by Inez Kelley
She slid down his body but never took her arms from around his neck. He couldn’t say he minded in the least as her skin skimmed along his. His lips traced along her jaw as he hooked two fingers in her panties and pushed them over her butt. Beneath his shorts, his libido stirred but he took a breath, checking himself. She was far too sore for anything right now.
“Get in the bath and soak, I’ll be right back.”
He closed the door and headed down the stairs. He felt comfortable in Kayla’s house. The first night he stayed, he’d braced for the worst but this new house was nothing like his old home. It was simply his girlfriend’s place, not a reminder of his past.
The surrounding woodlands and meadows were as familiar as his own face but he’d worked through the initial discomfort of being there. The ever-changing forest had welcomed him back with secret memories but he’d made surprising new ones already. Ones of Kayla laughing as he chased her through the meadow, of her lips tinged purple from the last ripe blackberries on the vine, of staring into the star-speckled night while she nuzzled his neck.
He’d avoided the sugarhouse, though. That was one place he wanted to revisit alone. She needed to get the generator and hot water tank installed soon and he’d promised to help her. But his brief steps into that place on the day they’d met had filled him with a raw ache that stung deep in his marrow. There were old ghosts there he had to lay to rest. He couldn’t do that with her around.
Pushing the thoughts away, he checked to make sure the front door was locked. His toes rammed into her purse on the floor beside the door. Biting back a curse, he rubbed his toe then hefted the bag, the weight shocking him. She must have bought a ton of stuff but he hadn’t paid that much attention. He carried it into the kitchen and emptied fourteen glass jars onto the counter, laughing at how much she crammed into that cloth bag.
Four had claimed a spot beside the fridge. Her bed was a basket lined with thick quilting. Several catnip mice peeked out of the folds, and a ball of tinfoil rested where she could bat it without leaving her perch. He dropped a few pats on her back and she rubbed her face along his hand. He liked cats okay, although he considered himself a dog person. But seeing the kitten in Kayla’s hands, seeing her pour out so much love for one tiny creature, had struck a guarded place in his soul. Somehow the cat had starting him thinking of babies and the future.
A cool little paw landed on his foot and Four meowed for attention. Matt squatted. “Hey, little girl.”
A little girl. One with Kayla’s eyes, eyes that would blink with her laugh as she called him Daddy. Whoa. That had come out of nowhere. Funny, he could see her so clearly. She was a blend of his stubbornness and Kayla’s smarts. Shoving all that aside for now, Matt rubbed the kitten’s head and stood.
Using the tray from on top of the fridge, he gathered stuff for her to nibble on while bathing. He opened cabinets until he found a half-gallon plastic pitcher. Other than Garrett, he’d never bathed another person but he couldn’t wait to bathe Kayla. Sawing wood used different muscles than she was used to and he hated seeing her hurt. A few gentle massages thrown in under his soapy hands and he’d work the kinks out of her muscles in no time.
Outside the darkened window, the breeze picked up and a few dots of rain splashed against the glass. Contentment settled in his belly. There was nothing like sleeping when it rained in the mountains. Kayla slept with her window open, a quirk he loved.
His footsteps slowed on the stair treads. Kayla was featuring in more and more of his daily thoughts and plans for the future. Deciding that was a good thing, there was a bit more spring in his step as he climbed the stairs.
There was no sound behind the bathroom door. He rapped one knuckle. “Kayla?”
The only light came from the half dozen candles but the glow they sent over her wet skin stopped him cold. The oiled water clung to the upper curves of her breast. With her golden-brown hair piled on top her head with some kind of clippy thing, the long line of her neck called to his mouth.
Matt licked his lips. “How’re you feeling?”
One shoulder tipped upward. “Like a crybaby.”
“Nah.” He set the tray on the ledge beside the tub. “Sore muscles are annoying. You did great today.”
