In The Hay (Uninhibited in Apple Trail, Arkansas) (2 page)

Her nose wrinkled. “Are there things in it?”

“Things?” He blinked. He’d have their naked bodies in there, if that counted as things.

“Fish. Turtles. Snakes?”

He laughed. “I would imagine.”

She shook her head. “Can’t do it then.”

“That’s not very adventurous of you.”

“When I was nine my parents took me to the beach. Hundreds of people there. I got in the water for ten minutes before a jellyfish got me a couple of times on the same leg. Parents threw me in the car. Mom screamed and freaked out the whole way to the hospital. Dad was hollering at her to calm down. Most of what I remember was the pain. Lasted for days. Doctors said I was likely allergic now since I got stung several times. I never got back in. If it’s not crystal blue and smelling like chlorine, I’m out.”

“Understandable. What else?”

“Um... I’ve never walked a railroad.”

“A railroad?”

“Yeah.” Light was coming back in her eyes like when she’d been on the dance floor. A breathlessness was taking over her chest. “I’ve never walked down the tracks. Like you see people do on TV.” She walked past him and stared toward the small tracks crossing Main Street. “We have some near our house, but Momma used to tell me my foot would get stuck and a train will run me over and cut off my leg. Or kill me. She told me that stuff to keep me off of them as a kid but it stuck,
ya
know?”

“I think you’d probably be safe over there.” It was hard as hell, but he forced his mouth not to smile, not wanting her to think he was laughing at her, because he wasn’t. But because his parents pulled that same line with him. And probably every other kid out there too. “It’s on pavement. No wood slats to catch your feet on.” And with that, she ran. “Hey!”

Only her laughter touched him and he found himself grinning over it. He gave chase and caught up to her as she was standing on the metal tracks, walking them with one foot in front of the other. He got on the rail next to her and walked. Even though the rails were pretty well level with the pavement, he still put his arms out for balance to match her stance.

“Who are you, Drew? Tell me something.”

“I’m from Little Rock. I’m visiting my cousin and helping him install a fence on his property.” He’d leave the part out about needing to prove himself to his father and all that. “You?”

“Visiting, too. I’m from Fayetteville. I saw you talking to the cop in the bar.”

“He wanted to know if we were together. He thought you were drunk and wanted to make sure you weren’t driving.”

She stopped. “I haven’t had a drink all night! I don’t drink!”

“I know.” He shook his head. “I mean, I knew you hadn’t been drinking, not that you don’t.”

“Why are you’re out here with me, Drew...?”

“Hamilton. And I’m here because you grabbed me by the shirt in the bar and kissed me without hardly a word.” He winked at her gaping mouth. “I’ve never had that done to me.” That much was true. Any other women had carried on at least a five minute conversation first.

“Hamilton? Any relation to Riley?”

He nodded. “That’s my cousin.”

“I’m house sitting for my cousin. She said to call a Shellie Chambers who lived with Riley Hamilton if I needed anything. Small world.”

“Small town. Sign said there was all of about nine hundred living in Apple Trail.”

She looked toward the ground and continued walking the tracks. “How long are you here for?”

“A week. What else do you have planned?”

“I’m not sure. I want to climb a water tower.”

He stumbled. “That’s kind of high.”

“I know, but I’ve never done it before.”

“You’re not afraid of heights?”

“Nope.” She wobbled and caught her balance. “Always thought it was fascinating. Never actually tried it.”

“Are you going to paint your name on the side?”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“I think climbing a water tower in general is illegal.”

“Is it?” She stopped, her arms fell to her sides. “I’m not going to do anything but go up and have a look around. That’s all I want. Just to see what the fuss is about.” She started walking again. “Maybe eat something while I’m there.”

God. She was going to tote a picnic basket up a water tower? She could barely walk the train tracks straight. No, not barely. She’d tipped and shook every other step on level ground. She’d break her neck going up a tower. But he kept his mouth shut. For all he knew, she’d thrive on that sort of thing. He cleared his throat. “I would imagine if there’s a locked gate blocking the ladder, then it’s illegal. Trespassing.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll just have to hope there’s not one. I mean, I’m don’t want to get arrested or anything. Just taking chances while I have them.”

