And he did.
Peter filled her, Neva thought. Not just his length and his girth, but his presence in her life. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, tracing the lines that rippled and formed under her fingertips as he pressed into her, then released, then pressed in again.
“I don’t want to go too fast,” he said roughly, stroking her hair from the side of her face. “I want to make this last for you.”
She arched her back, gasping. Reaching. Pulling him closer, tightening herself around him—in all ways.
“Neva…”
“I want it hard and I want it fast. Slow can happen on Round Two.”
“Glad to know you’re planning ahead.”
“Stop talking. You’re wasting calories.”
He chuckled at the word she tossed at him, words he’d said to her only two days before when he’d run through the apple orchard in the rain, carrying her in his strong, capable arms.
“If that what the lady wants…”
“That’s what the lady needs. Now take me!”
Peter more than obliged. He responded to her demand in a primal, fully male way, giving in to his own need to thrust. She met him, motion for motion, gasp for gasp, moan for moan, urging him forward. God, he was good. This was good.
Arching her back, she exposed her neck to him, which he bit and then licked even as harsh pants escaped from his mouth.
“God, Neva…”
Starving for him, she ripped her hands off his back and shoved her fingers into his hair, scraping her nails against his scalp. She kissed him, long and hard and deep, breathing in his harsh exhales as if his breath were the stuff of life.
Her climax was building, that she knew, as was his. Didn’t matter, though—she didn’t need to draw this out. Not this time. Not now. Now was about her and Peter wiping away the past that separated them.
Now was about moving forward.
Now was about the two of them exploding into a million pieces and watching the pieces fall from the sky to reform who they were. Who they’d become.
“Now!” she cried out in ecstasy.
Any sex with Peter was fabulous, Neva had discovered after spending the night with Peter, but morning sex was simply sublime, she thought as an orgasm washed over her and took her to dizzying heights.
She gasped, panted, and writhed around, gripping the sheet with shaking hands until Peter popped his head up from under the covers. Grinning, he waited until she returned to the land of the living.
“Was that good?”
She laughed breathlessly. “What, are you fishing for compliments?”
“Nah, I know I’m excellent.”
“That you are.”
Peter kissed her belly, then her breasts, then edged forward close enough to plant a quick soft kiss on the tip of her nose. He flopped onto his back, plumped the pillows behind his head, and leaned against the headboard, one arm around her and the other behind his head.
Neva rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat, the sound reassuring.
“So, Farmer Girl—”
“Farmer Girl? Must you call me that?”
He twined a strand of hair around his finger. “I never knew farmers could be so sexy.”
“It’s the short cut-offs. You just like my legs,” she teased.
“And your ass. Actually, I really like your ass. It’s the first thing I noticed when I saw you, actually, through the binoculars.”
A laugh burst out of her mouth. “You were spying on me?”
“More like making sure no one was stealing my water. We’re in a drought, you know,” he said reasonably.
“And there I was, stealing your water.” She grinned, then frowned. “Speaking of, I do need to actually be a farmer girl today. The chores are calling and I should get going.”
“Positive you need to go to work?”
“My preference would be to spend the day in bed with you, but I need to—”
“Don’t tell me, plow the back forty?”
“Um, weed the beets, actually. Plus, the owner of the restaurant chain I have my big contract with is stopping by to check out the produce. And the apples,” she added.
Peter stroked her shoulder, the touch soft and gentle. “From Maude’s orchard?”
“I can’t thank you enough for signing the lease, Peter. I know you wanted me to wait until your aunt was back in town. I’m grateful you changed your mind.”
“No problem,” he said. “Did you look it over?”
“Not yet. Why?”
He kissed the top of her head. “I extended the lease to five, not three years.”
“Really? Even though you didn’t get a single date with my sister?” she teased.
“You’re not serious, right? You know damn well Carla and I set that whole thing up, about you giving me tips on how to win her over. That was supposed to be the Grand Plan.”
