Wildly Inappropriate (26 page)

"I think I like this game." He wrapped his hands in her braids, smiling inwardly when she resisted his tug. Exerting more force, he pulled her head down until their lips touched. It was crazy, but kissing her made him forget everything except how insanely good she felt. Lying on the floor, he felt as though he were spinning. Pushing past her lips, he explored her mouth more gently than was his habit, reveling in her taste. He was growing hard and he needed her. Tugging her hair gently to one side, he prepared to roll her over and take her right there on the floor.

She broke their kiss. "Still my hour," she panted, sitting up. She picked up a bag and untied the ribbon, sliding it slowly out of the casing, her eyes never leaving his. The dried beans scattered when she dropped the bag, but he was focused on the way she slid her butt lower down his thighs.

She suddenly leaned forward and touched her nose to his, rubbing them together. "I keep thinkin' about that peach," she confessed.

He kneaded her ass, loving the way it filled his large hands and spilled over. "I'm definitely going to spank you later for stalling. You mean Chapman's Folly?"

She shook her head. The sound of the beads in her hair tapping together made him want to smile. "No, the one with the skin that makes you itch."

"That's the same one. He called it Dark Beauty, but his friends, the other peach growers, they called it his folly. He wasted about a decade fooling with it."

"Seems to me it wasn't time wasted, Daniel. I mean, the flavor is unlike anything else. People just need to taste it once."

He thought back. "I read his old journals. He said people didn't want a peach that didn't look the way they expected a peach to look. That was on top of all the other problems."

"You should get a sign painted and put it up next year. Put a small ad in the newspaper and let people come pick their own. Or get them picked and put them in the markets. Maybe even get a contract to sell them to a local restaurant or to the country club. Or dig up the saplings and sell them. They mail little trees. Grams bought some like that once."

"This is what you want to spend your hour talking about? A peach no one wants to buy?"

"I just can't get it off my mind." She shrugged. "I don't know why. So what if the fruit's got a few drawbacks? Inside is what counts. If you're holdin' a knife to peel it, then how hard is it to cut out that stone? It's well worth the extra work."

"Sugar, he tried to market that peach. No one wanted to buy 'em. They were too tart for most people's recipes. Folks hate change."

"They may hate it, but a new generation's doin' the cookin' now, Daniel. Folks' tastes have changed. Look at all the companies sellin' specialty drinks that are fruit blends. Your grandpa, he was just a man ahead of his time."

"There are only about twenty acres of those trees, Cynda. That's not enough to interest a big food processor in buying the crop, if that's what you're thinking."

"Twenty now. Plenty of seeds out there to make trees, though. I'm thinkin' maybe I might work on some recipes. Maybe we could pick the fruit so I could put some up to have to experiment with?"

His pulse took a leap.
She wants to stay.
Is she pleading for more than a peach with obvious drawbacks?
It was obvious
she cared about something he took for granted. Before he could decide what to say, she coiled the ends of the ribbon around her forefingers, stretching it taut.

"Daniel, unzip those pants."

He unzipped and freed his cock from his boxers, stroking himself while he watched her carefully fold the end of the ribbon in half lengthwise and touch it to the end of her tongue before threading a bead from her hair onto the ribbon.

When she'd pushed the bead to the middle of the bit of silk, she gave his hand a light slap. "Did I say you could touch yourself? When I want you hard, I'll get you that way."

Their gazes locked and he saw the plea in her eyes. The way she squinted a bit told him she was measuring his reaction. Dan tucked his hands under his head. He'd never wanted her more or wanted less to give up control, but that wary look on her face said this was some kind of test and he didn't want to fail.

Two beads, then a third went onto the ribbon. Figuring out her intent, Dan began to battle his growing arousal, pleased his cock wasn't fully hard when she got the tenth bead on the band and tied the now-studded ribbon tightly into a bow around his shaft. He had to admire the ingenuity of her impromptu cock ring. The beads sank into the base of his shaft. The stricture made him hard in a hurry; her hand did the rest. She cupped her palm around the head, caressing it so softly his hips jerked upward involuntarily, seeking more.