And he’d damn well make sure there was a lock there. He halted on the tracks, wondering why he cared. When she glanced at him, he returned to walking. He cared because it was the humane thing to do. If she fell off the tower, he’d feel like shit for knowing about it and not stopping her. Or trying to stop her. “Anything else?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought it all out yet. It’s supposed to rain in a couple days. There’s a good sized hill in the back yard, maybe I’ll do a slip-n-slide. I always thought it would hurt with the plastic scraping against your skin, so I’ve never done it.”

“Squirt Dawn on your plastic.” He glanced over. “You won’t stick and you’ll go faster.”

She blinked. “Good idea.”

“Any reason why you’re doing this list?”

A shoulder shrugged to her ear and dropped just as fast. “Never had the chance to pick things out on my own. When I was a kid mom wanted me to take dance, so I did. Little older, Dad decided I’d like the piano. Jr. High friends said I’d love softball.” Her arms wrapped around her shoulders and she stroked down her biceps. “Don’t get me wrong, those things were alright. I was decent enough at them, but I never got to pick. Even in college, my aunt was pointing me to her sorority or a new friend was pushing me toward one club or another.”

They were at the edge of town. Since Apple Trail wasn’t overly large, he could still see the bar’s red neon sign, End Of The Trail, glowing in the distance. “How far do you want to go?”

“Just a little bit more.”

He walked in silence next to her and found himself smiling while doing this ridiculous thing. He hadn’t walked train tracks since he was a kid, but here he was, doing that very thing. Hell, he hadn’t had time the last eight or nine years to just hang around and do this kind of stupid shit.

There was always something to be done at home. Something he needed to accomplish for his dad. Granted, whatever he finished usually went unnoticed, but Drew knew things were completed. Eventually his dad would too.

And then, Drew could get his hands on part of the company. There was so much room for expansion, so many things he could do. Things he couldn’t even begin to tackle until he had run of the business and his dad trusted him to do a good job.

She stopped suddenly, her arms dropped to her sides. The pavement ended. The tracks continued into the countryside. Continued with wooden slats and rocks surrounding them. “Want to keep going?”

She stared after them.

He shook his head and moved to stand behind her. “Go on. I swear I’ll catch you if you fall. No worries.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m putting my life in your hands and I don’t even know you.”

“I don’t hear a train. Help at the bar is a sprint away, so you’ll be okay even if I blow it. Plenty of time to get help and get you freed.”

“You think?”

He reached forward and wrapped his hands around her slim waist. Her body easily came against his. “Better?”

Her breath hitched. “Maybe just a couple steps. You’re not going to walk on the tracks too, are you?”

He pulled her a little tighter to him, taking complete advantage and wasn’t going to be ashamed of it. By the wiggle of her ass, she was taking a few advantages herself. “I’ll keep both feet on the ground.”

“Well, all right then.” She took a breath and put one foot in front of the other and walked.

Her body shifted and moved under his hands as he kept pace behind her. The rails stunk of hot metal from the blistering afternoon, but when the wind blew, he could pick up her peach scent. It was faint and hard to detect over the smoke from inside the bar, but it was there. He could nearly drink the stuff. It wasn’t too strong or too feminine, just a hint of sexy on this woman and not at all too young.

“Don’t start with me, Mike!” A female shouted through the night.

Lette
startled and Drew immediately firmed his grip around her waist. She wrapped her arms around his holding her. “Who is that?”

He swallowed, trying not to think of how soft she was, how her fingernails were biting into him with a needy grasp. “A blonde who came in the bar shortly before we left would be my guess.”

“Tiffany!” Mike’s voice boomed across the empty streets.

“No. You may be in charge of this town, but not me. You had no right!” With that, a car door slammed and an engine turned over. The whine of a motor rumbled and faded out as it drove down the street.

Lette’s
head leaned back and rested on his shoulder, her cheek against his neck. Her grasp eased to her fingers gliding along his arm. “Well. Eavesdropping on a lovers’ fight. Check.”