Bright blue-painted toenails peeked through the bubbles as he lathered a cloth and soaped her feet, rubbing into her arches with his thumbs. She purred and scooted further into the water. He worked her feet, her calves, her lower thighs. Kayla nibbled on a cracker, her lazy but sparkling eyes watching to see if he would go higher. She fed him a bite of pumpernickel wafer as he resoaped the cloth then moved to her shoulders.
“Wine would make this bath perfect.”
“No wine with painkillers.”
She flicked water over her shoulder at him. “Killjoy.”
Knots and tense muscles loosened under his hands. Her head lolled forward. He stroked her back and her upper arms, kneading until she sighed. “That feels so good.”
He used the pitcher to wet her hair then poured shampoo on her head. Deliberately, he scraped her scalp with his fingernails then massaged the foam through her hair, sliding his thumbs down her neck. He drew fresh water to rinse her hair, then used the creamy conditioner she loved. The silky texture was perfect under his hands and he used it to work the last bits of tension out of her shoulder. He rinsed the bubbles away.
Tears silently streamed over her cheeks. He set the pitcher on the ledge and moved to her side. “What’s wrong?”
Kayla shook her head, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. “Nothing’s wrong. I just...I miss my mom. The last thing she did on the first day at every new place was wash my hair. Even when I got old enough to do it myself, she still came in and washed my hair. It was kind of a ritual, I guess, a way to say no matter where we lived, we were home as long as we were together.”
She sniffed and wiped her nose with her back of her hand. “When I moved to my own place, she stayed over and washed my hair that first night. Then she died and there wasn’t anyone to wash it when I moved here.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
Spiky wet lashes opened and her cheeks rounded. “You didn’t. You finally made this place feel like home.”
Gratitude and something warm in her eyes made his chest heavy. His heart skipped then thudded against his ribs. Kayla rose to her knees and pressed her mouth to his. Her wet skin glided along his chest and her hair clung to his fingers as he cupped the back of her head. Sharp teeth nipped at his jaw, sliding around to lick a place under his ear only she had ever found, one that sucked all the blood from his brain and rerouted it south.
He tried to press closer but the tub blocked him. Grabbing a towel, he stood. Kayla didn’t. Instead, she leaned forward and licked along the ridge of his hip. Terrycloth bunched in his hands as she tugged his shorts low and dragged her tongue along the band just above his cock. One delicate hand curved around his hip, pushed the material down and squeezed his ass.
Teasing licks froze his breath as she delved lower, always avoiding putting her mouth where he wanted it most. Her hand circled around him with the barest touch. Every hair on his body stood and twitched, tensed in anticipation for the heat of her mouth. When it came, his mind blanked.
Kayla was never timid. She hungrily sucked him, sliding her lips up and down his shaft. Soft noises, murmurs of enjoyment, skated along his skin. He loved that she loved this and that he was lucky enough to have found her. He dropped the towel and cupped her head, letting her silky wet hair glide between his fingers. The hard edge of the clawfoot tub dug into his thighs, offsetting the pleasure and making it that much more intense.
His eyes rolled back as she hefted his balls, squeezing them in time with her sucking. Fast flicks of her tongue darted into the slit and lapped at him. He got lost in the smoldering warmth of her mouth. And then she swal
lowed. All of him.
His hands fisted, gripping her hair. The tight confines of her throat shot lust into his veins. She pulled back but kept the sweet seal of her lips around him. Her nails dug into his butt as she steadied herself against him and set a blistering pace that pushed him toward the brink.
Control faded and his hips rocked, driving deeper into her mouth. One finger snaked behind his balls and stroked. A guttural moan ripped from his chest as her nails skimmed his most sensitive spot. Her other hand pumped his shaft, meeting her lips with every stroke. Stars popped behind his eyelids but he held back, clinging to restraint. As sweet as her mouth was, he wanted something wetter, something warmer and tighter.
He thrust his hands under her arms, lifting her from the tub. Water rushed, cascading down her body as her swollen lips landed on his. Teasing him had turned her on and the hand he slid between her legs found warm silk. He rubbed across her clit and she whimpered.
“I love your mouth, but I need inside you. Now.”
“Yes.” She ground down onto his fingers. “Now. Right now.”
