The Gunny & The Jazz Singer (Birchwood Falls #1) (19 page)

"Yes. It's been so much fun. I'm
in a revue of jazz through the years. It's been amazing to sing with others."

"But you have solos, don't
you?"

"Of course. Our audiences are
larger and larger every week as the word gets out how good we are. It's so
exciting."

He could hear the enthusiasm in her
voice. "Are you happy here?" He didn't want to take that away from
her, but it was time to put forward his plan.

"Honestly?" She met his
gaze. "I do miss Moira and Davy. But there are some wonderful people in my
company, and we have a lot of fun."

"Do you miss B Falls?"

"Marc, what are you getting
at?"

He turned toward her, cupping her
chin in his hand. "I meant it when I said I wanted to be with you for the
rest of my life." He couldn't believe how hard it was not to kiss her
silly, but he had to convince her without using sex, damn it.

When she didn't respond he
continued, "I have two options for you." He wouldn't kiss her yet,
but he brushed his thumb over her lips, his mouth watering with his need for
her. Her questioning gaze was adorable.

Now that he'd touched her, he
couldn't stop. He slid his hand around her neck and up into her hair.

"I love you, Phoebe. These
last six months have been hell for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was
wondering what you were doing, were you all right, had you met someone else?"
He held his breath and peered into her eyes. "Have you?"

"No." She shook her head,
her eyelids dipping as if looking at his mouth.

Thank
God.
He gave her a crooked smile. "Have you missed me, thought of me?"

She lifted a hand to grip the lapel
of his jacket and nodded.

"Good then. Option one, I'll
move here, get a job, we'll get married, and be together for the rest of our
lives."

Her head shook a slight negative. "What
if I travel?"

"I'll go with you," he
quickly answered.

"Live the nomadic life of an
entertainer? You won't be happy like that."

"If I have you every morning
and night I will. Would you?"

She ignored that question and asked
softly, "What's option two?"

"I'll buy Marietty's, and you
can sing there for the rest of your life."

"Buy it? How? With what?"

His crooked smile returned.
The girl was hooked.
"With the
award from the civil suit I filed against Butch, Harold Wilcox, and the Wilcox
Company. Moira suggested it, and under the circumstances Harold was willing to
settle out of court."

"You want to make Birchwood
Falls your home?"

"It always was. I needed to
come back to find out the truth. I was a happy kid there. It's a good town. A
good place to settle down."

He smiled, and angling her head he
finally kissed her the way he'd been wanting to since he first laid eyes on
her. Sighing into the kiss, his lips caressed hers, sipping gently at first.
Her hand slid up to his neck and encouraged him as she opened her lips and
slipped her tongue inside his mouth.

That was all he needed to turn the
kiss incendiary, pulling her tightly against him with one arm, the other hand
cupping her head. His cock hardened, aching for her sweetness. He wanted her
naked and under him in a real bed.

"I've been dreaming of this
for so long. Take me back to your place. Let me make love to you the way you
deserve," he murmured. "I love you no matter which option you decide.
Just take me home before my cock explodes right here in this park."

She withdrew slightly to gaze into
his eyes.

"Even if it's neither, I'll
still love you. "
Jesus, you sound
pathetic.
"But marriage is on the table."

Marc.
She'd been dreaming and fantasizing about him all this time. Thank God he'd
come back from the Middle East alive. And he was here right in front of her
offering her what she'd never thought to have.

"Where do you live?" His
voice growled in desperation.

"We need a cab." She felt
a bit desperate herself and swiftly raised her arm to hail one when they
reached the street.

In the taxi he drew her into his
arms and kissed her as if he couldn't let go. That was his mistake. Once he
started touching her again, she didn't want him to stop. Making it up the three
flights of stairs to her walk-up was done in record time. Once inside the door,
he slammed it closed with his foot.

"The bed," he demanded. "Where?"
He went back to kissing her.

She broke the kiss and grabbed his
hand, pulling him toward the bedroom.

