Most of every day he suppressed those types of thoughts. He’d done so successfully for over a week. But it was difficult. The more he knew her, the more he liked her. A lot. He could ignore that fact, but it wouldn’t go away.
She was all those things he’d said and more. Kind. Funny. Warm. Cheerful. Upbeat. Smart. Strong.
She couldn’t cook. There. A flaw. An endearing one, however. Cute.
Dammit. There was no easy way to get through this craziness. What if he approached her again sexually?
He winced at the thought that she would probably shoot him down. He could be persuasive when he needed to be, but the idea of talking a woman into sleeping with him held no appeal.
He could flirt with her a bit more to see if she took the bait and returned the gesture, but that was a cop out. He didn’t habitually resort to such cheap measures to get a woman to look at him.
What are you thinking?
Shaking such preposterous thoughts from his head, he headed for the back door. It was nice out. Cold but sunny and not snowing. The perfect day to swing that axe of hers, blow off some stress, and add to her pile.
Ironic?
Probably. After all that thinking about how he didn’t need to belittle Blair to make himself feel superior, the last thing he should do was remind her of one of their earliest confrontations. But the exercise and fresh air would do him good, and besides, this challenge had been set in motion over a week ago. He couldn’t back down now. Time to prove he was catching up to her physically.
Blair couldn’t help but smile and even laugh out loud as she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to that axe coming down over and over. She wasn’t sure what his message was or even if he had one, but she couldn’t find the will to be offended.
She had left him with confusing words that part of her would prefer to take back. For a long time, the cabin had remained silent while she lay on her bed, and he undoubtedly pondered her statements.
When she heard the back door close, she wondered what he was up to. She didn’t like the idea of him outside alone. After all, it was her job to keep him safe. On the flip side, nothing would emasculate him more than for her to berate him for stepping out back. It was a fine line.
The first time the axe hit the log, she nearly jumped out of her skin before realizing what the sound was. Heart racing, she lowered onto her back and listened to the soothing rhythmic sound of the hatchet.
If he was making a statement, she heard it. He was stronger now. He no longer felt like he wasn’t her equal. She found it hard to believe the Dade she knew would go to this length to intentionally make her feel weak or less capable than him. Especially not after the words she’d last spoken.
Dade was always courteous. He was thoughtful enough to take her statements seriously.
Or maybe he just wanted to get outside and hit something to blow off steam. She smiled again. Also possible.
The man had stamina. That was for sure. He kept at it.
An idea popped into her mind. If he could chop her wood, she could cook in his kitchen. Right?
Might not have been her best idea, but it seemed like an unspoken truce. Equalizing them. Putting them back to rights after her admission that she wasn’t always in the mood to be the master of the world.
As she headed for the kitchen, she watched him out the window. He had taken off his coat and was methodically working through the logs she had piled up several yards from the house. Every time he lifted the hatchet, she sucked in a breath. He was an Adonis. His back was sculpted and mouthwatering. His biceps and forearms had gotten firmer. Even his ass inside his formfitting jeans was delectable.
Unable to resist his magnetic pull, she made the spontaneous decision to join him outside. She tugged on her boots and grabbed her coat from the hook before opening the back door.
They spent so much time in such a serious mood. They needed a diversion.
Dade swung the axe at the same moment she shut the door, so he didn’t notice her approaching, which gave her a devious idea. She bent down, picked up a pile of snow, molded it into a ball, and launched it at his back as soon as he set the axe down to grab another log.
She hit her target dead on, making him spin around. His eyes were wide with confusion. She smirked as she grabbed another handful of snow and took aim again, this time hitting him in the chest before he had a chance to respond.
Thank God he smiled and dropped the log. Seconds later, he had his own snowball and nailed her in the thigh.
“What kind of aim is that?” she taunted.
“Really?” he asked. “You want to go there?”
She launched another packed ball at him, hitting him in the cheek this time.
His face was red, but his eyes sparkled with mirth. It was a much better look than the usual serious expression he held. “Blair…” he warned. He grabbed another handful of snow and came toward her.
She jumped back and then ran around the edge of the cabin. The moment he rounded behind her into her line of sight, only feet separating them, she landed another crudely constructed snowball against his belly.
He had two in his hands, however, and he recovered quickly, throwing both in rapid succession, hitting her in the upper arm and then the back of the head as she ducked.
She bent down to compile more snow, but he rushed forward, tagged her around the waist, and smashed a handful of snow into her face from behind.
She sputtered and gasped. It was freezing cold. “Hey, you don’t play fair.”
“Is there a rule book for sneaking up behind someone and starting a snowball fight without their knowledge?” he joked as he rubbed more snow into her cheek. He still held her firmly against him, her back to his front. With only one free hand, he had her pinned and managed to do sufficient damage with the icy cold fluff.
She grabbed his forearm, trying to free herself. “Yes. Of course there are rules. Haven’t you ever been in a snowball fight before?”
His lips were close to her ear when he responded. “It’s been a while. I didn’t realize it wasn’t a contact sport.”
