The Lake dining room in candlelight, and Caroline standing there, lighting the last of the candles, the warm glow turning her skin the palest of ivories. She was beautiful beyond his wildest dreams, shiny golden red hair up so he could admire the long curve of her white neck, dressed in some elegant black dress that seemed designed specifically to show off her small waist and pale shoulders. Jack had never dared even dream that one day he’d be in Greenbriars with Caroline waiting for him with a smile—yet here he was, and there she was.
And when she’d invited him into the living room—Jesus. It was like some magnificent wheel of fortune turning full circle. Life had been incredibly brutal to him his first eighteen years of life. The lowest point of his life had been when he’d stood on the other side of that window, the one right there behind Caroline. The one he was close enough to touch.
He’d been a starving, homeless half boy, half beast in rags, staring hungrily at a life he couldn’t even begin to fathom. He could barely imagine being on the same planet as the otherworldly creatures he had watched through the glass while shivering in the snow. Such beautiful people in such a beautiful room.
And then the wheel of fortune had turned. He’d been found by the Colonel, adopted and given everything his hungry soul ached for—love, discipline, purpose. He, the penniless boy had even, in the end, turned into a wealthy man.
And now that wheel of fortune had turned again, richly, plunging him straight into the land of his dreams.
He was on the other side of that window, now. Not the beggar boy with his nose pressed against the glass, but the man inside the room with Caroline.
Carefully, touching her only by her material-clad elbow, he nudged her closer to him. He himself didn’t dare move. He felt like a big bar of C4 with the detonator cap in place. One wrong move, and he’d ignite and explode.
No, she had to come to him. And she was, too. Carefully watching him out of huge, troubled eyes, she obeyed his touch and stepped forward until her feet stood between his, and the tips of her breasts touched his chest.
Jack had no idea what she was thinking. She didn’t look consumed with desire for him. If anything she looked sad and lost. Something would have to be done to change that because that wasn’t what he wanted from her in bed.
Slowly, carefully, he bent down to her and brushed her lips with his. Her mouth was cold—she was like a beautiful marble statue. He lifted his head, let his eyes roam over that lovely face, then fit his mouth over hers again, a little more firmly. She watched him, gaze troubled, until the very last second, then her eyes finally fluttered closed.
Beneath the light eye shadow, he could see the thin tracery of delicate blue veins under the pale skin. He touched his lips to her eyelids, then moved over to kiss the soft skin of her temple, feeling the silky strands of hair tickling his cheek.
Her skin was a little warmer now. That marble statue was slowly turning into a human woman. He touched his lips to hers once more, a little more firmly, opening her mouth with his just enough to get one quick, heady taste of her with his tongue.
She tasted like heaven—chocolate and coffee and the wine they’d had for dinner. He could easily get drunk on her taste. He dipped his tongue in her mouth again briefly, then withdrew and lifted his head.
“Oh!” Caroline breathed, looking slightly surprised, as if a kiss were an unexpected thing. The tip of her tongue appeared and touched her lower lip, as if to taste him.
His cock throbbed at the sight, lifting and lengthening at each pass of her small tongue over that softly pink, luscious mouth. His hard-on had no place to go, trying uselessly to rise beneath the heavy denim. It fucking hurt. Jack wondered if he was doing himself some lasting damage. Could cocks break?
Every cell in his body was screaming at him to get inside her as fast as possible, but he couldn’t. Not yet. There was too great a difference in their levels of desire. He was over the top, more excited than he’d ever been in his life, and Caroline—Caroline was clearly still unsure, though she was the one who’d spoken the words that had put things in motion.
Jack had to remember that what she’d actually said was I don’t want to be alone tonight.
What she hadn’t said was—I want you to tear all my clothes off me, pin me to the ground, open my legs, and fuck me half to death.
No, that wasn’t at all what she’d said, and it was a real pity because that’s what he felt like doing.
