You Called Me-ARE and Apple epub (12 page)

He watched her tilt her chin up, he stroked his lips over hers, closing his mouth over hers. When she didn’t pull away he kissed her. Angling her around until his back hit the cabin wall and Kenya leaned into him. Cupping the back of her head, he deepened the kiss, swept the inside of her mouth. Smoothing a hand over her hips he cupped her behind forcing her to feel his arousal. To feel what she did to him just being there.

He jerked. The cold touch of her leather glove-clad hands slid up to his back, beneath his sweater. He lifted her from the ground, her thighs flat to his hips rocking into her. His body hard and stretching longer with each dip of her tongue in his mouth. Then he slowly pulled away.

“Jonathan, stop,” Kenya murmured against his lips, wet and glistening, slightly swollen from his kisses and he liked knowing he did that to her. “Accepting a kiss or two is not accepting your bed.”

“Telling you to move your things into my cabin is not a suggestion, Kenya. I requested that cabin because it’s big enough for the two of us.”

“That’s not going to happen. Give your attention to the kids and your family. This can’t happen again,” she warned. He stole a quick peck on her lips and Kenya angled away, pointing a finger at him. “That right there, Jonathan. Don’t do that.”

“Why?” he asked, stalking her down the alley. Metal trashcans, sealed by locking lids, toppled over. He grasped one ponytail bouncing over her chest. Fat snowflakes landed on her hair pulled taught, her head tipped in his direction. He's seen his share of flirty looks on many women, the one Kenya offered came from her heart, warm, a natural reaction and it shined on her like an emerald. He urged, “Come here, Kenya.”

He tugged the other braid until her face was inches away from his to bump his nose along hers. “Seduction won’t work on me, Jonathan.”

“Hasn’t a man ever touched your hair?”  She blinked rapidly and he had his answer. Probably Randall.

“You have company and it’s not me. Go be with your family.”

“I decide who I’m here with, not Fiona. I can’t get to know you better if you’re on the other side of the lake.”

“Answer one question,” she said running the back of one of her hands over his face, brushing snow off his cheek. Kenya parted her lips to speak, but he cut her off. He liked her careless attention.

“Either you trust me or you don’t, Kenya.”

“Why do you care about these kids? What’s in it for you?”

Peace of mind, that’s what was in it for him. “Karma has different criteria for a wealthy man. Giving back is a requirement,” he said, wiping a snowflake off her eyelash. Her soft giggle warmed through his body tightening his groin.      

Kenya said eyes glittering, “Wow, you wealthy start out in the red.” She put a hand over his heart and he just stared into her sexy face ready to taste those lips. “I’m not sharing a cabin with you, but if your group is down here tonight I might ski with you…and the kids. I’m supposed to meet Benjamin, another counselor, on the slopes.”

“He’s a Ranger…lives up here.”

“Good. If our paths cross I’ll ski with you, but I’m here for the kids and my hours, that’s it.”

Jonathan caught the tease in her voice. The little mouse has no idea she’s playing with a lion not a cat, a hungry lion.

“You can ski, Kenya?” Jonathan asked and a scowl creased her forehead. 

“Who’s stereotyping now, Blakemore?” she moaned. “And yes I can ski and ice skate.”

He dropped one braid and smoothed the knit cap from her head. The dark thick hair he wanted to unbraid and watch it spill around her shoulders instead he tucked a fly a way behind her ear.

“I grew up in an apartment building down the hall from four black girls, Ms. Claiborne. I know about sweating out your hair. You ladies won’t leave the house if it starts to get curly around here,” he said, running a finger over her hairline before slipping the cap over her perfectly shaped head.  Kenya’s lips parted. He said, “I think it’s pretty.”

“Four black girls…were you adopted?” she urged.

“Neighbors,” he offered.
More like sisters
.

“Where did you grow up?” her words rushed from her mouth.

“Detroit. Surprised?”

