“I did, but someone keeps telling me how awesome they are. That someone even likes to lick them, so I’ve decided to embrace them.”
“This someone sounds smart.”
“He has his moments.” She removed his shirt and traced her tongue around his nipple. “He’s very tasty. Sometimes I just want to eat him up.”
He fisted his hands in her hair. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” This time, she grazed his nipple lightly with her teeth. “In fact, I think I’m going to make a meal of him…right here, right now.”
“I should do the gentlemanly thing and tell you that you don’t have to do this.”
“But you aren’t a gentleman,” she said with a smile. She kissed the center of his chest and drew her tongue all the way to his navel. Then she stripped him to his underwear…drew the material beneath his sac.
“No. I’m not.”
“Guess what?” She clasped his erection. He was long and thick. Hard as steel. Lips parted, she traced her thumb over the tip, a bead of moisture rising up to greet her. “I’m very glad about that fact.”
He moaned a sound of abject pleasure.
She lowered her head, and as he stiffened with anticipation, she said, “Testing, testing. One, two, three. Is this thing on?”
He barked out a laugh, just as she’d hoped. “It’s on. I swear.”
It most definitely was, and it was only growing harder by the second. Nearly writhing with the intensity of his need, he waited…waited…for her to run her tongue over the head. The moment she did, he groaned an animal sound and released her hair to grab the sheet, as if he feared getting too rough with her.
“Now, just so you know,” she said, batting her lashes at him. Then she gave the tip another lick. As he jerked, feminine power flooded her. “I’ve never known the touch of a man. I’ve lived on a deserted island my whole life, and you’re the first male I’ve ever seen. I’m going to do my best to give you pleasure, but I’m afraid I’ll fail.”
The look he leveled on her suggested he’d never seen a woman, either. Well, not one like her. “I’m an iron-willed explorer and a hard taskmaster. You won’t fail, because I won’t let you. I knew you were untouched the moment I spotted you in your fig leaf bra and panty set, but I decided to take a chance on you anyway.”
What!
“Lesson one. Once you start, do not stop,” he said. “When you mess up, and you will, because you’re so innocent and all, I’ll give you pointers. You’re welcome.”
Jerk, she thought, trying not to laugh. He’d turned the tables on her, teasing her right back. Well, she would teach him the error of his ways.
Dorothea sucked his entire length into her mouth, earning a roar…and she didn’t stop until she’d wrung him dry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DOROTHEA WOKE ALONE, no sign of Daniel or the dogs anywhere, but at least she awoke with a smile. After her gentleman lover had come in her mouth, he’d thanked her, embraced her, and she’d thought he’d had every intention of easing the need he’d stoked in her—but he’d fallen asleep instead. She couldn’t work up a good upset; for once, his sleep was peaceful.
However, she remained awake and on alert. If he had another nightmare, she would be ready, a blow job engaged.
As sunlight had stolen into the room through the crack in her curtains, fatigue had gotten the better of her and she’d finally drifted off. But she’d ached for Daniel. Oh, how she’d ached.
How she still ached.
It’s my turn to come.
Rather than going for a run, she locked herself in the bathroom, stripped and hopped in the shower. Afterward, she painted her nails with a white undercoat, and yellow, blue, purple and pink stripes. And, rather than dressing, she donned the infamous raincoat. The last time she’d worn it, she’d been sick with nerves. Now she shook with anticipation.
She was going to trust Daniel with her body. After all, he’d trusted her with his past and she’d trusted him with her greatest heartbreak. He’d had his hands and mouth all over her. Why not his eyes, too?
No more holding back. No more regrets.
She should probably wait, at least until after working hours, but time wasn’t her friend. If she lost her nerve…
After tying the belt around her waist, she exited her bedroom. I can do this.
A pale-faced Holly waited at the bottom of the stairs. She was chewing on her nails.
Dorothea expected to feel rage, but all she felt was a hollow sensation. “Not now, Holly. Go to school.” She tried to pass, but her sister jumped in her way.
“I’m sorry, Dottie. You were right. I’ve been a spoiled brat. I wanted to hurt you, but I wanted you back with Jazz, too. I thought we could be a real family and this hole in my chest would finally be filled.”
“Not now,” she repeated. She was too raw, the wounds too fresh. “And don’t call me Dottie.”
This time, Holly let her pass without impediment when she sidestepped.
“I didn’t know,” Holly cried behind her. “I didn’t know you’d named the baby after me.”
Dorothea paused but didn’t look back. “You shouldn’t have to know to forgive me or feel sorry for me or whatever it is you’re doing. What ever happened to just because I love you?” She kicked into motion, determined to push the encounter out of her mind. Today was about pleasure, only pleasure. Everything else could wait.
The sound of hammering drew her to the first floor…to the door of the theme room. The open door. She gaped, overcome by shock. The room was bursting with activity. Harlow was painting another mural. Jessie Kay sat on the bed, her head bent over her sewing. Daniel was building a new headboard. He was shirtless, which wasn’t fair to Dorothea’s hormones. The dogs were at his feet, chewing on his boots. Lyndie and Ryanne were chatting about the upcoming spring festival and picking up strips of tattered comforter. Jude and Brock were sanding the floor.
