Unspoken (17 page)
Authors: Lisa Jackson
Tags: #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense Fiction, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Texas
He kissed and sucked. She grabbed his head, drawing him closer, feeling pleasure and pain as his teeth gently scraped her skin and her breast swelled, aching for more of his touch.
“This is crazy,” he growled, but didn’t stop. She tossed back her head as together, clinging to each other, they slid to the ground. As her back pressed against the earth, he lifted his head and kissed her hard on the lips. He pushed her blouse over her shoulders and reached around her, unhooked her bra and bared her breasts to the night. His mouth and hands were everywhere, touching, kissing, feeling and causing her to shiver with need.
Her heart pounded in her ears. Her fingers dug into his back until he paused long enough to yank his T-shirt over his head and toss it aside. Corded muscles flexed as he pulled her up to meet him. Hard, bare skin brushed hers. Boldly, she touched the flat nipples hidden within a sworling matt of springy chest hair. His nipples tightened beneath her fingertips. Quick as a rattler striking, he grabbed her wrist. “Careful—”
“Of what?”
“Me.”
“Should I be scared?” she teased.
“Oh, yeah.”
In response she lowered her hand, her fingers skimming his skin to rest at the waistband of his jeans. He sucked in his breath and she felt the tip of his hardness.
“Sweet Jesus,” he whispered as she tugged at his button fly and his worn Levis parted in a rapid series of pops. She began to shove the jeans over his hips when he grabbed her wrists with steely fingers. “There comes a time, Shelby, when no man, and I mean
no man,
can stop.”
no man,
can stop.”
Swallowing hard, she gazed into smoldering gray eyes and slowly reached forward. He sucked in his breath as her fingers surrounded the thickness of his cock and he closed his eyes when she moved her hand “Shelby—don’t,” he warned “I don’t know—oh. God.”
He reacted quickly, kicking off his boots and jeans and reaching for the zipper of her cutoffs. It slid down in a soft hiss that seemed to echo through the hills. Effortlessly, he slid the scrap of denim and her panties down her legs, his fingers, pushing off her boots, and before she could take a second breath, she was lying naked with him, feeling the cool breath of wind bring goose bumps to her skin, hearing the rippling sound of the creek rushing past and the crack of distant thunder.
Naked flesh pressed hard against naked flesh. Lips found lips. Shelby kissed and was kissed and her fingers dug into the hard muscles of Nevada’s back.
There’s no going back,
her mind warned, but she didn’t pay any attention; didn’t care.
There’s no going back,
her mind warned, but she didn’t pay any attention; didn’t care.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said staring down at her as he gently nudged her knees aside. “So damned beautiful.”
Need and white-hot desire throbbed through her veins. The smell of sex was in the air.
“I love you, Nevada,” she whispered fervently.
He closed his eyes. Hesitated.
He couldn’t stop. Not now. She pulled him closer and whispered hoarsely into his ear. “I want you. Nevada, please ... love ... me....”
His arms surrounded her and he shifted, thrusting deep inside her, breaking the fragile barrier of her virginity and holding her close as she cried out.
Nothing would ever be the same.
Chapter Eight
“I carved your initials in the hitching post outside the drugstore,” she whispered, cradled in Nevada’s arms, looking upward through the branches of the trees to the rapidly disappearing stars. Clouds had rolled in. the thunder that had sounded so far away was closer and she’d seen forks of lightning sizzling bright in the hills.
“You didn’t.”
“Mmm.” Snuggling against him, she sighed softly and listened to the sound of his breathing as afterglow slowly faded. So this was what it was like to make love to a man, to feel him inside you, to
want
his body joined with yours.
want
his body joined with yours.
Making love with him had been frightening and exhilarating. Painful at first and then incredible.
“The hitching post in the middle of town?”
“Yep. On the underside.”
“What possessed you to do that?”
She shrugged, feeling suddenly young and foolish. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I’d hate to see what you consider a bad one.”
She chuckled and knew she was falling hopelessly and gloriously in love.
He kissed the top of her head. “You know, I think it might be considered a crime. Disfigurement of a public landmark, vandalism or—”
She rolled over and shut him up with a kiss. Though she was sore between her legs from their lovemaking, she still wanted to be close to him, to feel him against her. His arms wrapped around her, and he shook his head as she lay on top of him.
“You are somethin’.” He pressed his lips to the tops of her breasts.
“What?”
“Don’t know. Can’t figure it out.”
“Try.”
“Believe me, I have,” he said and then leaned up to kiss her mouth again. Harder this time. Insistent. She opened her mouth and sighed. His hands rubbed her back, settling near her buttocks—work-roughened palms molded to her soft skin. His fingers dug deep. Wind, smelling of rain, rushed across her bare skin, catching in her hair. Somewhere nearby an owl hooted.
Shelby’s flesh tingled. He kissed each breast, his mouth pulling on her nipples.
Liquid fire ran through her blood as he suckled, harder and harder. She closed her eyes. Beneath her his manhood stiffened.
“Again?” she whispered incredulously, and before she could ask anything more he shifted slightly, adjusting himself to fill her again. She gasped as he drove upward, arching his back, his buttocks pinching. Strong hands held her fast and she began to sway, catching his slow-moving rhythm, losing herself in the magic of the night.
Her mind spun with erotic images. Desire caused her to melt inside. He was everything at this moment, her beginning and end. She closed her eyes, lost in desire that pulsed deep inside, the ache that he created and relieved. “Nevada,” she cried hoarsely, “oh, God ... Nevada ...” He moved more quickly now, and she was enveloped by his spirit, caught in the wonder of the night. Her breath came in short bursts, perspiration beaded on her skin, her heart beat frantically and her mind spun out of control.
“I love you.”
Had she said it? Or he?
Raindrops began to fall from the sky.