“I guess I am.” She cocked her head to the side. “Your accent is unmistakable. I figured you’d lived in Ireland until you were an adult. You don't speak with an Irish slang often.”

“We came to the States during my middle school years—”he broke off as his name filled the air from someone calling behind them up the alley. He tugged her head back by one ponytail until theirs eyes met. “I speak Gaelic when I make love to a woman. Care to hear some tonight?” Kenya blushed profusely and fed him a shy smile making his erection stretch to a painful length in his jeans. “That smile is a weapon, Claiborne...tone it down or you'll be speaking Gaelic up against a tree.”

She covered her mouth with her hands and looked a way, embarrassed.

“Mr. Blakemore…You have to come sign us in.” Jonathan eyed the young man and stepped away from Kenya.

He slipped an arm around her waist, resting a hand on her hip and moved them slowly up toward the front of the alley. The snow getting thicker as the day woke through the clouds yawning down a day for skiing. Jonathan liked this woman, wanted to get to know her better. Wanted to touch more of what he caressed beneath the snug jeans, cupping her round ass.

“Would you mind if I keep Judge?”

“I get one kiss, but you want my dog,” he acknowledged in a rueful tone.

Kenya kicked a foot through the snow and the simple careless act tightened his groin. Kenya complained, “You’ve undressed me down to my bra and panties, seduced me with chocolate fudge at a jazz club and you’ve had more than one kiss, Blakemore. I think you can let me have Judge for a few days. Besides, I don’t think he cares for Fiona. “

Tilting his head, this woman stirred him from the bottom up. He admired the conviction in her tone when she’d made up her mind on something. The certainty of her decision aroused him. Kenya excited him on a level only a wife should…in his heart. “Sure you’re not an attorney, Ms. Claiborne?”

“An attorney wouldn’t need a watch dog. They
are
the watch dog.”

“True,” he said.

“Do you keep in touch with the girls you grew up with?”

“Am I dating one of them? Is that your true question, Kenya?”

“Are you?”

“I'm attracted to black woman, Kenya. Doesn't mean I find them all attractive. They were nice girls, but I'm interested in you.” They continued up to the double doors where he ushered her inside to the warmth of the fire in the large hearth across the room.

He introduced Kenya to the young man before ushering her inside the main cabin a hand around her waist. Crossing the room, he propped a hip on a table. Kenya’s smile and pretty face lit the room. The other chaperones from the year prior and the kids in his group swarmed around her.

Kenya impressed him her warm personality filling the large cabin. Slipping his hands into his jeans front pocket Jonathan rested on the heels of his boots taking a second and third look at the woman making his heart beat faster.

Fiona’s head popped up from the table beside the kitchen and he didn’t like the level of disgust showered over Kenya from his cousin. Her concern over him marrying an Irish woman became obsessive. He’d have to straighten her out on her involvement in his personal life.

The other precinct kids crossed the snow covered bridge, ski poles strapped over their backs. Kenya clicked her ski boots closure and waited for the lift to arrive. Tightening the Velcro on her gloves over her wrist, she turned as a nice deep voice called her name.

“Kenya, is it?”

“Yes,” she said, extending her hand to the mountain man standing behind her, her fingers swallowed beneath his large hands. He must live up here because the skin-tight shirt and ski pants wouldn’t be enough for her. Lean muscles were packed tight under his shirt. “You are?”

“Benjamin Roberts.” Gripping her hand, the man smiled and it was nice. Stop lying the man was hot and his hand shake was warm and caressing. Way too sensual for a mountain man. 

“Nice to meet you, Benjamin.”

“I hear you’re helping me with the kids tonight.”

“I guess so. I’m not the best on the skis, but I can cross country pretty well and,” squeezing two fingers together, Kenya continued, “go down small slopes. Note I said slopes, not hills.”

The man threw his head back and laughed, big and hearty. Waving the kids over, he said, “We’ll stick with the small slopes, Kenya.”

She looked at the thin shirt he wore, without a coat and a chill went down her arms.

“Aren’t you cold?”