He laughed, liking the feel of her tucked against him. She was just so soft everywhere, softer than any other woman he could recall. And soft on the inside too. Open and easily amused, easily fascinated. “I’m not sure they’re lovers.”

“How do you know?”

“They don’t sound like lovers fighting.”

She turned in his arms. “And how would you know what fighting lovers sound like?”

“Well, I…” He cleared his throat. Was he really going to stare at her and admit he’d had several lovers over the years?

“A lover. That’s something else I’ve never done.” Her voice was low and distant, even though she was plastered to his chest. She lifted her leg, her knee pressed against his thigh. Fingers relaxed on his shoulders and nails just barely scraped over his neck.

Chapter Two

If Nicolette’s heart pounded any harder, it’d surely shoot right out of her chest. Ever since driving into town this afternoon, it’d been one amazing moment after another and she could hardly keep her head on straight for all the fun.

And now this.

Drew’s hand was warm against her cheek. His long fingers stroked her jaw. Nicolette wanted to kiss him again. No wait, she wanted him to kiss her again. That burning hot kiss in the bar had lit her head on fire and singed down to her curling toes. He leaned closer. His breath, scented of beer, fanned over her cheeks.

She hadn’t known what had come over her in the bar. She didn’t kiss strange men. She certainly didn’t kiss strange men who’d spent the last half hour staring at her.

It may have been the first time he’d seen her, but she’d seen him that afternoon. She’d been eating a little deli sandwich by a front window and he'd pulled into the gas station across the two lane street. An elderly lady had been at the next pump and he moved over and helped her twist the gas cap off, pumped her fuel, and then walked the woman inside.

Nicolette was pretty sure she’d left her heart beating on the hard red plastic of that diner chair.

He’d been teasing at her mind since this afternoon. Then he’d walked in the bar. She’d known him immediately and it’d been a beam of attraction that all but smacked her over the head. That same jolt of melting awe when he helped that lady, only stronger as he was closer and she was able to see just how good looking he truly was. In fact, the whole time he’d stared at her in the bar, she’d been covertly staring right back.

He was silent, yet overwhelming. Physically shocking, he was so good looking, yet understated and laid back. He was no life of the party like some of those college boys who’d tried feeling her up on the dance floor, but instead flirted with only his eyes undressing her across the room. A thousand conversations had taken place in the form of body language in that half hour they’d looked at one another from the dance floor.

An intense, electrifying connection that had her heartbeat thrumming between her ears. She wasn’t even certain a heartbeat was capable of thrumming, much less doing it between her ears, but it sounded right.

And his lips. They were an excellent pair. Supple, yet firm. Curved just right. And warm. Packed with so much skill, she just knew those lips had been put to work a lot in the past.

And she didn’t mean by talking.

He finger-combed through her hair and lifted her chin to face him. An affair hadn’t been in the plans for her stay in Apple Trail. Just some fun highlights to break away from the scheduled structure of nonstop college.

Plans could change.

In this moment with her thighs tingling in awareness because of Drew’s hand on her cheek, his hard abs on hers, and his knee slipping between her legs, she couldn’t possibly say no or turn back.

It had never been like this before. Boys had kissed her, felt her over a little and such, but never like this. Never had such a careful, controlled touch lit her up where gravity was surely struggling to keep her on the ground.

His lips touched hers. Gentle. Searching and coaxing. His arms wrapped her tight to his body and she gasped, opening for him, allowing the kiss to deepen. An ache built deep in her gut and any
few
remaining reservations were falling off with each gentle swipe of his tongue against hers.

It was all so maddening, exhilarating, frustrating, exciting, and plenty of other
i-n-g
things. Her fingers curled around his shoulders. Hands cupped her ass and he lifted her, pulling her up on her toes and thinning gravity’s hold a touch more. A little further and she’d surely be floating in the clouds. This couldn’t be real. Nicolette didn’t get swept away by a hot man on a humid, summer night. That was fairy tale stuff made up by love-
lorn
teens, not—not twenty-five year old virgins! But here she was, getting swept away and wrapped up in this man on this moonlit night, in this far off town.

