The Maverick of Copper Creek (19 page)

A
s Ash climbed the steps, he could see Brenna through the window. She was standing in the kitchen, hands gripped tightly at her waist, watching the door. The look of fear on her face twisted a knife in his heart.

The minute he stepped inside, she hurried toward him with a smile. That only made the pain worse. He knew at once she was putting on an act to hide her true feelings.

Her voice was a little too cheerful. “You decided not to sleep in the barn?”

“Too far from the house. I need to be here.”

“There are two unused bedrooms upstairs. The one in the front has a softer bed. The one in back is warmer.”

He shook his head. “I won't need either. I'll be sleeping on the sofa in the living room.”

“But…”

He held up his rifle. His eyes had a steely look about them. “This will be beside me. Just in case.”

She swallowed. “Okay. Are you hungry?”

“After that meal we had?” He touched a hand to his stomach. “I wouldn't need to eat again for a week, and I'd be fine.”

“If you'd like more coffee…”

“Nothing…” He touched a finger to her lips to silence her, and was forced to absorb the quick thrill that shot through his system.

At the same moment he looked down, she looked up at him. Their lips were a whisper apart, sending a cascade of tremors down his spine.

Still holding his rifle, his other hand closed around her shoulder and he drew her up hard against him, until he could feel every part of her inside himself. Her breasts, flattened against his chest. Her thighs brushing his. Her quick intake of breath, and then the way she released it slowly, feathering his cheek.

The image of their kiss flashed through his mind. Just as quickly he struggled to banish any thought of it.

Very deliberately he lowered his hand to his side and took a step back. “You've had a long, exhausting day, Brenna. You need to go up to bed.”

“I don't like thinking about you all alone down here. There's an overstuffed chair in a corner of the parlor. I could—”

“No. You can't do another thing.” He shook his head firmly. “Go on. Get out of here. Before I do something we'll both regret.”

Her eyes widened as his meaning dawned. She turned away, picked up Sammy, and exited the room.

He stood perfectly still, watching as she climbed the stairs. Then he turned out the kitchen light and made his way toward the parlor in the back of the house.

Just knowing he was alone with her changed everything. There was a tension in him that had nothing to do with the danger they were facing. The air around him was charged with it.

He could hear the floorboards creak as she moved around her bedroom, just above him. He closed his eyes, imagining her taking off her boots, her jeans, her shirt. His hand clenched at his side. He wanted, more than anything, to be there with her, undressing her.

He moved woodenly around the room, trying vainly to blot out the thought of her so close. Just a few steps away, and he could have everything he'd ever wanted.

Even the debris still littering the floor and the boarded-up window couldn't serve as distractions. Despite the danger that threatened, despite the threats that had already been made, all he could think about was making love with Brenna.

She was finally alone here with him. After so many years apart. The thought taunted and tempted him.

Hoping to clear his mind, he set aside the rifle and pulled off his shirt, tossing it over the back of a chair. Sitting on the arm of the sofa, he pried off his boots and kicked them angrily against the wall before unsnapping his jeans, all the while calling himself every kind of fool. If he didn't have this damnable code of honor, he could have everything he'd ever wanted. After that kiss they'd shared, he knew it wouldn't take much to persuade her. But though he wanted her, he knew she needed time to sort out all her feelings. And right now, with all that was going on in her life, the last thing she needed was any kind of complication.

He heard a sound, and caught sight of a shadow in the doorway. In one smooth motion he snatched up his rifle and took aim, only to find Brenna standing in the doorway holding an armload of bed linens.

She backed up a step. “Sorry. I thought you'd need a pillow and…”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Exhaling a long, slow breath he set aside the rifle before taking the items from her arms and tossing them on the sofa.

He turned back to her. Now that her arms were free he realized she was wearing nothing more than a skimpy pair of boxer shorts and a skintight camisole that revealed more than it covered.

In the moonlight her eyes seemed too wide. Too unblinking. Fear? Nerves? Was it possible that she was as achingly aware of him as he was of her? Or was he just so hungry for her that his mind was playing tricks on him?

“I ought to…”

“I figured I'd…”

Each stopped in midsentence and stared at the other.

He held out his hand, palm up. “You first.”

“Well, I see”—she started to turn away—“you were undressing. You need your sleep…I'd better…”

“Brenna.” He lay a hand on her arm, then just as quickly withdrew it. “We both know this isn't going to work.”

“I don't…” She shook her head. “Are you saying you're not staying?”

“Wild horses couldn't drag me away.” His voice lowered. “What isn't going to work is me sleeping down here and having you in my space, unless you don't want me sleeping…alone.”

The silence stretched between them for so long, he could feel each anxious stirring of his uneven heartbeat. He knew he'd overstepped his reach. Hadn't she made it perfectly plain that she needed time? After all, she'd just given back an engagement ring. A woman didn't go from loving one man to sleeping with another.

“Sorry…” He turned away. “My mouth got ahead of my brain. Go upstairs now, Brenna. And don't come back down here again tonight. You don't want to be around me when I'm in this mood.”

His words were met with stunned silence.

He fisted his hands at his sides, mentally cursing himself.

With no warning he absorbed a shock to his system at the press of a hand on his bare back.

Her voice was hushed. “You're right, Ash. This really won't work.”

He stood perfectly still, afraid if he'd move, if he'd even breathe, he'd frighten her away. He would let her say what she'd come here to say, and then he'd let her walk away with her dignity intact.

“I can't allow you to sleep down here…” he heard her take a long, deep breath “…alone.”

He froze. He hadn't really heard that. He'd only imagined it because he wanted it so desperately.

“Say something, Ash.”

When he held his silence he felt her shift, until her arms slid around his waist. She pressed her face to the naked flesh of his back and whispered against his skin, “Please don't send me away. I couldn't bear it.”

