by Cat Johnson
And most of all, I was wondering if we’d repeat that kiss and preparing myself to make it better this time as I rehearsed the moves in my mind.
Meanwhile, Stone palmed the back of my head as he held me close against him. I felt the weight of his head against the top of mine.
He was comforting me. That’s all this was. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t sexual. It was a man reacting in the face of a woman’s tears.
I could keep telling myself that, but it didn’t change the fact I wanted it to be more. I was poised and ready for this embrace to be more. For whatever had been building between us since our first contentious meeting at the farm stand to be more.
Then he started to move his left hand up and down my back. Lightly. Gently. He angled his head over mine and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head as he still cradled me against his chest.
This felt like more to me.
“Stone?” I said.
He pulled back to look down at me, waiting.
I wanted to invite him in. Hell, I wanted to invite him to my bed, but that wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t have that kind of self-confidence.
The fear that we weren’t on the same page paralyzed me. I bit my lip, choosing my words.
Stone blew out a curse beneath his breath before he said, “Harper . . .”
I raised my gaze to his. “Yeah?”
He cussed again and then his mouth was on mine. He leaned lower as his hands cupped my face. Stone angled his head and the kiss grew deeper, more passionate as he backed me toward the house.
“Your truck lights are on,” I gasped when I managed to break away for a second.
“They’ll go off automatically.” Then his lips were back, covering mine.
We’d reached the basement door. With my back against the door and Stone’s body in front of me, I was pinned. But I didn’t feel trapped. I felt wanted. Needed.
His hands braced on the doorframe, Stone pulled away from the kiss.
Breathing heavy he said, “Invite me in.”
It wasn’t really a question. More like a plea than a demand. I answered it anyway. “Yes.”
A thousand times yes.
From the Journal of Rose Van de Berg
MUDVILLE INQUISITOR
1942
People gathered downtown on May 1 at a rally to buy war bonds and stamps. The day’s effort raised $50,000, considered sufficient to buy a bomber for MacArthur.
SIXTEEN
Harper
Stone reached for the knob with one hand and me with the other, pulling me inside before he closed and locked the door behind us.
Up the stairs he pulled me across the kitchen.
“Wait.”
He paused, but I saw the crazed need in his eyes.
“I gotta close this one too.” I slammed and locked the other kitchen door, thinking all these doors were getting in the way of my imminent sexual satisfaction.
And I knew to my core it would be satisfying.
We’d both redeemed ourselves with that kiss in the driveway. It was enough to wipe the memory of our first fumbled attempt clear out of my mind until just now.
All secured, I turned to see Stone watching me. His nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily.
“All set,” I said, figuring he was as anxious to get upstairs as I was.
“Good.” He closed in on me.
We didn’t make it upstairs. We didn’t even get out of the kitchen before his mouth was on mine again.
His tongue plunged between my lips. The small sound of mingled pleasure and submission that escaped from my lips had him growling.
He hoisted me up onto the kitchen table and stepped between my legs. As he pressed his palm against my stomach and slid his fingers beneath the waistband of my pajama bottoms, I was grateful I hadn’t taken the time to put on real clothes.
His hand continued on its downward journey until he hit the juncture of my thighs and the spot that had me gasping.
Stone smiled against my mouth before he got serious again and went to work in earnest.
I was already leaning back against the tabletop behind me, braced on my hands and panting when the orgasm broke over me.
He was breathing as hard as I was by the time I came down from the climax.
“Bedroom,” I gasped.
“Yes,” he hissed as he lifted me off the table and set my bare feet on the floor.
I led the way this time, taking his hand in mine and pulling him up the wide staircase that twisted and turned its way from the first floor foyer to the second floor hall that led to all the bedrooms.
I tried not to let my sudden shyness get the better of me as I stumbled to a stop just inside the bedroom I’d claimed as mine for while I was here.
I needn’t have worried. Stone wasn’t going to give me time to get nervous.
His hands were on my hips and I was on the mattress in seconds. Then he was over me, pulling the already low neckline of my tank top down.
He engulfed the nipple that popped out with the heat of his mouth. My head pressed back against the bed as my mouth fell open on a groan.
Stone let out a low growl deep in his throat that vibrated straight through me. He pulled away and said, “Damn. Those little sounds you make are driving me crazy.”
That made two of us who were insane at the moment.
He’d just given me one hell of an orgasm in the kitchen—I’d never look at that table the same again—but already I wanted this man so badly I felt crazed. Empty. Needy. So ready for him inside me I couldn’t think about anything else.
Blindly I reached for his belt and tugged at the leather and metal. He rose to kneel above me, his gaze on me as he conquered the buckle I’d failed at.
He pulled the T-shirt that had been tucked into his jeans over his head and tossed it to the floor, revealing that sun-bronzed, rock hard torso that I hadn’t been able to get out of my mind since the first time I’d seen him coming in from the corn field.
God, he was a sight, rising above me as I lay beneath him. Like the hero in a romance novel . . .