There was that mountain man smile she found welcoming. “This is Gortex.” He tugged at his shirt then pulled out his collar to show her a second shirt. “This one wicks the sweat from my body. I stay dry and warm.” Kenya rubbed his collar between her fingers, feeling the lycra-textured material, his skin warm beneath her hand. Springy chest hair tickled her fingers and Kenya snatched her hand out of his shirt.

She stuttered embarrassed from groping the poor man, “You ski a lot, Benjamin?”

The tall man angled a sweet smile down on her. “Please, call me Ben and I ski almost every day. I’m a Ranger up here so it helps keep me in condition for patrolling such a vast area until spring sends me to the artificial ramps,” he said.

“Well, then I’m in good hands,” she said, securing her knit cap and stiffened when he took the goggles from her fingers, sliding them onto her face, then tapped one long finger along the frame.

“I’ll make certain we have a good time this weekend. I love making a pretty woman smile,” he teased. His compliment gave her that squishy girly sensation a woman needs every so often.

She hadn't missed her lumberjack's axe tenting his ski pants nor Jonathan's attention on her from across the open field where he stood beside Fiona. Men are flirting shamelessly tonight. The cold air must bring out the warrior in them.     

Why did he hit her radar so fast? 

These kids beamed. Excited about skiing, something many would never know not for Jonathan's generosity. She took the ski poles as the kids huddled around her and Benjamin. Every kid should have a chance to enjoy nature like this.  And she knew the man who made this possible. Glad she came up here, she gave attention to her crew going down the slopes.

Kenya handed the young girl her ski poles as she situated on the lift. The two girls grinned, eyeing the boys waiting to get on the next lift. Darting her gaze through the groups of kids, she found herself looking for Jonathan the same way. Regardless of the large man behind her, she couldn’t take her eyes off Jonathan.

At the bottom of the hill, Kenya eased her pole against the stand. Catching her breath, she watched Benjamin wiping snow off a large stump cut sideways into a bench. Accepting his offer, she sat beside him after grabbing two hot drinks from the thermos on the table.

Kids began lining up as they dropped off their poles again to attack the hot cider. Everyone accounted for; she paired the kids for the cross-country trails after they warmed a little.  

“Kenya, you’re a natural out here on the snow.” He paused, steam floated over his face from his breath. Kenya handed him a cup of cider. He said, “You should volunteer next year. The kids really like you.”

She tilted her face. “I thought so too, which surprised me ‘cause I’m not a kid person.” She took her gloves off, allowed the heat of the cup to warm her hands.

“How many kids have you been around?”

Her eyes widened. Couldn't think of any kids she'd been around lately. “I guess I never really have.”

“Then how do you know if you’ll get along?” he asked, the cup at his mouth and his warm eyes trained on her over the rim of his drink.

She scooted her hip over to the edge of the log to get a better look at her ski partner. Hadn’t noticed she’d been resting along Benjamin’s shoulder beside hers now and he hadn't said a word. She scratched her boot in the snow then peered up at him. “I guess I don't know if I'll get along.” And she hadn't. Kenya never played with many kids until she went to camp and met Julia. She'd never felt welcomed until then.  

Her brother and sister were so much older than her. They'd treated her with a coldness she'd never gotten over for something she had no control over.

“Kenya…” he said getting her attention.

“Benjamin,” sitting up straight, she continued, “Uh, you asked about my being uncomfortable with the kids.” She patted the falling snow from her jeans. “My siblings were so much older than me, I was always treated like a baby…never liked that.”

“That might explain why you see kids as burdens.”

Kenya let that marinate through her mind. It made sense.  

“Benjamin, I honestly never thought of it in that context.” His large hand laid flat over her back, ushering her to her feet. 

“You’ll do fine. Stick by my side and you will love it enough to come back next year.” Tightening the Velcro on the wrists of her gloves, a laugh burst from her mouth before she could stop it.

“You don’t know me, Benjamin. I may test your hosting skills.”