Tenderness welled inside her. Family wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. These people loved and supported her.
Daniel pointed the hammer at Jude. “If you want your skull to remain in its current condition, you’ll—” His gaze found Dorothea, and he quieted. He took in her “outfit” and the darkness of his pupils spilled over his irises. “Get out. Get out of the room. All of you. Now. Brock, take the dogs.”
His urgency thrilled her, arousing her to a fevered pitch.
“What the hell, man?” Jude grumbled.
“Well, clutch my pearls.” Jessie Kay placed her needles and material in a basket. “What’s gotten into my sweet Dan—Ohhhhh. I get it now. Our boy wants a little some-some from his girl.”
Jude and Brock noticed Dorothea, and Brock smiled a wicked smile. Jude nodded. Laughing, her friends clapped. Dorothea stood her ground, unabashed.
Daniel gave his friends a push. “Out!”
Everyone rushed into the hall. The guys patted her on the shoulder, and the girls winked at her. Daniel never took his eyes off her. She placed the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob, stepped deeper into the room and, with a little push, closed the door. The locked engaged.
He took her hand and studied her nails. He kissed her knuckles.
This man…
Her legs grew unsteady as she moved to the center of the room, but her blood practically fizzed like champagne bubbles as she untied the coat. The material gaped open, and cool air kissed her heated skin.
Daniel sucked in a breath. “Off.” A croak. “All the way.”
I think you’re perfect just the way you are.
She shrugged, the material slipping to the floor, leaving her bare. In the bright light of day.
Tension pulsed from him as he walked around her. Slowly. A predator soon to devour his prey. He had on pants, but she was naked, and she experienced a sense of h
eightened awareness, very conscious of the fact that she was being studied as thoroughly as a science experiment. Her heart raced, determined to win against some invisible competitor. Her nipples puckered. The apex of her thighs ached, and her bones felt as if they were melting.
“Do you know,” he began in a husky voice, “how beautiful you are?” He stopped in front of her, so tall and wide he dwarfed her. His gaze burned through flesh and blood and encountered soul. “Exquisite.”
The intensity of the moment staggered her, but a tangible weight held her in place.
“And you, Daniel.” How to explain the depths of her feelings for him? Her deep admiration for him, spirit, soul and body. “You are amazing. Wonderful. Strong. Sexy. You are magnificent. And sexy. You’re smart and talented, your carving skills unsurpassed. But it’s more than that. You are kind. You care, and it makes others care for you. You’re protective and…perfect. I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”
He reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed over her tattoo, then one of her scars. At the moment of contact, she inhaled sharply; how could a simple touch be so incredibly pleasurable? Easy. Because Daniel was the one who’d touched her. The rasp and heat of his skin, the musk of his scent, the awed look in his eyes—they were her favorite things in the whole world.
“The things you do to me,” he said. He bent his head and fit his teeth around her nipple, taking a little nip. Blood rushed to meet him, causing the bud to swell with need. He gave the other one a nip, as well. “The things I’m going to do to you…”
“I hope your energy is high this morning.” She shivered. “I’ve got a little of that insatiable lust you mentioned.”
“The job of a gentleman lover is never done.” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. The sheets were chilly as he laid her down, and his tags and the locket were like ice when they clanged against her chest.
She loved the dark smattering of hair on his pecs and under his navel. Loved the bronzed hue of his skin. The tensile strength and sinew he’d earned on the battlefield. She loved his scars; they said I lived, I survived.
He rubbed his hand up and down his rigid length before he unfastened his pants, maintaining a slow, languid pace, not in any kind of hurry, but savoring every second he spent with her. She loved that, too. They’d sprinted to the finish line before, and as amazing as it had been, this was better. She got to savor him, too.
The pants were kicked aside. Soon his boxer briefs joined the pile. Because the lights were on, she received her first full-length view of him, and—someone save me—he was big. Really big. Her X-rated Prince Charming.
She cursed the fear that had kept her from this, from seeing all of him.
“Spread your legs.” His voice was nothing but a harsh rasp. “Let me see you.”
She obeyed without hesitation, showing him just how wet she was for him. Just how intensely he affected her.
His eyelids hooded as he traced a finger along her aching core. “Look how pink and pretty you are.”
Pleasure zinged through her, and goose bumps broke out all over her skin. “I think I was made just for you,” she said, almost drunk on pleasure, remembering when he’d admitted her body fit his.
“That’s right. Made just for me. I’m the only one who can have you. The only one who can have this.” The possessiveness of his tone was almost as potent as his next caress.
“Then take it.” Her hips arched up to meet him. A challenge. A dare. “Take it now.”
“Oh, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire…and I’m going to make you scream for it.” He took her hips in his hands and yanked her to the edge of the mattress. After he placed her feet on his shoulders, he dropped to his knees.
So vulnerable. And yet she had never been so turned on.
