“I guess so,” she said.
“Shhh,” Jack said, shushing them. “Can’t you people see I’m talking to Liz here? Liz, are you there? Sorry about them. They’re talking so loud.”
“Who are you with?”
“My brother. Josh. And Hayley.”
“You left because my eyes are blue?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Precisely.”
“I need a better answer than that, Jack. Do you know how embarrassed I was? You leaving made me feel like I was being slutty or something, and that you rejected me because of it.”
“Oh, no. No. You’re so wrong,” he said. “I left because I want you. I want you so much I don’t know what to do about it.”
There was silence on the other end for what felt like a solid minute.
“Liz?”
“I’m right here.” Elizabeth’s voice was soft. “I’m right here, and you keep pushing me away. Jack, this thing between us—why are you fighting it? I want you. You want me. It’s simple.”
He leaned his head against the cold glass window. “You’d hate me if you really knew me.”
“I’d never hate you.”
He sighed. “Can I call you Liz?”
She laughed softly. “Yes, you can call me Liz. And why do you think I could ever hate you? You’re everything I’d ever want in a man. Honest. Honorable. Kind.”
“I’m none of those things. You want me to be honest? I was out trying to pick up women tonight.”
Hayley swiveled around in her seat, glared at him, and motioned that it had been the wrong thing to say.
“Well, that’s lovely, Jack,” Elizabeth said. “Thanks a lot for—”
“No, it’s not like that!” Damn, he should have had one more drink, or one less. “I wanted to try to pick up women, but none of them even came close to being attractive to me, because they weren’t you. You see? I need to get over you, Liz, and I thought another woman might help me do that. But you know what? I don’t want to get over you.”
“So don’t,” she said, and he ached for things to be as uncomplicated she made them sound,. “Don’t be so stubborn and … fire captain-y … and stupid. Come back and be with me, Jack.”
His heart swelled. “Say my name again.”
“Jack.”
“Mmm.” He let his eyes sink closed. “I like it when you say my name.”
She didn’t reply.
“Liz?”
“I’m here.”
“I hurt you, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have called.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m glad you did.”
“But I can’t be with you.”
“Yes, you can, Jack.”
“Do you love me?” he asked, ignoring the startled looks he got from the front seat.
“Let’s not go there right now,” she said.
“I thought my life was just fine until I met you,” Jack said. “And now it’s like you’re the one I’ve been waiting for all these years. Like I stayed single just so I’d be free when you came along.”
“That’s sweet,” Elizabeth said.
“But I’m an ass, and you deserve better, and—damn it! I need to go. We can’t even talk. Don’t let me talk to you anymore, okay?”
“No, Jack, it’s not okay.”
“When I sleep tonight, Liz, I’ll dream of you.”
“You should come over,” she said.
“No, no, I can’t,” he said. “As much as I want to, I can’t.”
“Okay, then sweet dreams.”
“They will be sweet, Liz, because I’ll be dreaming of you. Good night.” He hung up from the call.
“Nobody calls her Liz,” Hayley told him, her tone a little less friendly than before.
“Which is exactly why I want to,” Jack said. “If I can think of her as Liz, then I don’t have to think of her as Elizabeth Armstrong.”
Hayley’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m an idiot.”
“You’re off your rocker about this girl,” Josh said. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“Maybe calling her wasn’t such a good idea,” Hayley said. “Now I’m worried you’re going to hurt her.”
“I will hurt her,” Jack said.
“Then it’s best to stay away.” She turned around, and Jack spent the remainder of the ride in silence with his forehead pressed against the cold glass, looking out into the endless frigid darkness.
21
Elizabeth lay in bed, still clutching her phone after Jack hung up, and listened for Jack’s arrival home. When she saw headlights from the road pass through the trees, followed by a car door slam closed, she jolted from her bed and peeked through her window, brushing the slightest bit of curtain fabric aside so no one would catch her spying.
First, she saw lights go on in Jack’s kitchen. She imagined him there, rummaging through the refrigerator. Pouring himself a glass of water. Walking to the huge window in the great room to look at her cabin.
But no.
He might have rummaged through the fridge, and he might have gotten himself water, but he avoided looking her way.
Damn that man and his self-control, she thought. What she wouldn’t give for him to let loose for once. He was like a bridled horse, tempered and tamed, but she knew there was a sexy wildness to him, and she wished he’d give himself permission to let go around her. To be wild, whatever that meant for Jack. She was aroused just thinking about it.
The kitchen light went off. Elizabeth stood in silence, hardly even breathing, as she watched the dark interior of his house. She smiled when a light came on in his bedroom window, and she gasped when a short time later he yanked open the curtains. Jack was naked to the waist, with his belt buckle half-undone.
Yes, she thought. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Jack was a man who rode horses and chopped wood and put out fires and saved lives, and he had the muscular body to prove it. His strong arms were cut with muscle, and he had deliciously chiseled abs. His muscles would probably be tight, and she’d like to massage them for him, working them over until his tension released. He’d have scars, and she wanted to kiss them all. Most of all, she wanted to get her mouth around the cock that she’d only ever felt through the barrier of clothing and that was still contained by the belt buckle that was half-undone.
