Falling Under (6 page)

He chuckled, a sound filled with a depth of intent that sent goosebumps up my bare arms, “I’m going to show you how to drive something, but it ain’t the backhoe,” his words were thick with meaning.

A knot of anticipation tinged with a real fear twisted inside my throat, I reached for the roof of the backhoe and tried not to tremble.

His hands snaked around my waist, caught the edge of my shirt. He pulled it up over my tummy, up my rib cage, to the underside of my breasts. He stopped. Lingered.  His fingers cupped my fullness in his hard palms. He squeezed, I jerked, he eased up, then palmed them again.  I gripped my lip between my teeth to block the unwary cries that built in my throat.

His mouth met my neck, with lips, teeth, tongue, he feasted on the soft, silken flesh there. The cold steel of the roof bit into palms, I tensed against the roving heat of his mouth and coldness that was burning my palms. Mouth open, I hunted for enough air to breathe.

Without warning, he yanked the shirt over the tip of my breasts, then my head.

A stark image looked back at me from the window, wide eyes, open mouth, the tip of my pink tongue showed … my breasts stood up high, full, my scarlet nipples budded with the tightness of arousal. His big, brown callused hands came into view. I watched mesmerized as they slid up to the swell of my breasts, his calluses setting off every pleasure point secreted just beneath the thin softness of my skin. I shivered as his long, blunt fingers reached towards my nipples, caught them between thumb and forefinger and then his eyes flicked up to mine.  They were hooded, dark with meaning. Eyes on me, he applied slow, increasing pressure to the tips.

I arched, a throttled cry in my throat, he released me, his eyes broke from mine. His hot lips skimmed against the nape of my neck.  His hands dipped lower.  Lingered down the valley between my breasts and beyond. I froze as his hand settled gently on the mound between my legs.

His head reared up and in the clear glass of the backhoe, his eyes shone, green sparks of fire in his lean face. He looked wild, yet eerily focused.

I sucked in a dry, shuddering breath.

“Damn, I want you,” he rasped, “but is this what you want?”

Intoxicated by the desire blazing in his eyes, I reached down one trembling hand, lifted his fingers off my womanhood and undid my zipper.

His eyes went to slits, his strong nostrils flared. He took over the task. Palmed my hips and jerked the strip of denim down my legs.

There was a rustle and a few decisive movements as his own clothing got cast away. I relaxed into his arms as he lifted me over him, at the last moment I tensed but it was already too late and I had no regrets. A sharp sting and a deep gliding force completed what had begun the moment we talked to each other beside the lake.

He rushed to soothe me, whispered in my ear. I shivered as his words came out harsh, unintelligible from the tumult going on in my head. Thousands of sensations battled their way for control of me. It was like being ripped apart in every way. I clamped down onto him, wanting him closer, he tensed and then took up my offer, delving into me and shuddering each time he pulled away. Making us one in ways which I would never be able to forget.

He growled into my ear, “Ah sweetie … you’re tearing me apart.”

His words set off something inside me, a hidden switch I didn’t know was there. I began to tense, my entire body started to undulate, my hips, the prison of my legs with him caught between them. A ruthlessness rose up inside me, one that was so hungry, I cried out against the ache. I clawed at him, my fingers raking down the sides of his face, his head, anywhere they could find purchase. He grunted, buried his head in the crook of my neck, caught my waist in a vicelike hold and surged unstoppably upwards. My heart tripped inside my chest as breathless I met his response with quick, uncoordinated plunges of my hips.

And just like that firecrackers, the ones building in my gut and burning through my blood, went off, all at once. I froze, gasped, flung my head back causing my hair to whip about my face. A soundless scream swallowed the last of my strength, emptied my joints of the ability to move. Somewhere in the noiseless storm of my release came the low, rough chant of his, his arms wrapped so fiercely around my body that I could hear his thundering heartbeat echoing through my own.

Chapter ten

He groaned, turned me slowly so that our eyes locked.

There was nothing between us now, no clothes, one less wall. A wet slick sound drew my eyes downwards to where we’re still mated with sweat and much more. His skin is a shade lighter than my olive hue, dusted with dark, springy curls that arrow to where we’re joined.

