instead soft and warm as only an evening rain in Florida could feel. "I'm getting wet," he murmured.
"So am I."
"Do you mind?"
"No. Not at all."
So they kept dancing, swaying, even when the band inside took a break and there was no more music to dance to except the gentle sound of the rain hitting the leaves of nearby trees. The water slid down Wyatt's hair, down his neck, and he felt Nicole lean up to kiss it away. She licked at his skin, drank away the raindrops, and he groaned.
Nicole couldn’t remember a time when she’d been so completely lost to everything else. So in tune with her senses and not to her thoughts. But here, now, in Wyatt’s arms, she could think of nothing except how warm his body was, how much she loved his sexy scent, how the muscles of his arms flexed beneath her fingers.
The rain fell a little harder, but she didn’t care. The liquid tasted salty where it met Wyatt's skin, and she savored it. She ran her tongue under his ear, to that pale strip of skin just below his hairline, then gently nibbled on his earlobe. "Kiss me, please, Wyatt," she whispered.
He took his time. He began to kiss away the drops on her forehead, one by one, pausing to smell her hair and let his tongue rest against the pulse-point at her temple. His mouth trailed kisses across her cheeks, over her eyebrows, even down her nose. And finally, he reached her lips.
"Oh, yes," she said on a sigh as his mouth met hers.
The rain was cool but his mouth was hot and seared her. His lips opened on hers, and he teased her with his tongue. She licked at him, wanting him hot and hard and hungry, but he kept on swaying and kissing her lightly, as if they had all the time in the world. He would not go faster, though she pressed against him and moaned aloud.
Finally, growing desperate because he wouldn't give her more, she took it. Thrusting her hands into his hair, she pulled him hard against her, thrusting her tongue hard against his, begging him to meet her halfway.
She felt a surge of triumph when his arms tightened around her and he lifted her right off her feet to fit her body even closer against his own. Tilting her head, she reveled in the heat, the intensity suddenly unleashed in him. She felt his body's reaction to her, his erection pressed into the juncture of her thighs, and Nicole quivered in his arms.
Slowly he loosened his embrace and let her slide down his body as he kissed her jaw and slid his fingers up her midriff to cup her breasts. "Now I'm totally wet," Nicole moaned, shocking even herself with the blatant hunger in her voice.
"It's stopped raining," Wyatt murmured.
"I know."
She quivered as Wyatt bent to kiss her neck, licking away the moisture
on her skin just as she had done for him. When he reached the halter clasp at the back of her neck, she smiled, wanting him to pull her clothes off so they could be gloriously naked in the moonlight. He easily unfastened it, but held the fabric in place with his hand. Stepping back, he kept his eyes glued to her, as if he just wanted to watch, to unwrap her like a present. Then he let go of the wispy fabric, his eyes gleaming as he stared at her naked breasts.
"Beautiful," he murmured.
Her nipples hardened, not from any chill or moisture in the air, but from the pure hunger she saw on his face.
Wyatt bent down and began kissing her throat, then her chest. He nibbled at the curve of her breast, rubbed his cheek against it, and sighed softly, as if he’d never felt anything so good against his skin. Nicole clutched his shoulders for support.
"Please Wyatt," she begged, wanting his mouth pulling and suckling, not gently caressing.
Finally he relented and slid his tongue up to capture a puckered nipple, and her knees gave way. "Easy, love," he whispered as he pulled her closer. She leaned back, offering more, demanding more, and he complied. He used his tongue and his teeth on her throbbing breast, then moved to do the same on the other, until Nicole's hips thrust hard against him.
Growing desperate, she reached down and began unbuttoning his shirt. When that took too long, she just yanked it out of the waistband of his pants. He helped her pull it over his head and Nicole stared at the firm rippled chest and powerful shoulders.
He was so lean and powerful, his body a study in masculine perfection. Muscles rippled and flexed beneath his skin and her mouth watered with the need to lick every inch of him. She leaned forward to kiss and taste the front of his body as he had hers, trying to concentrate on giving him pleasure and avoid being distracted by the lovely things his hands were doing to her aching breasts.
"Wait, I've got a sleeping bag back here."
Nicole wasn't surprised. Just as he had that long ago night, Wyatt had managed to find a reason to bring a sleeping bag along in the back of the truck. She didn't care why. As he spread the sleeping bag across the floor of the truck, Nicole reached around and undid the buttons at the waist of her dress. She let it fall in a heap, then kicked it out of the way.
When Wyatt turned back toward her and saw her standing in the moonlight, wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy white thong panties he smiled and whispered, “Dressed for the occasion, I see.”
“You aren’t.”
He ignored her, continuing to devour her with his eyes. “You look like an angel and a devil and I honestly don’t know which one has more power over me at the moment.”
Her lips widened in a sultry smile. “Does it matter as long as you get where you want to go?”
His attention zoned in on her panties, on the tiny triangle of white satin covering her curls. And she knew exactly where he wanted to go.
But instead of moving toward her, he reached for the waistband of his slacks. Finally.
As he unzipped them, he kicked his shoes off his feet and out of the way. Nicole stared, watching his every movement. She bit her lip in anticipation as he slipped out of the trousers. His obvious erection strained at the tight boxer-briefs and when he moved his hand to his hips to sweep them away, she stepped forward to stop him. "Let me."
She slipped her fingers into the elastic waistband. Gently, holding her breath, she began sliding the cotton fabric down, loving the way he groaned when she allowed her hand to brush across his throbbing erection. But when she moved to encircle all that powerful heat in her hand, he moved back, evading her touch.
