Return to the Black Hills (19 page)

“It was a kids’ movie,” he said, his tone genuinely perplexed. “Nobody is supposed to cry in kids’ movies.”

She’d been incredibly touched when she spotted him brushing away a tear at one point in the movie. Touched and a little envious. “Somebody told me modern production companies realize they can’t make enough on ticket sales to kids alone, so they layer in subliminal story lines for adults. Humor that an eight-year-old misses makes you and me laugh out loud.”

He nodded.

“Same with the heart-tugging stuff. There’s always some aspect of the script that gets you. Right here,” she said, tapping the center of his chest.

“Is that a slam?” His eyes were narrowed but she could tell he wasn’t any more serious than she was. She felt relaxed. And strangely content.

“No. It was a joke. Remy always cries in G-rated movies, too.”

“But not you.”

She cried. On the inside. And in a darkened theater she didn’t have to worry about her feelings showing on her face. The rest of the time she had to be strong—for Mama’s sake.

Weird. Where did that thought come from?

“Are you okay? Seriously. You still look a little blue.”

“No, I’m good. Let’s go home.”

Home?
That didn’t sound right, but she decided not to correct herself. The ranch was
his
home. And hers…for the moment. And even while she’d enjoyed the escapism of the movie, she’d spent a good portion of the time worrying that Zane had found his way past the guards, dismantled the alarm with some techno-gadget lifted from some recently filmed spy movie, and was now lying in wait.

It was pitch-black by the time they got home. Watching Cade get out of the truck to talk to the guard at the gate made her feel safer than she’d ever felt in her life. She didn’t understand the feeling, given the uncertainty of their current situation, but she liked it. She also liked Cade. A lot.

Liar.

The voice—hers? Or her sister’s? She couldn’t be sure—did not lie. What she was feeling was a whole lot more than
like.
There was a good chance she was in love with him, but how could she know for sure? Her mother’s problematic, convoluted love life was at least three chapters short of a romance novel, according to Remy.
What chance do I have of getting this right?

And her mother wasn’t the only one who never seemed to pick the right guy. Bing was on hubby number two. Bossy had been married forever to the same guy but, according to Remy, he strayed and she stayed. No one could figure out why. Rita had so many kids she couldn’t leave her husband. They seemed to have an okay life, but was that love? Jessie simply didn’t know.

Even poor Remy, who believed in love wholeheartedly, couldn’t be considered a poster child for that elusive destination known as Happily Ever After. The boy she’d loved with all her heart had been lost to her forever thanks to their mother’s careless ways. Love was scarier than any stunt Jessie had ever tried.

If what she felt for Cade was love, it didn’t match any of the goofy descriptions her sisters used to describe the word. It sure as hell didn’t originate in her heart; it seemed to come from deep in her bones and grow in intensity the more she was with him.

Yes, she liked the person he was—strong, genuine and focused on what counted most. Family. Integrity. But
like
was the pretty words on the outside of a greeting card.
Love
was the juicy, heartfelt, handwritten scribbles on the inside.
Real. Kind. Fearless. Heroic. Good. Humble.

He embodied all those things and she was starting to realize those were things she’d always secretly craved but had been too afraid to acknowledge as possible to find in a mate.

“No sign of trouble,” he said, getting into the truck. “We checked in with the other sentries and they all said the same thing. Maybe Zane decided to sit this one out.”

“I hope so, for everyone’s sake. I really feel stupid about bringing all this drama and expense into your life. I’ll pay you back.”

He didn’t speak until he pulled to a stop at the end of the driveway and he’d turned off the engine. Then he turned to loop one arm across the back of the seat and face her. The motion-sensor light above the garage doors had come on, but for some reason he’d decided not to park the truck inside.

“Let’s get something clear,” he said. “This is my fight, too. This asshole brought his agenda to me and mine. My home. My employees. My daughter. And my woman.”

“I’m your woman?” She tried to laugh. “That’s a bit old-fashioned. Or should I say Old West?”

He shrugged. “You can say anything you want. I won’t apologize for being politically incorrect. You’re a woman in my life who I care about a great deal.” He paused. “Oh, hell, I might as well put this out there. I love you, Jessie Bouchard. I’m sorry if that freaks you out or scares you away and you split tomorrow, but I—”

She cut him off midsentence by throwing herself into his arms, her lips pressed to his. The kiss started out messy and awkward because she’d forgotten to undo her seat belt, but only for a second—until he reached between them and released the latch. Then his arms closed around her and he pulled her tight against his chest. They both were breathing hard—as if they’d been racing from opposite ends of a football field to meet at the fifty-yard line.

“This is new territory for me. I feel like I’m in the middle of a dangerous stunt with no script and no net. I don’t know how I got here and I don’t know what will happen next, but…”

His low, sexy chuckle made a zing of desire trip-wire through her body. “I can answer that. I know what, when and where.”

“You do?”

He opened the door and got out. She didn’t want to be separated from him even for the amount of time and space it would take for him to walk around the truck, so she climbed over the console and slid across his seat to drop to her feet beside him. “What?”

He kissed her again, one hand pressing against her low back. There was no missing his arousal. “This.”

“When?”

He scooped her into his arms and closed the door with his heel. “Now.”

So much for me hating to be carried,
she thought, using the proximity to outline his ear with her tongue. “Now is good.”

They entered the house through the side door. He set her down when the alarm system started beeping but lingered long enough to kiss her—hard, wet and full of promise.

