Sweetwater: The Kihn (The Sweet Series) (35 page)

“Let go, sweet,” he rasps hoarsely.

I wish I knew how!
I don’t think I can take much more. I explode around him, screaming his name as I come. He groans loudly as he finds his release with one more thrust, emptying himself deep inside of me.

I continue to grip the bar, and his arm holds me up around the waist while his other arm braces against the shower wall. Still buried deep inside of me, he leans over my back, growling in my ear. “Shit, Sofie!”
My sentiments exactly!
I wince as he pulls out. I’m still trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

He pulls me up, my back against his front, as he stands. “How was that?” His voice rasps against my ear, dark and sexy.

I lean against him, glad he’s holding me up. “It was good,” I tell him softly.

“Only good?” he growls as he scoops me up and steps out of the shower. I grab his shoulders as he reaches for my robe.

My gaze meets his. “Well, I’m sure it was probably the best sex anyone has ever had, but since I don’t really know for sure, I’ll say it was the best I’ve ever had.”

He grins at me. I lean my head against his chest as he carries me to the bedroom. I’ve always believed I’m in good shape since I exercise often, but he’s showing me what a wimp I am. All I want to do is lie down and take a nap. He’s in incredible shape though, and I admire his strength as he carries me to the bed.

He wraps my robe around me and leaves me sitting on the bed as he dons his. He has me sit between his legs while he towel dries my hair. His strong fingers comb through the damp strands. This is so intimate. No man has ever combed my hair. Of course, it’s not as intimate as what we just did in the shower, but it’s still very personal.

I have an unsettling thought, and I’m embarrassed at the realization we had unprotected sex again.
Crap!
What’s wrong with me?
I’ve always been the sensible one.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“A little.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

His hands still in my hair. “Well, let’s go get you some breakfast—I cook a mean egg.”

After I’ve eaten, with Lucas watching, we sit quietly and drink our coffee.

“Sofie,” he says lightly, “I want you to tell me what is bothering you.”

I peek up and meet his gaze. I decide to stop suffering in silence and just say it. “We didn’t use any protection,” I say so softly, it’s barely audible.

His gaze locks on mine. I notice a sudden unease in his expression and then he looks away. I frown as I ponder his reaction. The silence expands between us and I realize I’m holding my breath. Movement outside the window catches my eye, and I see a couple of the Guard, Andy and Patrick, stomping through the snow toward the house.

“I cannot get you pregnant, Sofie.” My gaze flashes back to his.
What?
“I’m sterile.”

“Oh.” That’s all I say. I’m completely caught off guard by his answer. I search his face, unsure of
what
to say. What must that mean to a man like Lucas?

“As for disease, I have a clean bill of health. I can get that for you from Lewis.” He watches me.

I swallow. “Okay.”

He smirks. “Well, we know you’re clean, don’t we?” I quickly look down, and he chuckles.

Okay, so no diseases. But the other is pretty surprising. “I am so sorry, Lucas.” That’s all I manage to say before I hear the back door open. I see something in his expression that indicates he wants to say more, but he turns to greet his men.

The next few days are wonderful.

The storm has left this part of the Ozarks with more snow than we know what to do with. The below-zero temperatures and the abundance of white, fluffy snow pretty much halt most routines. Businesses and schools close because the roads are impassable where they dip down into hollers. People stay put, enjoying the halt of our busy, modern world. Of course, most people around Sweetwater have livestock to care for, and Lucas’ men are an enormous help. They seem to enjoy interacting with the community.

Patrols continue around the town’s perimeter and some of the outlying areas. More and more of the local men become involved, but the patrols still mostly consist of the Guard. The Kihn remain quiet. Lucas and Taylor assure me this is to be expected, since they can be tracked in the snow.

Lucas and I spend a lot of our time telling each other about our lives.

Somewhat.

I tell him everything about growing up in Sweetwater. I don’t tell him about my parents not wanting me, nor about the Kihn in my dreams, which includes not telling him anything about Harvey. I mean, how do I tell him about Harvey?

I know he’s aware that what I relate to him is missing vital information. So I can’t complain when I ask questions about his life and he doesn’t tell me everything. His inability to father children doesn’t come up again either. I hate to bring up something that must be hard for him. I can’t help but wonder if he had an illness or injury that brought about his condition. Maybe in time he will talk about it.

We play chess in the evenings and sometimes poker with the Guard. We join the daily training sessions, and Lucas shows me around the compound. He also teaches me how to please him. He is very knowledgeable of a woman’s body. He knows just how to touch me to have me sighing with pleasure and yearning for more. I crave his touch and his kisses, which alternate between scorching, heart-pounding passion and gentle, sweet possession.