Fate had handed her a fantasy. A once in a lifetime fantasy for an unforgettable piece in time she was determined to take full advantage of.

Heat swelled between her thighs and she curved her pelvis up, shuddering, as she stroked the length of him. Just full-out-diving-off-a-bridge and taking a risk. It couldn’t get any better than this. Oh wait. It could.

He wasn’t whispering bullshit lines like
I love you
and
if you loved me…
That’s what really made this fantasy. Could she even call it a fantasy since it was really happening? Reality just seemed dull and like her daily-nerve wracking college life where nothing was right or in place. Her life was a bad paisley print dress. Everything was in order and patterned and supposedly perfect, but also so screwed up.

She cringed, thinking of just two days where the most exciting, fun thing was if she happened to run into a guy on campus and he picked up her books for her…then left her standing alone in the hallway.

But there would be no feeling left behind and wondering what if she had asked for a number or suggested lunch? This time she was taking what she wanted.

All week, she was taking what she wanted.

She reached down and grabbed Drew’s hand, pulling him away from the railroad tracks and into the darkened grasses not ten feet away. Taking him to what she wanted. This was nothing more than sating an aching, deep, craving need and on her terms. Something that had tempted, teased and on occasion frightened her, she was doing.

“
Lette
,” his roughened voice cracked and was hardly heard over the wind swaying through the dry, crinkling grass.

“
Shh
.” She tugged him deeper into the hay field until he stopped.

He pulled on her hand, spinning her back to him. Lips crushed over hers in the dark. Bodies crushed. Breaths panted heavy in the warm night. His hand gripped the back of her neck and fingers curled through her sweat damp hair, lifting the thick, surely knotted mass from her nape and allowing the cool breeze to dry her heated skin.

Exciting.

Intoxicating.

“This is far enough. No one is out here.”

She wrapped her arms around his head and sank with him to her knees and further down until she was on her back and clouded in a field of soft grass and Drew. His hand lay flat on her belly, stroking wide between the waist of her skirt and up to the stiff wire of her bra. She shuddered under his touches and wanted to forget all this sweetness. She just wanted him now, in this secluded moment.

There was no need for sweet. Sweet meant feelings and meaning. And this was just something for her. It meant nothing between
them.

She reached low between them and inched his shirt up his chest. The soft cotton gone, his hot skin kissed against her belly. His hands left her long enough to remove his shirt completely and he was back to totally surrounding her. The heat of his naked skin covered her. Smells of spicy cologne on his neck surrounded her. His chest hair scraped gently against her sensitive skin. She reached up and flattened her hands on his broad chest. Soft hairs tickled her palms. Broad, solid muscles flexed under her hands.

He inched her thighs apart and knelt between. The course denim was a welcome roughness against her legs. Long fingers curved along her leg and hiked her skirt higher. His hips fit between her thighs. The stiff front of his jeans slid against her aching opening.

Freeing.

Enchanting.

He trailed open mouthed kisses along her jaw, neck, and shoulders. Hands shook against her sides as he raised her shirt higher, lifting it above her breasts. He was nervous? Surely not, but it tickled her that he appeared to be.

Nicolette leaned forward and lifted her shirt off. When she started back against the ground, his arms held her up and against him. “Wait.”

The hot skin of his chest touched her cheek. His arms gripped her in a vice hold. So long as he kept holding her like that, she’d wait all he wanted. She turned her face up and kissed him on the crook of his neck. The salt of his skin coated her tongue and his breath hitched as she gently nipped him. He laid her down. His white shirt was now under her, making a bed in the middle of the secluded field.

A smile touched her deep inside at the consideration. Like she would have even been aware of the ground. Not with his body over hers, stealing the attention of all her senses with his hard muscles pressing against her, the spicy scent of his skin filling her chest, and his cinnamon taste coating her tongue.

