by Zoe Dawson
She was trying to pull down the shoulders of my shirt with a mindless, jerking motion, her fingers tight in the fabric. I let go of her long enough to shrug out of it and to scoot both of us away from the steering wheel. I was never so thankful for the roominess of my truck cab as I was right that second.
She was soft curves and dark hair, strands of it slipping loose and curling along her cheek, over her shoulder. Everything about her got me hot. I didn’t have to move too far forward to cover one of her nipples with my mouth. She gasped, almost a sob, and a huge wave of tension lifted away from me as I just gave myself up to the wonder that was her.
Sweet geezus, this is what I’d wanted, what I’d needed, the part of me that had so desperately wanted Holy Mary Verity Fairchild. Sex, pure and simple and the sweetest thing on earth, her giving it all up for me, her responses triggering my own, the two of us getting lost in each other.
Her hands were in my hair, caressing me so gently, so reverently, just like she’d done that night I had been out of it with fever, curling around my head and holding me against her. I could go a million years and never get enough of the way she touched me. My hands glided over the hot, satiny skin of her back and I sucked her nipple harder, raked it with my teeth, pressing into her with both my mouth and the heel of my hand against her back. She arched, driving her hips and groin onto my aching, throbbing dick.
It was getting way too tight inside. “Jeans,” I mumbled, as if she would know what the fuck I was talking about. And she did. We separated and she trailed her hands down from my head to the waistband of my jeans. “Too tight,” I whispered kissing her collarbone as she unsnapped them. My chest heaved when she grabbed the zipper tab and put pressure on the placard. Her breathing ragged and fast, she pulled down carefully, and as the loosened fabric fell away, I groaned. So good. It felt so damn good.
I’d wanted her so desperately at sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen, when it had been hormones and whatever ideas of love I’d thought at the time.
Tonight the need was more pronounced. She’d already been with me, but, fuck me, I couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. There had always been something there between us. All I wanted from her was a chance to see where it went.
It was hard to imagine that I could ever have come to want her more—but I did.
I wanted to connect with her, mouth to mouth, body to body, mind and heart to mind and heart, to see if she could save me a little, just enough to take the raw edge off my dreams, to take the tension off my mind.
She pushed off my hips and grabbed the waistband of my jeans just like I’d grabbed the straps of her dress. “Lift up, babe,” she said, her eyes going over me, her breathing just as out of control as mine. I dropped my hands to the seat and pushed up, and she stripped my jeans and my underwear off me.
“Oh, God, Boone, you’re so beautiful. Just like I remember.”
Her words were like a light that filled me up to bursting. When she wrapped her hands around me, I closed my eyes, jackknifing up off the seat, crying out, and she caught the sound and took it into her as her mouth covered mine.
I grabbed her around the waist, pulling her across my lap, my hands under that pretty, pretty dress. I snagged the waistband of her panties and pulled them down and off her.
Then I lifted her back up and over me again, my hips twitching at the brush of her skin against my dick.
The need for her was running hard though me, right to the core of me. It was everything I wanted, to have her sweet and naked and all over me, her mouth parted, her legs spread, letting me push up into her, take her, fuck her, make her mine.
It was down to my basic male urge to claim, like my primal nature took control and I was powerless to stop it. Her mouth was hot and wet against me. I needed more. She rolled her hips against me and it was like a lightning bolt shocked me, traveled through my blood like a jolt of electricity and shut down my brain.
She had no idea what she was doing to me, because she did it again, rocked against my dick again, and my hands tightened on her, going to her hips. Slowly, relentlessly, I started pulling up her dress, dragging it up over her ass, because I had to get my hands on her, between her legs.
And when I did, she felt like heaven. She was so wet and soft, my fingers sliding through her silken folds and into her. My kiss got harder, my body pressing against her, and when she groaned, her legs widening, I wanted to take it home. I grasped her hips and whispered, “Take me, Verity. Fucking take me now.”
She reached down and grasped me, guiding me. I rolled my head and pushed up into her, one long, slick slide. Her head fell back and her arms moved around my shoulders, holding on for dear life. Nothing had ever been sweeter than to thrust into her again and again and again.
Her hands were in my hair, and I pumped my hips to meet the slow fall of hers, until she came in a torrent of soft cries and trembling shudders, filling me with the intense, bone-deep satisfaction. I kissed her again, and again, so softly, and she cried out each time as I continued to thrust into her, drawing out her pleasure as long as I could.
“Wrap your legs around me,” I said, carefully repositioning my arms around her and moving myself up to lay her across the seat.
“Verity,” I whispered her name, and as soon as her back and shapely ass hit the seat I was pumping into her again. I lost it then. She was so hot, slick, and I was dying. “Verity…” I ground myself against her with every slow thrust, wanting…wanting…getting so wrapped up, my mouth all over her—unending moment after unending moment, until she gave me all I wanted, her body going liquid beneath mine.
Then what I was waiting for, craving. Her head went back on a groan, and her back arched off the seat. God, I’d never seen anything more beautiful, never felt anything more exquisite than the great sensation of her pulsing and tightening around me, and it undid me. I dropped my head to find her mouth. I was holding her so tight, my arm low around her hips, lifting her to me and my deep, deep thrusts.