Kayla turned, gripped the edge of the tub and lifted her pert ass. Holy hell, he loved a sexually confident woman unafraid to ask for what she wanted. His jeans were folded on the top of the hamper, his wallet still in the pocket. He ripped the billfold loose, fished the condom from inside and dropped the leather on the damp floor.
The bath rug cushioned his kneecaps as he knelt behind her. He loved this view, the slick folds of her pussy swollen and needy, slick and primed for him. Using his thumbs, he parted the pink outer lips, exposing the delicate inner flesh.
“Spread your legs.”
Her knees slid apart and he scooted between her feet, gripped her thighs and licked her pussy. Her soft gasp echoed against the tile.
“I love licking you.”
Her clit was tight, rigid under its hood, and ripe for plucking. Gliding his mouth across it buckled her knees and he grabbed her thighs, holding her steady as he licked and sucked. He stiffened his tongue and drilled it inside her, lapping at her until she was panting noisily. Relentlessly, he pushed her closer to orgasm, never slowing his assault. Fluttering his tongue across the throbbing knot, he pushed her over the edge. Her legs quivered a split second before everything snapped taut.
Surging to his feet, he rolled the latex down his shaft with one hand, sliding two fingers of the other inside her. Her hips rolled back as her slick pussy squeezed him in tiny aftershocks. He pumped his hand once then pressed his cock against her. White light filled his vision as she took him to the root in one backward stroke.
“Oh shit, Kayla.”
Bubbles slid down her leg, dripping onto his foot, as she embraced the hardest part of him. There was no attempt to go slow. It was raw, hot and primal. Kayla lunged back, he thrust forward, and skin slapped against skin. The lingering bath steam coated them as new sweat slicked their bodies. His fingertips dug into her hips when he bent his knees, changing the angle and driving deeper.
“Oh my God,” she panted. Her hand shot between her legs.
“Yes, stroke your clit. Come on my cock.”
She grazed his balls with every self-touch and his toes gripped the bath rug. His shorts prevented him from spreading his knees, and the denial burned sweet.
The long line of her back bowed and a hoarse cry filled the tiled room. Her hidden muscles clamped tight around him, pulling his balls closer to his body. The rhythmical pulse of her orgasm shredded the last of his restraint and he howled, plunging into her and grinding. Fire flashed in his blood as he came. It stretched forever, until it drained his bones of strength and his mind of thought.
Harsh gasps kept time with his thundering heart. Kayla sagged, her legs shaking. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her upright, cradling her back against his chest. Her damp hair clung to his skin as her head lolled to his shoulder. It took everything in him to remain upright.
Her hands trembled as she clutched his forearms. “Do me a favor, okay?”
“Anything.” He nuzzled her neck.
“Remind me to increase my Vitamin B intake if we’re going to keep doing this.”
He chuckled. “Vitamin B?”
“Yeah, and to start slipping some Vitamin A in your coffee. We’re going to kill each other if we keep that up.”
* * *
Warm rain pelted the ground and stung her scalp like needles. Kayla ducked her head and ran, splashing through a puddle that seeped into her shoes. The rain had started late Saturday and hadn’t let up all weekend. Mondays were bad enough but with the downpour added, she wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up with a book. Everything was drenched, sodden and soggy. She covered the box in her hands with a jacket to keep it from becoming the same way.
The bell of McCreedy’s Diner tinkled as she pushed open the door. The weather had kept many indoors and the lunch crowd had thinned to only a few scattered people. She wiped her wet face with her arm as Molly looked up from the counter.
“You didn’t have to bring the mix out today. You’re soaked to the skin.”
“‘Sokay, I had other deliveries to do.” She set the box of buckwheat mix on the counter and collapsed onto a bar stool. Normally she simply made her deliveries and moved on but she needed caffeine if she was going to brave the downpour the rest of the afternoon. “Coffee?”
“Coming right up.”
“Thanks.” She dug two Tylenol out of her purse and swallowed them with the cup Molly put in front of her. Driving in the rain was bad enough but the winding mountain roads made the task twice as harrowing.