He tipped my chin up but my eyes are heavy, drugged by an orgasm that is still tingling through my toes. But … my eyes fly open with sudden realization. His gaze is far from satiated, his eyes are lush and alive and burning for me again!

I begin to shudder with a raw sense of newfound greed, moisture has already begun to seep between my legs.

His eyes rake mine, gleaming with pleasure at what he sees there, “I want you to come with me when I leave,” he says.

What? I have to shake my head to clear it.

He pulls me closer, inside me he stirs, hardening once again.

I moan and catch my swollen lip, I shake my head, “I don’t understand, where are you going?”

“To Wyoming, I’ve been offered a position in a clinic there, to finish my residency.”

Loss. Profound and horrific fisted around my heart. And then I understood something else, what he was asking.

I reared back from him, “I won’t chose between you or my father. He’s the only family I’ve got!

His face turns hard, “You know he’ll never want us to be together, ” he searched my eyes, his own face sharpened by bitterness, “this could be a new life for both of us. Please. Come with me.”

I groaned in dismay. I was being crushed between family duty and the prospect of being with him. Overcome, I slumped against him and begin to cry.

He tugged me gently into his arms, “hush sweetie, didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I wince. He’s apologizing for offering me a chance at happily ever after. And I couldn’t take it without breaking my dad’s heart.

Dammit!

He levered me up, starts to lift me off of him. Driven by the desire to hold onto him I clamp my legs down on either side of his waist, my knees grind into the cracked black leather of the driver’s seat.

A startled grunt rumbles deep in his throat, his green eyes are soft but they’re clouded with confusion, he searches my face, “sweetie, I need you off me, I can’t think when your soft ass is riding my cock.”

I tipped my head back and I can see myself in his eyes. Wild hair, wet from the sweat of our lovemaking is spilled down over my tight nipples, a sheen of moisture on my forehead, my lips are swollen. I slip my tongue out and draw it leisurely across my bottom lip.

“Shit!” he exploded, “are you trying to drive me fucking insane!”

I grin ruthlessly, tilt my head to the side, his eyes follow my every movement hungry and yet there is a spark of anger there.

I shake my head leisurely, letting the tips of my hair sway across his chest, he draws in a swift breath, “No,” I lean forward and catch his swollen bottom lip between my teeth, I nip him hard, he stiffens but instead of pushing me away his callused hands come up and jerk me into him.

I draw back reluctantly from his plundering mouth and savor the look of raw hunger staring back at me from his eyes, “I’m not trying to fuck with you. I’m frightened because this has to end.”

He stiffened. Closed his eyes. He has my answer.

I won’t come with you
.

His face is drawn and the eyes he lifts to me are hollow with his shock, “so this is goodbye?”

I nod. Too choked to speak.

I leaned back, our eyes locked and as easy as breathing we’re inside each other again. I ride him. Slowly. The sway of our bodies seemed to take place in a cocooned realm. It feels as if I’m falling under until the touch of his mouth, softened and warmed from too many kisses call me back to the growing urgency of his body  beneath mine. Our stomach’s catch and release against each other, my hips swirl on him, he grabs my hair and yanks me backwards so that my throat is free for his lips.

Too soon, it’s much too much, when my crowded senses threaten to split me apart. My hands grope blindly for the cold metal roof of the backhoe again and my mouth falls open as he fastened me into the brutal clench of his arms and pinned me down to accept the rabid ferocity of his driving body as he hurled me over the edge of sanity.

I throw out my arms, blindly clench his hot, slick chest to mine and ride the powerful jerk of his body as his world splintered around me.

It’s already evening when we enter his truck to drive home, the sun is orange and soft, a bank of clouds cut across its center, dividing it in two.

I sneak a peek at him but he’s not looking at me, his eyes are focused ahead and I can’t guess what he’s thinking.

I lift his tool bag into the back of the jeep. He comes around and opens the door for me, gives me an unnecessary boost in.

I shiver with aftershocks as his hands briefly meet around my waist. Moving on instinct I turn my face to his. He’s there waiting. He takes a quick, strong pull of my lips and releases me.