She suddenly remembered…Wyatt liked things slow and drawn out. He’d been young—only nineteen—but he’d also been the most patient, deliberate lover she’d ever had.
“Gotta taste you, Nick,” he said, lowering himself to his knees in front of her, kissing a path down her stomach. When he reached the vulnerable spot just above her panties and paused, she whimpered, “Oh my.”
"Oh mine," he muttered.
He breathed slowly, deeply. She felt his warm exhalations through the silky fabric, and a rush of moisture flooded through her. Wyatt closed his eyes and inhaled, as if savoring her scent, and Nicole almost collapsed. Thankfully, he had a firm hold of her hips and he kept her in place, tugging her toward his mouth.
“I’ve never forgotten the way you taste,” he admitted, his voice husky. Then he pressed his hot mouth against the panties, breathing through the material, into her curls, and she moaned. He tasted her with his tongue, warmth and wetness hitting her clit, making her cry out with the pleasure of it.
“I’ve never forgotten the way you taste me,” she admitted, twining her fingers in his thick hair. She never even considered telling him to stop…she wanted this. Wanted all of it. Every single thing he wanted to do to her.
Finally he reached up and hooked a finger into the panties and slid them down her body in one smooth stroke. She didn't even have time to kick them off her feet before his mouth was back in place, his tongue pleasuring her, tasting her, bringing her to an absolute frenzy.
"Please, Wyatt," she groaned as she held on to his shoulders for her balance, for her very sanity.
"Please what, Nicole? Please stop? Please don't stop?"
Nicole stared down at him and pushed against his shoulder with her knee.
"Please fill me up."
He didn’t argue. Reaching for his pants, he pulled a condom out of his pocket. She didn’t question why he had it, honestly, she was just grateful he did. Once he’d sheathed himself, he fell back onto the thick sleeping bag, then tugged her until she fell on top of him. She laughed, liking the playfulness. There was no teenage shyness now, like there had been the last time they'd made love in the back of his truck. She was confident, sure of herself and her sexuality. Whatever happened tomorrow, whatever had happened yesterday, right now he wanted her with desire that bordered on desperation…and they both knew it.
She slid her leg across his hips and straddled him, smiling down at him as she held herself just out of reach of his straining erection.
"I'm trying to oblige you, darlin', but I can't reach quite that far," he said with a grin.
Nicole smiled back and slowly lowered her hips. Her eyes met his and they never looked away. She was completely ready for him, wet, quivering. Her hot flesh slid over his easily and she took him completely inside her in one long stroke.
She sat still. Closing her eyes, she remained completely motionless as she savored the delightful fullness.
Then his body demanded more and he jerked beneath her. She moaned as he grasped her hips and moved her up, then down again, until he was once more tightly encased inside her.
"You haven't forgotten how to ride, have you, Nick?"
She grinned in answer to his challenge, and bent over him, placing her hands hard on his chest.
"You just lie back and see if I've forgotten."
Then she slowly began to move, taking him deep, then lifting herself so he almost slid out of her body. As the frenzy increased, and her pace did, too, she lost a little of her control.
"Let me," he growled.
Wyatt rolled her onto her back, never breaking the connection of their bodies and plunged into her again and again. Her legs wrapped around his waist, demanding that he give her his all. The damp night air didn’t keep the sweat from slickening their bodies as they twisted and thrust and loved.
As if he needed to plow even deeper into her, he lifted one of her legs and pulled it over his shoulder. The angle was incredible and this time when he slammed into her, Nicole actually howled with the pleasure of it. He bent and caught her cries with his mouth, his kiss deep, hungry, frenzy.
“Are you...”
“Oh, God, yes,” she groaned, grinding against him, loving the position that gave her just the right amount of pressure, just where she needed it most.
He didn’t let himself go right away. Not until she was gasping, crying, and finally shaking apart with the pow
er of her climax.
Then—only then—did he follow her with a final, powerful thrust and a whispered endearment.
She slept. Or she lost consciousness. Or she hyperventilated from all the gasps of pleasure. Nicole wasn't quite sure which. But eventually she opened her eyes, looked up at the star filled sky and wondered how late it was. There was no music coming from the Grange building. She heard no voices, no cars. It could have been hours, or mere moments since she and Wyatt had made love.
He was curled against her side, his arm draped around her waist. She liked its heaviness and the feel of his leg twisting between hers. Rubbing her own limb against the coarse hairs on his, she heard his sigh of contentment. Then he whispered something close to her ear. "What did you say?" she asked.
"I said ouch," he muttered.
Not understanding, she watched as he twisted his arm back over his shoulder and plucked at something. Then he held his hand toward her and offered her a small, pink object. "Yours, I believe?"
Finally realizing what he held, she couldn’t prevent a giggle from erupting from her lips. A quick glance at her own hands confirmed it. Seven of her fingernail tips were gone.
"I think there's another one imbedded in my hip," he grumbled.
She laughed out loud and sat up so she could look around for the pointy fake fingernails.
"I take it they weren't real?"
She shook her head and said, "Guess they didn't use enough glue. Or I got a little carried away. Did I scratch you?"
"Oh, yes."
"Poor baby, maybe I'd better inspect you."
He didn't protest as she pushed him onto his stomach and carefully ran her palms over his smooth back. She dipped lower, following the fine lines of his backside and upper thigh, biting her lip with pleasure at the feel of his skin.
Wyatt rolled over and stared up at her, the heat obvious in his eyes as he whispered, "I think you better check out the front, too."
"Did I injure you terribly?"
He nodded slowly.
"Maybe I'd better kiss you to make it better."
