Unspoken (27 page)

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Authors: Lisa Jackson

Tags: #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense Fiction, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Texas

BOOK: Unspoken
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Shelby had planned to drive home, take a late-night swim and let the cool water soak away the aches in her muscles and the headache pounding through her brain, but before she reached the city limits, she eased off the accelerator and took a road that veered west, toward Nevada’s ranch. Maybe he’d learned something in the last couple of days.
Or is it because you just want to see him again?
Her fingers tightened over the steering wheel at the thought, and she checked the rearview mirror, as she had every ten or twenty miles since leaving San Antonio. She’d been jittery and nervous, half expecting that she might be followed, though that was crazy. Just because someone had called her hotel room right before she’d left and not spoken was no reason to freak out. It was just a coincidence, nothing more. No one was following her.
As she drove past prickly pear and live oaks, she rationalized that she had to face Nevada again, and soon. They were in this thing together—parents of their missing daughter.
But there’s more to it than that,
Shelby, and
you know
it.
She refused to listen to that nagging part of her mind and pushed the speed limit until she reached the turnoff to Nevada’s ranch. Dry weeds brushed the undercarriage of the rental car. Bugs splattered against the windshield. Her heart was pounding with a mixture of dread and anticipation, and for a second she wished she hadn’t made this little detour. Her hands felt suddenly damp with nervous sweat. She checked her reflection in the rearview mirror, made sure that her lipstick hadn’t faded.
“Ridiculous,” she chided herself as the Cadillac bounced down twin ruts grooved deep into the hard pan. She wasn’t a high school girl in the throes of her first crush. This was far different. She stared through the windshield. In the moonlight she saw the silhouettes of longhorns in the nearby fields and ahead, lamplight glowing from the windows and open door of Nevada’s house.
Her mouth was cotton dry. She parked and was out of the car before the dust had settled. Crockett began to bark, and as she climbed the single step to Nevada’s porch, he appeared in the doorway, standing in stark relief, his shoulders nearly touching either side of the door jamb.
Why was it that she always noticed how all-male he was, how raw and rugged and untamed? Like these dry, wind-blown hills, he was earthy and wild and Texan.
And the kind of man you should avoid like a coiled rattler.
“Well, Shelby,” he drawled, a slow-spreading grin growing from one side of his jaw to the other. “This is a surprise.” His teeth were a white slash against his night-darkened skin. Flinty eyes assessed her. “Miss me?”
“So bad I couldn’t sleep at night,” she mocked.
“Me, neither.” Amusement danced through his eyes, and some of her apprehension dissipated. One dark eyebrow lifted appraisingly. Dimples cut into his dark jaw. “I just never thought you’d admit it.”
He was baiting her, and though she warned herself not to rise to it, to avoid the lure she couldn’t help saying, “Get over yourself, Nevada. I have.”
“Like hell,” he muttered. As she tried to pass, he struck swiftly, strong arms surrounding her. Before she could think twice, she was dragged against the hard, flat wall of his chest. He stared down his broken-more-than-once nose with eyes that burned silver-gray in the moonlight. “You, lady, are the worst liar I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something, cuz I’ve known some pretty damned good ones.”
“I’ll bet.” She angled her chin up, refusing to back down, but couldn’t ignore the heat he generated, the splay of strong, calloused fingers against the small of her back. “So what’re you gonna do about it, Smith?” she taunted.
That irreverent slash of white was back. “You want to find out?”
No!
“Maybe.” Dear Lord, why was she toying with him? She could barely breathe being this close to him, had trouble concentrating on anything but the thin twist of his lips.
One thick eyebrow arched. “Watch.”
With excruciating deliberation, he trailed a work-roughened finger down the slope of her neck.
Oh, God, she was melting inside. Heat seeped into her bloodstream, yet she shivered and her heart began knocking in frantic anticipation.
His hand settled over her shoulder, fingers on her back, thumb placed at the hollow of her throat. If he wanted to, he could crush her windpipe and snap her neck. But she trusted him with her life and, stupidly, with her heart.
He pressed warm lips to the crook of her neck and she moaned.
Stop this, Shelby. He’s seducing you and you’re falling for it! Stop it now, while you still can.
Lifting his head, he stared at her. His thumb slowly traced the ring of bones at the base of her throat, rotating in sensuous circles.
I want you.
Had he said it?
Had she?
Embers of a long-forbidden fire smoldered. She knew it was madness, being alone with him, touching him. letting the smell of him invade her senses, and yet she couldn’t stop, wouldn’t think beyond this moment.
Backing her against the wall, he lowered his head. Though she knew kissing him was about the craziest thing she could do, she couldn’t resist. His lips touched hers and she quivered. His bare arms, corded and strong, held her fast and her knees threatened to give way altogether. Just as his mouth settled over hers, he whispered, “You are the most aggravating, mule-headed and sexy woman I’ve ever met.”
“And ... and you’re my worst nightmare.”
“I know.”
Oh, Lord, she could barely think. let alone talk. Embers sparked. Desire pounded through her brain and it was all she could do not to grab him and never let go.
He kissed her then. Hard. With his whole body. As if he never intended to stop. His mouth clamped over hers and his body was pressed tight to the contours of hers. Wild, wanton thoughts tore through her brain. Hot as an East Texas wind and twice as willful, a yearning like no other raged deep in her soul. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t resist. She gasped, and through her open mouth his eager tongue pushed past her teeth. Her eyes fluttered shut. Memories of a younger time played through her mind. Oh, God, how she’d loved him then; how she wanted him still.
His tongue teased and flicked against hers, scraping the roof of her mouth as his lips caressed hers. He was everywhere, his hands holding her fast, his breathing as ragged as her own.