Keep going, Jack.
She wanted to see his nakedness in all its glory. Even more, though, she wanted him inside her, filling her up, thrusting into her with all his considerable might. She knew it would make her feel whole in a way she never had before. She knew he’d be that good.
As she was still hidden behind her curtain, Jack hadn’t seen her, although he was looking down at her cabin. There was something in his hand—his phone.
Call me again, she willed from the window.
But he pulled closed the curtains again and disappeared, and she turned from the window upset.
Jack kept thwarting her, whether deliberate or not, and she was tired of it. She could see the struggle, had heard it in his voice when he’d called her, and she didn’t know why he refused to act on the passion that was so obviously between them.
It had been a frustrating night, one of many in her frustrating life. She wanted Jack, and she craved his body, and he was right there.
And then there were the other words he’d spoken. Do you love me? They were spoken drunkenly, perhaps unintentionally, but Elizabeth had been a bartender long enough to know how a little alcohol could lead people to blurt out truths.
Her phone buzzed.
Heart racing, she checked it and saw a text message from Jack.
Are you still awake?
Elizabeth took a shaky breath. Her fingers tapped out, Yes. Then she went to the bathroom to see just how much damage her crying jag had done. It wasn’t a pretty sight. She quickly washed her face and took a minute to apply a light amount of makeup. She also smoothed a delicate jasmine-scented lotion all over h
erself—the same that she’d set out on the table earlier, hoping Jack would watch her—and brushed her hair.
By the time she finished, Jack had texted back. How about that drink by the fireplace now?
“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “But let’s not stop with drinks.”
She stripped off her warm, cozy, decidedly un-sexy flannel pajamas and contemplated what to wear. She wanted their drink to lead to sex. But fresh still was the memory of Jack pulling away from her, of rejecting her, and she didn’t want to repeat that feeling. She settled on a matching set of tight-fitting thermal underwear that had a cute black-and-pink fair isle pattern.
With nothing underneath.
She pulled on her winter boots and parka and stepped outside, the cold hitting her bare face like a slap. A thin moon and the barest green of a weak aurora shone off the snow, enough to light her way to the main house. She ran as quickly as she dared to minimize her exposure to the many-degrees-below-freezing temperatures.
When she was a few feet away from Jack’s back deck door, the glass slid open. He stood there, still shirtless, and for a long beat they looked at each other, faces in shadow. Then he pulled her inside and slid the door back into place before stepping back.
“Your coat?” he finally said.
“Right.” She fought to get her excited breathing under control. “My coat.”
She shrugged out of her coat, handing it to him. There were no lights on downstairs, but she could see a wedge of golden light from the direction of what must be his bedroom off the open loft. She turned her attention back to Jack. She knew he’d been drinking, but he was steady on his feet, and his voice was steady, too.
She noticed his eyes glance at her chest and knew her erect nipples were stretched against the thin fabric of her thermal top. When he lifted his gaze and met hers, she saw that his brown eyes were dark with lust, with wanting her. It made her even more aware of her own body and her own increasing arousal.
“I wanted to apologize for calling you like that,” he said, a bit formally. “It probably wasn’t a good idea.”
“Like everything else to do with me,” she couldn’t help saying.
“No, Elizabeth—you’re everything that is good to me.”
She noticed he hadn’t called her Liz, which meant he was probably sobering up a little. Coming to his senses.
“Is this the part where you tell me again that I’m too good for you—which we both know isn’t true—and that’s the reason why we can’t do this?”
Jack said nothing.
“Well, I’m tired of reasons why not.” She took a step closer to him in the cozy semi-darkness of his living room and melted into him when he reached for her.
“I can’t resist you anymore,” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath sending shivers across her skin.
Being held in Jack’s arms and smelling the heady, good-whiskey-and-clean-soap scent of him was more than Elizabeth could bear. She pressed her body against him and let her head tilt back. Asking him—no, begging him—to kiss her.
Kiss her he did. It was a ravaging kiss, and his hands were all over her, gripping her ass and cupping her breasts, and he groaned in desire as she wrapped a leg around his waist and bucked herself forward, pressing into his hardness.
“I can’t resist you,” he said again, more of a declaration this time.
“You’d better not.”
Jack swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom.
He set her back down on her feet and turned off the light, allowing the moonlight and eerie soft green of the aurora to bathe the room. As she kicked off her boots, she saw that the comforter on his king-size bed was turned down on one side as if he’d been about to go to bed alone. It was an unexpectedly lonely sight that struck Elizabeth as sad.
He reached for her in the darkness, and they were kissing again, tongues swirling together in a dance that was so enticing and so right. She trailed her hands across his chest, weaving her fingers through his chest hair, circling one of his nipples with her fingertip. She wanted to know every inch of this man, every detail that was uniquely Jack.
His hands, so capable and encompassing, slipped under her shirt. One hand slid to her back, holding her in place, as the other moved to her left breast and cupped it, squeezing so it filled into his hand, pressing a few fingers against her nipple in a way that made her breath hitch. She needed her bare skin against his, no more waiting, and she let him peel her shirt up and over her head. Then she slipped out of her leggings, which fell with a whisper to the carpeted floor.