He pushed up on an elbow for a long moment and stared down at her. Using only the tip of a single finger, he drew a lazy, maddening teasing line from her lips, down her neck, and between her breasts. Chills blanketed her skin and she shuddered with each passing, delicate stroke.

“You’re a beautiful woman.” He traced the cups of her bra, sending her into a spinning, tumbling feeling of sensation. “Soft. Curvy in all the right places. You taste like peaches and look like a milkmaid, but arch against me.”

Heat filled her cheeks. Those were good things, right? She couldn’t be sure about the milkmaid comment. What was sexy about a milkmaid?

As he leaned over her, kissed the curve of her breast while removing her bra, she would have put on a dairy dress, a goofy hat and sat on a stool with a bucket, no questions asked. His thumb rolled over her nipple and, oh, God, just like that. She arched off the ground against his body, wanting more.

Not knowing what to do, she combed her fingers through his short brown hair as he took her in his mouth. Teeth nipped her and she tugged at his soft strands, wanting to voice something,
anything
to get him to do that again, but words were gone. She existed only in a state of tingling need, craving his touch. He sucked her deep in his mouth and she cried out. Her body tightened.

Yes. A little bit more of that. A little extra stroking and she would be gone. She may not have done the
whole
act before, but she had done this. Except this time, with Drew, it was different. It was better and she wasn’t stopping for anything. Certainly not with his lips on her like that.

She bent her knees up, wanting his hips closer against hers. Wanting him to fill her like no other man ever had before. She’d never been this needy or aching. Quick fingers or a smooth tongue would not be enough.

Drew answered her silent plea and tugged the string of her thong down her thighs. She reached between them, fumbling around his hands and arms and opened the snap of his jeans. His hard length brushed the back of her hand as she lowered the zipper. Taking her time and being careful, she freed him from his briefs and wrapped her hands around his length.
Yowsers
, he was the biggest man she could remember holding.

Maybe this wasn’t the night for her to go all way. He’d surely split her in half with that thing. He pulled away from her, his cock freed from her hands as he leaned far enough down to flick her panties from her feet.

His heat gone, his warmth taken away, she reached out. Tugging him back, wanting him back. And then his hands were on her body again. Fingers grazed along her inner thighs. His thumb stroked up the center of her. Lips feathered over her. Her toes curled, knees bent, and wiped away her momentary fear. She wanted this, no matter his size. Had wanted it for a long time and had finally gotten up the nerve to take it. Not a chance was she backing out now.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and reached down his back as far as she could. Her fingertips just barely inched inside the loosened waistband of his jeans. Just enough to touch the top of his ass. She curled her fingers and drew her nails up him until making a fist, pulling him up a little more, wanting him over her.

He shuddered, a breath shook out of him against her ear.

“I want you, Drew.” And she didn’t have to ask twice.

He shucked his jeans and pulled out his wallet. Protection, thank God, because she didn’t have any. He covered himself and was back between her thighs. Hands planted on the ground on either side of her as he fitted the tip of himself inside.

This was it. Her thighs opened. His length stretched her and filled her. He pressed forward and pulled back, edging in a bit more each time. She angled her hips up wanting more, wanting him to touch her deep, to fill her completely, to heat her from the inside out.

He surged forward.

A yelp started out but she slammed her mouth closed to hold it in. Eyes squeezed shut. Air trapped in her throat behind a cry.

He held still for a blessed few moments while she stretched and his length found room. His fingers combed through her hair in such a sweet caress, she relaxed and he fit more comfortably. “You’re so damn tight.”

He gave a gentle, easy rock. Soothing strokes ignited a needing hunger. The pinch of initial pain was gone, leaving only a craving for more. She angled her hips up, wanting him to stroke against one spot he was just barely grazing.

The more he thrust, the easier he slid against her. A heavy ache came over her quickly. She squeezed her thighs against his hips. Her heartbeat pounded faster than she could keep her breath. Release rushed over, scattering her in a hundred different directions. She cried out and held tight to him as he continued to thrust through it, not giving her time to relax or catch her breath, but only wound her up tight and sent her spiraling out of control again. All she could do was gasp for air and pray he wouldn’t let her go.