Return to Oak Valley (43 page)

Sloan shook his head. “No, but you're killing me, I can tell you that.”

She chuckled and ran her lips up and down his throat, nipping softly as she did so. “Poor baby. Suffer.”

Desire hummed between them, every touch, every caress, every kiss increasing the need for more and more and more…Their mouths locked together, their hands roamed with increasing urgency over each other as they teased and tormented the other almost to the point of madness.

With Sloan laid out on the ground like a feast before her, Shelly's mouth ravaged him, tasting the saltiness of his flesh, savoring the texture of his skin, the coarse hair on his chest, and the sleek muscles of his body. Sloan froze when her questing lips followed that line of hair that arrowed down to his groin, and he half growled, half groaned when her hot damp mouth closed around his erection. She drove him wild, the slick slide of her tongue on his sensitive flesh, the soft nibbles along his shaft, and when she took him fully into her mouth, he thought he'd die of pleasure. His hands clenched in her hair, his body arching in encouragement; he endured the dazzling torture of that sweet mouth as long as he could.

Unable to bear it a moment later, Sloan pushed her down on the ground, his mouth on her nipple, his hand between her legs, searching and exploring the hot dampness he found there. Shelly moaned, pushing up against his hand, silently inviting, demanding a deeper caress. He gave it to her, two fingers sinking into the satin heat, and her hips twisted upward to meet their thrust. Fire seared her belly, flames leaping into her veins as he plundered her depths, his fingers sinking deeper and deeper into her, taking her to the very edge of ecstasy. When his thumb found the swollen nub at the juncture of her thighs, and he brushed it once, twice, she screamed at the burst of pleasure that rocketed through her, cramming a fist in her mouth to block the sound. The world went incandescent, and she spun away, lost in the splendor of the moment.

It was Sloan's lips on her breast that brought her back to reality. Her fingers tugged at his hair, and his head lifted. Barely able to make out his features in the darkness, she kissed him, and said, “No one else. No one else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

“Good,” he muttered, “because it's the same for me. There's only you, only you.”

His mouth came down hard on hers, but when he would have moved between her legs, she pushed him back, forcing him to lie flat on the ground. A siren's smile on her lips, she straddled him and took him inside her. Slowly, torturously she rode him, her flesh clinging and tightening around him. “My turn,” she said softly.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moaned, as she increased the tempo, the sweet slide of flesh against flesh, making him writhe in pleasure, “you really
are
going to kill me.”

Breathless, ecstasy beginning its mind-blurring spiral again, Shelly said, “Then enjoy it, because I have no intention of stopping.” And she didn't.

It could have been minutes or hours later that they both became aware of the world around them. They were lying naked on their clothes, Shelly's head resting on his shoulder, and they were gazing through the leaves of the oak tree up at the star-studded sky.

“Have you ever noticed,” Shelly asked dreamily, “how many more stars there are here? How much brighter they are; how much blacker the sky is?”

“Hmm, yeah, you're right. It's the lack of outdoor light,” he replied, one hand gently caressing her hip. “No light reflection to fade the stars.” He shifted slightly so that he was staring down into her face. He kissed her. “Of course, I've always thought that it was the result of really good sex.”

Shelly made a face and pushed him away. Sitting up, she began to put on her clothing. Standing to finish pulling on her jeans, her head bent, she asked quietly, “Is that all it was to you? Just good sex?”

Sloan had risen, too, and he sighed. He didn't say anything as he dragged on his clothes, and Shelly's heart sank. Had she been a fool…again?

“Come here,” he said, and, catching Shelly by the arm, half walked, half dragged her over to the rear of the house. As she watched in bewilderment, he opened the back door and switched on the yellow bug light that hung above them.

His face washed in the yellow light, he stared down at her. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, giving her a little shake. “I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. I want to marry you. I'm going to marry you. And no, it wasn't just good sex. It was
great
sex—the way it should be between people who love each other and plan to spend the rest of their lives together.” As Shelly stared openmouthed at him, he shook her again. “Does that answer your question?”

Her brain went fuzzy. Feeling weak and dizzy, she could only stare at his beloved features. “But what about…I mean…” Her fingers suddenly gripped the front of his shirt. Desperately, she asked, “Are you sure? Do you really mean it?”

