Come Sundown

by Nora Roberts

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  He might have come around to get her door, but she didn’t give him the chance. So he took her hand as they walked across the gravel and up the steps to the porch. “I was smart enough to get some food and beverages in case we want some, and coffee for the morning if we stay awhile.”

  “More interesting by the minute.”

  She unlocked the door, turned on the light in the living area. “Why don’t I give you a tour?” She tossed the key aside, then her coat. “We can start with the bedroom.”

  He walked with her.

  “We here at Bodine Resort offer rustic luxury. Hot tub on the back deck, big soaking tub, rain shower with jets, premium linens.”

  Those linens spread over a bed already turned down for the night, one framed in thick posts and facing a window he imagined offered beautiful views in the daylight.

  He was more interested in the view right in front of him.

  “Full kitchen, which we’ll happily stock upon guest request, wood-burning fireplace, flat-screen TVs, and, well, whatever we can do to make the guest’s stay memorable.

  “Why don’t we see if we can make your stay memorable. You can start by getting me out of this dress.”

  “It’s a nice dress. I’ve been thinking about getting you out of it all night.”

  “Nothing stopping you.”

  He stepped to her, took her face in his hands, laid his lips on hers. Soft at first, then a little deeper when her hands gripped his hips.

  As he’d done on the dance floor, he twirled her around, made her laugh. Pressing his lips to her shoulder, he drew down the zipper at the back of the dress.

  A long, smooth back, bisected by a thin line of midnight blue.

  She toed off her boots as the dress slid down.

  Long again, and lean, subtle curves, more midnight blue riding low over narrow hips.

  “Well, look at you.”

  “Is looking all you want?”

  “Not nearly, but it’ll do for a minute.” He traced a fingertip over the tops of her breasts, felt her shiver. “Yeah, you sure got prettier.”

  “I ought to get to look some myself.”

  She unbuttoned his shirt, ran her fingertip over the line of exposed flesh. “You keep in shape.”

  “I do what I can.”

  To see for herself, she shoved the shirt aside. “Well.” She used her palms now, pressing them to a hard chest, a tight stomach. “Look at you. Used to be you could count your ribs at a quarter-mile distance.”

  She looked up at him from under her lashes, that sly smile, and unbuckled his belt.

  “Bodine.”

  As she flipped open the button of his jeans, he yanked her to him, crushed his mouth to hers, felt his body all but implode when she chained her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist.

  He fell onto the bed with her.

  Hot body and cool sheets under him. Her hands digging into his back, then dragging at his jeans.

  He kicked off his boots, sent them tumbling to the floor with a thud. Helped her strip off his jeans.

  She lifted her hips, pressed against him until the need all but blinded him.

  He struggled to catch his breath, his control. “It’s been a long night of foreplay.”

  Impatient hands yanked at his boxers. “Main event, Skinner. Now. Oh God, right now.”

  His hands weren’t altogether steady as he stripped her panties away, flipped the hook of her bra so he could taste those lovely, lovely breasts. He wanted to know she ached as he did, just another minute to make her ache.

  Then he was inside her, and he swore the world quaked.

  She cried out, not in shock but with a kind of triumph. Her hands vised at his hips, digging in, urging speed as hers pumped under him.

  He had to clamp her hands over his head, press down, or it would have been over before it really began.

  “Just a minute,” he managed. “Just a minute.”

  “If you stop, I’ll have to kill you.”

  “Not stopping. Couldn’t. Jesus, Bodine.” His mouth ran over her throat, her breasts. “Where’s this been?”

  “I can’t.” She felt it build, beyond her control, that rising storm of deep, dark pleasure, that instant where she clung. “I can’t.”

  It ripped through her, gorgeous, glorious, the rush of heat, the pound of pulse, and the slow, staggering fall.

  “God. God. Can’t breathe.”

  “You’re breathing,” he whispered, taking them both up again.

  He gave her that speed now, the power with it. Dazed, nearly delirious, she heard the rhythmic slap of his flesh against hers, saw his eyes were like tornado clouds—deep, deep gray with green undertones.

  He was the storm inside her.

  When it broke, broke for both of them, she let it sweep her away.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  They never opened the wine or cracked a beer. By the time exhaustion trumped lust, Bodine fell asleep sprawled on top of him with his hand still tangled in her hair.