He had one shot at this—one. If he fucked up tonight, he’d never get another chance. If he got too rough, if he scared her, hurt her in any way, she’d toss him out on his ass. The one thing that shone through in Caroline was a weary, wary pride. She hadn’t let any of the circumstances of her life beat her down. She wasn’t going to put up with someone who scared her, or treated her roughly, not even if she desperately needed the money from a boarder.
Watching her eyes carefully, he bent his head again. This time the kiss was warmer, and her pretty mouth was already open for him. At the touch of her tongue to his, he jerked away as his cock surged. God, he’d nearly come in his pants.
He had to cool himself down a little; otherwise, this wasn’t going to work.
He ran the back of his forefinger down her cheek, marveling at the satiny smoothness.
A deep breath, then he said what had to be said. “Caroline—I don’t want to sound unromantic, but I don’t have protection for us. I haven’t had sex for over half a year and I don’t have anything with me. Please tell me you’ve got something here.”
Shit, it hadn’t even occurred to him on the flights over. Normally, Jack always had rubbers with him. Most of his sex life was one-night stands—or maybe two- or even three-night stands when he liked the woman enough—so he was always prepared. But he’d come home straight from that hellhole, Afghanistan, the world’s largest no-sex zone. Even if he managed to get turned on by women covered with rugs, the certain knowledge that any sex partner of his would likely be stoned to death in retaliation was a real turnoff. Sex never even crossed his mind in Afghanistan.
He’d come home to the dying Colonel, who’d sent him on his last mission, to Africa. Jack never fucked in Africa. Never.
So here he was, with literally the woman of his dreams asking him for sex—or at least that’s what he hoped she’d asked for—and he was without rubbers, for the first time in his adult life.
Fuck. If he’d known this could happen, he’d have come equipped with ten boxes.
Caroline blinked, as if coming out of a trance. “Protection? What do you—oh!” Her hand covered her mouth. “How stupid of me. Of course—condoms! Oh my gosh, no, I don’t have any condoms in the house. It’s been way longer than six months for me. More like six years. In fact, it’s been so long I’ve probably forgotten how. In fact,” she continued stepping slightly back, watching his eyes, “if you decide to change your mind, I totally understand.”
“No!” It came out almost a shout and she winced. Jack felt sweat trickle down his back. “No,” he said again, more softly, working to make his tone normal through the sudden tightness in his chest. “Look, we can do without a rub—a condom. I can be careful.” I hope, he thought.
He’d always had complete control over his cock, though right now he was holding on to that control by his fingernails.
Caroline was silent, looking him up and down. She was struggling with something, and he gave her the time to do it. “You look healthy,” she said finally.
He blinked. “Absolutely.”
Healthy? Well, yeah. He couldn’t be more healthy. Right now, in fact, his rude good health was practically bursting through his pants. “Outside of injuries, I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”
She had turned a light shade of pink. “Because, um…well, the story’s this. I was under a lot of stress this fall. My brother was very ill, and I was so worried I sometimes forgot to eat and—” She stopped suddenly, her pretty mouth closing with a snap, as if realizing she was babbling. “Well, the upshot is that my doct
or put me on the pill,” she said finally. “So we could—”
Whatever else she was going to say was lost in his mouth. Jack plunged both hands into her hair, to cradle her skull and hold her still for his kiss. Deeper, hotter than before. He licked his tongue inside her, dying for her taste, holding her head tightly as he angled his head for a deeper taste of her.
Her hands came up to curl around his wrists as he continued kissing her, almost desperately. He dropped a hand down to her narrow waist and pulled her tightly against him, widening his stance to bring her closer. She jerked a little as she came flat up against his rigid cock. Jack broke the kiss though he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay here forever, his tongue in her mouth.
