When It's Right

by Jennifer Ryan

  “Show me.” Gillian felt full for the first time in her life. Every dark corner, every dream she’d ever dreamed and locked behind that door in her heart came alive with his words. He hadn’t gotten into bed and said he loved her in the heat of the moment. No, Blake wanted her to know that he truly, deeply loved her by telling her before he’d even touched her. He meant it, and her heart, her soul, knew it for the truth.

  “I need the words.”

  Point of no return. If this didn’t work out, he’d lose everything he’d worked so hard to build here on the ranch, and Gillian would lose the only man she had ever trusted and opened her heart to love.

  Yes, this meant something. This mattered. More than anything else they’d ever experienced in their past. This wasn’t the next step in their relationship—­it was the first step toward their future together.

  “I’ve only ever said those words to Justin. He’s the only one who ever deserved them—­until I met you.” She leaned up, cupped his face in her hands, looked him straight in the eye, and spoke the words he needed to hear and her heart needed to say. The words she hoped would make all those locked-­away, never-­to-­be-­believed dreams come true. “I love you, Blake.”

  His hands slid over her shoulders and up into her hair. His lips pressed to hers in a soft, languid kiss that held so much love tears stung the backs of her eyes.

  He ended the kiss and stared down at her, his fingers toying with her hair. “You are so beautiful.”

  “Stay. Love me.”

  He shrugged his heavy, wet coat off. She helped him with his thermal shirt, mapping her fingers over his taut muscles. He sucked in a breath when her warm skin met his freezing body. She took her time looking at him. She’d seen him with his shirt off many times. Gorgeous, all hard planes and sculpted muscles, his skin tanned from the sun. His broad chest tapered to lean hips. The wet jeans molded to every contour of his corded thighs and outlined the long, thick length of his arousal.

  He kissed her softly and left her only long enough to close the door and lock it. He stood beside the bed and stared down at her. She reached for the hem of her nightgown to pull it off over her head.

  “Don’t.”

  She let go, hoping he hadn’t changed his mind, but the blazing heat in his eyes said he wanted her. Bad.

  “I want to do it. I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time.” He kissed her forehead, and then the tip of her nose before he stood before her again, undid the button on his jeans, slid the zipper down the rigid length of him, and peeled the wet material down his legs and off his feet. She couldn’t take her eyes off all those lean muscles, nothing but his black boxer briefs covering him now. He hooked his thumbs in the band at his waist and slowly pushed them down his legs. Her gaze followed the journey down those lean muscles and came up and locked on his hard cock. She swallowed and met his steady gaze, saw the cocky half smile she’d grown to love so much and had missed these last days.

  Her eyes went soft and seductive, and she tilted her head, giving him back an appreciative grin. His biceps were mouthwatering, his chest amazing, but the whole package put together was lethal.

  He leaned in, planted his hands on the bed, and followed her down as she fell back onto the pillows again and stretched out her legs just as he lay beside her. His weight made her lean into him. She met him in the middle for a searing kiss and wrapped her leg over his and pressed her warm body to his freezing skin. She rubbed her hand up and down his back, warming him. His hand slid up her thigh, over her hip, and covered her ass. He squeezed and pressed her closer, his thick length pressed to her belly.

  With just his fingertips, Blake brushed the straps of her gown down her arms. First, the left side. Then, the right. He slid the bodice down over her breasts. Her arms came free, and he leaned down and took her hard nipple into his mouth. Her breath released on a soft sigh. The pleasure so sweet and warm it washed through her whole body in a wave of addictive heat.

  She held his head to her breast and relished the feel of his thick hair sliding through her fingers. Cold and wet, such a contrast to his hot, wet tongue sweeping over her skin. She slid her hands down his neck and over his shoulders, the corded muscles bunching under her palms as he moved to her other breast, his big hand molding the other to his palm. She loved the feel of all that strength at her fingertips. His mouth left hot, wet kisses up her neck. He found her mouth again, and she turned to him and pressed her body to his.

  Blake couldn’t get enough of her. She tasted so sweet. That tongue of hers darted into his mouth to sweep along his. Sexy as hell. So giving, her body melted against his. Frustrated by the nightgown bunched around her waist, he grasped the material and dragged the whole thing down until his fingers met the top of her panties. He dipped his fingers inside and pulled them down her legs with the nightgown. He threw both over the side of the bed. He didn’t want any barriers between them. He wanted her. All of her. Only her.

  He smoothed his hand up her strong, smooth thigh and straight to heaven and her hot, wet center. She moaned, and he swept his fingers over her folds, dipped one finger deep into her slick, tight core just so he could hear her make that sexy sound again. She moved her hips against his palm as his finger worked in and out. He took her hard nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. She tightened around his finger, and he circled his thumb over her clit. She grinded her hips against his hand, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and held him to her breast, completely lost to the pleasure that was his to give.

  “Blake.”

  Just his name on her lips nearly sent him over the edge.

