Various States of Undress (17 page)

He gathered her closer and she sighed, relaxing against him. Even though the snow was almost hip deep in places, he never stumbled, and as they rounded the cabin and approached the front porch steps, she closed her eyes, wistful, not wanting the moment to end.

Was it wrong that she savored being rescued by him, even knowing that he was hurt?

Yes, it’s sick. What’s wrong with you?

The voice in her head was right. She shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. She tried to lift her head, but he pushed it back down.

“You’re in deep shit,” he said, his voice rumbling against her ear.

She wiggled an arm loose to slide it around his warm back and hugged him to her. “No thanks. That sounds awfully smelly. I’m perfectly content in deep snow.”

“Regardless,” he countered gruffly, but there was a thread of amusement in his tone.

He carried her easily up the steps—as if she weighed nothing at all. She hadn’t been lying, she
was
perfectly content . . . and safe. Bliss. She hugged him tighter, practically gluing herself to his body, as if doing so would suspend the moment in time. It didn’t, because the faster he walked, the more anxious she felt. It had nothing to do with the probability of him reading her the riot act, either. It had everything to do with the fact that their time together was almost over. No matter how close they were physically, she knew instinctively that he would pull away from her. And then he would be gone.

“Jake,” she whispered as he ascended the porch steps.

He paused by the front door and let his hand fall away from the back of her head. “Yeah?”

“Don’t go inside.”

“What? Why?” He looked at her, concerned. “How hard did you hit your head?”

“It’s not that.”

“Well, then what is it?”

She gazed up at him, unable to make her lips move. What was she supposed to say?
Even though I’ve only truly known you for a week, you, Jake, are my fantasy come true? You, Jake, are my rock? I’d seriously rather risk frostbite than let this moment end?

He stared at her a moment and his mouth opened. His expression softened and for a brief, hopeful moment, she thought he might acknowledge the thoughts that had just raced through her mind, the thoughts that surely were written all over her face, scraped cheek notwithstanding. She waited—not breathing. A few seconds later he gave her a quick smile and shifted her in his arms to open the door. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as he stepped onto the tile and keyed in the alarm code.

He stomped his feet and carried her to the sofa, removed her coat and laid her down carefully. He shrugged off his coat and stood there, his chest rising and falling, his shirt ripped and dotted with blood. Without a word, he knelt suddenly and shoved the coffee table out of the way.

As she lay there, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes, he felt her limbs. Ran hands over her belly. Lifted her chin and examined her neck. His touch was clinical, but it heated her just the same. She glanced at him, noticing that his jaw was tight, the only clue that he felt something—anything.

Finally he touched her cheek again, which for the first time, actually hurt. She winced and drew back, but he held her chin firmly. At last he looked into her eyes, reached out with a thumb and gently wiped tears away.

“I don’t think it’s your cheek that’s making you cry.” Lifting her legs to the side, he sat down next to her. “So what is it?” His voice was placating. He didn’t get it—or if he did, he wasn’t going to acknowledge his own feelings.

Her throat constricted, and she shook her head, not daring to speak.

“Come on,” he prodded. His sweet eyes lit up with a sympathetic smile.

A fresh flood of tears welled up in her eyes and she let out a ragged breath. “Aren’t you going to yell at me for disappearing?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“You were just a minute ago.”

“Carolina . . . there’s no point in yelling at you.” He smiled and squeezed her knee. “I’m just doing my job.”

She smiled back at him sadly, and the words tumbled out of her mouth. “Please tell me it’s not over, Jake.”

He didn’t answer.

Nodding, she sat up and dropped her gaze to his shirt. Gently, she lifted it and dipped her head to examine the scrape on his side. It wasn’t bad, but needed to be cleaned. Without a word, she walked to the kitchen for the first aid kit in a bottom drawer, brought it back and flipped it open on the coffee table.

Jake didn’t speak as she cleaned the scrape and applied antibacterial ointment to his skin. When she was finished, he did the same for her cheek, his hands steady and gentle. She watched his face as he worked, memorizing the concentrated set of his jaw, the way the warm firelight in the room highlighted the stubble on his cheeks, the strong curve of his lower lip. She wanted to sigh. She didn’t.