“Yeah,” Neva laughed. “After last night, I figured something had to been going on.”
“I did rather well at failing in implementing your tips, didn’t I?” he said proudly.
“Oh my god, I’m so relieved you were faking. By the way, what the heck is a mage?”
“I have no clue what I was talking about on that one. I ran into Jacob Bullard, that kid who works at Delilah’s, and he told me some long-winded story about his online video role-laying game. I repeated some of what he said. But to be clear, I do not,” he said with mock seriousness, “play video games.”
“But you don’t like women with big earlobes. Or women whose teeth are too shiny. I mean, really, who tells a woman her earlobes are too big?”
“I knew you were pretending to be your sister from the moment I saw you. I wanted to see how far I could take my fake seduction before you broke character.”
She nestled closer and stroked his chest with a fingertip. “I’m still not quite sure why you put that plan into play, but I know you had your reasons.”
“Your sister knew I was nuts about you. She and I cooked up this crazy idea. I would pretend to come onto her and she would pretend to enthralled and would ask me out. I’d make a big deal about rejecting her and would proclaim my affection for you.”
“And I would finally believe you weren’t interested Carla, and for good reason. And that I’d believe you when you said you wanted me.”
“Pretty much. Bad idea?” he asked.
“I can’t say it isn’t without merit… But really, Peter, it was all a bit ridiculous.”
“Hey—you ended up in my bed, right?”
“There is that.” Neva sat up and glanced at the clock. “But time waits for no farmer girl, and I need to get to work.”
“And I have an all-day training session I’m supposed to be leading down at the fire station, which starts in a half hour.” He reached for her and caressed her breasts.
“Peter! We won’t have time!”
Apparently, that didn’t matter to Peter.
Or to Neva.
The bed squeaked, the clock ticked, and as Peter sank into her, Neva drifted back into heaven.
An hour later, Neva felt the heady euphoria brought about by the two-orgasm morning with Peter (and the three-orgasm night) start to fade, the heat in her body replaced by a cold sense of worry.
She stood in the beet field with Morris Brannan, the owner of the chain of organic restaurants in the Sacramento Valley, who was pointing out something in the contract. Something she hadn’t realized was there.
“Our order for your produce is contingent on you supplying us apples,” he said. “It’s the same standing order we’ve had with this farm for the last ten years. The orchard next door is one hundred percent organic—we don’t want to spend time vetting a new supplier.”
“I didn’t realize,” she said. Thank God Peter had signed the lease. Even better, he’d extended the contract for five years. What a relief. Without the orchard, she would have lost the most lucrative contract she had. Well
, the only contract she had. For this year, at any rate. Diversify, diversify, diversify, she chanted a mental reminder. She’d do things differently next year.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Morris asked. “Farming is a lot of work for little lady.”
Neva struggled to keep in check the anger that leaped into her chest. “I’m afraid my beauty queen twin sister is the one who was the ‘lady’ in my family.”
“Not identical, right? I mean, if she’s a beauty queen and all,” Morris said with a mocking smile.
You’re a jerk was what Neva wanted to say, fighting to keep from glancing down at her muddy knees. Instead, she put on her best Tipton fake smile—her mother would have been so proud. “We’re as different as two peas in a pod.”
Her sarcasm was lost on the man, who still seemed unconvinced.
“You don’t need to worry,” she added, using a more reassuring tone. “I’ve been working on farms since my senior year in high school and I majored in agriculture in college. I’m strong, I love the earth, and I can’t imagine doing anything other than this. And I’ll always deliver the produce on time. Including the apples.” Morris seemed unimpressed, but Neva didn’t much care.
Once her client left, she went to work weeding the beets…and dreaming of Peter. Well, to be honest, she had multiple sexual fantasies over the man. And got herself all hot and bothered in the middle of her garden. But really, how could she not?