She giggled, taking advantage of his momentary distraction, and wiggled free by dropping her weight to duck under his arm and scramble away. As she stumbled, she reached out with her hands to catch herself.
Dade was on her in an instant, hauling her back up to standing while he scooped another pile of snow to smash into her neck this time.
She hadn’t zipped her coat up all the way, so the cold wetness ran down inside her shirt, making her squeal. “Uncle,” she shouted.
Finally, he released her. “That’s what I thought.”
She attempted to brush the freezing snow off her chest, only making it worse. Shivering, she met his gaze. “Cheater.”
He was grinning wide as he shrugged. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a man with an axe.”
“I waited until you set it down.”
“Ah. Well, then. That makes all the difference.” His cheeks were pink. He’d never looked more alive. It was a good look on him. At least she’d made him forget his problems for a few minutes.
Her instinct was to close the distance, tip her head back, and kiss him again. She wasn’t sure how he would respond, though, so instead, she decided it was time to go inside. “I’m going to go dry off now,” she told him, shoving his shoulder playfully as she went by.
“I’ll be in soon,” he responded as he headed back toward the pile of logs.
While she hung up her coat and shrugged off her boots, the chopping resumed. She was smiling as she entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. Dinner. That had been her intention before she uncharacteristically took a detour.
They were well-stocked again for a while, and she decided on some pork chops and vegetables. She could make rice and maybe turn the vegetables into a stir-fry. How hard could it be?
Half an hour later, Blair glanced up as Dade came through the back door. He was winded, but not too bad considering how hard he’d worked. His face w
as flushed from the cold.
He startled when he saw her, his eyes going wide before he grinned. “We trading chores?”
She shrugged. “It seemed fair.” It seemed necessary.
He hooked his coat near the back door and tugged off his boots before wandering in closer. “What are we having for dinner?”
“Probably burnt pork chops and limp vegetables,” she joked. “Your wood chopping will make my culinary skills pale in comparison.”
He set a hand on her lower back as he leaned over to inhale her stir-fry. “It wasn’t a contest.”
Her heart rate picked up at the contact and his soft words so close to her ear.
She got so rattled that she accidentally touched the pan with her wrist and then yelped as the pan nearly fell on the floor.
Dade was quick to grab the pan, set it to rights, and turn off the burner while simultaneously tugging her by the forearm over to the sink. He turned on the cold water and held her wrist under the stream.
She didn’t think the burn was that bad. Hardly worth the fanfare. Besides, she needed him to step away from her before his proximity made her head spin. Giving a slight jerk, she tried to free herself. “I’ve got it, Dade.”
He didn’t release her, though. Instead, he held her steadier, leaning down to see the burn.
“Dade.” She pursed her lips, staring at his profile and then his chest and then his grip on her arm. It was too much. She only had so much self-control. It had been teetering for days. Touching her like this was very bad. “Dade,” she said louder.
“You need to keep it under the water. Cool it off.”
“It’s fine.” She tugged again.
He ignored her. In fact, he stuck one leg behind her to keep her from backing up, trapping her against the sink.
His biceps brushed against her nipple, making it pebble and sending a shiver down her spine.
She pressed her legs together and bit her lip, willing him to let her go. Arguing was obviously useless. She needed to ride this out until he was appeased.
But he continued to touch her. Too intimately. His fingers rubbed against her arm. Was he even aware?
When he reached with his other hand to uncurl her fist next to the faucet, she reached her breaking point.
With one solid forceful yank of her arm, she jerked out of his grasp. She had too much momentum, however, and windmilled backward, tripping over his foot. She would have fallen on her ass or even hit her head on the table if he hadn’t caught her.
He grabbed both her biceps with his hands and steadied her, her back against the edge of the table. “Jesus, Blair. What’s up with you? I’m just trying to help.”
His face was too close, his body firm and cold from being outside. The length of him pressed against her from thighs to chest.
She lifted her gaze to meet his, so aroused that she wasn’t sure she could properly form words. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Please,” she managed.
He cocked his head to one side, confused. “Blair?”
Heart pounding, she couldn’t figure out what to say next. Why couldn’t he just let her go before she embarrassed herself and put their relationship in jeopardy?
A stare-off ensued. When she couldn’t take another second, she made a hard lurch to the right. But Dade was stronger than her. Instead of letting her go, he closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers.
Shocked, at first she didn’t return the kiss, but when he tipped his head slightly to one side, making his intentions completely clear, she could no longer stop herself. She’d wanted his lips on hers for so long, she was unable to reason.
He moaned softly into her mouth, his body leaning against hers. She was aware of every inch of him. Cold and warm at the same time. Alert. So aroused. She’d needed this for so many days.
She grabbed his waist, returning the kiss with as much fervor as she felt coming from him. Licking the seam of his lips. Tasting him while he did the same. His grip on her biceps loosened but only because he gradually slid his hands up until one cupped her face and one gripped the back of her neck.
The way he controlled her movements, holding her right where he wanted her, drove her mad. Pent-up desire bubbled from inside as her breasts grew heavy and her sex demanded attention.