He lets me know that he desires my body and my responses to his passion. And do I
ever
respond to him. We can be in a room full of his men, and if I see him watching me with desire, a heat comes over me and settles in my lower extremities with a suddenness that often leaves me dizzy and lightheaded.

When I tell him he needs to stop, he laughs, pulls me into his arms, and vows to never stop making me want him. But he doesn’t have to worry. I will
never
stop wanting Lucas Santiago.

Diane, Emma Rae, and I call and text each other throughout the day. I get to see Jake, Sawyer, and Sam when they come for training and sometimes for poker in the evenings. My Aunt Jordy and Lucy have called a couple of times. I think Jordy suspects something.

On Thursday, the fourth day into the Snowpocalypse, Lucas takes me out to the stables. We’re going for a ride with a couple of his Guard. Through the woods, the snow is not as deep as out in the open, except for drifts where it’s up to the horses’ bellies, so we let them pick their way. Wolf follows along in the tracks the horses make, leaping and bounding. He seems to love this weather.

We ride down to the river, where the snow is not as deep, and follow it a ways as his men go in the opposite direction. Wolf races off, leaving us alone. It’s beautiful in the woods with the white snow glistening under the sun and the darkness of the starkly bare tree limbs peeping through.

Lucas reels his horse in and dismounts. My breath catches watching this beautiful man stride toward me. He reaches up and lifts me off my horse. “I think you need to ride with me.”

“Really? Why is that?” I look up into his eyes and smile shyly at him.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about sticking my hand down the front of your pants.”

I gasp, and my face heats with my embarrassment. He laughs wickedly and pulls me into a knee-knocking kiss. When he lets me come up for air, he pushes me against a tree trunk. He quickly unbuttons my coat and my blouse.

“Lucas—” I glance nervously around. His men could come upon us at any time.

“Relax.” He gives me a dark, sexy grin. “They’ve gone back to the house.” He bends his head and latches onto my nipple through my bra. I grab his arms, arching my back, and moan softly. The bra is made of a sheer material, and he sucks and wets the fabric. I inhale sharply as the cold air hits my nipple through the wetness. Lucas takes my mouth in a long, drugging kiss and he tortures me with his fingers, twisting and pinching each nipple. I’m whimpering by the time he breaks the kiss.

“If it weren’t so cold, I’d take you right here,” he growls in my ear as he pushes his body against mine. I almost groan with my need for him to do just that. He sets my clothes to right, picks me up, sets me on top of his horse, and mounts behind me.

“What about my horse?” I ask, looking back.

“He’ll follow us. Lean forward.”
What?
“Forward, Sofie.” He pushes gently on my back. As I lean over the saddle horn, he runs his hand into the back of my jeans, startling me.

“Lucas!”

He pulls me back and wraps his arm around my waist. “Undo your jeans.” When I hesitate, he growls in my ear, “Now, my sweet.”

With my jeans undone, he works his hand down and orders me to lean forward and then back. I am now sitting on his hand, and he rubs and flexes his fingers on my most sensitive area. I groan and lean back against his front.

“You said the front of my pants,” I whimper as he rubs my sensitive nub.

“I think this serves the purpose, don’t you?” He impales me with one of his fingers. I cry out softly. “Don’t you?” He moves his finger widely around inside of me.

“Yes!” I gasp and try to lean forward, but his arm holds me in place.

“You feel so good, Sofie,” he rasps as a second finger enters me. I moan loudly and arch my back, pressing against him. He works them further inside me, and I cry out hoarsely. Sitting on his hand with his fingers piercing me is almost unbearable.

“This is fun, don’t you think?” His voice rumbles in my ear. Surely he doesn’t expect me to answer? I’m incapable of thinking at the moment. I pant, gripping his strong thighs on either side of mine. I press my head against his shoulder and arch my back slightly. “Hmmm?” he questions again as he flexes his fingers.

“Yes!” I practically scream, and then I’m mewling with my need for release. “Please,” I whimper as I quiver in his arms.

“Oh, Sofie, the things I want to do to you,” he whispers hoarsely in my ear. I want to scream
, do them!
He reaches under my coat and grasps my breast, squeezing firmly before pinching my nipple hard. He pushes me forward until I’m leaning over the saddle horn and he twists his fingers, pressing and rubbing against that sensitive spot until I explode. He immediately leans over me and latches onto the back of my neck, sucking forcefully before he bites me. I cry out hoarsely as my orgasm racks my body.

