Up In Flames (17 page)

Jules cooked dinner that night. Nothing fancy. Pot roast and potatoes in the slow cooker. It had never been part of her living agreement with Shane that she provide his food, but after last night and after learning he'd paid for her roof, she felt she ought to do something.

What
was
the protocol for feeding the boarder you were sleeping with? Jules couldn't recall ever seeing any etiquette books on the subject at the local library.

She turned off the slow cooker and let the meal sit. She then heard Shane's pickup door slam shut and it froze her to her spot. Compelling herself to move, she took off the Hello Kitty apron she'd made in Home Economics class years ago, and washed her hands.

"Casual,” she muttered as the water poured over her trembling fingers. “Just be casual."

And then it occurred to her that preparing a home-cooked pot roast dinner with all the trimmings could be construed as something less than casual. Of course, paying for someone else's roof could also be construed as distinctly un-casual. At any rate, she suddenly wanted to toss the roast out the window. She set the table with her mother's cow plates instead and waited for Shane to enter, wishing she'd ordered a pizza.

Shane entered the farmhouse, unsure of what he'd find or how he should act, but eager to see Jules. The day had seemed interminable. His work had always fascinated him, but today it barely distracted him from thoughts of her. How would she react? Would she be distant, having had the day to reconsider the evening's impulsive actions? Or would she be hungry for him and jump into his arms?

He was hungry for her, that was clear. He'd had a hard-on all day, and it had only gotten harder on the ride home. Now all he could think of was riding Jules at home.

"Hi, Jules,” he called, catching a whiff of a wonderful scent.

"In the kitchen,” she called back.

He walked in and his heart jumped into his throat. The scene of wonderful domesticity she presented both touched and worried him. She'd made some sort of delicious meal and was wearing a cute, little sundress and heels. He could see she'd been wearing an apron with that Japanese cat on it, but had shoved it in a corner. Her hair was gelled back off her forehead, making her eyes look even brighter. If she'd been wearing pearls, he would have thought of June Cleaver. It was the sort of scene he'd craved the past few years, but it also terrified him with its implications. “Hey, you've been busy."

Jules offered him a guarded grin and stood still. She was giving off the same vibes she always did. The ones which clearly said “I am dying to run into your arms but will not do so upon pain of death because I'm trying to pretend I don't want you.” Crazy woman.

"Not really. It's just pot roast. I threw it together."

"You just threw it together, huh?” Shane approached her. He reached an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He kept his gaze wary, but his hands seemed to be moving of their own accord. His body wanted her and wouldn't be denied. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth. He couldn't miss the tiny moan sounding at the back of her throat. Before his roving tongue got him into trouble, he straightened up, keeping his hands on her hips. “It smells delicious."

Her chest was heaving ever so slightly under the cotton sundress. He could tell she was trying to control her breathing. His eyes dipped down to the outline of the cotton, at the way it strained against her full breasts.

She frowned, obviously trying to clear her head. “So, did you have a good day?"

Her voice had risen at the end of the question, betraying her unease. She wanted him, too. Wanted him badly. His voice came out a near growl. “It was all right."

As good as the meal smelled, he really didn't want any pot roast right now. He wanted her on the table in front of him instead. Cursing silently, he wondered how it was she managed to bring out some sort of barbarian in him.

She pulled out of his grasp and moved over to the counter. “I'll get the food if you need to wash up.” She turned, quashing his plan to lay her out on the kitchen table.

For now, he decided.

While Shane changed and cleaned up, Jules ran around the kitchen furiously, cursing the kitten heels she'd decided to wear. She ripped off her strappy sandals and tossed them into a corner and continued to plate the food. She was about to open a bottle of wine, but then thought better of it. “No,” she whispered to herself. “This is not a romantic dinner. If he wants wine, then I'll open it."

She got everything ready, but her heart was racing from the effort of trying to remain composed and not jump Shane's bones. She stood still for a moment, putting a hand over her chest, trying desperately to calm her heartbeat. It was beating right out of her chest.