She’d not only called Molly Sunday, she’d invited her out to her place. Molly arrived with a double pepperoni pizza and a bottle of wine in tow. Four was thrilled with new person-sized toy. Molly dragged a string back and forth, letting the cat chase and pounce on it for nearly an hour. She loved Kayla’s kitchen and asked pointed questions about Mountain Specialty Spices, pouring over the brochures intently. Molly was as determined for her diner to succeed as Kayla was with her spice store.
Molly rested her chin on her fist. “So how’re things with Matt after I left?”
Matt had come in just as Molly was leaving. The wine had left Kayla feeling free and feisty and Matt knew it. He gently, but firmly, told Molly to drive carefully but to go home.
Heat infused her face. “Fine.”
“Girl, fine isn’t what I’m looking for. I need details. How else can I live vicariously through you?”
“Why? You have men in and out of here all day long.”
Molly’s eyes darted to the back corner of the restaurant. “Yeah, but I don’t date lumber guys.”
Kayla turned on her stool. In a horseshoe-shaped booth, Bob and Webb sat with papers, digital tablets and iPhones spread between them. Two plates held what looked like head-sized cinnamon rolls that were half-eaten and shoved to the side.
“What’s going on there?”
“Beats me. They came in for lunch as usual then Webb’s phone rang and suddenly my restaurant is Hawkins Hardwoods junior.”
Something in the way Molly looked at them piqued Kayla’s radar. “They’re not dating.”
The blonde woman grabbed a tray of empty ketchup bottles and busied herself refilling them. “I know.”
“So ask him out.”
Red globs burped onto the tray when Molly squeezed too hard. “Right. He’d laugh in my face. I’m surprised he isn’t still buying me Barbies for my birthday. I’m his dead best friend’s little sister, ergo, off limits.”
“Oh, you mean Clay?” Things Matt had mentioned before exploded in her mind with clarity. “That’s where Webb got...?” She tapped her temple.
Molly nodded. “Yeah. He lost his eye and was in a coma for a week. I thought I was going to lose them both. I did lose Clay. Logging
is dangerous. It’s ranked as the second-most dangerous job in this country. I can’t...” She shook her head. “You’re a brave woman, dating Matt. I couldn’t do it.”
“I bet you could if the right guy came along.”
A bittersweet smile lifted Molly’s lips as she looked at the corner booth again. “He came around once and a tree nearly killed him. That ended that.”
Kayla squeezed her arm in sympathy. The next few minutes were filled with idle business gossip. Neither woman acknowledged when a phone chirped from the corner booth but the muttered curse turned both their heads.
Webb’s knuckles were white around his phone and Bob shoved papers haphazardly into her briefcase. He said something to her then left the diner at as close to a dead run as politeness allowed. His truck tires spit gravel speeding out of the parking lot.
Bob had packed up and had her wallet out as she approached the counter.
“What’s up?” Molly took her check and her twenty without looking.
Bob licked her lips, as if weighing every word. “There was an accident on Jenkin’s Rock, a skidder cable snapped. Webb’s on his way to the hospital now.”
Molly’s skin paled. “How bad? Was anyone hurt?”
Kayla reached out, laying a comforting hand on Molly’s arm.
“Three loggers, but we don’t know how badly yet.” Bob’s eyes flicked to Kayla. “Matt was one of them.”
Kayla’s stomach dropped to her feet. Her throat tightened as her mind stuttered. Not Matt. Molly’s mouth moved, her face lined with concern, but Kayla couldn’t hear anything but her own racing pulse. Idly, she noticed her cheeks were cold and that her hands shook. A simple loop of words spun through her brain.
Not Matt. Not Matt. NotMattNotMattNotMattNotMatt.
“Where is he?”
Bob took the offered change and her sweet time in answering. “Allegheny Mercy Hospital. Look, I know you’re worried but don’t go there. If it’s bad... Just go home, okay? If it’s bad, Webb’ll call Abby.”