“Nevada, oh, God ...” Her fingers delved deep into his shoulder muscles.
He groaned; his hands held her fast and he quickened his pace again, driving upward ever faster. “That’s it, that’s it, oh, Shelby ...”
A spasm of pure ecstasy shot through her. She jolted. Cried out. With a primeval groan, he let go. Spilled himself in her. Fire and ice, heat deep inside, her skin instantly chilled with the first drops of rain.
She shuddered and fell against him, exhausted.
His heartbeat thundered against her ear. He breathed as if he couldn’t draw another breath.
The sky opened.
Cold beads splashed against her bare back.
Nevada stirred, his hands twisting in the wet strands of her hair. “You’re going to drown,” he teased, still gasping for breath.
“I don’t care.”
“Well, you will.”
“Never.” She lay on top of him and laughed as rain dripped down her nose.
Strong arms surrounded her and he kissed her temple. “Oh, yeah, Princess, believe me, you will. Big time.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Well enough,” he said, giving her a gentle slap on her behind. “I think we should grab our clothes and make a run for my truck. I parked it on the other side of the fence, half a mile away.”
“Half a mile?”
“Didn’t want anyone to catch us.”
She laughed at his caution.
“Come on. I’ll drive you wherever it is you want to go.”
It sounded like heaven, but Shelby couldn’t risk it. She was already pushing it; even now her father might have called Lily’s place and realized his only daughter had lied to him. For all she knew, he could have phoned the police or, worse yet, his own private search party of ranch hands.
Squinting against the shower, she cast a wary glance up at the dark sky and shivered. Oh, to leave with him now and be forever with Nevada Smith. “I’ve got to get Delilah back to the ranch and cooled down,” she said. “That might take some doing.”
The rain increased, the shower intensifying to a downpour. “I’d feel better if you’d come with me,” he said. One persuasive hand trailed down her wet thigh.
“I can’t. Really.” Forcing herself, she rolled off him, grabbed her damp panties and cutoffs and pulled both on. She felt different now, a woman at last as she searched the muddy grass for her boots.
“Shelby—”
“Really. I’ve got to go back to the ranch.”
He didn’t respond, just helped her find her ancient cowboy boots. As she tugged them over her feet, he tossed her blouse and bra to her.
“I don’t like this.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, though she was already soaked to the skin. He grabbed his jeans and stood. One hand surrounded the crook of her elbow. “I’d better come with you.”
“Don’t be silly,” she argued but warmed at the thought that he wanted to be with her, to see her safely home—a gentleman’s heart in a cowboy’s skin. “I got here by myself, I can get home all right.”
He wasn’t convinced. “It would be better—”
“—if no one knew we were together,” she finished for him, ignoring his worried tone. She hooked her bra, then, shivering, stuffed her arms through the short sleeves of her cotton blouse. “Okay?”
He hesitated, swore under his breath, then grabbed her and his lips covered hers in one last, desperate kiss. Rain peppered the ground, and a breeze chilled her bare skin. “Call me when you get home or wherever it is you’re staying,” he ordered, standing naked in the night, water dripping from his bare skin. “I want to know that you’re okay.”
“I will,” she promised, touched that he cared.
He yanked on his jeans.
Fumbling with the buttons of her blouse, she blinked hard and told herself it was just the rain, she couldn’t be crying. Drops of rainwater ran down her nose and chin. Her fingers seemed suddenly thick and useless.
“Let me.” Nevada, his fly not yet buttoned, his bare feet becoming muddy, brushed her hands away and carefully slipped each tiny pearl button through its hole. “There you go.”
“ Thanks. ”
“My pleasure.” His smile was a crooked slash of white in the dark night “You be careful, Shelby,” he said roughly, then took her face between his palms and kissed her hard.
When he lifted his head, she nodded mutely, her heart nearly breaking at his tenderness.
He helped her onto Delilah’s back and stood, feet planted apart, arms folded over his naked chest as she pulled on the sodden reins and clucked softly to the horse. Delilah needed no urging. Nose turned to the wind, she took off, scrambling up the hillside, eager to return to the stables.
Casting a final glance over her shoulder, Shelby caught one last glimpse of Nevada’s dark form before he disappeared behind the veil of rain and his image was lost to her.
Now it was time to go home.
“Come on.” She slapped the mare’s shoulders as they reached the ridge.
The storm burst over her. Wind and water blew across the bent grass. Lightning flashed in eerie, jagged fingers. Thunder cracked and rolled, echoing through the hills.
Squinting hard, Shelby leaned forward and gave Delilah a kick. The mare bolted, long legs lengthening, hooves pounding the muddy earth. A burning sensation at the apex of Shelby’s legs reminded her of her recent lovemaking with Nevada and she smiled despite the lash of wind and rain. So she was cold to the bone, so she might be found out and catch hell from her father, so the wet horsehair beneath her bare legs rubbed her skin raw, it had all been worth it. She was a full-fledged woman now, thanks to Nevada Smith.
Across the fields Delilah galloped, faster and faster. Shelby blinked and wiped her eyes with one hand while the other held fast to the leather straps and a fistful of the Appaloosa’s mane. Without the moon, the night was dark, the vast stretches of grassland seemingly barren and bleak. Shelby rode by instinct, trusting her mount’s intuition and her own sense of direction as the acres sped past
How late was it? Had her father called? What would she face when she got back to the ranch? What if someone—like Ross McCaUum—had discovered her car? Worries she had pushed aside now towered large in her mind. What would she say? Would the Judge believe her if she lied? The truth would kill him.
Shivering, teeth chattering, she felt her blouse flatten against her skin and her hair drip as it tangled in the wind that now seemed bitter and harsh. “Faster, Delilah,” she commanded, “Run.” Hooves flew and mud splattered upward.
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