Jules closed her eyes and visualized a beautiful valley scene, full of flowers and hills and gurgling rivers. All was peace in the valley, and she started to calm down.

Until her fevered mind produced an unwanted image of Shane Gaskill as a half-naked, rampaging knight on a steed. He tore into her peaceful valley and threw her, the fair maiden, on a bed of moss and made crazy, medieval love to her.

"Well, that didn't work,” she murmured.

"What was that?"

She turned, blushing at being caught with her randy daydreams. “Oh, nothing. Have a seat. You must be tired.” She took a seat at the table. The one furthest away from him.

Shane stared at her and at her chair for a moment. Then, purposely, he sat in the chair next to hers, making her squirm. “I'd prefer to sit here, next to you, if you don't mind."

Oh God, thought Juliet. He's got that look in his eye. The one he had last night. She grasped at a topic. “So, what adventures did you get into today?"

He made a small huffing noise. “You really want to make small talk right now?"

"Yes, please,” she confessed quietly.

"Fine.” He looked at her, resigned. “Actually, we had to do a rescue at an old factory on the outskirts of town. Some teenage girls decided to do some exploring where they didn't belong and got stuck in some old machinery. I wondered for a bit if they might be the ones setting the small fires around town lately, but arsonists are usually male."

"I read about that in the paper. It's been, what, four tool sheds now?"

"Four too many, if you ask me.” His face changed. He hadn't told her about the taunting note at the scene of that second fire. He still didn't know definitively if the note was connected to the other notes and didn't want to terrify her needlessly. “Anyway, those girls today were just looking for fun in the wrong place. They're all fine, just a little frightened. Serves them right."

"And did you give them a good lecture, Captain Gaskill?” She smiled as she poured some water for him.

"Damn straight, I did. That's why I always made sure my kid sister had a part-time job when she was in school. Kept her out of trouble.” He tucked into the pot roast and his eyes widened. A seductive little laugh escaped him. “This is the second-best thing I've ever tasted."

Jules was about to ask what the best was, and then their eyes met. For a moment, they both blushed with memories of the previous night and morning. Memories of other things he'd tasted.

"I didn't know you were such a good cook,” he mumbled, clearly trying to ignore his significant arousal. “I'm so glad you didn't bleed into this meal."

Jules gasped and laughed. “I knew you'd never let me live that one down, evil man."

His eyes met hers again, and he did look distinctly evil. Sexy, smoldering evil.

Jules pierced a potato and popped it into her mouth, swallowing with difficulty. “ I didn't know you had a little sister."

"Yeah,” he replied, grinning. “Becky. She's thirty-three now but she still thinks I cramp her style. I was a bit of a domineering, bossy older brother. You know, always making sure she had a ride home from parties, not letting her drink, scaring the boys away from her. She hated me for a long time, but I couldn't help it. Becky was an easily-influenced kid and my folks were so busy with their work. I considered it my job to keep her from falling in with the wrong people.” He laughed to himself. “She still calls me Brother Shane. You know, like a monk."

Jules smiled. There was nothing monk-like about him. If only Becky knew. “I think it sounds sweet. You were protective of her."

"I do tend to get a little caveman-like when it comes to women. I don't like it when men mistreat them. It's the one thing which makes me want to lash out.” And then he gave her a look which said he was ready to stop talking about his sister.

She remembered how he was the day he first saw her with Kevin. Even though he was a stranger, he was completely on her side. Protective. Very much like that knight on his steed. He must have been a formidable, but caring, brother.

He'd make an incredible father, too.

Whoa, she considered. Where did
that
come from?

Without warning, Shane threw his fork and knife down. He let out a huge puff of air and stared at her, frowning. “Look, Jules. I have to say something."

Here it comes, she thought. This is where he tells me it's not working. That he's moving on. She put up a hand to stop him. “Can I say something first? You paid for my roof."

"Yes. You needed a new roof."

"Shane, have you seen the size of that roof? This is a huge house. It cost thousands of dollars. I can't let you do it."