If it were up to him, they’d drop where they were, right onto the hardwood floor. He wouldn’t even strip her. Just rip a hole in her stockings and panties and shove his cock right into a cunt that would be as warm and wet as her mouth…
Jack groaned. He opened his eyes to look down at her lovely face. Her mouth was wet and slightly swollen from his, a light flush along her cheekbones. His hands had torn her hairdo apart, and her hair lay in gleaming ringlets along her shoulders. Her hair was the color of the red-gold flames in the hearth. He was vaguely surprised that her hair felt cool to the touch, the color was so like bright golden flames. The skull beneath the hair was warm, though. The rest of her was warm, too, now—finally. His arms were full of warm, willing woman.
His arms were full of Caroline.
He had to fight to keep his breathing under control.
They were going to fuck. It was official. He was going to fuck Caroline. Bareback, no less. He’d never had sex without a rubber in his life. The way he felt right now, he was probably going to die of sensory overload the instant he entered her.
“I think we’d better take this into the bedroom.” His voice sounded hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in days.
Her eyes searched his. “Okay,” she whispered. “The bedroom.”
Oh, yeah.
The quickest way to get her to bed was to carry her. He swung her easily up in his arms and tried not to run for the stairs.
He had the instincts of a cat. He’d done a lot of mountaineering with the Colonel and in the Rangers, and he had superb balance. But when he held her in his arms, he felt his knees nearly buckle. It was insane. She couldn’t weigh more than 115 pounds. Going into battle he’d carried more weight than that in gear. Hell, he’d jumped out of planes carrying more weight than that. But it was as if a fever affected his system, making him weak and shaky.
He needed to get them to bed, fast, before he toppled to the floor with her and made a fool of himself.
Jack took the stairs two at a time and turned right at the landing. Lucky thing her bedroom door was open because he would have kicked it down if it wasn’t.
Putting a boot through her door was probably not a good way to start this.
Jack stopped by the bed and let her slide slowly down his body. She had to feel his hard-on, quivering with eagerness, leaping at the contact with her body. Probably people across town could feel his hard-on. He was probably interrupting radio reception with the waves of lust emanating from his cock.
What was she feeling? He couldn’t tell. Caroline stood quietly, passively, like a beautiful little doll, not moving from where he put her down.
For the very first time in his life, Jack wished women could be more like men. He wished Caroline had the female equivalent of a cock that would show him what she was feeling, show him how much she desired him. If she desired him.
He wanted something big and obvious like a stiff dick, to signal clearly what was going on inside her—like maybe a red light on her forehead that blinked on and off.
But women weren’t like that. Their bodies were secretive, the arousal tucked away inside where you couldn’t see, hidden away in the recesses of their bodies.
The only way he could know what point she was at would be to touch her cunt, run his fingers around her opening, probe her.
Jesus, what if she wasn’t turned on? What if she wasn’t very wet? What would he do then? He already knew she’d be tight. A woman who hadn’t had sex for six years would be small.
It might be a problem. God, he hoped not.
He had a big cock. It wasn’t anything he was particularly proud of, it just was. Since he wasn’t the kind of man to compare dicks in locker rooms, he didn’t get any bragging rights about it. He just took it as a physical fact that pertained to him, like being tall. But his size and the fact that he was as turned on as he’d ever been in his life meant he’d have to be careful with her, though his self-control was shredding, turning more insubstantial by the minute.
Like right now, looking at her in the dim light of the bedroom. He’d left the lights in the corridor on, but hadn’t turned on any lights in the bedroom, so it was as if they were underwater in a faraway ocean.
The first thing anyone noticed about Caroline was her coloring, which was exquisite—from the ivory rose of her skin to the golden fire of her hair and the silver-blue of her eyes. Now she was leached of all color, a vision in shades of gray in the soft, dim light. It didn’t detract from her beauty. If anything, it highlighted her pale, smooth skin and delicate bone structure. Her eyes were pale, almost colorless, as she watched him.
What was she thinking? He couldn’t tell. Her features were still, like a portrait of a beautiful woman instead of the living woman herself.
