The House On Burra Burra Lane

by Jones, Jennie

  She hunched her shoulders beneath the fleece, hiding her breasts and their pointy nipples. She wasn’t wearing underwear, she’d got dressed in a hurry, anxious about her property and her animals.

  ‘Do you think the shed has collapsed?’ she asked quietly, letting the warmth of the fleece calm her. If Ethan hadn’t come she’d have been smashed under the shed.

  He shook his head. ‘Probably not completely. Nothing we can’t mend.’

  She lifted her face. ‘I’m sorry I shouted at you. I was so shocked I couldn’t move from the shed. I thought my house might catch on fire. I knew I had to switch the electricity off but I couldn’t move.’

  He gazed down at her. ‘I know. I turned the electricity off when I was looking for you. It’s alright now.’

  He’d come to find her. He’d come to help her. What was she supposed to feel about that?

  ‘I was scared,’ he said.

  His eyes were dark, measuring the depth of hers, looking for something.

  She opened her mouth, about to ask him where Julia was, then snapped it closed tightly. It wasn’t any of her business. ‘I’m okay,’ she said instead, thinking he needed to see her restored to her normal self.

  ‘And what about us, Sammy? Are we okay?’

  He stood quietly, but tension radiated from him. He swallowed, opened his mouth to speak.

  She looked away.

  ‘Are we?’ he asked.

  Don’t, she begged him silently. Don’t say anything more.

  ‘Why were you so mad at me yesterday?’

  She didn’t answer but wanted to shout at him. Shove him fiercely away; two hands on his chest and one big push. Instead, she threw herself against him.

  He caught her.

  She pressed her face to his chest. Inhaled the smell of him, and scrunched her eyes tightly closed.

  ‘Why were you mad at me?’ he asked again.

  He was doing the friend thing. He had to make things better between them. He didn’t like discord. Or did he already know why she was mad at him?

  Thunder crashed and she startled. ‘Don’t ask me that. It’s up to you what you want.’ She groaned. Should have kept her mouth closed. Should have stayed away from this solid chest that smelled of ice and wind.

  ‘Sammy? Answer me.’

  If she kept her voice low he might not hear her through the noise of the storm. If she just breathed it, it would be spoken. Out. Gone from her. And she needed to voice it aloud. ‘I don’t want you to go out with Julia.’ It was less than a whisper, and muffled in the cloth of his shirt and an oilskin pocket.

  ‘I don’t want to either.’

  He’d heard her. Her stupid heart should be hammered to smithereens. Never knew when to stop giving, always wanted to give.

  He lowered his face to hers, his mouth by her cheek. ‘There’s someone else I want to be with.’

  She kept her face pressed to him, took a breath and shivered inside his fleece.

  ‘You might know her.’

  She shook her head, face still buried in the cloth of his shirt.

  He shifted, loosened his grip on her a little. ‘She’s beautiful.’

  She looked up then, and knew she wouldn’t be able to look away.

  ‘I want to look after her too much, and she doesn’t like that. She’s independent.’ His mouth came so close to her cheek his breath warmed her skin. ‘I want to hold her hand,’ he whispered. ‘I want her to walk with me awhile.’

  She sucked at her bottom lip, bit it.

  ‘She has three lonely freckles on her nose.’ He lifted a hand, touched the hair at the nape of her neck. ‘And her hair curls after the rain.’

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  ‘Do you hear me?’ he said. ‘She’s irresistible, and I fell for her.’

  ‘You’re the irresistible one, not me.’ She clamped her mouth closed, furious that she’d spoken from the heart.

  ‘Am I? Is that what you think?’

  He offered so much more than her. He had strength and safety to rely on, and eyes that engaged a person, and skills that helped people. She wanted to tell him so, wanted him to know how fine a man he was and that she would try not to be angry with him. That she’d give good, sensible friendship. But the words that came from her mouth spoke only of her wish to take. ‘I want you to kiss me again.’

  He touched her nose with his thumb, slid it gently down and away. He cupped her face with both hands. ‘They’re still there,’ he said. ‘All this time, I didn’t know if they were real.’ He bent and placed his mouth on hers.