He smiled as he gazed at her bed. "Yeah.
Big enough." He peeled her out of her coat and sweater. "Your
beautiful breasts." He cupped the decorated one and flipped the ring up
and down with his big thumb.

"God, yes," she sighed at
his smooth touch combined with the slight twinge of pain from the pull of the
ring.

Soon he was naked, she was flat on
the bed, and he was nudging her breasts with his nose. Slipping the tip of his
tongue into the ring, he groaned when he latched on to her nipple and suckled.

Her back arched into him as her
fingers tunneled through his short hair, palms cupping his head closer. He
switched breasts, his tongue circling and swirling, his teeth nipping and
gently rocking her hard nipples until she begged him for more.

She wanted
him
though. Wanted his cock in her mouth. Yearned to feel her lips
around the hot, hard length of him.

"Lie down," she ordered.

"Huh?"

She gave him a little push, her
palm to his pecs as she knelt up over his hips, pushing her hair over one
shoulder to get it out of the way.

"Oh."

"Yeah." She smirked and
wiggled her eyebrows. Then she shifted her gaze to his cock. It swelled and
throbbed before her eyes and seeped come from the delicate little hole at the
top.

Her cheeks went hot when she
stroked both hands up the shaft from the base to the tip. She reveled in his
gasp and the ruddy streaks of arousal across his cheekbones. Smiling, she
caressed the thick vein on the underside of his penis, massaging it upward as
her thumb gently grazed it. Her other hand, cupped over the moist tip, brushed
and moistened the velvet softness. He grew harder, his slit wept until his
whole cock was coated in the milky fluid.

She moaned at her own ache and the
release of juices from her needy body, her inner muscles throbbing and
clenching in her immense desire. She was wet, he was wet and hot and hard.

Delicately licking the tip, she
closed her eyes, and sucked him like the proverbial ice cream cone, swirling
round and round until her mouth closed over him as deep as she could get.

Jesus.
He was so big, and she couldn't reach the root. So she wrapped her palm tightly
around him, rubbing up and down to meet her lips, letting her saliva lubricate
his length.

He groaned, threading his fingers
through her hair.

One big palm smoothed down her
bottom to curve around her mound. His fingers separated her folds and circled
her clit. Then coated with her flooding juices, two slid inside her—deep
inside, pumping, getting her ready. Oh, she was ready. She shifted restlessly,
moaning deeply.

"Phoebe, I really need you."
Rearing up, this time he pushed her onto her back and nudged her thighs farther
apart with his knees. "I've got condoms. Oh God, wait a minute." He
started to move off the bed to get his jeans.

"Bedside table," she
panted.

Jerking open the drawer, he grabbed
several out of the box, and tossed them on the bed. "Why do you have so
many? Fuck, I don't care. I'm just glad you have them." After donning a
condom, he settled his cock at her entrance.

Her hips automatically thrust to
take him in, to envelop his shaft. She lifted her gaze from where they were
joined to see him gazing back in diabolical glee. He knew he was torturing her.
And himself. He closed his eyes and smiled as he circled his hips, surging in
and out in short, sharp strokes.

"Marc, just do it. I can't
take any more. No more playing. It's been too long."

He plowed into her, all the way in
until his wiry pubic hairs were against her clit.

"Yes, yes," she cried.

He pulled out—not all the way but
just until the mouth of her vagina kissed the tip of his cock. Then he plunged
back in, repeating the process until his hips pistoned into and out of her at
warp speed.

She lifted to meet his every
thrust. The sounds of their panting, the wet sounds of their fucking, ratcheted
her up until she felt the force of his ejaculation which triggered her orgasm.
She came with a shout. Her hips shuddered, her vaginal walls pulsed like little
electrical charges exploding, muscles clutching and releasing in an endless
ride. Then she slumped, burying her face against his shoulder.

He rolled to her side and removed
the condom, wrapping it in a tissue. Holding her securely, he murmured, "Honey,
I'm sorry. I didn't want to go so fast."

She couldn't talk, keeping her eyes
closed to savor the quivering of her body inside and over her skin.