Don’t do this, Shelby. This is treacherous.
She remembered making love to him in a spring storm, his honed wet body mounting hers, his bare hips thrusting forcefully as he entered her, the smell and feel and taste of him surrounding her then as they did now.
He lifted his head and she clung to him.
“Miss me?” he taunted, twining his calloused fingers through her hair and tugging so that she was forced to open her eyes and stare up at him.
“Not—not a second.”
He laughed grufny. “As bad a liar as you are, Shelby Cole, you sure don’t know when to quit.”
“What?” she asked, gasping. “And ruin all this fun?”
“You’re pushing me, darlin’, and that could be dangerous.”
“Could it?” She laughed. “I don’t see how.”
“As I said before, watch.” He kissed her again and this time his deliberation was replaced with fervor. Hard, demanding lips met hers, and his fingers found the buttons running down the front of her dress. One by one they were released from their bonds and the bodice opened, exposing breasts held tight by a filmy bra. Her nipples tensed under his touch, hard little buttons pressing against black lace.
Inside she turned to hot tallow and her bones became water.
He buried his face in the cleft of her breasts and his breath was hot and wet, steamy against the skin of her abdomen. She thought of what he could do to her, how long it had been since he’d loved her, and she ached for more.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said as he kissed the top of one breast, then slid his tongue over the scrap of lace to flick against her nipple. She writhed in his arms, the fingers of both hands running through his hair, yet holding his head fast against her. With a groan that touched the deepest core of her, he bit and toyed with her, never letting up.
Desire sizzled through her brain, thundered in her ears. “Nevada!” she cried in a voice she didn’t recognize as her own.
“What, darlin’?” he asked, his breath teasing her skin.
“!—I—”
“I know.” Deftly, he lifted her from her feet and carried her through an open doorway to a small, dark bedroom. “Me, too.” Together they tumbled onto a soft bedspread and mattress that gave with their weight. They kissed frantically and the need deep within her pulsed hot and wild through her veins. She knew she should stop this madness, that making love to him would be the worst possible mistake of her life, but that wild, rebellious part of her that he’d released ten years earlier was revived and tonight, alone with him. away from the prying eyes of her father and the worries over her child—their child—she let go.
He pushed her dress over her shoulders and tossed her bra onto the floor. She shoved his shirt over corded, muscular shoulders and closed her mind to the doubts that screamed at her. It had been so long, so damned long since she’d loved him. His lips were everywhere and heat uncoiled within her, need pulsing through her blood, want pounding in her brain.
More buttons gave way. Her dress parted completely, leaving her only in panties. His breath worked magic against her abdomen, his fingers rough and coarse. She let out a long, low moan as his tongue rimmed her navel and his hands slipped beneath her, cupping her buttocks, lifting her upward, closer. He kissed her gently, stroking with his tongue, sliding ever lower.
Her mind spun in sensuous circles, and she traced the muscles of his shoulders and arms. He kicked off his boots, his jeans.
No, no, no! Don’t do this.
His fingers splayed over her lower spine.
“Tell me no.”
Yes, tell him!
“I—I can’t.”
“Shelby, this is dangerous.” His words whispered across her mound, ruffling the fluff of down that covered the juncture of her legs.
Trembling, writhing with want, she couldn’t find the words to stop, didn’t want to. Tonight was theirs. She closed her mind to yesterday, wouldn’t consider tomorrow. His lips were wet, warm as they kissed her inner thigh.
She gasped.
The ache within her yawned.
His mouth brushed closer.
Her heart was thrumming, her mind spinning. The night faded away, melted into the shadows. He kissed her intimately, and she opened to him, wanting, needing—so hot she couldn’t drag in a breath.
She wanted him as she’d always wanted him, the only man she’d ever trusted with her heart, the only man she’d allowed to break it.
His fingers dug into her buttocks, holding her fast as she began to rock, faster and faster, her blood pumping, pulsing through her veins until, somewhere in the furthest reaches within her, a dam broke. Violently. Wildly. Her spirit, so hopelessly trapped in a private misery, flew free. She cried out, her voice powerful where it bad been weak only seconds before.
“Nevada—”
“Right here, darlin’,” he said and inched up to hold her close. His breathing was labored, his beard rough against her cheek, and he kissed her on the lips while his knees parted her legs. She was lost in the wonder and feel of him. “Oh, God, Shelby, I’ve missed you,” he said and then thrust deep into her. Closing her eyes, lost in the warmth and feel of him, she let go, her body moving easily with his, catching his rhythm quickly, as if they had been lovers for years.
“Shelby ... beautiful Shelby,” he whispered, his voice raw, his body wet with sweat. Faster and faster, like a horse galloping out of control toward a great, yawning abyss, he pushed her, breathing hard, holding her close. Shelby couldn’t think, could barely breathe.
I love
you,
Nevada,
she thought desperately and mouthed the words, though her voice failed her. Lightning splintered behind her eyes. Her body convulsed.
“I can’t stop, I can’t...” He stiffened, the muscles of his butt flexing, his back curving as he poured himself into her until he fell, gasping, upon her, his breathing ragged, shallow. “Dear God,” he whispered into the hollow of her throat.
She clung to him and blinked against a sudden, unwanted, hot rush of unexpected tears. “I—I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean...”
“Shh. It’s all right.” Strong arms surrounded her, and a big hand held her face against his chest, where she heard the steady, strong beat of his heart. She sniffed, refusing to let go; unwilling to let her defenses down for even a second. He kissed her forehead, and she fought the urge to sob against him.
“I was worried about you,” he finally admitted as they lay alone in the darkness of his room. Through the partially open window she heard the sounds of the night—a cow lowing, traffic humming on a far-off highway.

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