Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (43 page)

She was used to feeling big. Awkward. Bulky. Clint made her feel dainty, feminine, and beautiful. Irresistibly beautiful.

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

That pulled him up short. He drew back, the tip of his tongue lingering against her moist flesh as he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“For what?”

Heat washed over her cheeks. Darn it, she was blushing again. But how could she not when the handsomest man alive knelt between her thighs, his mouth an inch from her throbbing pussy, anticipation lightening his expression and tilting the corners of his beautiful mouth?

“For…” Oh God, what had she been going to say? For liking her? That was too pathetic and not at all who she wanted to be. And it wasn’t even what she wanted to say. She gathered her courage and the truth he deserved.

“For making this beautiful.”

Approval joined the other emotions on his face. “Sunshine, if anyone is going to be thanking anyone, it’s me.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “You make me feel.”

She noted that he didn’t add anything to the end of that. Not good, not hot. Just feel. She touched his hair where it pooled on the step between her hands. It was cool and silky. Soothing.

“I’m glad.”

“Good,” he murmured as he leaned in.

She felt as though he touched her with more than his tongue. That in this moment, she had more of him than she’d ever had before. She didn’t know what it was, but she wanted it. She wanted this openness with her husband, even if she didn’t know what to do with it.

And then she stopped thinking as he took her into his mouth, holding her in the position he wanted with his hands, nibbling and sucking at her clit before lapping at the juices that welled, humming against her sensitive bud as he took his pleasure, causing more cream to flow, driving her higher—away from conscious thought, straight into pure sensation.

She rocked on his mouth, the little balls going with her, adding their own brand of torment to the moment. With every stroke of his tongue, she climbed higher. With every nibble of his lips, the invisible wires inside coiled tighter and tighter, until she couldn’t hold back her scream.

“Shhh, baby,” he murmured. “I’ll make it better in a minute.”

She didn’t want to wait a minute. She wanted it now. As he attempted to slide out from between her thighs, she clamped down. Her strength was no match for his. He laughed, nipped her inner thigh and slid free, shifting her weight back to her responsibility as he rose behind her.

His fingers slipped into her wet slit, moving gently against her flesh, and then he pulled out. The balls shifted, moved, stretched her outward before popping free. He dropped them, catching her as her knees buckled. The balls rolled down the stairs with loud thumps as she futilely tried to suppress a scream. Her body ached for him.

“I’m right here, Jenna.”

His chest came down over her back, his hands settled beside hers. Between her thighs she could see his cock, hard and engorged, stretching almost to the stair with the weight of the wide plum-shaped head. As she watched, a pearl of fluid beaded the tip, dangled precariously a second before falling to the stair tread.

“Oh God.”

His chin came to rest on her shoulder. His hair swung into view, bringing with it the scent of pine and smoke and outdoors.

“Bring me home, Jenna.”

She reached between them. His cock was hot to the touch. Rock-hard.

She just needed to angle him up and they’d both have what they wanted. She hesitated.

“What if someone comes in?”

“Then you’ll stand up.”

He was right, all she had to do was stand up and her skirts would fall into place and no one except she would know about the fire raging inside. She looked between their legs. Unless they recognized those little balls down there at the foot of the stairs.

Another bead of moisture formed on the tip of his cock, growing bigger, stretching into a teardrop. She caught it with her thumb, smoothing it over the slit, tracing it back and forth, back and forth. She didn’t want to waste any of this.

“Jenna, if you don’t want me to come in your hand, you’ll stop doing that.”

On the next pass of her thumb, his hips bucked against her. His arms trembled against her shoulders. His lips brushed her ear as she debated what she wanted to do with all that power that was in her control.

“Make a decision, Jenna.”

In her. She wanted him in her. And to hell with who might see. She angled his cock up as he pulled back until he was nudging her pussy. With a pulse of his hips, he seated the head in the well of her vagina.

She braced herself for his thrust. It didn’t come. Instead, he spread her slowly, giving her gentleness instead of possession, trapping her between seduction and expectation, making her burn and ache as her muscles parted to accept his breadth.

“Nice and easy, baby,” he whispered against her ear, his breath wafting across her cheek. “Just relax and take me in.” His hips pulsed against hers. “A little at a time. Just you and me and nothing else.”

Yes. Just them. Here. Together. She pushed back, taking him deeper, the pleasure spiking higher as his cock pierced the tight confines of her pussy.