"Honey?" He chuckled then
sobered. "Are you okay? Was I too hard on you?"

"Huh? No, no."

He nudged her breasts with his
nose, shaping one mound with his palm, urging the tip to his lips. With a groan
that turned into a deep growl in his throat, he latched on and suckled.

Her back arched, her palms cupping
his head closer. He switched breasts. It was perfect. His tongue circled and
swirled. He nipped gently and rocked her hard nipples until she pleaded for
more.

"I wanted to take my time,
seduce you. Kiss every inch of your body. I didn't want our first, after all
this time, to be such a clumsy affair. But making you come like that…" He
pressed his face into her hair. "My God."

He tipped up her chin and smoothed
his lips over hers.

She took the melting kiss and
turned it back on him. Pressing her palms on his chest, she pushed him onto his
back. "I'm kind of glad to see you too," she purred as she settled
astride him, sitting back on his thighs.

Gazing down at the dark mat of hair
on his pecs, down to his thick black thatch cradling a cock already rising to
attention, she traced the narrow trail of hair up his flat belly, around his
bellybutton, up onto his chest. "God, you're beautiful," she cooed.

He wrapped his fingers around her
waist. "No, you are."

Rising up on her knees, she watched
his expression, watched his eyes glaze. "No," she whispered
playfully. "You are. And still hard. Or hard again?" She smoothed
another condom down and took him inside of her, slowly sliding down on his big,
smooth tip. "It's wonderful having all of you buck-naked and in my bed. It's
been a long wait." She swayed her hips and tightened her interior muscles
to stroke his shaft.

"Yes," he groaned. "Like
that." He nudged into her again.

She felt the head of his cock
butting against her womb, he was in so deeply.

"Do it again," he
commanded, his eyes closed.

She loved the look of lazy
satisfaction on his face. Her lips quirking, she whispered, "Okay."
She moved up and down, circling and consuming him.

His thick sex burnished the nerve
endings in her passage. Her head lolled back with the pleasure. They weren't
frenzied this time. His eyes remained squeezed tightly shut until suddenly he
stared directly at her, his expression intent. Then he came in another
white-hot rush.

The sensation of his cock throbbing
its release and the deluge of his hot semen inside her brought her over the
edge. Her cry pierced the quiet, and she collapsed onto his chest, her nose
pressed against his neck, the fullness of his glorious erection buried deeply
inside her.

He drew her into his arms, covered
her back with open palms, rubbing them slowly up and down her spine.
Disengaging, he rolled to her side holding her against him. "Phoebe,
honey, I missed you so much."

"I noticed that," she
cooed, brushing his throat with her lips.

"I meant what I said about
coming home with me."

"Marc, everyone would think I
was with you just for the club. For your money."

"Are you kidding? Don't you
know how much everyone in town loves you and your talent? You have more friends
there than I bet you do here."

Torn
between wanting a successful career and…

"I understand your love of
performing, and you are an amazing singer, but can't you have success in B
Falls, sing to your heart's content, and have your friends and me in your life?"

She didn't respond right away and
then rolled over to get out of bed. Glancing over her shoulder, she lost her
breath at the sight of his long, muscular body. He lay with one arm at his
side, the other bent up, head resting on his hand.

Would she be settling for the easy
way or making the best decision of her life?

"Phoebe, I have plans. I want
to re-open Marietty's. I want to restore my house. And I want to spend the rest
of my life married to you. So that's my offer. It's open-ended. You don't have
to decide right this minute but don't think I'm being too complacent about it.
I want you more than I've ever wanted another woman."

Those light-blue eyes of his had
deepened in color as he studied her. She knew he meant everything he'd said.

She wanted him right back.

Her search for success came from
the first ten lonely years of her life. Her adoptive parents had filled every
hole in her heart with love and lessons. They'd recognized her talent and
needs. Hadn't they taught her she had value just by being? They'd tried to make
up for the early years, and she was so thankful for their support.

Her friends Moira and Davy gave her
the same kind of love and support. And now Marc was in her life. Could she
accept the love he offered? Oh, she wanted to.