She captured my face between her palms, her expression intense. I was almost mindless with the pleasure, but our eyes met then, and I felt the need in her to see me fully engaged. Her gaze held mine so intently, it was as physical a connection as my body pumping into hers, as our kisses. The silence was only broken by our harsh breathing. Verity slipped her hand down to where we were joined and she touched me so gently. The power and essence of our connection intensified, and I groaned when I saw that same emotion reflected in her eyes.
My breath caught, as the agony of the feel-good sensations detonated and then released so fiercely with a hot surge of mind-bending pleasure, I couldn’t hold her gaze. Mine closed as I simply breathed around the wave after wave of sizzling sensations rolling over me.
#
Verity
It was a long while before I could move, before I felt like I was breathing normally again. I reveled in the feel of Boone’s big body heavy on mine, even though he braced his upper chest off me so that I could breathe. I had my arms and my legs still wrapped around him.
When he lifted his head, I met his eyes and smiled. “Reckless sex with a reckless Outlaw. Been there and done that twice.”
He smiled that unruly Outlaw grin, and it made me feel wild enough, lawless enough to rob a train.
“Where did you learn to kiss like that, darlin’?” he said, not moving a muscle, still deep inside me.
“I had this really great, hot teacher. He really knew how to kiss. I melted every time.”
He stiffened and frowned. “I fucking don’t like the sound of that. Who is this fucker?!”
I giggled and he frowned harder. “Why? So you can punch his lights out? I’d really like to get a few more sessions of instruction.”
“Goddammit, Verity. Who the hell is it?”
“It’s you, Boone, you idiot.”
“Oh? Oh! Dammit.” He laughed. “You sassing me?”
“A little. You’re the only boy…um…man I’ve ever kissed.”
“No shit,” h
e said. He gave me a sly look. “I’m a damn good teacher.”
“Yes, you are. You deserve an apple, several actually.”
He sobered and looked away from me and my stomach dropped a little bit. I could tell to the exact second when Boone was going to get all honest on me. It was something about his body language, in his eyes.
“I can’t say the same thing,” he said. “In fact, I had sex with Marcy the night I found you and Billy Joe fighting on the road.”
That scored my insides, but I deserved it. I hadn’t been exactly sweet to Boone. I suspected Marcy had been more about comfort than anything else. But I was still jealous. I didn’t want anyone touching my Boone except me.
“To hell with Marcy what’s-her-name. What is her damn name? Oh, never mind. I don’t care.” I was silent as I looked at him, and he looked worried, like maybe I was going to change my mind about him. “But you weren’t really with her?”
He said nothing, just held my gaze for the longest moment. Then he took my hand and pulled it to his mouth. He closed his eyes and kissed the center of my palm. “How did you know that?”
I brushed my thumb over his lips. “I don’t know. Guess I saw it in your eyes there for a minute.”
He wrapped his hand around mine as he looked down into my eyes, his own an almost impossible cobalt blue now through the thick fringe of his dark lashes. “I was thinking about you.” His voice was husky and earnest. “I always think about you. It was your body I was holding. You I was kissing. She was using me, too. She called me Booker.” He winced.
“Ouch, snap to the ego.” I reached up and ran the backs of my fingers over his rough, sexy cheek then I pressed a kiss to his damp skin.
“Maybe she got you mixed up. A lot of people got you mixed up.”
“I think she has a thing for Booker, but Breebree has that locked up.”
“Breebree?”
He smiled like a little boy and my heart just went liquid as his lashes swept over his eyes. He blushed and the rest of me dissolved into goo. “It’s what I call Aubree.”
“Oh, Boone,” I said, pushing at the silky hair across his brow, my tone as soft as the feelings melting my insides.
He dipped down and nuzzled my neck. “Did you get us mixed up?”
“No. I would know you if there were a thousand carbon copies.”
His arm tightened around me, his fingertips slipping into my hair. I pressed my lips against the damp, heated skin of his neck, a soft sweet kiss, and when I felt him kiss my hair, I kissed him again, drawing my mouth closer to the hard edge of his jaw, before rubbing against his cheek. I said, “I’m sorry I slapped you, sugar.”
He turned his face, whispering, “I love it when you call me sugar,” And met my lips with his own.
And that black hole closed just a bit more.
We kissed, softly, silently, ardently. The way he kissed me slaked my hunger for him like nothing else ever could. Nothing.
“I was pushing you. To be honest, I was desperate to find out why you were so mad at me. I didn’t want you to be mad. I wanted you like this. I wanted you talking to me and getting inside me. That’s what I wanted.”
I sighed. “I don’t blame you for being with Marcy. I was so mean to you. I hurt you, and it hurt to be that way. Can you forgive me?”
“I can, and there will be no more Marcy. That I can promise.”
The honesty in his voice and eyes put any small niggling doubt I had about Marcy to rest. She still pissed me off, but, Boone was mine. I knew that. I just didn’t know what I was going to do about him and about my secret. How could we make this work? So much was against us, starting with my dreams and commitments.