At her warning glance, he laced his fingers together to stop from taking charge. Her strokes were slow and sure. The ache in his cock seemed to expand until it echoed in his chest. Dan held his breath when she moved back until her ass was past his knees and lowered her head. The kiss she pressed to his cockhead sent a tremor through him that seemed out of proportion to her gentle gesture, chasing his breath away again. His gaze was riveted to her full lips, but to his dismay, she went no further than that one sweet touch.

When she gathered her dress around her waist and moved until she was poised above his cock, he almost lost his fight to let her take him the way she wanted. She was wet when he pierced her and the little devil lowered her body so slowly he growled with frustration. Leaning forward, she grasped his forearms and finally took him all the way in.

She whimpered, a tiny sound he felt to his bones. He owed Colton an apology, he knew, suddenly thinking of a time when his brother had been desperate to find a way to make Lila commit to him, and Dan's lame advice had been "keep being you". He was gripped by a need to be so much more to Cynda than he thought he was capable of, and mixed up with that thought was more sardonic laughter from Rafe.

"Fuck me," he begged, to keep from begging her for something else.

She rode him slow and easy until he thought he'd explode from impatience. "I'm definitely going to spank you for this later," he promised her through clenched teeth. The flash of excitement in her eyes sealed his fate.

He'd never figure out how he could fall when he was already on the floor, but he tumbled into a space he'd never known could exist. She laid her upper body against his chest though her hips never stilled. He felt every breath, every ripple of pleasure inside her until she drove them both senseless. With his last coherent thought he wrapped his arms around her and nudged her cheek with his chin.

"Kiss me," he demanded, because it just wasn't possible he could feel so much for her and she feel nothing in return. He'd make her feel it, if he had to change the world. She tilted her lips up to his and his heart and head went spinning again.

"Hey, how many beds are in this house, anyway? Seven? Eight?"

Dan jerked, turning his head far enough to see Colton standing in the archway. "Get me the hammer," he growled in exasperation to Cynda, referring to the last time they'd been interrupted, by Jonah, and he'd joked about nailing the back door shut. Her body shook with her giggles, telling him she remembered, too. He marveled over the delightful sensation of being hard and buried inside a woman who was laughing at a private joke only the two of them shared.
This feels nice.

"Oh, hell no. Get it your damn self," Colton retorted. "Last time I saw someone open a drawer around here, a biiig dildo jumped out. I still can't sleep nights for wondering what kind of damage a colony of dildo gremlins can do in the dark."

"I always heard penis envy was painful. Does Tylenol help?" Cynda asked through her laughter.

Dan hastily yanked her dress down. She tightened around his cock. He didn't want this to end, didn't want to deal with his brother's questions about why all the police cars were outside, or spend hours speculating about what that bone might mean. He thought he saw the same frustration mirrored in Cynda's expression. She seemed in no hurry to get off his cock. Then he heard Lila speak.

"Jonah's nearly completed his inventory of your refrigerator contents. We'll go supervise that right now." When he heard her whisper harshly, "Thank God it's your turn to answer Jonah's questions. You get to explain what a dildo is," Dan began laughing, in spite of the storm he felt brewing in their lives. Hearing Lila's feminine concerns and having Cynda wrapped around him made him start to believe that whatever was coming, he might survive it.

"Get those really long nails like they use to put gutters on a house," Cynda muttered. "I'll drive 'em in myself."

"I'll buy you a nail gun," he promised, pulling her head down for another kiss. His uninvited guests could wait.

Chapter Twenty-One

"Bet some idiot planted another marijuana crop." Cynda studied Eric, who yanked open a cabinet door while he talked. "It's been, what, Dan, 'bout five years since the last dumbass came on our land to do that? That's the first thing I thought when I saw all the cops. Damn fools think 'cause we don't work the farm, we—"

"Lila's pregnant," Jonah burst out.

"Lila's
what
?" Cynda saw Daniel's mouth fall open. Eric dropped the cup he'd just taken out of the cabinet. The plastic tumbler bounced over her foot. She suppressed a smile, delighted that Lila had had the foresight to arrange for tests of Colton's sperm before her gynecologist's appointment since their shocked looks proved the older woman right. Cynda had no trouble seeing that everyone in his family believed Colton's late case of mumps had left him sterile.