The sex had been fantastic. Orgasmic—multiply orgasmic—and for both of them. He’d been a thorough lover, tending to all her special spots, shocking her with his…uh…attention to detail. She’d reciprocated in kind, leaving him limp and exhausted and falling asleep with a smile on his face.
Until he’d woken her up and they’d gone for another round.
Why had she let her insecurities over her sister get into her head all those years ago? She and Peter could have—
She shoved the thought out of her mind. No sense in going there. The paths they’d taken years before were solidified, set in stone. There could be no turning back the clock. They could only forward. At least, for the next two weeks—well, eleven days, if one was counting—until Peter left town.
Before he’d taken off for his workshop and she’d headed home, they’d agreed to a date for tonight—he’d pick her up at six and treat her to a platter full of the Goldpan Pub’s ribs, which he swore up and down were the best on the planet. Neva thought they should eat said ribs in bed, or not eat at all and simply stay in bed feasting off each other, but she figured she’d keep that thought to herself. The man clearly needed sustenance.
Carla hadn’t been in the house when Neva tiptoed in, but there were signs her sister had stayed the night. A cereal bowl was in the sink, a damp towel dropped on the bathroom floor, and the guest bed was mussed and rumpled. If Carla was going to stay another two weeks, they needed to hash some stuff out.
Ground rules about cleaning and maintenance was priority.
Not that her sister would be living at her place for long. Carla didn’t know the value of a day’s work, and Neva wasn’t about to put up with someone who wouldn’t pull her own weight.
Or who stole her men, but who was counting?
She buckled down to hoe the beets with renewed energy, intent on eradicating her resentment that had built at the reminder of the past. Soon, the anger dissipated but her muscles screamed and sweat ran in rivulets down her back and front, but she felt great. Fabulous. Amazing what being in control of one’s own destiny could do for one’s psyche, mind, and body. And she loved the earth up here in Meadowview. Most people never thought much of dirt, but this dirt was beautiful—rich and loamy and full of nutrients. The former owners, the Hendricksons, had amended the soil well, balancing out the area’s natural propensity for an excess of copper.
Here, the earth was good.
Here, life would be good.
Even after Peter and Carla took off.
Something sharp twisted inside her chest. The sensation confused her, and she struggled to make sense of why the shimmer of her dream had suddenly dulled.
Then she realized what had caused that dullness…that empty sensation.
“Damn,” she whispered. She’d bought this farm out in the middle of nowhere, moved to Meadowview—the capital of nowhere—all with the intent of being alone. Because she liked being alone. Liked not having family or social events or the expectations of others shoved at her and permeating her life. This was the life she’d chosen.
So why was she feeling so lonely?
Peter was on edge all day, but it was a good edge. He had to admit to feeling a bit like an idiot, because he found himself coming close to breaking out in song throughout the day and he wore a smile that he couldn’t seem to remember to wipe away. Neva had done that to him—turned him into a blithering idiot, like something out of a Disney movie. It took all he had to keep his focus on the all-day training he was running and ignore the sideways glances from his crew, Jory, Amber, Malcolm, and Gary. The only slightly dark spot on his date was when Jack Gibson’s wife, Lia, came into the station to pick up something for her husband, Jack.
Seeing Lia always brought back that sharp jab of guilt. Didn’t matter that she didn’t hold him accountable for the near disaster she’d experienced, he did. He should have done better by her.
Funny, but after sleeping with Neva, he’d had a few faint thoughts of sticking around Meadowview. But seeing Lia reminded him of the decision he’d made the night Lia had almost died: as soon as his contract was to come up, he’d be done as a firefighter. The world beckoned—adventures were to be had, and none of them in Meadowview. He was about to embark on his destiny, and nothing, even a good woman, would keep him from heading out of town.
Training complete, he headed out of the fire station, ready to go home and get ready for his date with Neva. Just the thought of her made his pulse race. Last night—and this morning—had been out of this world. She’d had nothing to worry about when it came to sex. Whatever insecurities her parents had instilled in her about her appeal to men were completely unjustified.