He quickly punched in the code then turned to her. “Where were we? Oh, yes.” He dipped down to pick her up but she stopped him with a hand pressed flat against his chest.

“You lead. I’ll follow. I’d rather you saved your strength for what I have in mind.”

He grabbed her hand and led the way through the kitchen to the stairs, pausing so Jessie could hang up her backpack on a hook by the door. As they climbed the stairs, Jessie inhaled deeply, tasting each and every scent as a confirmation that she was home. Truly home.

He paused at the tops of stairs to kiss her again. “This isn’t going to be like the last time, Jessie. No hiding out in the dark. There will be lights. Candles at the very least.”

She lifted her chin, determined not to show fear. “I’m okay with lights, but no candles.”

His expression turned pained. “Sorry. That was—”

She put her finger to his lips. “Candles are distracting. You have to remember to blow them out. I want to focus completely on us. Nothing else. No past. No crazy lunatics. No worries.”

She hoped. Perfection was something to strive for, right?

His smile was all Cade. It lit up his vibrant blue eyes and made her heart expand in a way she’d never felt before. “Okay.” He turned toward the master bedroom but stopped. “Oh. And there will be a bed. Did I mention that?”

She laughed. “I like beds. So, stop talking. Let’s do this.”

“First one naked gets to pick the position,” she said, slipping under his arm like a minnow the moment he opened the door to his room.

He stood, arms akimbo, shaking his head. “Are you always competitive in everything you do?”

She wiggled out of her shorts and kicked them aside. “Always.” Next, she stripped off her shirt. Facing him in her bra and panties, she put her hands on her hips, too. “Does that scare you?”

He let out a hoot and starting pulled off his clothes—to hell with the buttons. “Petrified. Wanna feel?”

She let out a squeal and sprang to the bed like a gazelle—or a gymnast. But after a couple of uneven bounces, she dropped to her knees. Somehow she managed to lose her underwear in the process, making him the half-dressed loser. But Cade could honestly say he’d never felt more like a winner.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, shaking his hands so his shirt fell to the floor. He peeled off his jockey shorts and joined her on the bed, on his knees, too. Two supplicants praying for the same thing, he hoped.

He didn’t kiss her right away. Instead, he ran his nose across the top of her shoulder, making a slight detour toward her chest. Her breasts were small and firm. They fit her frame perfectly, and her hard-as-pebbles nipples let him know her body was ready to be touched, tongued and pleased.

Her hands gripped his shoulders for balance and leverage as he moved from one breast to the other. Her knees were parted to give her greater balance, and he felt her hips move in a grinding motion when he put his lips around one nipple and sucked.

“Oh, nice,” she said with a low, breathless groan. “You’re the devil incarnate.”

He looked up. “It’s hard to suck and laugh.”

“But not impossible.” She gave him an impish wink. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

She scooted back, her lips and tongue mapping a downward course. By the time she got to his groin, his thighs were quivering with anticipation. He sank back, toes tucked under him.

She rubbed her cheek and chin across his penis until he thought he might explode, then she took him into her mouth. His brain couldn’t catalog all the sensations bursting across the plain of his mind, so he stopped thinking and simply experienced a turn-on that was turning him inside out.

“If I’m the devil,” he panted, struggling for control, “what does this make you? A witch? Because you…I…wait…no…ah…” He stopped speaking because he needed every ounce of self-control and focus to ease away from the brink.

“Come with me, Cade. Now.”

He didn’t answer with words, but he gave her what she asked for—and more. “We have all night, remember?” he said in a throaty whisper as he arranged the big, puffy pillows the way he wanted them. Then he helped her recline like some sort of film noir siren.

All the better to watch, she realized, as he copied her maneuver, his tongue and lips blazing a trail downward. He paused to toy with her belly button before exploring her nicely trimmed triangle of curls. Waxing wasn’t a conceit when you routinely had your photo taken while playing volleyball on the beach, right?

His hand felt heavy, possessive. A part of her knew that this was more than sex. If she let this—made this—happen, she would truly be his woman. That knowledge added to the excitement, she had to admit.

His fingers parted her curls and he nuzzled a path to the place she couldn’t wait for him to touch. Everything about this day—the good and the bad—seemed to culminate in an emotional eddy, pulling her through the mists to a place she’d never visited before. Trusting Cade as her guide freed her to feel things she’d never let herself feel before. The word
orgasm
simply didn’t cover the quaking vibrations that ripped through her thighs, converging on her inner core. She grabbed for the light—the taste of pleasure that had never tasted so sweet. And when it came, she gave herself over to the feeling with complete and uninhibited abandon. “Oh, oh,
O. M. G.
,” she panted, a puffing pause between each letter.

Cade looked satisfied until he got to his knees and moved toward her. His fully aroused anatomy made her realize the fun was only beginning. “Dessert!” she exclaimed, making a keep-it-coming motion with her hands.

“The main course, sweetheart.”

She didn’t care what it was called. Her body was primed and ready, as she proved when he entered her.
Completion.
That was the word she’d been looking for—maybe her whole life—and never found. Until now. “Perfect,” she whispered, her hands on his shoulders.

She saw the look of pleasure on his face change to one of need. She wrapped her legs around him, forgetting that her ankle was not a hundred percent. The sharp bite of pain distracted her for a moment, but the coursing sensations she’d experienced a few minutes earlier returned, blocking all thoughts of pain and pretty much everything else. All that mattered was Cade and finding that wonderful, perfect release.