He smiled tenderly. “With all my heart.” His finger lifted her chin, and he kissed her with great sweetness. “This isn't the time or the place that I would have chosen for this moment,” he said softly, “but will you marry me? Please?”

Shelly's green eyes glowed, and there was a tremulous curve to her mouth. “Oh, wow!” she said, quite,
quite
unable to think of anything else to say.

Sloan quirked a brow, the one with the split in it. “Is that a wow yes, or a wow no?”

“Oh, wow, yes,” she said breathlessly, not giving herself time to think. She flung herself at him and, wrapping her arms tightly around him, muttered, “Oh, yes, yes,
yes
!”

A killing weight he hadn't even been aware that he carried slid away from Sloan, and he crushed her to him. “This time,” he vowed into her hair, “this time nothing is going to stop us. I want us to be married as soon as possible, and unless you want a big wedding with all the fanfare, I'd just as soon fly to Reno tomorrow and get married there.”

Shelly stiffened. Pushing him away, she studied his face. He was serious. She hesitated, torn. She loved him. He loved her. They'd waited seventeen years for this moment. She didn't really want a big wedding—in fact Reno would do her just fine. But not…tomorrow. And there were, she reminded herself, still questions about the past, about just what had really happened that night she had found him in Nancy's arms. How could she marry him if she doubted him, if she thought him a liar and a cheat? If she couldn't trust him, what sort of marriage would they have? Oh, but she loved him! But how long would their love survive if she harbored suspicion and mistrust?

She swallowed painfully, some of her joyful exuberance draining away. She hesitated, wondering if she wasn't letting her heart rule her head. OK, so her heart was calling the shots, but one thing was very clear in her mind. She loved him. She'd never stopped loving him. And she wanted to marry him. It was a second chance for both of them, and she wasn't going to blow it because she was a coward. She'd find a way to put the past to rest…somehow. She wanted to marry him more than she had ever wanted anything else—this was a second chance for both of them and she was going to grab it with both hands and hang on for dear life. On the other hand tomorrow was just too soon to get married. “I'll marry you,” she said slowly. “And I don't yearn for a big wedding: Reno will be fine.” Her gaze met his. “But could we please wait a couple of weeks?”

Sloan's lips tightened. “A couple of weeks isn't going to change how I feel.”

“And it isn't going to change my feelings either,” she retorted, a little irritated. “It's just that right now, I've got a lot on my plate.” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Roman just arrived; there's the settlement of the estate, the cattle operation—none of those things may seem important to you, but they are to me, and I'd like just a little time to get myself organized before taking such a huge step.” It was on the tip of her tongue to mention Josh's relationship to Nick, but without just blurting it out, she couldn't think of a way to introduce the subject. She bit her lip. And yet, if they were to marry, he should know about it. Somehow she'd have to think of a diplomatic way to spring it on him. “My life is pretty complicated right now,” she said softly, “all I'm asking for is a couple of weeks.” She smiled. “After that I'm all yours.”

Sloan growled and jerked her into his arms. “You're already all mine,” he said against her mouth. “Don't forget it.” His mouth came down hard on hers, all the love and longing he felt for her in that one kiss.

When Sloan finally lifted his head several minutes later, Shelly wasn't certain if her legs would hold her up. “Wow,” she breathed. “You kiss me like that very often, and I'll never have a coherent thought in my brain.”

“Good,” he said, satisfaction in his voice. His fingertips caressed her cheek. “There is just one thing…” When she looked at him, he smiled ruefully, “You haven't said that you love me…do you?”

His expression was so vulnerable that Shelly melted inside. Her heart almost too full of love for her to breathe, she kissed him tenderly. “I love you. I always have. I always will.”

Of course he kissed her again, a fierce joy in his heart. It was difficult to part, but eventually they did. Taking a deep breath, Sloan said, “Either we stop now or I'm afraid it's back to the grass for us.”

Shelly laughed. “I'm not exactly averse to the idea, but the next time we make love, I think I'd like it to be in bed.”

“Well, that's easily solved—if memory serves you have a perfectly adequate bed upstairs…and I have a very nice bed. Which?”