The night’s drive is quiet, the county roads mostly deserted. Every mile or so small flickers of yellow light wink from behind the dark faces of trees.

Too soon we will pull up in front of my home. The house is in complete darkness. Empty.

I step down from the jeep as he comes around to my side and holds my hand.

A shadow moves away from the side of the house and comes towards us.

Dad.

I lift my chin and walk beside Jake who tenses up.

Abruptly I’m being shoved back, behind the wall of Jake’s back, “Don’t move,” Jake roars at me.

I ignore him. Push my way forward past the bars of his arms.

My eyes bulge. Even in the darkness I can see it clearly, trace the outline of its sleek, deadly design.

A shotgun. In my dad’s hand. Its pointed right at Jake’s face.

My dad snarls, “there’s no way in hell you’re taking my little girl from me!”

A sob strangles in my throat. The agony in his voice calls to me. I go to him but a hand on my arm yanks me backwards. I turn wildly on him, grip his thick wrist as hard as I can, I glare up into his eyes, “don’t be a selfish bastard, he’s the only father I’ve ever had,” I hiss.

Jake stiffens, drops my arm, “I just want to protect you.”

I take a deep breath, try to relax, “I know.”

He clamps his lips tight and turns narrowed eyes on the gun in my dad’s hand.

I take the steps slowly, come face to face with my dad. His dark eyes are luminous in his haggard face. Tears?

The last time he’d cried was when my mom died a decade ago just a few months after they’d taken a huge risk and adopted an eight year old. I was all he had left.

I reached for his hand wrapped around the barrel of the shotgun, behind me Jake growled, I blocked him out.

I had eyes only for my dad, “It’s okay,” my lips trembled, “Jake’s leaving town. It’s over.” Nausea rolled in my stomach and I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief moment to haul myself together.

“What?” Dad gasped, his voice cracking, he searched my face frantic that he hadn’t heard me clearly, “you won’t see him anymore?”

“No,” I whispered, I tried to smile for him and failed.

Dad lowered the gun, pulled me awkwardly into his arms, “aw honey, I thought I’d lost you … when you didn’t come home,” he stopped not wanting to disgrace himself in front of Jake.

He looked at Jake, “Son, you got one minute to get off my land.”

I stepped away from dad’s hold, “I need to say goodbye.” I didn’t wait for a single objection. I turned and before I knew it I was running.

I flung myself into Jake’s arms which were open for me.

“Oh God … ” my voice broke. I wanted to say so much more but there wasn’t time to say what I felt. I wasn’t even sure I would be able to find the words. I buried my face next to his, reveled in the soft scratch of his whiskers against my cheek.

Jake’s heart thundered against my chest but he doesn’t say anything. His body does. His arms fold me up and seal me against him.

And then he starts to let me go, in such slow increments I don’t feel it until he leans away.

He reached out and ran a rough finger down my jaw, “sweetie, we can’t stay here all night, I’ve got to let you go.”

He dropped his hand, stood back and heads to the wrangler. Too soon the engine rumbles to life.

I watch him go.  And he never looked back.

Chapter eleven

The headlights of Jake’s jeep vanished around a turn as I grew numb with the realization that I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.

I swung to my dad who grimaced at the sight of my face.

He reached for me, I stepped into his touch because he’ll always be my dad, “Lola, you don’t really know him.”

I shake my head, tears of loss of a different kind run silently down my cheeks, “that’s not really what counts. I need the chance to know him.”

Dad hangs his head, “Promise me that this will always be your home. That sometimes you’ll come back?”

I choked and lay my head on his fast beating heart, “you’re my father, my family. I won’t ever forget that.”

He looked down into my face, “come back soon just so I know you’re alright and that I won’t have to pull out old Betsy here to set him straight,” Great, big tears gleam in his dark eyes.

I laugh because it’s too painful to do anything else.

Fifteen minutes later Dr. Heathcliff is shocked to see me on his doorsteps again. His brow is puckered and his faded eyes are suspicious, “look Jake isn’t here.  Last time I saw him he was sleeping with you young lady.”

I blush with embarrassment, then think rapidly.

Where could he be?