  Still, Bodine’s body clock woke her before dawn. Clock aside, her body felt loose, warm, and thoroughly used. They’d shifted in the few hours of night they hadn’t been active, and Bodine, who’d never considered herself much of a snuggler, realized she’d snuggled right up against Callen.

  As his arm lay over her waist and one of his legs hooked over hers, she didn’t imagine he minded.

  She closed her eyes and, cozy as a kitten, hoped sleep would slip her away for another hour.

  But she could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady. She could smell his skin. And she could remember exactly how his hands—rough, hard, and skilled—learned and fulfilled every secret she owned.

  Sleep wasn’t happening, and since she wasn’t entirely sure she could handle another round of sex, she eased away and rose to start her day.

  Callen dreamed of her, of lying naked with her in a field of meadow grass. Starry little white flowers scattered through her hair. They moved together slowly, as need, greed, impatience hadn’t allowed through the night. But in the meadow, sweet overcame urgency.

  He could watch her face, the way those green eyes deepened as they held on his, the way her breath sighed out. The way her hand lifted to lay against his cheek.

  Rain fell so the grass shined with it, as green as her eyes.

  Wet grass, wet hair, wet woman.

  He woke reaching for her.

  Baffled, he lay where he was, assessing the tone of light that told him sunrise was still a ways off.

  And the rain in the dream? The sound of the shower in the adjoining bathroom.

  The dream, the tenor of it, amazed him, and embarrassed him even more. Erotic was one thing, but meadows and flowers and rain showers? That was downright romantic.

  He’d just nudge that over in a corner for now.

  He heard the shower shut off and, before long, the door opening.

  “It’s Sunday,” he said.

  “Oh, you’re awake. Yeah, Sunday all day.”

  He heard her milling around the room, saw the shadow of her in the dark. “Why are you out of bed?”

  “I’ve got this alarm in me. Sometimes I can shut it back off again, sometimes I can’t. I gotta have coffee. Go ahead and go back to sleep awhile. I know you’re working today, but you’ve got a couple hours. I’m just going to borrow your shirt here until I get some coffee in me.”

  When she walked out, he stared up at the ceiling. How was a man supposed to sleep after some romantic dream—even if it sat in a corner? Especially when a woman stepped out of a shower making the air smell of honey?

  When he imagined her wearing nothing but his shirt?

  The weaker sex, his ass. Women had all the damn power just being women.

  He got up, walked naked into the bathroom to grab a shower of his own, and found a boxed toothbrush and a travel-size tube of toothpaste on the counter.

  She didn’t miss a trick.

  By the time he ca
me out, coffee scented the air. She’d lit a fire, and stood by the big front window, drinking her coffee.

  Wearing nothing but his shirt.

  “The elk are calling,” she said. “Coming down to graze. Sunrise is close. We’ll see it from here, and it’s a hell of a show.”

  She turned back, long legs bare, his shirt hanging on her, just a couple of the middle buttons fastened. Her hair hung wet, sleek, dark as midnight.

  All the power, he thought again.

  “We’ve got some Greek yogurt and granola, if you want some.”

  “Why would anybody?”

  “I know.” Laughing, she walked back to the open kitchen, opened the fridge. “I tell myself I’ll learn to like it, but I’m losing faith in that. I got some chips there. Picked them up in case we got hungry last night.”

  He glanced at them, thought what the hell, and opened the bag. He just needed a few minutes for his system to settle again. Leaning back on the counter, he watched her mix a blob of yogurt with a scoop of granola.

  “I just need to change up the sheets and towels, give the bathroom a cleaning, wash up the dishes.”

  “I’ll give you a hand with that.”

  “It won’t take long. I can ride into the BAC with you, then walk to the office. I’m not getting in my workout otherwise.” She ate a spoonful, winced. “It never gets any better.”

  Callen held out the bag of chips.

  She struggled, lost. “Just this once.” She reached into the bag. “Why is everything that tastes so good bad for you?” She frowned at the yogurt. “Maybe if I crumbled up chips in it.”

  Callen took the bowl from her, set it aside. “I’ve got something to say.”

  Her eyes went from amused to wary. “All right.”