Jack shook his head at her nakedness. He began to step back, to take her in from a distance, but no way was she letting him go. She grabbed the waistband of his jeans and pulled him back, unbuttoning his jeans with a fast flick of her fingers, and then pushing down his pants and boxers at once. At last, she saw all of him and couldn’t help her gasp at the sight of his proud, glorious manhood jutting forward.
“You’re perfect,” he said as he wrapped her in his arms. “You’re perfect for me.”
“I agree,” she said. “We’re perfect for each other.”
Their bodies pressed against each other, and along with the heat radiating from his hardness against her stomach and her own aching arousal, Elizabeth felt an odd sense of comfort. It was as if they were made to be together sweetly as well as passionately. The way his chin tucked over the top of her head. The smallness of her own body tucked into his tall frame.
They stood there like that for just a moment, but it was the kind of moment that felt like a premonition. Elizabeth imagined them like this fifty years in the future, two old people who’d loved each other for a long time, two people whose bodies were made for each other.
Jack put his hand on the back of her neck, his strong fingers gentle in her hair, and she lifted her face so that he could kiss her again.
As Jack had known it would, kissing Elizabeth’s sweet lips downstairs had made him throw his reluctance out the window. There was no use trying to get her out of his mind. Now, with her body against his, feeling the delicate strength of her nakedness pressed against him, he had a clear feeling of rightness. For the first time since he could remember, he let go of his sense of obligation and instead followed what his heart—and hell, his body—wanted.
Screw the past, he thought. This is right now, and this is right.
He kissed her again, feeling the give and take of their tongues and mouths and hands exploring bodies. The room was chilly, and Jack drew her to the bed and under the warmth of the covers.
Tucked together in a cozy cocoon, Jack let his hands roam over Elizabeth’s body, feeling the curve of her hips. He loved her small, trim breasts, loved the way his hands covered them completely. He brought his mouth to one hard nipple, kissed it, tasted it, and she let out a small moan.
She threw her leg over his hip, opening herself to the length of him. The tip of his cock found her willing opening and Jack felt a hard, wonderful ache at the knowledge that he was about to find the release that he sought in her. He also discovered how wet and ready she was for him.
He brought one hand down to caress her there, and she gasped in response.
How often he’d fantasized about this very scenario … and with the odd light of an Alaska winter’s night in the room, the buzzy haze of the drinks he’d had, and the too-good sensations of Elizabeth touching him, kissing him, wet for him, it felt like a fantasy still.
“Is this really happening?” he murmured, kissing the soft skin beneath her ear. “Or is this a dream?”
“This better be happening,” she said. “Because I need you to make love to me, Jack. Make love to me like I know you’ve been wanting to.”
“I have wanted to,” he confessed. “I haven’t wanted anything else since I met you.”
Elizabeth ran her fingers through his hair, tightened her grip, and pressed her hips forward, bringing him closer.
“I want to make you mine,” he said as he slid
into her.
“I am yours.” Then she let out a half-sigh, half-moan and arched into him, drawing him inside her to the hilt.
Elizabeth wanted to cry out with pleasure as Jack moved inside her. But the night felt too silent, the moment too pure, and instead she closed her eyes and allowed the feeling of quiet completeness to fill her universe. This was how it was supposed to be between them. Nothing in the outside world mattered. The bed was their hideaway, theirs and theirs alone. Last names didn’t matter here, only bodies. Only hearts.
She raised her arms above her head, and Jack intertwined his fingers with hers. His rhythm was impeccable as he pressed into her with what felt like equal parts love and lust. Their lovemaking was tender and firm and all she’d ever wanted.
When she felt him tighten, she knew he’d explode soon, and she opened herself more. Sped up their rhythm. Deepened it. Scraped her bottom teeth along his jawbone. Moved one of his hands to her breast. Taking the cue, his mouth soon found its way there, and his hot tongue on her flesh made her gasp. Made her think ahead to future lovemaking when that tongue might tease her to orgasm.
“Jack!” she gasped.
He straightened his body along the length of her and raised himself above her. She spread her legs wide, and his thrusts became deeper. His cock was perfect, long and thick. She gripped his ass, flesh soft and muscles hard, and it drove him onward.
“Harder,” she begged.
After wanting him for so long, waiting for so long, she thought she’d never get enough of his steel-hard cock plunging into her. She felt the tension of her orgasm beginning to build and welcomed the explosive release, but when he slowed his rhythm, his hands moving over every contour of her body with his eyes closed, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her, it felt exquisite.
It felt like she was precious to him.
He picked up the pace again, and she moaned. Her hips rose to meet his, and he was so deep in her that it felt like they were one. She felt her pleasure building to a crescendo, and when Jack cried out, she did, too. Seeing him shudder above her was enough to cause her to reel forward into an orgasm as intensely bright as a shooting star.
From The Ashes (Golden Falls Fire Book 3) Page 15