  He kissed his way down her belly to her hip, leaned over the side of the bed, and grabbed his jeans for the condom in his wallet. Her hands never stopped touching him, which worked to his advantage when he settled beside her and she swept her fingers down his chest and stomach, wrapping her fingers around his aching cock and stroking him from head to hilt again and again. Unable to take the sweet torture, he tore open the condom with his teeth, tossed the wrapper, sheathed himself, and settled between Gillian’s thighs. Her hands wrapped around his waist and rubbed up his back, pulling him close, his heart pressed to hers.

  Every fiber of his being wanted to rush, but he reined it in and joined his body with hers in a slow, focused glide that gave him time to feel every sensation of his body pressed to hers. Heaven. Home.

  He pulled out and rocked forward. She rolled her hips back, then up to meet him. He kept the pace slow. He wanted to please her. He wanted to make this last.

  His skin against hers was warm and soft and hard and intoxicating. He felt the tension building in her body as her hands moved up his back, her fingers digging into his taught muscles. Every long stroke into her fed that tension until she moaned, rocked against him, and grinded her hips to his.

  So giving. So completely in sync with him.

  She spread her legs wider, took him in deeper, and he craved more. Of her. Of this feeling she evoked deep inside him that wanted to burst free. Her hands slid down his back to his hips, gripped his ass, and pulled him closer. She dug her heels into the bed, raised her hips to meet his next hard, deep thrust. She tightened around him, the tension in him snapped, and he flew over the edge with her. Perfect.

  He collapsed on top of her, his face buried in her long, silky hair, his breath sawing in and out just as fast as hers.

  He tried to roll to his back, but Gillian held him close with her arms wrapped around his back. Her fingers made hypnotic circles on his shoulders. “I’m crushing you, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t leave me, Blake. You feel so good.”

  “You’re the one that feels good.” He kissed her neck and shoulder. “God, you smell sweet.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply—­flowers and citrus. Her scent would haunt him the rest of his days.

  The thought made him smile when he thought of Gabe’s obsession with Ella’s perfume. No
w he got it. He got a lot of things, like the protective streak that reared every time he thought Gillian needed him. He loved her.

  She rubbed her feet up his calves, her hands down his back to cover his ass. They came back up to smooth over his arms and settle on his biceps. She squeezed, he flexed, and she sighed. He smiled. “You have a real thing for my arms.”

  “So much strength, yet you know how to be gentle.”

  He raised up on his forearms and stared down at her. “I’ll be anything you want.”

  “I know that, Blake. I love that you try so hard to take care of me. But you have to stop tiptoeing around me, worrying about everything you say or do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The way you hold yourself back, giving me space when you want to be close. You used to have a beer or two after work. Since I got here, you don’t.”

  “I don’t need to have a beer after work.”

  “Exactly. So if you want one, have one. It doesn’t bother me, because you don’t need it to get through your day.”

  “And I’m with you all the time.”

  “Yes, but you’re always so careful and polite about the way you approach and touch me. Look how long it’s taken us to get here.”

  “I thought you needed time.”

  “I need you. The real you. The man who wants me desperately and shows me with every ounce of love and passion he can’t contain when he touches me.”

  “I want to make you happy.”

  “How can I be happy if you’re not?”

  “I am. I’m with you.”

  She cupped his face and looked him in the eyes. “Please, Blake, I’m trying so hard to work on living a carefree life. Every accomplishment I make seems like I haven’t actually taken a step forward if you keep treating me with kid gloves.”

  “Taking special care of you is not a bad thing.”

  “Being sweet to me is never a bad thing. Holding pieces of yourself back, changing who you are is not okay with me. If you want me to share the bad things with you, but you won’t share all of yourself with me, how can this ever work? Eventually you’ll get tired of it.”

  “Gillian.”

  “No, Blake. You want me to trust you, and I do, but how can that bond hold if we can’t share everything with each other?”

  He rolled to his side and kept her next to him. She put her hand over his heart, snuggled into the crook of his arm, and laid her head on his shoulder.

  He kissed her on the head. “I want to give you everything.”

  She leaned up and kissed him softly. “I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you. You give me magic. You’re amazing.”

  Something in her tone told him they were talking about the amazing way they made love together. “Amazing, huh?”

  “Incredible. Stupendous. Fantastic.” She nipped at his chin. “How do you like those adjectives?”

  “I’ll work on it. I’ll do better next time,” he teased, making her laugh.

  He pulled the blankets over them, wrapped his arms around her, held her close to his side, and kissed her goodnight. He pressed his lips to hers, kissed her once, twice, and held the third for a long, lingering moment. “I love you.” Now that he’d told her, he couldn’t help saying it again. Until he met her, his life had seemed cold and lonely. She’d lit a fire in him that would burn the rest of his life.

  Chapter 23

  Gillian stared at her reflection in the mirror and ran a nervous hand down the skirt of her dress. Grandma Dee helped her pick out the pretty dress, and Gillian paid for it with the money she earned working for her grandfather. She turned to the side and studied the still pink scar lines over her shoulder and up her neck. She had a new one to add to her collection, thanks to Ken. She pushed thoughts of that nuisance out of her mind.