When he was finished, he snapped the lid of the first aid kit closed and fisted his hands on his thighs, staring across at the fire.

“Carolina.”

“Yes.”

“It’s not over, honey.”

She let out a long sigh then, and reached for him.

Chapter Eleven

J
AKE PRESSED HER
into the sofa cushions, his hungry mouth finding hers. His chest still ached from witnessing her tears, and he wanted to melt them away—melt all of her sadness away. He wanted to love her.

Love.

He let the word linger for a moment, float across his mind as he coaxed her lips open. His body already loved hers deeply. And right now, the only thing he wanted to do was show her that no matter what—he cherished her. He was devoted to her.

“Closer, Jake,” she murmured against his mouth, parting her thighs, clutching his back. “Closer.”

With a grunt, he slid his arms underneath her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Brushing his lips against her silky skin, he rocked slowly against her, closing his eyes in pleasure as she let out a delicious whimper.

He kissed her neck again, and then her collarbone. Slowly, he dragged his mouth lower, peeling back the lacy edge of her thin knit T-shirt with his teeth. Sliding his hands over her sides, he reached for the tiny buttons at the neckline of the shirt, undoing them one by one.

Her soft breasts rose and fell, brushing against his palms. Her eyes were closed, her dark lashes resting against the upper curves of her cheekbones. Her stubborn little chin lifted, and her lips parted in a hint of a smile. He gazed at her face, transfixed. He could live in that smile. Live in her softness, her strength. Her joy.

She was
his
joy, he realized. His treasure. With a long exhalation of breath, he began to make love to her.

Bending down, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, his tongue savoring the warmth and sweetness of her mouth even as his fingers ran under the hem of her top and lifted it. He peeled it off and dropped it on the floor. Her bra followed, and he gazed at her small round breasts, memorizing the sweet curves, the way she arched her back, pushing them toward him, offering herself. Trusting him.

He didn’t want to betray that trust and shut himself away from her, but he didn’t know how he couldn’t. Right now, he just wanted to love her. His mouth closed slowly over a nipple, and she whimpered again, reaching for him, bunching her fingers in his shirt, lifting it up. He pulled it over his head and then touched the tip of his tongue to her other nipple, teasing.

When she arched against him, he sucked gently, splaying a palm on her bare back, gathering her closer to his mouth.

The fire crackled across the room, sending light dancing over her smooth skin. She shifted restlessly beneath him and he let go of her breast, replacing his lips with his hands once again. He looked at her—her swollen lips, her tousled hair. Her eyes were still shut as he gazed down at her.

Reaching for the tie on the front of her temptingly tight yoga pants, he tugged until it came unknotted. He pulled the pants halfway down her hips and rained kisses on her abdomen, dipping his tongue into the well of her belly button before dragging a wet path lower.

“Oh, God,” she said, her voice strangled.

“Shh.”

He pulled the pants off, taking her satin panties with them and she lay there gasping, her fingers spread in mid-air. He watched her a moment and then left the cradle of her thighs, smiling as her legs fell farther apart when he stood to remove his jeans.

His erection sprang forward, the skin taut and aching, begging to be buried inside of her. He ignored it and knelt beside the sofa, lifting the back of her knees and draping her legs over his shoulders. She sucked in a breath.

“Carolina.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Look at me.”

He waited as she opened her eyes. The expression he found there was filled with lust, but something else, too. Cautiousness. His heart tore a little, and he massaged her hips reassuringly. “I just want to love you.”

“Jake . . .”

“Let me.”

She didn’t speak, but closed her eyes again and with a small smile, let her head sink back against a throw pillow.

He ran his fingertips down the insides of her thighs and eased her apart before opening his mouth on her. She stiffened in response, pushing against his face. He pushed back with his tongue and was rewarded with a low, feminine moan.

This wasn’t the first time he’d given her pleasure with his mouth, but this was different. She tasted so sweet—poignantly familiar, though they had only been together a week.
Only a week?
Incredible. Unbelievable, but yet, it felt perfectly right. At this moment, he lived only to worship her. It was all he wanted.