  All the fractious sounds around her disappeared. A stream of comfort trickled through her body. He smelled cold but his body was warm and his mouth heated pleasure. Much more than a brief touch, it was a deep kiss. His chin rasped against hers as he brushed his mouth to her cheek and came back to give more pleasure to her lips. If she could only stay like this, she’d be content to purr in his arms until the end of time.

  ‘Sammy.’ He only lifted his mouth a little way, but compensated for the loss by putting his arms around her. ‘Will you walk with me awhile?’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ She missed his mouth already. She gazed at it, willing it back to hers.

  ‘I don’t deserve it,’ he said, ‘but I want to walk with you across fields, show you animals, fish the river with you, and catch a hold of some of your joy.’

  Uneasiness pulsated through her, cautioning her. ‘There’s an awful lot of nonsense beneath my joy, Ethan. You’ve seen it. I don’t want to trip you up with that.’ She’d been told so often that she gave nothing but frustration. Nobody had recognised her sensitivity about that.

  ‘There’s that head talking again,’ he said. ‘What does your heart want?’

  Nobody recognised her … except Ethan. He understood her. ‘We’ll lose our way.’

  ‘Walk with me.’

  ‘If we do this, we can’t go back to what it was before.’ She shook her head, denying it for them both. ‘We can’t be friends again. I won’t be able to handle that.’

  He watched her, waiting, she knew, for her thoughts to still. He was giving her time, which meant he’d already thought it through for himself.

  ‘Can we go back now?’ he asked at last, catching her very thought.

  They were moving away from friendship. It would never be the same between them. She had no knowledge of where it would take them, but her need was there inside her, wrapped around her heart.

  He kissed her again, insistent but gentle. She softened into it.

  ‘I want to make love with you,’ he murmured.

  She pulled away from him, took a step back.

  He swore softly. ‘Is that too much?’ He watched her, with his studied look, the one that showed how skilled he was at waiting.

  How could he want her? She trembled. This was her foe, her enemy. Her worst nightmare, and it was happening whilst she was next to the man she wanted.

  He pulled her into him, nestled her body against him. ‘Let me take you to bed, Sammy. Let me show you.’

  The want of him spread through her. It rippled like a heat wave down her spine. She lifted her arms, wound them around his neck and pressed against him.

  ‘I’ve never wanted anyone like this, Ethan.’

  He swept her in his arms. ‘That’s all I need to know.’ He lifted her and turned to the staircase.

  Sixteen

  He’d come for her. Dashing through the storm. Telling her what he wanted from her.

  They were halfway up the stairs before Sammy fully realised how much control he’d taken, and how fast. She snatched at the collar of his coat. His hold on her tightened. He knew where to go, which room. He nudged the door open with his shoulder and walked into her bedroom.

  The daylight was lost, it was twilight inside the house and out. The curtains were drawn back, but no sunlight shone through the window, just the barest grey light, resting on the furniture and the bed in a lustre of silkiness.

  Her heartbeat p
icked up, beating irrationally. She wasn’t inexperienced, but with the immediacy of intimacy, the vulnerability that had unnerved her, and the surprise of Ethan— she felt rushed; pushed into something advancing on her too quickly. She hadn’t prepared, hadn’t had time to talk herself out of her nerves at being with him. She stiffened, pressed her face to the warm skin of his neck.

  ‘It’s alright,’ he said softly.

  He let her go, holding her as her body slipped from his arms.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, her voice catching.

  ‘What for?’ he kissed her throat, her chin, her earlobe.

  She angled her face until her mouth found his, and kissed him. A single, soft kiss.

  ‘I won’t rush you,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to get you here.’ He watched her for a moment, absorbed, concentrated, as though looking at her for the first time. Then he gave her the comforting gift of his kiss. His mouth firm, his body protective as he explored with his tongue. His heartbeat was pulsing in his chest as powerfully as her own.