A ripple of blazing heat snaked along his spine.

He turned and grasped her by the upper arms, holding her a little away. ”Do you know what you're saying?”

She lifted her head, her chin jutted in that way he'd come to recognize, whenever she was ready to dig in her heels. “I've been trying for so long to deny the truth.”

“The truth?” His eyes fastened on her, so hot, so furious, she actually flinched.

“The truth I didn't want to face. I wanted to hate you for leaving me without a word all those years ago. I tried. I really tried. But I couldn't then. I still can't. It's you, Ash.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “It's always been you.”

He went absolutely still for the space of a heartbeat, digesting what she'd said. And then there were no words as he dragged her into his arms and kissed her until they were both gasping for air.

“Dear God, Brenna.” He lingered over her lips. He'd never known a mouth so perfectly formed. A mouth so clever, it was driving him mad. It was a mouth made for kissing. And he did, over and over again. He wasn't so much kissing as devouring.

He'd have gladly gone on feasting on that generous mouth forever, except for the wild rush of need that had him pressing her firmly against the wall while his hands fisted in her hair. He drew her head back and resumed kissing her, pressing moist, hot kisses down her throat to the sensitive hollow between her neck and shoulder.

“Ash.”

Just as he worried that he was being too rough, and started to pull back, she whispered his name again.

“Ash. Ash.”

Then she wrapped herself around him and began to drive him slowly mad, running hot, wet kisses over his face, while her clever hands moved over him as though she couldn't get enough of him.

Those strong fingers, which could steer a tractor or mold a lump of clay into a thing of beauty, had him sweating. And when she sighed and laid both palms flat against his hair-roughened chest, he had to take a moment to breathe. But when her greedy mouth began nibbling a trail of fire across his chest, he wondered that his heart didn't explode.

“Wait.” He nearly shredded her camisole in his haste to strip it aside. For a moment his heart forgot to beat as he studied the sight of her, so perfect.

“Brenna.” He bent to her, nibbling one breast, then the other, until he heard her whimper.

“Sorry. I'm trying to go slow.” He pressed his forehead to hers, struggling vainly to calm the passion raging inside him. “I'm so damned hungry for you, but I don't want to hurt you.”

His quiet whisper had her going still.

And then she smiled. A woman's knowing smile. “You won't hurt me, Ash.”

At her words, spoken so simply, he framed her face with his big hands and stared into those incredible blue eyes. “I just want you to be sure.”

“I'm not sure of anything but this. I want you, Ash. Only you. Only this. Right now.”

A smile curved his lips. Warmed his voice. “And I want you. It's always been you, Sunshine.”

She stared into his eyes before wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love it when you call me Sun—”

He stole her words with a kiss that spoke of all the long, lonely days and nights they'd been apart. A kiss so desperate, he could feel himself going up in flames. Burning to ash. And still he kissed her, devoured her, and wanted more. He wanted all she had to give.

His hands moved over her at will now, touching her in all the ways he'd always wanted to, all the ways he'd dreamed of on those long, lonely nights, driving her and himself half mad with need.

She slid his unsnapped jeans over his hips and closed her hand around him, touching him as he was touching her.

He moaned with pure pleasure and pressed her against the wall, while his big, work-worn hands moved over her, making her writhe with need.

Against his mouth she whispered, “The sofa…”

“Too far.” He bent his head and began nibbling, suckling until the air between them grew so hot, it filled their lungs and blurred their vision while it pearled their flesh with a sheen of moisture.

In one smooth motion he tore away her boxer shorts and found her hot and wet.

“Wait…” It was all she could manage as he stole her words with a savage kiss and took her on a wild ride to a peak of pleasure that left her dazed.

He loved watching her. He loved the way those trusting eyes widened, before they glazed over as she lost herself in the pure pleasure he offered. When she reached the very edge, her hands gripped him fiercely before going limp.

He gave her no time to recover as he began leading her to the next peak, then the next.

With a frantic burst of energy she ran her hands across his chest, down the flat planes of his stomach, then lower, and was rewarded by his low, guttural moan as she found him and began to pleasure him.

“Now. I can't wait.” He'd wanted to move slowly. To touch and taste and savor until he'd had his fill. But now he could feel the need taking over, clawing to be free. It was a tidal wave sweeping over him, bearing down on him, and he was helpless to stop it.

Frantic for release, he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around him. The need, the momentum, had him driving himself inside her with all the force of a raging storm.

On a low moan of pleasure she closed around him, taking him deep.

And then they were moving together. Climbing together.

Outside the boarded-up window, the wind sighed. Night birds called. Cattle lowed.

The two people locked in each other's arms heard nothing except their two hearts beating wildly, and their breathing. Fast. Labored. And their sighs. Low. Frantic.

The world could have come to an end, and neither of them would have noticed. Their world had narrowed to this room, this moment, this intense, driving pleasure.

“Ash.”

His name on her lips was the sweetest sound. It was the only thing he heard as he took her with him to the very edge of a high, steep cliff. For a moment they hung suspended. Then, on a shattering climax, they soared through space.

For the longest time they remained locked in a fierce embrace, their bodies fused, their hearts beating wildly.

Brenna was grateful for the cool wall at her back, and those strong arms holding her up. Without Ash's support, she would surely fall, fluid and boneless, to the floor.

“You okay?” He nuzzled her neck.

“Umm.”

“Is that a yes?”

She lifted a hand to his cheek and smiled.

“Okay. I'll take that for a yes.” Still high on adrenaline, he lifted her in his arms and carried her across the room before depositing her on the sofa.

As he settled in beside her, she snuggled close enough to feel his heartbeat inside her own chest. “Oh, this is nice.”

He shot her an incredulous look. “Nice?”

“You don't think it's nice?”