Lucas’ horse carries us back to the stables as he holds me against his chest with his arms wrapped firmly around me. He kisses the top of my head, and I hear him inhale deeply. “You smell sweeter after I’ve made you come,” he growls in my ear. I feel my face heat. “I just might have my way with you when we get back.”

“I think you’ve been having your way with me the last few days,” I say tartly.

He laughs softly. “Oh sweet, this is just the beginning.”
Oh!
My body trembles slightly in reaction to his words. Tightening his embrace, he kisses my neck.

We ride the horses around to the back of the stables and through the open doors. Lucas dismounts and reaches up to lift me down. He lets my body slide down his, holding my gaze.

“Lucas?” We both look back toward the door at the woman standing there. She’s beautiful. Tall, slim with long, dark hair, and large blue eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she says softly. “Who is this?”

“Lizbeth,” Lucas says, in recognition. He turns and gives me a tight smile. “You go on to the house.”
Is he serious?
I give him a long blink. I know my face clearly shows my disbelief. “Go,” he says firmly. “I need to speak with Lizbeth.”

“Lucas?” Her blue eyes are round and wide with question. “Who is this?” Her voice sounds foreign with a hint of an accent.

I swallow convulsively and turn to leave. I’m pissed. Maybe I shouldn’t leap to conclusions, but I can tell this is no casual acquaintance.

“Yes, you need to leave,” she flings at me as I pass by to get to the door.

“Lizbeth!” Lucas says sharply.

She looks down quickly, contrite, but she comments softly, “He is my lover and has been for several years.”

I pause long enough to see Lucas grab her arm and lead her away. I can’t get out of the barn fast enough. Once I’m out the door, I run for the house and straight to the bedroom. I lock myself in the bathroom, sit on the closed toilet lid feeling sick, and bite my lip until I taste blood. I’m shaking, and I know I’m going to cry if I don’t do something. I shrug out of my coat and splash cold water on my face repeatedly.

I’ve known all along he’s hiding something from me. And—here she is. One lone sob escapes and the sound echoes around the room. I
will
not cry. No, I will not cry, but I do want to sit in the corner and howl. I have to get out of here. I head for the closet in search of my suitcase.

Why does he feel the need to speak with her in private? Why couldn’t he tell her he’s with me while I was there? Maybe he’s still involved with her and wants to smooth things over. They might be having sex right now, I realize, and close my eyes against the image of him touching her the way he just touched me.
Why did he send me away instead of her?
I wrap my arms around my body, trying to protect myself from the pain of rejection.

I’m stuffing my clothes in my suitcase when Lucas enters the bedroom. He stands and watches me for a moment. “You are not leaving,” he says with deadly calm.

“Watch me.”

“I understand that you’re upset, but you are
not
leaving,” he repeats with more emotion.

“You can’t make me stay here.”

“The hell I can’t!”

I finally look at him, knowing he’ll see the tears in my eyes. I draw a long, anguished breath. “I want to go home,” I murmur, looking away.

When he doesn’t say anything, I glance back. His handsome face is hard with anger. “
This
is your home,” he says through gritted teeth, and I see a muscle jerk along his jaw line.

I lick my dry lips. “Is she your girlfriend?” I ask, in a weak voice.

“She has
never
been my girlfriend.”

I remember the words she used. “Your lover,” I state in an anguished whisper.

He watches me intently. I hold my breath, waiting for his answer. “Yes.” I close my eyes and a tear rolls down my cheek. I swipe it away. “But not since I was here in November.” He pauses, letting me think about what he’s saying. “Since I first saw you, there has been no one else. I broke it off with Lizbeth. I have not seen or spoken to her since—until today.”

I want to believe him, but I’ve known all along he’s keeping something from me. “Your mistress.”

“No. I’ve never kept a mistress.”

“What am I?”

“Sofie,” he laughs harshly, “you sure as hell are not my mistress.”

His words don’t make me feel any better, if anything, I feel worse when he doesn’t say anything else. I wrap my arms around my middle, trying to stop my shaking. My stomach tightens into a hard knot, and I lower my gaze to the floor. A pounding on the front door makes me flinch.

“You’d better go answer that,” I tell him.

He stands in silence, watching me. “Do not leave this house,” he orders in a hard voice. As the pounding increases, he strides from the bedroom.

I close the door, move the suitcase off the bed, and crawl onto the mattress. Lying down, I pull the throw over me. Am I a fool wanting to believe someone like Lucas Santiago could be satisfied with only me? Now that I’m aware of his sexual appetite—the man is insatiable—I have reason to wonder. I roll onto my back and look at the ceiling. I
am
a fool. I draw a long, shuddering breath and close my eyes. The old hurts are never far below the surface.