  A surge of jealousy flared through her at the thought of him with another, doing this to any other woman. She wound her arms around his neck, and claimed him. Wet and warm; he tasted of hailstones. She seared herself to him. Wanted to see and touch every part of him.

  He pressed a hand to the curvature of her spine, pulled her close. Her hands fluttered behind his neck, fingers itching to stroke him—and a lightning-speed uncertainly stilling her.

  ‘Sammy,’ he said, his breath fanning her mouth as he spoke her name over and over. He held her with care, his tender movements grounding her. ‘Sammy … I want you too.’

  He knew. He understood.

  She startled when he released her and shrugged the coat from his shoulders. It fell to the floor with a thud.

  She inhaled, unable to settle the rushing sensations, the mind-numbing reality of being with him; of him wanting her.

  Without his coat, he smelled even more like the outdoors. Hay, woodchips, leather, varnishing oil somewhere on his clothing, and a subtle scent of male skin and honest sweat.

  The blue of his eyes, like pools of deep water, drew her in as he slid the fleece from her shoulders. He undid the top stud of her wet shirt, then the next, his broad fingers sure and nimble with the tiny poppers.

  Her breath rose high in her chest. She grabbed his hands, stopped him.

  He paused, and looked into her eyes.

  She’d never been shy about sex before, but this was Ethan. He was everything to her, and she didn’t know how to stop herself from showing him the levels of her need or her impatience. Her thoughts were jumpy, and her muscles were tense. She wanted him to think her beautiful, and calm, and prepared.

  He watched her, waiting for her.

  ‘I’m nervous,’ she explained, her voice betraying that. ‘And a little desperate.’ She smiled, hoped he’d understand and give her muddled brain time to settle into the darkened day, and the sweet, sexual ambiance of the new scents between them.

  ‘I’ll take away your nerves,’ he said quietly. He smiled, mouth closed, gaze deepening. ‘But I’d like it if you stayed a little desperate.’

  The ripple that ran through her buckled her knees.

  He caught her. ‘How desperate are you, Sammy?’

  She swayed to him, every sense of him pooling in her belly. She placed her finger on his mouth.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘Do you want a moment?’

  ‘I’m not nervous with you, Ethan. I’m nervous with me.’

  He kissed the finger still on his mouth. ‘I know that.’

  He caught her face in his hands. ‘I know everything about you. I know how your eyes dart when you’re nervous. I know how your smile sparkles when you’re happy.’ He brought his mouth close to hers. ‘I know how your laugh makes everything inside me explode in pleasure.’ He brushed his mouth over hers. ‘Now I want to know your body.’

  ‘I don’t know if I’ll be enough for you.’

  ‘Look at me,’ he said. ‘Watch my face. And you’ll know what I see, and what I feel when I undress you.’

  Heat flared through her, spreading to every pore.

  He kissed her, pushing his tongue gently between her lips.

  He popped the buttons on her shirt and slid his hands beneath, the toughened palms grazing her flesh and sending dancing goose bumps over her skin as he pushed the fabric from her. The cool storm air brushed her flesh as the shirt slipped to the floor. Her breasts rose as she breathed deeply, and her nipples puckered and hardened.

  She smelled her own perfume. Her shampoo, the fruity shower gel she’d used that morning—now the aroma mixed with Ethan’s.

  She held her breath, shuddered when his hands came to her waist. He bent on one knee, eyes downward cast, his movements slow and unhurried.

  He said something. Her name, perhaps.

  His hair fell over his brow as he slipped his strong hands inside the waistband of her track pants and pulled the material over her hips.

  Down her thighs, over her knees.

  She laid her hands on his head, brushed back the fall of hair on his brow in a caress, the strands warm and thick between her fingers. She stepped out of the track pants, the palm of his hand on the heel of her foot as he lifted it, steadied her, then lifted the other.

  His shoulders were so wide. She was tiny, standing naked before her solid, rugged man.

  He looked up, and into her eyes.

  Her stomach muscles contracted, her skin flushed with pleasure. She didn’t need daylight, there was sunlight in her heart at the sight of his features.

  ‘What do you see?’ he asked.