Neva was sexy as hell.
And he was about to have her again.
Maybe they could skip dinner.
When he arrived home, he was dismayed to see Brat back on his porch. The young thing needed to make it on his own and stop trying to befriend Peter.
“You have everything you need right over there,” he said, pointing to the orchard and pond. “My porch isn’t your home. Maybe you should find a girl porcupine.”
Brat made a snuffling sound and came closer.
“I don’t want you to become dependent on humans,” Peter added. “You won’t be able to make it in the wild.” That wasn’t what would happen to Brat—not on Peter’s watch. “Time to go, kiddo.” He waved his arms in the air. “Shoo!”
“Murphgh,” Brat replied, coming closer, rather nonplussed by Peter’s fake aggression. He sat at Peter’s feet and nuzzled his boots, on the hunt for the leather laces. With a defense system designed to scare off even mountain lions, porcupines weren’t afraid of much. Clearly, even at such a young age, this one wasn’t afraid of Peter. Quite the opposite.
“Have it your way.” He didn’t have time to figure out what to do with the overly friendly quill ball. He had a date to plan. He backed away slowly and headed inside. There, he kicked his boots off at the door. Upstairs, in the shower, he let the water sluice over him as thoughts of Neva drifted through his mind.
Eleven days. They would have eleven more days to make sweet, sweet love. Well, have sex. Love wasn’t a part of the deal. He didn’t care what they called it—they’d be together, entwined in each other’s arms, in each other’s beds, or even elsewhere. He’d have her—all of her. And then he’d walk away…exactly the way Neva wanted.
Neva nudged a couple of hens out of the way as she put the hoe back in its place in the barn. More hens clustered around her feet—the afternoon had given way to early evening and the gi
rls were cranky and hungry. So was Neva. Hungry, that is. And a little cranky, too, she realized.
Why, though? Her day had started off fantastic and had melted into exactly what she wanted, what she liked: digging in the dirt, working with her hands, tending to her crops. She loved what she did. So why the Lil’ Miss Cranky Pants, she wondered?
Lack of food, she realized. Low blood sugar was getting to her. Maybe she shouldn’t have worked through lunch. As she scattered a bucketful of chicken scratch, she hoped Peter wouldn’t think she was unladylike if she chowed down an entire plate of ribs. A memory of her mother’s response to her request for a second helping echoed in her mind:
“Elegant ladies eat only half a serving,” she’d said.
“No man will ever want a woman who eats like a hog,” she’d said.
“Please be more ladylike and dainty, like your sister,” she’d said.
Screw that. Neva would eat the whole hog, and if Peter found that offensive, he could take his sexual needs into his own hands.
Heading to the house, in desperate need to pee, take a shower, and primp (slightly) for her upcoming date, she furrowed her brow when she saw a brand-new cobalt blue Lexus in her driveway. Clearly Carla was back, and with a man in tow.
She stepped inside to hear the shower running. Anger flooded her system—was her sister “entertaining” a man in her own shower? If so, who? And who in Meadowview would own a Lexus? Most of the vehicles Neva had seen in Meadowview had been practical—all-wheel drives, 4-wheel drives, trucks with king cabs and trucks with long beds. SUVs with child seats in the back. The most frivolous vehicles were a few old-timey VW bugs and older sedans.
“Carla!” She pounded on the door. “Who’s in there with you?”
“Heya, Neva!” her sister called out cheerfully, her voice rising over the sound of the water spray. “I’m alone, silly.”
Neva cast a glance at the clock. She had an hour to get ready for her date with Peter. Plenty of time to shower and throw on a fresh set of clothes.
“Hurry it up,” she grumbled.
“Ten minutes, that’s all.”
Charming the One: (Meadowview Heroes # 3) (The Meadowview Series Book 7) Page 16