He was holding her by the shoulders, feeling the delicate bone structure beneath the soft silk of her dress. He moved his hand to the back of her dress, tugging on the tab of the zipper, pulling it down. It sounded loud in the silence of the room. He unzipped slowly, trying to gauge from her expression what she was feeling. The zipper ran to below the waist. Caroline stood as still as a doll while he opened the back of her dress.
With a slight movement of his hand, Jack had his palm inside the parted material, resting against the small of her back, where the skin was smooth and warm. Exerting a little pressure with his hand, he urged her forward.
Watching him, she obeyed the silent touch and stepped forward. She had to tilt her head back and as he looked down, he marveled at what life had brought him. Her eyes weren’t blue but silver in this light, wide moons he could drown in. Her mouth was slightly open, and her breathing was fast. He could feel the little puffs of air of her breath against his throat. She moved an inch closer to him, without his having to press against her back.
Yes!
He bent his head to her, stopping when she put a small hand to his chest.
“What?” he whispered, nearly in a panic. She wasn’t stopping him, was she? If this was a no, he was going to howl at the moon. He was swollen with longing for her. Not being inside her as quickly as possible was unthinkable. If he couldn’t slake his lust for her right now, it would probably cause him a permanent injury, leaving him hobbled for life.
“How did you know which room was my bedroom?” she asked softly.
Oh fuck.
This was precisely the kind of mistake that could get you killed in the field. Jack had been undercover in dangerous places and with dangerous people. Keeping your cover story straight was a life or death necessity. Fuck it up and you die.
He controlled his breathing and gently removed her hand from his chest. His heart had given a huge leap at her words. He hoped she hadn’t felt it. He was thinking frantically, trying to will some blood back up into his head so he could reason it out. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Each time he touched her skin, it was a little shock to feel how incredibly soft it was.
She was looking up at him, unsmiling, waiting.
Jack pasted a sheepish smile on his face. “By smell.”
Caroline blinked. “By…I beg your pardon?”
“I have a very keen sense of smell.” It was true. He could smell explosives almost as well as the Labradors the service used. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone, down over the
long line of her neck. He bent his head and kissed her under her ear, sniffing loudly, like a dog. “You smell wonderful,” he whispered. “Like roses and heaven. I just followed my nose. The whole house smells a little like you, though there are food smells in the kitchen and dining room and the living room smells of lemon polish and woodsmoke.
“But this room—it smells like you and only you. I stopped where the smell was strongest.”
He’d pleased her. She smiled uncertainly. “That’s nice. I wonder whether maybe soldiers should use smell to orient themselves instead of compasses.”
He ran the back of his forefinger down her cheek, along the delicate jawbone, then fingered the neckline of her dress. “We do. Soldiers use their sense of smell a lot. I wouldn’t let my men smoke for two days before going on a mission, for example.” He bent and nuzzled his nose against the soft skin under her ear. “Though I must admit, I’ve never smelled anything half as nice in the Army as you.”
He could feel her lips turn up in a real smile against his cheek.
She was more relaxed now and tilted her head slightly so he could touch his lips to her neck. Jack realized she must have sensed his intense lust and been a little fearful. The fact that he could make a little joke, however lame, reassured her. Made her think he wouldn’t lose control.
He hoped to God she was right.
If this hadn’t been his own personal fantasy, if she were less beautiful, less desirable, it would be better. As it was, Jack knew his self-control wouldn’t last much longer. If he were a gentleman, he’d take his time with her. Sit on the bed with her, talk to her, make sure she was relaxed. Calm her down. Spend a long time on foreplay. Make slow, careful love. That’s what a gentleman would do.
Pity he wasn’t a gentleman. The Colonel had drummed manners in him, and they’d stuck, but it was a thin veneer. He was by nature a predator, designed by blood to prevail no matter what.
Added to that was the fact that his biological father had been a nasty, brutal drunk and, knowing his father’s tastes in women, his mother had probably been a whore. The Colonel’s courtly ideas swirled in his head, but his father’s blood ran in his veins.
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