Rhyannon Byrd - Waiting For It (2 page)

“And that’s just the first time,” Jake went on, the deep timbre of his voice doing all kinds of warm,  wicked things to places deep inside of her. “After we take the edge off, it’ll only get better. Creaming  for me is gonna becomeTaylor’s favorite pastime. All day and all night, she’ll just come all over me— my fingers, my cock, my face. We’re gonna be swimming in it, Wanda, and your and Mitch’s sorry  asses won’t be crossing our minds even once.”

Okay, she was not going to think about what he’d just said. No way in hell! At least until she got home. Then she’d savor every fantastic word, playing them over and over in her mind while she slipped her fingers between her thighs and struggled for release.

Then he moved closer, andTaylorthought he was finally going to kiss her, but he brushed his thumb across her lips instead. His gaze was transfixed, concentrated, as if he were comparing their shape and texture to a memory.

“So, if you’ll excuse us,” he groaned with a hungry smile, “we’ve got things to do.”

His eyes burned onTaylor, promising to make the outrageous claim a reality. But no—he couldn’t possibly be serious, could he? The “things” they needed to do couldn’t really be each other, could they?  She was just a—well, she was justTaylor, while he looked sexier than a man should ever be allowed.

Who would ever believe the hero and the misfit? She sure as hell couldn’t.

And he’d only gotten better with time. She loved the crinkles at the corners of his gorgeous green eyes.  Loved the grooves that bracketed his sinful mouth. Loved the sun-bronzed gold of his tan and the musky outdoors scent of his skin.

He held out his hand and she took it as if she’d done it a thousand times before, when in reality, this morning was the first time they’d ever even touched.

Jake pulled her along beside him, her groceries and Wanda Merton left behind—forgotten—and

Taylor followed the man of her dreams through the door, out into the brilliant, blinding light of the sun.

Chapter 2

When they reached her Jeep parked at the curb,Taylorturned to face the man who’d been both the bane and blessing of her entire existence.

The sun glinted behind his broad shoulders, backlighting his magnificent body the way she painted her  Faeries and Warlocks. The same slash of a mouth that promised to be ruthless and unforgiving in the pursuit of pleasure. Long, lean muscles that molded the shape of his white T-shirt and worn-out Levi’s.  Tall, tan, and ruggedly—insanely—make-your-pussy-ache-just-to-look-at-him handsome.

And that damn hair. Not short, not long, but just shaggy enough to wrap your fingers in the glossy black locks and take him wherever you needed him. Wherever
she
 
needed him. Her breasts, her stubborn clitoris, and then lower, to where he could sink his tongue inside of her the way she’d always read a man could pleasure a woman, but had never experienced for herself.

God, it was so ironically pathetic. Here she’d spent seven years married to the Westin stud, and she still didn’t have any experience outside of the boring old missionary position. And Wanda was right about the not coming part. A fact Mitch had thrown in her face in defense of why he’d screwed around with half the town.

“If I can’t make you cream,” he’d told her on countless occasions, “no one can, sugar.”

Well,Taylorwasn’t so sure about that. Just looking at Jake Farrell made her feel closer to that elusive O than she ever had before. She wanted to break open the silver belt buckle on the front of his jeans, rip open the buttons of his fly, and sink her hand inside to explore the heavy bulge she’d seen there out of the corner of her eye as they’d walked outside. He wasn’t actually hard yet, just beautifully full, as if he always nicely filled out the front of his pants.

And he did. He always had, even as a young man. Every girl he’d ever dated had said he had the biggest—equipment they’d ever seen. Massive, the rumors had told. Long and thick, and he knew a thousand different ways to make a woman scream with it.

Man oh man oh man
.

Oh no. SuddenlyTaylorrealized just what she was doing. Here she was, standing in front of Mason’s  Groceries—staring at Jake Farrell’s crotch! And God help her, she didn’t know how long her eyes had been glued to that particular part of his anatomy, but it was growing bigger by the second.