At that thought I knew when I started my writing day tomorrow my mind would be on Stone in my bed.
I only hoped I could keep my book from getting too spicy. The publisher was used to getting a certain heat level from me. I had a feeling what was about to happen between us would be much hotter than my usual fictional lovemaking.
Judging by the way he looked at me, Stone was going to take me to a whole new level of passion. At least I hoped so because I was ready for it.
He slid off the bed and pushed his jeans down his lean but muscular thighs. I couldn’t concentrate on his legs though because that bulge in his briefs had all my attention.
Then it was no longer inside his briefs as Stone got naked. Completely and gloriously naked. He was Adonis-like perfection, from the wide shoulders, to the narrow waist, to the dusting of hair that led directly down to his . . .
That was it. From now on every hero I wrote was going to be a farmer. If the occupation created bodies like Stone’s, why would I ever want to change?
He saw me staring at him. At a certain part of him. He narrowed his eyes and stalked toward me on the bed. Before I knew his intention he’d curled the fingers of both hands beneath the waist of my pajama bottoms and tugged.
My bottom half was naked in seconds. He came for my top half next, crawling onto the mattress and over me to be able to reach my tank top. It joined my pants on the floor and I was as bare as he was.
He drew in a deep, chest-expanding breath through his nose and then reached forward to run his hands down from my ribcage to my waist. When he reached my thighs, he gripped me tight, lowered his head and latched onto my core.
The combination of the heat and the sensation of his mouth had me lifting my hips to increase the pressure. He took the hint and worked me harder, sucking my sensitive bundle of nerves until my legs began to shake.
His name on my lips h
ad him releasing a growl that I felt vibrate through me. Then I wasn’t able to form words. Not even single syllables.
He rode out my second hip-bucking orgasm of the night to the end, before he pulled away and reached for the floor, emerging with his jeans in one fist.
Out of the pocket he pulled a single condom.
I was suddenly torn between being grateful he was prepared so I could have what I’d been craving—all of him inside me—and wondering why he had it.
Did he put that in his pocket tonight before dinner in preparation for being with me, or did he always carry the damn things just in case he got lucky and hooked up with some rando?
“Stop,” he said, as he paused with the condom unwrapped and poised over his tip.
“Stop what?” I asked.
“I can see your brain working. You’re wondering why this was in my pocket.”
“Um . . .” I almost denied it, but the truth was I wanted to know. “Okay, yes. I’m wondering.”
He pulled his mouth to one side. “My nosy brother is why.”
“What?” I asked, feeling less dubious, but just as curious as before.
Stone rolled his eyes. “Cash pinned me down about where I was going when he heard I wasn’t going to be at dinner with the family. Then he followed me around with a box of condoms until I finally agreed to take one just so he’d shut the hell up and leave me alone before my mom saw him.”
I smiled. “I’m glad you did take it.” In fact, I wished he’d taken more than one.
“Believe me, now so am I. Very glad.” He rolled the latex over his length, and then those intense eyes were focused back on me as he crawled over me and positioned himself between my legs.
One good thrust and he was inside. There, he held still.
Neither of us moved as his eyes closed and he breathed out a soft, “Damn.”
I watched his throat work as he swallowed hard, before he started to move slowly. I was primed and ready.
We fit together perfectly and I wanted more. Faster. Harder. I reached down, gripped his ass and pulled him in deeper.
“Watch it, Harper. I’m already hanging on by a thread and I only brought the one condom.”
“Plenty of other stuff we can do without one.”
His mouth dropped open and he was silent for a couple of shocked breathless seconds before he let out another soft curse.
Meanwhile, my imagination ran wild with the many, naughty possibilities. It seemed being with Stone brought out the bad girl in me and I liked it.
That was all it took for Stone to let loose, rocking the bed against the wall until I started to fear I’d be watching YouTube to see how to repair Victorian plaster walls after we were done. But I wasn’t complaining.
The sweet friction of his body rubbing mine just the right way, after it had been oh so long since I’d had this particular pleasure, was like a drug. I let it sweep me away.
My muscles clamped down on him inside me and he cursed again. He’d never used these obscenities in front of me before tonight, but it seemed Stone had a mouth on him when he let go.
I loved seeing him like this. Raw. Out of control. Because of me.
Because of us together.
The climax crashed into me as hard as Stone did when he felt it begin. He sped his stroke, held deep and followed me over the edge, before collapsing on top of me.
Crushed beneath his slick skin as his body heaved with his effort to breathe might have become my new favorite spot. I never wanted to be any place else.
From the Journal of Rose Van de Berg
MUDVILLE INQUISITOR
1945
Joyous crowds formed in the town square when the surrender of Japan was announced.
SEVENTEEN
Stone
I came out of the bathroom and even with Harper draped on the bed, still naked, I was having trouble believing what had just happened was really real.
Sure, I’d imagined this happening a dozen times during dinner alone but damn, nothing I’d come up with was as good as the reality. This woman was . . . there were no words to describe her.