  “I don’t know where this is heading, where we’re heading, but as long as we’re on the road— Are we still on the road?”

  “We’re standing here after rolling around naked half the night, having coffee and barbecue potato chips. It looks like the road to me.”

  “Okay then. As long as we are, it’s just us. We don’t have any other traveling companions.”

  Studying his face, she ate another chip. “I’m taking that to mean neither of us sleeps with anyone else.”

  “That’s the meaning.”

  Still studying him, she drank some coffee. “I think you’re probably aware at this point that I like sex just fine.”

  “Yeah, I got that. You’re good at it, too.”

  “I like to think so.” Enjoying the casual sin of it, she crunched into another chip. “But liking sex doesn’t mean I play fast and loose.”

  “I never thought you did, and I’m not just talking about you. There are two of us here.”

  She pursed her lips, nodded. “All right. So, a reasonable bargain. No hitchikers, for either of us.”

  After setting her mug down, she dusted the salt off her fingers. “Do you want a spit oath?”

  It was that damn sly smile again. “Nope.”

  He tossed aside the bag of chips, shoved her back against the refrigerator. “I’ve got something else in mind.”

  He took her then and there, more fiercely than he’d intended, while the rising sun burned red against the windows.

  * * *

  While Bodine didn’t absolutely have to go into the office, she’d already scheduled it into her Sunday. Just an hour or ninety minutes, to clear up some paperwork. She considered pulling out her gym bag—always packed—and taking another hour in the fitness center.

  But she figured she’d had plenty of exercise during the last twenty-four hours. Enough that she hadn’t balked when Callen insisted on dropping her off right at the door rather than letting her walk from the BAC.

  She left him the tote of wine, beer, and coffee—told him to keep it on hand, then surprised herself, and him, by leaning over and giving him a memorable see-you-later kiss.

  To her mind, if you slept with a man and intended to keep right on doing it, you shouldn’t be ashamed if people knew it.

  She strolled into her office, humming a little, and decided to continue the screw-it state of mind that had started the day with potato chips.

  She grabbed a Coke rather than the water she’d been trying to drink more of.

  She’d barely settled at her desk when Jessica clipped by, backtracked. “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

  “Just for an hour or so,” Bodine told her. “You’re on the post-wedding brunch.”

  “I gave Chelsea lead, but I’m standing by. So far, so good. The theme continues with Western omelettes, breakfast burritos, biscuits and gravy, huckleberry mimosas, and so on.”

  Brows lifted, Jessica angled her head. “You must really like the dress.”

  “I do, and I consider it a sign that I’m doing the Walk of I’m Not a Bit Shamed.”

  “Good. He’s pretty terrific. I really enjoyed having the time to get to know him, and everyone, better. God.” She stepped in, shut the door, leaned back on it. “I slept with your brother.”

  “Rory or Chase? Joking,” Bodine said with a laugh as Jessica’s mouth dropped open. “He’s also pretty terrific.”

  “I initiated it.”

  “I’ve known him all my life.” Bodine tapped her own cheek. “This is not my surprised face.”

  “You’re okay with it.” On a kind of whew, Jessica ran a hand over her smooth twist of hair. “I know we’d talked about it in the theoretical sense, but now it’s reality. I’m relieved you’re okay with it.”

  “I’m assuming you’re okay with it, too.”

  “I … I’m exhausted,” Jessica said with her own laugh. “I don’t want this to be weird, so I’ll just say: Once Chase gets off the mark, he has a lot of stamina. And that is weird to say to his sister.”

  “On the contrary, it makes me proud. I love him, Jessie. There’s nothing weird about knowing he’s interested in someone I like and respect, and she’s interested right back.”

  “You make friends easily.” A touch of wistfulness ghosted around the smile. “I’ve seen it. You make them, and you keep them. I’ve made acquaintances easily, and they come and go. I want to tell you how much I value you as a friend. Now I’m going to let you get to work, go hover around Chelsea for an hour or so, then I’m going home. I need a nap.”

  “Do a friend a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “Come back so you can drive me home before you take a nap.”

  “You got it.”

  Alone, Bodine took another moment to consider something else interesting. If Jessica wasn’t halfway in love with Chase, she was one step away.

  “Sweet,” she said aloud, then turned to her computer.