Her heartbeat, which was already doing double-time, nearly flew right out of her chest. No, no, no!  This was so incredibly embarrassing. Damn the blasted man and this sex-crazed feeling he’d always made her feel, even when he could’ve been halfway around the world for all she knew.

It was obvious she needed to say something, and she really needed to pull her fascinated stare away from his fly before she started to drool, but her treacherous body parts just weren’t listening to reason.

Jake finally helped by tipping her face up with the side of his fist, forcing her to meet his glittering green gaze. Oh, he knew exactly what she’d been thinking about, she realized with a horrified groan.Taylorknew he could read it written all over her flushed face, as easy as a book.

“You okay, Taylor?”

He wasn’t exactly smiling, but she could hear a hint of humor behind the deep, rough edge of his

voice. Not to mention arousal and concern. His calloused thumb stroked lazily against her chin,

caressing her flesh, the gentle touch unbearably arousing.

What on earth was going on? Jake Farrell back in town, acting like he actually wanted her? Nothing so strange or bizarre or unbelievably wonderful had ever happened in her entire life.

“Uh, yes, thank you. I mean I’m, um, fine.”

And an idiot. I’m a complete, ridiculous, sex-starved idiot!

He nodded, his penetrating gaze seeing straight into her, as if he could find out all her secrets with just a look. “I’m sorry if I got carried away back there, but I couldn’t resist. Is she always like that?”

Taylorknew exactly what he meant, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of Wanda’s

“Bitch of the Year” attitude. It would absolutely kill her to have Jake Farrell pity her.

Pride made her try a small laugh that fell as flat as her chest. “Wanda? Don’t worry about her. This was actually a good day between us. Quite civil really.”

The sensual line of his lips hardened into a grim line, betraying his anger. “You mean it gets worse than that? Why in the hell don’t you deck her and get away from this hole-in-the-wall town?”

Because I might never have seen you again, she thought with a violent rush of longing—and in that moment, she knew it was true. That was why she’d stayed all these years. Why she’d faced down all the loneliness and humiliation and painful memories. She’d been waiting for Jake to come home—to come back to her—afraid that if she left, their paths might never cross again.

Well, once a fool, always a fool, she figured, knowing how this man had always felt about her.

Nothing. That was what he’d always felt. Not a single thing.

But he wasn’t looking like he felt nothing at the moment. No, he looked like he wanted to lay her out on the hood of her car and taste her from head to toe, lingering on all the good parts in between. She couldn’t believe this was Jake. Couldn’t believe he was actually standing before her—the real flesh and blood man—and not some heartbreaking figment of her imagination.

“Well, um, thanks for what you did and all. It was, uh, really nice of you to stick up for me in there.”

He moved closer, just a hairsbreadth away from actually touching her trembling body with his own.

“Is that what I was? Nice?”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a gorgeous little crooked grin, like he was almost embarrassed, and the memory of it nearly floored her. It was the same expression she’d seen him wear back when people would stop him in town and go on and on about his latest success on the high school football field.  Mitch had eaten it up, but Jake had always seemed uncomfortable with the outlandish praise, which had endeared him to her even more.

And, oh man, was he tall. She felt so small next to him—so deliciously feminine. “Well, I, uh, mean it was nice to act like you, um, like you—”

Ugh! She knew she was rambling like a half-wit here, but she couldn’t get the words out.

He moved closer, and this time his crotch nudged into her belly. Wow, she nearly swallowed her tongue. Then his hands went back into her hair, the same way they had inside the store, and her heart nearly stopped at the thought that now he might kiss her.

Yes! Right here! Right now! This very instant, please!

“I wasn’t trying to be nice. I was trying to put that jealous—”

“Jealous? Wanda Merton’s never been jealous a day in her life!”

His fingers tightened, thumbs moving at her temples in a slow, seductive touch that he probably thought would relax her, but had the complete opposite effect, making her want to just crawl all over him like a wild woman. Her hands fisted at her sides to keep from grabbing anything she wasn’t supposed to touch. And damn it—that was probably all of him.