"Pregnant," Colton repeated Jonah's statement, squeezing Lila's shoulder and planting yet another kiss on her cheek. "The baby's due in February."

"But… how?" Daniel demanded.

The back door slammed and Cynda realized Jonah had gone outside. Colton repeated the doctor's explanation that the body could repair itself and admitted he'd been shown his active "swimmers" under a microscope.

"Good God, Colton, you didn't fuck around, did you, little brother?"

Daniel had obviously been doing the mental math. Math Lila had done for Cynda while they languished in jail. The pair had only gotten together this past April, once Colton realized Lila's husband had died. Colton grinned broadly. Lila's cheeks turned a deep pink but Cynda saw the concern on the other woman's face. She was looking at the back door.

"Let me go," Cynda hastened to say. "Jonah and I might as well get better acquainted, if I'm going to be your nanny, Lila."

"We have a nanny?" Colton asked, his brows arching.

"Why do you need a nanny?" Eric demanded. "You don't work."

"I most certainly do work," Lila retorted. "Oh my God, Eric, you sound like the Walkers."

"It's just a hobby. Besides, you'll have to stop refinishing, if you're pregnant," Eric argued. "Those chemicals are harmful to the baby. So, you don't need a nanny."

"If she wants a nanny, she can have one," Colton informed his brother. "We need to get started adding a nursery onto my house. Can you get with Lila and figure out what she wants and draw me a plan, Eric?"

Eric shook his head, his stunned expression melting into one of sadness. "I'm good, little brother, but even I can't figure out what a woman wants." Lila used her middle finger to scratch her nose, making Eric grin. "Of course I can. I drew your original house plan, didn't I?"

Daniel frowned. "Nanny? A job like that… is that what you want, Cynda?"

Cynda realized her mistake immediately when all eyes turned to her. She'd cast herself into the role of a servant. She'd spoken honestly to Lila in jail. Judging from the brothers' expressions, she couldn't work for Lila and be Daniel's long-term anything. The toe of her shoe hit the cup Eric dropped when she stood. The hollow sound it made skidding across the floor matched the sudden emptiness in her breast.

You can only control whether or not they change you.
Daniel had said that to her that first day. She'd wear his dresses, braid her hair, play his games. Doing those superficial things made her more than she'd been before, somehow, although she couldn't put her finger on why she felt that way. But she couldn't deny that essential part of her that needed to nurture. It felt as though each word drove a nail into the door she felt closing between them. "Yes, it's exactly what I want."

"Need to draw up plans for two rooms, Eric. In case my nanny wants to live in," Lila added, looking at Cynda and smiling. Colton and Eric's brows went up, but Daniel's drew together in a snarl over his forehead and the piercing look he gave Cynda literally hurt. She set her chair carefully under the table before straightening her shoulders and walking slowly to the back door, the heels on her shoes ringing out her folly with every step she took.

Her cheeks were so hot she barely noticed the still-scorching temperature when she stepped out on the porch. Cynda tugged off her shoes, setting them neatly side-by-side to the left of the back door, in case she had to hunt for the child. Her too-young mother might've thought it cute to give the infant Cynda a middle name like Rella, but she was always stubbing her toe on the fact that there weren't any black women in those fairy tales her mom read to her as a child.

Looking around for Jonah, Cynda saw the leaves on the Angel's Trumpet tree in the large pot at the end of the porch shake violently. The kid was standing in the grass beside the porch, his head and shoulders visible above the railing. Through the spindles, she spied peach-tinted bits fluttering to the ground as he shredded the flower.

Cynda looked past Jonah to the spacious yard and the orchards beyond. Although it hurt, she pictured herself chasing the lightning bugs that would come out in a few hours, putting them in a baby-food jar for a few minutes to show a caramel-skinned child whose wide eyes matched Daniel's. A child he'd pick up and spoil when he came home from work.

He'd asked her once what her dreams were. She thought the biggest dream any woman could have was to be a mother. She longed for a man who'd be just her man, not some player who'd have a bunch of other women on the side. She wanted a man who'd work, not some jerk who was always getting fired because his job description was smaller than his ego. Someone reliable and solid, like her Grandpa Earl had been. But though he'd loved Grams to pieces, Coralinne had had to work to help make ends meet.