He hummed against her, setting up a rhythm designed to prolong her ecstasy. She moaned once more, and her small fingers gripped the edge of the sofa cushion. The fire popped again, the heat from it burning his bare back. Without leaving her, Jake gripped her thighs and swung onto the sofa to kneel in front of her, raising her up to seat his tongue even deeper. She dug her heels into his back and bucked against him, urging him on.

God, he loved her this way—wild, gorgeous, unashamed of her desire, unafraid of allowing herself to let go. He closed his lips around her bud, sucking, and a few seconds later, she did let go—coming apart against his mouth with a hoarse cry, her thighs trembling, her hips undulating in his palms. He held on, slowing the rhythm, wanting her to ride the wave until she couldn’t take any more. He didn’t want to pull away—he wanted to give her bliss forever.

So beautiful. So exquisite.

“Jake.” She took a shuddering breath.

Her voice was a faraway thread of a whisper, and reluctantly, he raised his head.

“Shh.”

Coaxing her thighs from his shoulders, he crawled forward, gathering her in his arms, easing down beside her. Carolina’s back was to the fire, her face in shadow. Still—her eyes were glowing as she looked at him. For a long moment, he gazed back, hoping fervently she knew what was in his heart. He wanted to tell her—anticipated that she wanted him to say it—but he couldn’t. He was already half-heartbroken, and they hadn’t even been separated yet.

Instead, he dipped his head and kissed her shoulder. Trailing his hand down her side, he lifted her thigh over his hip and guided himself inside of her slick heat. She sighed against his shoulder and twisted a bit until he was completely sheathed. He groaned into her hair and gripped her hip, rocking against her.

She gasped. As he watched her, she dropped her gaze, looked down at their bodies and then wiggled closer, pulling against his back, pressing herself to him, breast to thigh. Then her hand drifted over his shoulder, down his arm, and she spread her fingers over the back of his hand.

Taking her cue, Jake twined his fingers with hers and began to move. He was incredibly aroused, as he always was with her, but this time he didn’t feel desperate. He wanted to take his time. Make it last. Resting his head next to hers, he began to rock again, letting the tightness of her encasing heat urge him slowly higher. Pleasure built in waves and he gave over to it—let his devotion to her wash over him, bury him in his senses.

He tightened his fingers around hers and held her close, increasing the pace, urging her higher. Her head, pillowed on his arm, rolled back and she opened her mouth in a silent cry just as she convulsed around him, squeezing, and he went rigid as a glorious orgasm ripped through his body and he spilled deep inside of her.

“Carolina,” he moaned, crushing her to him.

Her breath exploded on his chest in pants and still he held her. After a moment, he became dimly aware that his arm was wrapped too tightly around her rib cage and he relaxed it. In turn, she began to slide her hand away from where it clasped his hand against her hip. He gripped her fingers, stopping her.

“No. Stay with me,” he whispered. She couldn’t leave. Not yet.

She sighed and snuggled closer, closing her eyes. He gazed at her a moment and then closed his eyes too. It was easier to pretend that this moment really could last forever.

The fire hissed just then, as if it disagreed with him.

“Shut the hell up,” Jake mumbled.

“What?”

“I’m talking to myself.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head and squeezed her hand.

She smiled against his chest. “I’m rubbing off on you, Jake. Better be careful or the voice in your head will start nagging you like a bad rash.”

He chuckled. “I’m always careful.”

And he was. But he’d been so busy protecting everything else that he’d left one thing completely and ironically vulnerable. His heart.

His heart, which loved her with each and every steady beat, was something that he didn’t even want to contemplate, though, because how could he be fully in the moment with Carolina if his heart was shattered? Taking a long breath, he closed his eyes. “You still want to visit Regina this morning?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Hell, no.”

Jake laughed.

“That sounded awful, didn’t it?” Carolina shifted and looked up at him. “I mean—I love her, but I love . . .” She trailed off just as her mouth formed the word “you”.