He leaned in to nuzzle her inner thigh. The stubble of his beard tickled her but also sent a riptide of pleasure zinging through her, and she moaned. He kissed around her core, and waiting for his mouth to reach her where she needed him most was as much agony as ecstasy. Bowing her back, she reached overhead and fisted the pillows, offering herself up to him in every way. Calloused fingers kneaded her breasts before tracing a path of flame down her stomach…but still his mouth remained just out of reach.
She’d told him to take what he wanted. Now she would heed her own advice. She lifted her hips again, higher and higher, until…
Contact.
His tongue swiped out, and she moaned with bliss…rapture. Her head fogged. He fit his hands under her bottom, holding her up as he licked her, faster and faster. When she was crying his name incoherently, he delved his tongue deep, deep inside her to mimic the motions of sex.
“Will never get enough of this,” he told her, and replaced his tongue with two fingers. The emptiness was finally, deliciously filled. He sucked on her little bundle of nerves and brought her to a swift and brutal climax.
She screamed to the ceiling, her spasms growing in intensity, racking her entire body. When the last one faded, she sagged against the mattress and tried to catch her breath.
He jackknifed to his feet, his lips glistening in the light. His erection stretched toward her, weeping at the tip.
“We’re not even close to being done, love.” With one fluid motion, he flipped her to her stomach. The mattress bounced as he worked her into the position he wanted her. On her hands and knees, her bottom in the air. Delicious! His strength and aggression were on Technicolor display, his hunger for her driving him.
“You even have freckles on your back,” he said. “I am the luckiest man on this planet.”
And she was the luckiest woman. After all her trials and tribulations, Daniel was her reward. “Freckle marks the spot.”
He laughed but quickly sobered, too caught up in the moment…the need. Then he leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back. Heat to heat. Skin to skin. His erection teased her opening but didn’t enter her.
Warm breath fanning over her nape, he said, “I like having you at my mercy.”
“Less gloating, more filling.”
A foil wrapper ripped, the sound ramping her up.
He ran her earlobe between his teeth. “I know you are perfect just the way you are.”
With a shout, he thrust inside her. Pleasure. So much pleasure. Part of her died, part of her came to life.
When he pulled out and slammed back in, the bed rattled. Another wicked sound. She was wet, soaked, and he somehow grew harder, as if he were a sword forged in her fire. Everything was a stimulant. The air. The forcefulness of his breath. The way his fingers dug into her hips. She would be bruised tomorrow, and she would love it; she would remember his possession, and she would smile a secret smile.
He reached around her and caught her swollen little nerves between two fingers. Fingers he scissored. A climax rocked her, swift and sure, her heart practically exploding as her inner walls clenched on him.
His body jerked against her, and he roared her name, coming, coming so hard she felt it. She was branded. Forever marked as Daniel’s girl.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DANIEL DIDN’T WANT to leave Strawberry Valley. He’d begun to dread the arrival of the weekend, when he would have to venture into the city for a job—where he would have to spend an entire weekend away from Thea. But Friday morning arrived on schedule and, because he’d made a commitment, he stayed in.
Jazz and Charity had stuck around longer than anticipated, but they, too, were leaving as soon as they finished filming some kind of segment at the inn. A home-in-the-heartland piece they hoped the network would air to catapult the inn into the vacation destination for all Oklahomans. Their way of apologizing to Thea, he was sure.
Since he and Thea had made love in the theme room, he’d spent every night with her. They’d drunk golden milk on the roof wh
ile gazing at stars. Sleeping still wasn’t his favorite thing, and nightmares still plagued him, but his girl knew just what to do. He always fell back to sleep with a smile.
They’d already said goodbye, before he’d driven to his dad’s to pack and get the dogs situated, but damn it, he needed one more kiss.
Virgil was in the kitchen with Adonis and Echo, eating a plate of food Carol had sent over. Daniel joined them, and the dogs rushed over to demand pets.
“Don’t forget to—” he began.
“I know, I know,” Virgil said. “Take the dogs to Dorothea at seven, when she’s done for the day.”
“Thank you.”
“They’re my granddogs. They’d be just fine spending the nights with me.”
“Yeah, but she needs them.” Never going to be alone again. Daniel poured himself a glass of orange juice. “You still thinking I’m not good for Thea?”
“Well, isn’t that what you think?”
“I…don’t know,” he admitted. His need for her still scared him, despite his hatred of fear, but he was working on it. He sat at the table and buried his head in his hands. “How did you know Mom was the one for you? That you could risk being with her…one day losing her.”
“Easy. I couldn’t breathe without her.” So simply stated, without fear or reservation. “She was worth any risk.”
Jude and Brock strode into the kitchen. Jude was frowning, of course, and Brock looked posthungover and prehungover at the same time.
“Need coffee.” Jude scrubbed a hand down his face, revealing cracked and bruised knuckles.
“Rough night?” Daniel asked.
“Ryanne banned Jude from the bar for fighting.” Brock pilfered a piece of bacon from Virgil’s plate. When Virgil slapped his hand away, he growled, “You should thank me. I’m helping reduce your cholesterol, old man.”
“You let me worry about my cholesterol. You worry about the fork you’re gonna be wearing if you reach for another piece of bacon.”
Brock reached for another piece.
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