“Oh God!”

He froze, his hands on her hips, keeping her still. “Damn it, Jenna, did I hurt you?”

“No.” Nothing he did could ever hurt her. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t even seem to breathe as he asked, “Do you want more?”

She wanted everything he had to give her.

“Yes.”

“Baby, how did I get so lucky as to marry you?”

“You asked?”

He laughed—a harsh tortured sound. “Now you chose to crack a joke?”

“I’m sorry.”

He kissed her cheek. “Don’t be sorry,” he rasped as he wedged his cock deeper, “Just promise to do it again later when I can appreciate it.”

Reason fled as he seated himself to the hilt and gave her everything he had.

Chapter Seventeen

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

Jenna shook her head as Clint helped her down from the buckboard, pulling her cloak around her and Brianna as the wind blew down the busy street.

“I’ll be fine.” In truth she was dreading the shopping trip. It was a safe bet that her marriage to Clint McKinnely was going to be the talk of the town. People would no doubt be curious. She’d just have to get through it.

Clint straightened her collar. She glanced up. He didn’t bother to try to hide the concern in his eyes. She wasn’t very good at keeping things from him.

“Sure?”

She ducked her head so he wouldn’t see the nervousness she was sure was apparent in her eyes. Having to mingle in town was always dicey. In her restaurant she had control, but going from store to store meant exposure and risk.

“You have your meeting.” She hefted Bri’s weight to her hip.

His forefinger bumped up her chin. “I can reschedule.”

“I’m just going to get some things.”

“I have an account at the store. Get whatever you want.”

“You told me that twice already.”

His finger stroked her cheek as the wind blew his hair around his shoulders.

“I’ll probably keep saying it until I believe you mean to spend it.”

“We don’t need much.”

“Sunshine, I’ve got more money than you could spend on your most frivolous day. It’s all just been sitting there, waiting for my wife to come along.”

She rested her fingers on his arm, loving the way his muscles flexed under her touch.

“I’ll take good care of it.”

His breath hissed out from between his teeth.

“I don’t want you to take care of it. I want you to run amok with it.”

He tipped her chin up again with his thumb. The brim of his hat blocked the sun as his head tilted.

“If I don’t come back to find this wagon loaded to the sides with every notion and knickknack that you need or fancy, I’m going to be pissed.”

He punctuated the statement with a hard kiss. It was over before it began. She licked her lips, catching a lingering flicker of his taste. “I’ll do my best.”

He smoothed his thumb over her lips, the worry still lingering in his dark eyes.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me what has your tail in a twist about a day of shopping?”

She was one hundred percent sure. If she had her way she’d go to her grave with the information.

“Yes.”

He held her chin and her gaze. She tried not to flinch. She made it for as long as she could hold her breath before she had to lower hers. Before Clint, looking a man in the eye had always meant a severe beating. She felt his lips brush the top of her head.

“You’re doing better, Sunshine.”

“Thank you.”

“If you need me I’ll be at the bank or the saloon.”

“The saloon?”

It came out sharper than she intended. The bitter taste of jealousy filled her mouth. She clenched her fingers on her cloak. It wasn’t her place to question Clint’s movements.

“Jasper likes to talk business over a drink.”

“You don’t drink.”

“Sure I do.”

“Oh.”

A drink in his office wouldn’t be the same as in the saloon where there were loose women available to pour.

“And Jenna?”

The thumb under her chin insisted she raise her face. She didn’t want to. She knew he’d be able to see the truth. She didn’t want another woman anywhere near him.

“Look at me, Jenna.”

She did, blinking when wind whipped his hair across her face in a silken reprimand

“You don’t have to worry about me with other women.”

“I wouldn’t presume—”

His thumb stroked over her lower lip, pulling it away from her teeth as he drawled, “I want you to presume, baby. I want you to put your brand all over me.”

She looked at him.
There was no mockery in his gaze, no glimmer of humor. He was dead serious.
She knew he meant that, but he didn’t know everything about her, what she’d done. It was easy to make bold statements when a person didn’t know everything.

“I’ve never heard of you being drunk.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t drink.”

“Are you a mean drunk?”

“No. I never do it until I’m shit-faced, and I’d never hurt me or mine when I drink.”

She changed the subject.

“You’re going to be late for your meeting.”

His hand dropped from her face. “And you have a ton of shopping to do.”