  Her breath hitched. ‘I see you wanting me.’

  ‘And what do I feel?’

  ‘Dazzled … like I feel.’

  From his place at her feet, his gaze travelled down her body, resting on her throat, her breasts, and down to her stomach.

  There was more physical gratification in his studied gaze than by any touch she’d had before his. Beneath the sexual energy making her so nervously needy, she softened into a gracefulness she hadn’t expected to experience.

  He took hold of her hips, tugged her towards him and kissed the flesh of her lower belly.

  Her hands jerked in his hair.

  He slid his kiss lower, and touched her with his mouth.

  ‘Ethan.’ She could fly. Soar. Spread herself wide and float with him.

  His fingers followed, melting inside her. Such pleasure, so soon. She would drown in more. She took hold of his shoulders. Her hands were slight on him, but sturdy. Her fingers flared on him; pale against tanned brawn.

  He unfurled to stand, his hands sweeping her body, coveting, caressing every curve.

  ‘You make me want you, Sammy. You’re beautiful. I feel strong with you. I always knew you’d make me feel this way.’

  He jagged her closer, his hands on her spine, and pressed her lower body against his pelvis.

  He was hard. He was strong and hardened, and ready.

  ‘Show me, now,’ he said. ‘Show me how you feel.’ His eyes were hot blue. He saw everything she had.

  He could have all the curling pleasure within her. He could look, watch, and take. She pulled him to her mouth, pushed her tongue against his.

  Long, long moments of wonder, and surprise. As though they understood each other even more this way. Tongues flicking, searching and tasting.

  He held her, his body towering and protecting, the length of his erection hard against her belly as he embraced her with his hungry hands.

  She gasped when he released her mouth and dipped to take a nipple between his teeth, cupping her other breast with his hand.

  Soft suckling sounds, a heartbeat gone wild, and a raw throb of desire. Her breasts swelled, filling his hand, his mouth.

  He released her on a harsh sigh. Everything ached when he wasn’t touching her but his smile was surely the eighth wonder of the world. ‘Can I get naked now too?’ he asked.

  She licked
her lips, the moisture from his mouth. ‘Yes please.’

  Her hands flew to his arms, stroking his shirt and the muscles beneath. She plucked at the buttons. His mouth found hers. He pulled the shirt tails from his jeans and started undoing the buttons from the bottom. When their hands met, he released her mouth.

  She pushed the shirt from his shoulders, slid it down his arms, pressing her breasts against his toughened chest. So much broader and firmer than anticipated. She reached up and wound her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips to the shard of his collarbone, to the base of his throat, to the deep ravine between the pectoral muscles sprinkled with barley-coloured hair, happy to have the next touch of him on her lips.

  His eyes sparkled darkly, and his smile was slightly crooked. ‘I really like you desperate.’

  She swallowed her laugh, then wished she hadn’t. ‘I want all of you.’

  ‘I’d better take my boots off then.’ His smile was capped with delight.

  She bent with him, tipped her head beneath his and kissed him. He reached down and somehow unlaced his boots and kicked them off, his mouth stuck to hers.

  They rose together as he unbuckled his belt. He unsnapped the metal on his jeans, pulled the zip. He pushed the jeans off while his mouth fed on hers. He breathed deeply, his ribcage expanding, the wheaten body hair slicing a trail from his chest to his rigid abdomen and down to the pleasure waiting for her.

  She curled into him, her arms around his waist, palms flat on his back, stroking his spine, noticing each bump and curve, each hollowed-out place between muscle.

  Happiness and expectancy filled her like a joyous burst of energy.

  His hands slid to her waist and he lifted her. She was off the ground, flying in his arms, eye to eye with him. She ran her tongue over her lips, tempting him.

  ‘Now I’m desperate,’ he said.

  He turned them. He lifted a knee to the bed, balanced himself as he cradled her to the covers and lowered them together. The thick eiderdown crinkled with silky sighs.

  ‘Wait a second.’ He leaned over the bed, reached to the floor and shook his jeans. ‘Damn,’ he murmured.