Maybe the blood just hadn’t returned to my brain yet.
Very possible. I was still half hard even though we’d only just finished a couple of minutes ago.
I glanced around. “This is a nice room. I’ve never been in here before.”
“I should hope not. It’s Agnes’s bedroom.” She cocked up a brow suggestively.
“Ha-ha. And for your information, my brothers and I used to play hide and seek in this house when we were younger. We just usually headed for the attic.”
She cringed. “The attic still scares me a little.”
“Sissy,” I said as I bounced onto the mattress next to her, impressed Agnes had a king sized bed in here. “So this is where all the magic happens.”
Harper let out a snort. “Shouldn't you wait for me to complement you and how magic it was before you call it magic yourself?”
I tried not to be insulted by her use of air quotes around the word magic, twice, and rolled my eyes at her. “First of all, I was talking about your writing. Although the sex was pretty magical, even if I do say so myself.”
Her brow creased with a frown. “How do you know I write in here?”
“I heard you talking to Bethany about it at the game.”
I’d listened to every word this woman said that night and tonight. And she talked a lot.
If that wasn’t proof I was more interested in her than I’d been in any woman in years, I didn’t know what was.
And that had been before the kick ass sex.
“Were you eavesdropping on us?” she joked.
“No, I was trying to learn more about the new woman in town.” For so many reasons.
She seemed satisfied with that answer, which was good because I had other plans for her and I that for once didn’t entail verbal sparring. There were so many better things to do with her mouth now that we’d moved to the sexual phase of our relationship.
But actually, I wasn’t opposed to having a conversation . . . at least until I recovered.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and she snuggled closer, saying, “But yes, I do write here in bed on the laptop. It’s horrible, I know. Physically. Ergonomically.”
“Eh. You get outside and move around. Once in a while.” I smirked as she shot me a glare. “So, what is this book you’re writing about anyway?”
“This town.”
My eyes widened. “Really?”
She laughed. “Don’t worry. My inspiration is coming from one of Rose’s old diaries that I found in the attic. Not from you. Well, mostly not from you.”
I hoped she was joking about that last part and angled myself on the bed so I could run my fingertips over her breasts as we talked. The best of both worlds. “I’ve heard rumors Rose’s diaries were all lost.”
“Nope. They’ve been right upstairs in an old trunk in Agnes’s attic. Red thinks they’ve been there since Rose died.”
“So what’s in them? Anything good?” I waggled by eyebrows. “Gossip? Infidelity? Evil bosses and bastard children?”
She laughed. “Mainly news.”
“What?”
“In the one I’m using, she mostly clipped news articles, but what’s in there is really fascinating. Some of the clippings date back a hundred years. I only grabbed one of the diaries and it gave me enough ideas to write this book and get a concept for the next two. And there’s a whole trunk full of the stuff.”
“Hmm. Interesting. I’d love to take a look sometime.” And that wasn’t even bullshit. I meant it.
“Oh. I won’t go up there at night. It spooks me.”
I laughed. “The attic? That was my favorite place to hide during our games. There’s this little spot, a jog in the roofline, that I’d cram myself into, then pull the big box for Agnes’s old artificial Christmas tree in front of me. My brothers never found me. Not even once.”
She lifted a brow. “Go
od for you, but it’s still scary.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll be there with you. Come on.”
She hesitated then finally nodded. “Okay.”
“You’re going to trust me to protect you from the boogie man in the attic? I’m honored.” I clutched my palm to my heart before grabbing her hand. “Let’s go. And when we’re up there I’ll show you my secret hiding spot.”
“Great.”
“What’s wrong with you? I always thought the attic would make an amazing office. Or a game room. With a pool table. And a movie theater. ”
“You’re nuts.” She shook her head. “It’s creepy up there.”
“So sex in the attic is out of the question then? We could christen it . . .” I joked.
“No,” she said in no uncertain terms.
“Okay fine. I can’t believe I’m saying this but put on some clothes so we can go paw through some dusty books.” With regret I watched as she searched the floor for her clothes, tossing me mine at the same time.
I settled on just pulling on my jeans. That was good enough since I planned on being naked again shortly.
As soon as she was in her little pants and top, I tugged her down the hall and up the back stairs.
The house was truly amazing. I was beginning to fully realize the woman dragging her feet behind me was even more so. That this city girl could appreciate an old woman’s local small town newspaper clippings—enough to write three books about them—boggled my mind.
But I should probably be used to that by now when it came to Harper.
She flipped on the light and I got my first look in about two decades of Agnes’s attic. Not much had changed. Except for the big old trunk.
It was open and I moved to look inside. Harper hung back but then moved closer, like she was torn. Stay near the stairs so she could make a quick escape? Or stick close to me and trust me to protect her?
I was happy when she came closer to me. A small victory but it made me happy.
“There’s a lot in here.” I glanced over my shoulder at Harper then picked up a couple of the books, turning them over in my hand.