Reluctantly, Shelly shook her head. “No. Not tonight.” Shyly she said, “I know it's stupid and silly, but I don't want to spend the night with you until after we're married.”

Sloan looked aghast. “You mean I have to wait until after we're married to make love to you again?”

Shelly giggled at his expression. “No, I just don't want to sleep with you until then.”

“Honey, when I get you in a bed, we won't be sleeping, believe me.”

Sloan had parked out front and hand in hand they walked through the darkened, silent house toward the gleam of light that came from the sconces on either side of the front door. It was difficult to part, and while they did get out the front door, as one they drifted to the covered swing seat on the deck and spent several moments kissing, caressing, and murmuring the soft, silly words that lovers always do. With Shelly's head resting on his shoulder, their hands entwined between them, they sat and talked and kissed and talked some more.

“I hadn't thought about it before now, but there
are
a lot of things that will have to be taken care of once we're married,” Sloan said reflectively. He jerked his head in the direction of the house. “This house for one thing. What will you do with it?”

“I don't suppose you'd like to live here?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Josh's house? I don't think so.” He smiled crookedly. “Some things are hard to change, and my feelings about your brother are one of them.” When Shelly would have joined battle, he held up a hand, and said, “Whoa. He's your brother and you loved him—because of that, and only because of that, I'll try to keep a civil tongue in my mouth—but don't ask me to live in his house, OK? We don't have to live in my house either, although that would be my first choice. If you don't want to live there, I guess we could find a piece of property we both like and build something that suits the pair of us. But not here. Not in Josh's house.”

The past, she realized, would probably always rise up between them, but surely their love was strong enough to overcome the bitterness that lay behind them?

Her hand tightened in his. “Do you really love me?” she asked softly.

“More than anything else in the world,” he said huskily, kissing their locked fingers. “Never doubt it. I do love you.” A thought occurred to him, and he slanted her a wry look. “Is this where you tell me to prove it by agreeing to live in Josh's house?”

“Would you?”

“If it was the only way I could have you, hell, yes.” He grinned. “But I'll be honest—I'd probably find a way to burn the damn thing down before we were married for many months.”

“To save you from becoming an arsonist, I won't insist we live here,” she said with a laugh. “I guess we could start out living in your house and see how it goes from there.”

“Good idea. In the meantime, you can be thinking about what to do with Josh's house.” He hesitated. “Shelly, I know it's your property, and I don't want you to think that I meant that you had to sell it or anything like that, but we'll have to come to some sort of arrangement—although what it will be, I have no idea. We both have large holdings, and I don't see us merging our lands.” He grinned. “My father would have a heart attack at the very notion of joining Granger land with Ballinger land.” Gloomily, he added, “It's going to be hard enough for him to accept you as my wife. We may have settled our differences, but I don't know how the rest of the family is going to take our marriage.”

Shelly stiffened. “Well, if that's a problem for you, you can just not marry me!”

Sloan shook his head, smiling at her. “Not on your life—we're getting married, and no one is going to stop that. The Granger/Ballinger feud is someone else's problem from now on—it's no longer
our
feud.” He pulled her half-resisting form into his arms and kissed her. “Do you really think,” he murmured, “that I'd let anyone come between us?” When she remained mute, he shook her slightly. “Shelly, I love you. And if loving you means telling my whole family to go to hell, I will. You're what's important to me, and an ancient feud started long before I was even born sure isn't going to determine my future. Got that?”

She relented, saying ruefully, “It's going to be a touchy subject for us now and then, isn't it?”

“Probably, but as long as we love each other, we'll muddle through it, won't we?”

She met his intent gaze, seeing the love blazing in the depths of the brilliant golden eyes. “Yes,” she said confidently, “yes, we will.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, and, hands entwined, they rocked in the swing, their thoughts busy. There would be difficulties ahead—both of them realized that—they were two strong personalities, and they had a history behind them, a history that was both family and personal, and it would always be lurking in the background waiting to spring up and cause complications. Shelly sighed, thinking of Josh's house. There was one complication already, but as she considered it, a solution, maybe a solution to several problems, presented itself.