His face lowered, their noses nearly brushing, and from this closeTaylorcould see all the brilliant streaks of light green star-bursting through the darker jade of his eyes. They were so incredibly beautiful. When she got home, she was going to paint them so she wouldn’t forget a single enthralling detail.

“She’s always been jealous of you, Taylor. Just like all the other two-faced women in this town who  hated you for being beautiful and smart and talented. Who hated the way every guy watched your little  fuck-me body every time you walked by. Haven’t you figured it out yet, after all this time? They’re all  spitting with jealousy. All but green with it, honey.”

Jake watched her beautiful eyes go wide with shock at his words, her expression completely disbelieving.

“Jake, what are you talking about?” she laughed, the sound shaky and strained. “Just look at me. It  really was sweet of you to pretend for Wanda’s benefit, but you’re the one who used to tell everybody I  looked like a scrawny runt. Mitch said you didn’t know how he could stomach being seen with me  when we’d go out together.”

Jake laughed too, but it was a dark, rough sound that touched a place deep inside of her—someplace that had never been touched before. “He said all that, did he?”

She nodded, at least as much as she could with his hands holding her head, his thumbs still circling her temples.

“And what if I told you everything he said was a lie,Taylor? Would you believe me? He used to give  me piles of bullshit about you too. About how you thought I was stuck on myself and dumber than shit.  But I’m not buying it anymore, sweetheart. What if I told you everything I said to Wanda was the truth,  and that I’ve spent the last ten years of my life wanting it—craving it?”

His voice lowered, his forehead dropping forward to rest against her own. “What if I told you I’ve

wanted to get inside your pants and fuck you from the second I set eyes on you in school? Hell, you  were barely sixteen when I first saw you, and I still wanted to take you home with me and lay you out  on my bed and shove my face between your legs, just eating you out for hours on end. I never even  thought about doing that to a girl until I met you, Taylor.”

She tried to say something, but all that came out was some sort of hoarse, choked whimper. A small, needy sound of hunger and disbelief. But she wanted to believe. Oh, man, did she ever.

Then he pressed his mouth against her own. Hot and sweet and electric, a sensual assault of textures and tastes, and she knew she was going to die. Right there in the middle ofLincoln Street, in front of  Mason’s Groceries, Taylor Moore was going to die from the rapturous ecstasy of being kissed by Jake  Farrell. The heart stopping moment was going to happen any second now.

His lips molded hers, eating at them, but not pushing inside. Not yet. “You can believe me, Taylor. It’s true,” he whispered hotly against her mouth, unable to get enough of her intoxicating taste. It was the one flavor he’d always hungered for and never found in any other woman.

“Mitch was a lying bastard because he could see how much I wanted you and it drove him crazy,” he  rasped, rubbing his lips against hers, marveling at their silky petal softness. “Nearly as crazy as it drove  me to think of you with him, letting him touch you and kiss you and fuck you the way I wanted—no,  needed to.”

What? “But he didn’t. I mean—I never slept with him until after we were married, Jake. Not till after you were gone.”

His head lifted, hands tightening to hold her in place. “You don’t have to lie to me, Taylor. Mitch told me the two of you screwed like rabbits every chance you got. That you would ride him so hard he couldn’t see straight!”

He looked angry now, and she couldn’t find the air to finish explaining. “But I never slept with him.

Not back then. Not when we were dating.”

His high cheekbones were slashed with color, voice little more than a snarl. “I’m beginning to think there isn’t a damn thing that miserable bastard didn’t lie about.”

Taylorshook her head in a frantic motion, trying to make him understand. She could feel the rage simmering just beneath the hot surface of his skin, his fingers trembling against her face—and everything within her longed to soothe him. She wanted to be the woman to wrap him up in her arms and gentle his anger, but this was neither the time nor place. And no matter how strongly she wished it otherwise, she wasn’t his woman.