  She hadn’t told Blake what happened. Ken kept his distance. She’d made her point. To him and herself. She wouldn’t be anyone’s victim anymore.

  The dress didn’t cover everything. She liked the snug fit over her breasts and to her waist before its skirt gently flared and draped to her knees. The raspberry-­colored roses with their deep green leaves made a lovely pattern against the white background. The color made the gold in her hair stand out.

  “Gillian, get a move on, sweetheart,” Blake called up the stairs.

  The butterflies in her belly took flight again. Nervous, she bit her bottom lip, tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, and turned from the reflection of the woman in the mirror she didn’t quite feel attached to at the moment.

  She walked down the stairs and stopped on the second to last tread. Gorgeous in dark gray slacks and a white dress shirt, Blake stared at her from the living room. Oh, but the look on Blake’s face made her heart melt. Pure male appreciation. It made the extra half hour of makeup and hair worth it. She liked the side ponytail, her hair cascading down one side of her chest. His eyes blazed a trail from her head down to her pink-­painted toenails encased in a pair of silver sandal high heels. Nothing like anything she’d ever worn, the pretty shoes made her feel sexy. And she knew how much Blake liked her legs. Bonus that her calves looked great, if she did say so herself. The look in his eyes when he stared at her legs told her he agreed.

  “Uh, Gillian, you’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you. Do you like the dress?”

  “I love it. You look so . . .”

  “Different?”

  “Pretty.”

  She wondered if what he really meant was grown-­up. The hair and makeup made her look a few years older. In jeans and a T-­shirt, she could pass for a teenager. She often wondered if their age difference mattered to him. He’d said once that it didn’t, but still, in a small town, little things like that mattered to some ­people.

  “You two have a good night. We’ll take care of Justin.” Grandma Dee pressed her clasped hands to her breasts, not even trying to hide the huge, all-­knowing smile on her face.

  Her grandfather stood beside her, smiling. “You look lovely.” The words came out gruff.

  “Thank you.”

  “Why can’t I come?” Justin asked.

  “Next time,” Blake said. “Tonight, I’m taking your sister out on a proper date.”

  “Why? You see her every day.”

  “Not like this.” Blake never took his eyes off her.

  She came down the last step and kissed Justin on the head, then ruffled his hair. “You be good for your grandparents. If you are, I heard something about roasting marshmallows in the fireplace.”

  “No way!”

  “Yes way. Brush your teeth before bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Blake took her hand and led her out the door and down the porch steps. He stopped her next to his truck. “I have to do this before we go.”

  She didn’t understand what he meant until he leaned down and kissed her softly, holding his lips pressed to hers, his fingers caressing her bare neck lightly. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  “You said that already.”

  “I’ll probably say it a dozen more times by the end of the night.”

  She touched her fingers to her cheek. “It’s not too much? No one wears makeup on the wharf to work with the fishmongers. I’m not very good with the whole makeup thing.”

  “You’re lovely. Ella knows her stuff. She picked out the perfect colors for you.”

  Her gaze fell away from his. Shy, she said, “I like all the stuff she sent me.”

  Blake helped her into the truck. “Tell her at the wedding. She’ll probably send you more.”

  “No. That’s not necessary.”

  Blake shrugged. “She likes doing stuff like that. She sent my mom a bunch of stuff.”

  He closed her door and walked around the truck to climb behind the wheel. They drove out of the ranch and headed down th
e main road to town. Blake took her hand and held it. So sweet.

  “I’m nervous about the wedding.”

  “Why? You’ve met Gabe and my parents. They love you. Ella can’t wait to meet you. Did you pick a dress?”

  “She sent me three. Remind me to bring the other two to her so she can return them. I have no idea how much I owe her for the one I’ll wear.”

  “Nothing. The dresses are yours to keep.”

  “What? No.”

  “Yes. One thing you need to know about Ella. She’s obsessive about organization. She’s driving Gabe crazy with the wedding plans. All the guys will be in black tuxes with dark blue ties and vests. Gabe’s is a different shade of blue. All the ladies will be in different shades of blue dresses.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yep. It’s her favorite color, and that’s what she wanted for the wedding. She and my mother went shopping in New York together to get Mom’s dress. They picked out yours at the same time. Ella wanted you to come, but I told her you probably wouldn’t want to leave Justin for four days.”

  “No. I mean, he loves being with all of you at the ranch, but . . .”

  “He still looks for you to be with him all the time. Don’t worry, he’ll get there. He spends more and more time at my place during the day when I’m there.”

  “How come he’s invited over, but I’m not?”

  Blake turned his gaze from the road and stared at her. “Are you serious? You don’t need an invitation to come see me. Besides, I spend most of my time up at the house with you.”

  She touched her fingers to his cheek to make him look back at the road.

  “You’re right. Sneaking in and out of my bedroom.”

  “I feel like a thief in the night,” he admitted.

  “Stealing kisses.”

  “That and little pieces of heaven.”