It was a relief to know I wasn’t alone in reeling from the magnitude of what I’d felt happening between us—even if I couldn’t define it. And even though it posed a threat to what little sense of self I was holding onto when it came to beautiful Boone Outlaw, I still had no idea what would happen, or what I was going to do.
“As much as I would like to lie here with your gorgeous body on top of mine, we’d better get going. You don’t want to be late. I’ve distracted you enough.”
“Apparently, my gorgeous body has a mind of its own.”
He groaned when I shifted, and I realized that Boone was thickening, hardening inside me. It was the most incredible feeling, knowing that I turned him on so much that he couldn’t even pull out of me. And, as he thrust, I just surrendered myself to him.
It was another half an hour before we were back on the road. His meeting with his client went off without a hitch. I was just as blown away by his design for her English garden as I had been with all his other work.
By the time we got back to the church, it was just before lunch. As we approached the rectory, I heard a little voice call out with excitement.
“Boone! Look at me.”
It was Henry. He was on the monkey bars and he was trying to go across by himself. He was much too little. Almost before I registered the danger, Boone took off. He vaulted over the fence one-armed, not even sparing the time it would take to open the gate.
My breath caught in my throat at his power and speed. Henry was already slipping, and I gasped as he started to fall. But Boone leapt and caught him in his arms, hitting the ground hard, but he had already wrapped his big arms around Henry to protect him and take the brunt of the impact.
Boone sat up, his face a mask of fear and concern. He hissed, “Henry! That was reckless! You could have gotten really hurt!”
Henry started to cry, and for a moment Boone just sat there, then he sighed and the fear and concern subsided. He hugged Henry to him. “I’m sorry I was harsh, but I was scared for you.”
“I’m sorry, Boone. I was trying to be a big boy and show you how strong I am.”
“It’s okay, Henry, but you need to be a little more careful.”
Lindsay came over and Boone lifted Henry up to her arms. He stood and brushed himself off just as a flatbed truck pulled up.
I looked at Boone and he smiled.
“What is this?” I asked.
“You’ll see. Go help with lunch, and then you can come back out and see what Deke and I have in store.”
I stepped up to him and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Just a quick lunch, then.”
He smiled at me, part Outlaw and part sly dog.
“You are full of surprises.”
He grabbed my arm before I could go into the rectory and whispered, “It’s been one of the best days of my life.” Then the blond guy approached and Boone turned to him.
“You ready, boss?”
Boone huffed out an exasperated breath. “I told you….”
“Hi, I’m Deke.”
“Verity Fairchild.”
His twinkling blue eyes went between the two of us and he grinned. “Yes, you are.”
“Deke. Cut it out,” Boone growled.
I just laughed and walked into the rectory.
Chapter Eleven
Boone
The temperature had risen quite a bit by the time we got all the pieces off the flatbed.
“Did you bring the tools?”
“Yep,” Deke said and reached into the truck cab. He chucked the tool bag at me and I caught it. “And, put this on to cut the sun.” He tossed me a baseball cap.
I settled the cap over my head. I still couldn’t believe I had blurted that stuff out about Marcy. I guess I didn’t want anything between us as we felt our way forward. I wanted to understand what was happening here with Verity. The beginning of the week she had been so angry at me and, I had to take a calming breath, we’d been having mind-blowingly intense sex in the cab of my truck a couple of hours ago.
I still couldn’t fully believe it hadn’t been a dream, but it hadn’t. It had been real. As real as the way Verity had fit over me, taken me, and wrung me out.
I walked over to the play equipment. I had noticed when I started to do my sketches and work out my plan for the church that the day care
center play equipment was really old. I had tightened up a few bolts, but then realized that wasn’t going to handle the load.
“What you’re doing here is really good, Boone. Your designs are going to make these kids crazy.”
“That’s the plan, but it’ll be so much safer for them. That’s the ultimate plan.”
Deke smiled. “It’s a good one.”
Verity came out of the rectory with two bottles of water and eyed the tarp-wrapped bundle on the ground. “What’s going on here?”
“Changing out the play equipment. This stuff is old and rickety and not safe.”
“Can I help?”
“Sure,” I said, then eyed her dress. “You might want to change. I wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty dress.”
She took a long breath in and out, both of us remembering…everything.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, trailing her hand over mine. I loved the way she wanted to touch me every time she got close.
I turned to Deke. “Deke.” When he turned around from disassembling the slide, I tossed him a bottle of water.
“You’ve got it bad, my friend.”
We both drank.
“Shut the fuck up, Deke.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Son of a bitch! Deke…”
He just chuckled and started back on the slide.
It wasn’t long before Verity was back in a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that had seen better days. It had a rip on the hem and paint splatters all over it. She looked adorable. She was also carrying a notebook and an iPad like mine, but then she ducked into the rectory for a few minutes and came back out empty-handed.
I handed her the tool bag, my eyes going over her sweet, beautiful face. I didn’t think I would ever get enough of just looking at her. “We’re going to break all this stuff down.”
She tugged on the bag. “Before we do that, you’ll have to let go of the bag.”