Suddenly, he released her. One second he was touching her everywhere, and the next second he was gone.
She blinked her eyes open, swaying to one side, to find his back to her. It wasn’t until he turned off the running water that she realized his intention. She took the opportunity to make her escape. But not fast enough.
He returned instantly, shaking his head, hands on her waist, backing her up until she hit the wall. “Nuh-uh. We’re not done here.” And then he was all over her again. Lips. Hands roaming. One knee nestling between hers. His torso pressing against her breasts. His erection obvious against her belly.
Wetness pooled between her legs as she noted his arousal. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
When his hands wormed under her tight-fitting shirt, she sighed into his mouth. The contact of his fingers against her skin sent an urgency through her body. A frantic need to touch his skin, to have him pressed against her. Inside her. Everywhere.
Now.
She fumbled to grab the bottom of his shirt and tug it upward, flattening her palms on his firmness as she smoothed them up to his pecs. Lips still connected, she rose onto her tiptoes to yank his shirt over his head.
His pupils were dilated and intense when he met her gaze as the cotton whipped between their faces. “Blair…” And then he continued devouring her as if they were long-lost lovers reuniting for the first time in years.
She planted her palms on his smooth skin, but was immediately distracted from her exploration when his hands made their way back under her shirt and over her sports bra.
She was fully aware there was nothing sexy about her undergarments, but based on the way he looked at her every time he saw her working out or walking from or to the equipment room, she doubted he would agree.
He squeezed her breasts, molding his hands to lift and hold them and weigh them, and then he thumbed her nipples. She moaned into his mouth, arching into his touch. He broke the kiss and hastened his efforts to divest her of both her shirt and then her bra, pulling them over her head and dropping them on the floor.
When his gaze landed on her bare chest, she watched his face. His chest rose and fell as time slowed. His hands eased up to cup her breasts again, but this time more reverently. The contact of his thumbs against her nipples was so light she almost didn’t notice.
But the tight buds pebbled further.
In the lull, she reached for the button on his jeans, hands shaking with urgency. She fumbled, but he swiped her fingers away and picked her up by the waist. “Legs around me,” he demanded. “We’re not fucking against this wall.”
She complied without a word, loving the feel of his length pushing against her sex. Heady with promise. His words sent flutters to her belly. Fucking. It had promise too. Thank God. If he intended to stop this freight train, she might die.
In seconds, she was falling backward until she landed on her bed sideways. He hovered over her, still on his feet, nibbling a path to her ear before pulling back and grabbing the waistband of her leggings. In moments they were gone, leaving her in nothing but a black thong. Not even a sexy lacey one. Just black cotton.
The world stopped spinning again while he scanned her body, worshipping her with his eyes and the tips of his fingers. Learning her. His gaze hesitated on her left arm where her scar was, but only for a second.
Goose bumps rose all over her skin at the intensity of his perusal.
The dancing of his fingertips over her nipples made her fist the comforter at her sides and bite her bottom lip.
A slight furrow in his brow told her he was studying her. It should have unnerved her. Instead, she felt worshipped. He grazed his fingers down her torso next and then hooked them into her thong to dra
w it off her body. He grabbed her ankles and lifted them, forcing her to bend her knees and causing a moment of self-consciousness as her legs parted to reveal everything.
She held her breath when his hands came to her thighs, holding them wider, thumbs stroking so close to her sex. The cool air in the room made her hyperaware of the gathered wetness.
He inhaled as he lowered his face. “Intoxicating.” And then his mouth was on her. Unexpected. Shocking. So good.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, watching him go down on her, wondering what he thought of the fact that she kept herself groomed bare. Some men liked it. Others didn’t. Since it was her body, and she preferred the look and feel, she had shaved everything for most of her adult life.
Dade gave no indication he was disappointed. That was for sure. His lips were on her clit, his tongue flicking over the distended nub so fast her eyes rolled back.
“Dade. Oh, God.” She was going to come. Pent-up need rushed to the surface. Too many days of watching him in her space, his presence so all-consuming there was no way to avoid him.
Why had she deprived herself of this man and his talented mouth?
The second he increased the intensity of his sucking and pressed his tongue against her clit, she came. She cried out, something incoherent, while her body rode the waves of pleasure.
It wouldn’t stop. Because it wasn’t enough. Even after the orgasm subsided, she was still aroused. Her body begged to be filled. She pressed on his shoulders, hoping to disengage him so that he could take off his jeans.
His gaze was still so intense when he lifted his lips from between her thighs and stared at her.
“Please,” she begged, reaching fruitlessly toward his jeans. “Dammit, Dade, I’m going to implode.”
He popped the button and lowered the zipper while she watched. The tickets to this show were well worth it as he shimmied out of his jeans and underwear at the same time, leaving himself bare to her gaze.
She should have suspected he would be well-endowed. After all, the rest of him was tall and broad. He was proportionately perfect, which meant his size made her slightly concerned. She’d seen her fair share of erections. Enough to know this one was larger. And she hadn’t had sex in a long time.
Reviving Dade Page 10