"It's done.” His eyes burned into her, letting her know unequivocally that there was no way he was letting her take the satisfaction from him. “I enjoyed taking care of it for you. I can afford it. It's okay, Jules."

Her head started to shake a little of its own accord. “It's really not okay."

Shane stood and moved next to her, pulling her into a standing position in front of him. Holding her hands, he spoke quietly. “It's done."

She looked up at him, awed and hungry for him, and feeling guilty at the same time. “Thank-you."

He pulled her tighter, pressing his cock into her belly. “Look, all day long, I've been telling myself what happened last night really shouldn't happen again."

"I know. Neither of us is really in a good place right now."

"Neither of us should be in a relationship."

"Of course not."

"Definitely not.” His gaze dropped to the bare skin of her arms and shoulders, and he traced a path down her arm with his fingers. “But the fact remains ... today, all I could think of was you."

"Me too.” She bit her bottom lip, trying hard to reign in the sense of excitement and agony flooding her soul. He must be able to feel her racing pulse as he stroked her arms.

He frowned even harder. “I'm going to sound like a total Neanderthal for saying this. But if only we could agree to keep things light..."

"Casual,” she interjected, her breath catching. “J-just physical."

He ground his erection against her and she melted against him. “Yeah, physical. A purely physical relationship. Would that be wrong?"

"People do it all the time. Why can't we?"

"Can you?” He lowered his mouth to her face and she felt his breath on her cheeks.

"Yes,” her addled heart cried. “Yes."

That one little word was his undoing. Shane picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His mouth met with hers, frantic, needy. He carried her into the living room and plopped her on the couch, tearing at his clothes. She was desperately trying to unzip herself in back but her fingers were fumbling. Seeing her urgency, he grew even hungrier. Within seconds, he was nude and reaching for the condom in his pant pocket. Jules cursed her stuck zipper. “Never mind the dress, Jules. Turn around."

She looked at him with uncertainty, but allowed him to turn her body so she was leaning over the back of the couch. Shane shoved her dress up to her waist and ripped her panties down off her legs. And then he moved under her so she was straddling his face on the couch. Clutching at her backside, he swirled his tongue around her swollen clit and sucked. She was so wet, so sweet, already. He slid his tongue along each fold, laving her, even dragging his teeth along her sensitive inner lips.

He'd dreamed of taking her like this all day, and she was so fucking hot and tasty. “Oh, Jules,” he murmured, “it makes me so hot when I think of tasting you. I could eat you all night long."

With a protracted groan, she came. Shane lapped and lapped, as if she were a popsicle melting from his heat. She was that sweet, mouth-watering. And before she sank onto the couch, he slid from her and moved around her, nuzzling and nipping at her backside. He ran his hands along the tender globes of her ass. “So beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her lower back.

"Shane,” she uttered, her voice guttural, demanding.

"Don't worry. I'm not nearly done yet,” he chuckled. He pulled her hips towards him and plunged into her from behind. Her body gripped him, sheathed him, milked him. She felt so tight, so right. Shane couldn't stop the raging urge to pound away at her, to watch as her ass jiggled against him. He began to thrust slowly, determined to make it last, but it seemed Jules had other ideas.

She wiggled her butt against his groin, trying to take him deeper. She clenched, moving along his length and he wanted to scream at the tantalizing sight. He couldn't wait. He needed to move. He needed to drive into her with the same force howling in his head.

Take her
, said the voice inside him.
Take her
.

And he did. Shane plunged into her over and over, and a crescendo of sensation roared through his sex and into every limb. Her body quivered, giving, taking more of him. His fingers biting into her hips, he sank into her luscious flesh as his orgasm exploded through him. Panting, he rolled with her on the couch, cradling her in his arms.

Physical, purely physical, he thought. Sure. We can do this. No problem.

Meanwhile, his head was ready to explode and he couldn't think for wanting her so much. His entire body betrayed his need on a regular basis. Nothing in him seemed to work the way it did before. He wasn't seeing things the same, wasn't hearing things the same. Hell, he wasn't even smelling things the same way.