by Cindy Stark
"I hear it," he whispered back.
Relief flooded her. He was awake and coherent. "Could it be my father's men?" She hadn't been able to think those thoughts a moment before while Milo had been asleep.
"Shh…"
Her quick reprieve shifted back to worry.
"Not a person. Mountain lion, maybe," he whispered.
Adrenaline kicked in. "What?" She tried to move, but he had her pinned.
"I'm just kidding, darlin'." His deep chuckle vibrated through the darkness. "It's most likely a raccoon or a skunk. Nothing big that's going to get you."
It took a few seconds for his words to register. "You..." She pushed against him, trying to decide if she was grateful their lives weren't in danger, or if she was mad at him for teasing her.
"Sorry, but that's what happens when you wake me from a hot-as-hell dream. I can't have you in real life, but damn…"
The adrenaline rushing through her veins took a sharp curve toward long-thwarted need. "You were dreaming about me?" Acute awareness of his muscled body pressed to hers flooded her brain. Her breasts pushed against him with each breath she took, and the evidence of his physical need for her wouldn't be ignored.
"Yeah." His admission came out as a breathless whisper. "I just, uh…I should move off you, but you feel so damn good, Ariana."
She loved the way he said her name, sounding a little sleepy, and more than a little turned on. "What were we doing in your dream?" She shouldn't have asked, but she wanted to share the fantasy.
"Mmm…" The sound rumbled in his chest. "It kind of started out like the night we played poker. You were doing this sexy kind of strip tease dance for me. You wore this lacy turquoise bra that played peek-a-boo with your nipples."
She swallowed, trying to wet her dry mouth. With just a few words, he'd sucked her in to his heated dream. She wanted to do that dance for him. She wanted to turn him on. Wanted him to feel the aching need that she experienced over and over again every day they were together.
"You slipped off your jeans and your turquoise panties looked like the ones you had on at the river."
"I still haven't forgiven you for peeking," she said, breathless.
He rolled off her with a groan. "Oh God, Ariana. How could I not? You're the…sexiest thing that's ever stumbled into my life. From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. But you're like the sweetest piece of candy I can't have. The more I know you, the more I like you, but I can never have you. It's a sick game the fates are playing with my head. Forgive me for my moment of weakness."
His words stunned her. She'd known she'd caught his eye, but she had no idea he experienced the attraction to the degree she did. He might not agree they should have their moment in time, but she couldn't be sure she'd ever feel like this again, and she wasn't about to miss the opportunity.
She slid next to him, snuggling a leg between his and resting her head on his chest.
"What are you doing?"
"Shh…" It was her turn to silence him. She took his face in her hands, finding his lips with her thumbs. He didn't move as she slid her mouth across his. The warm, soft feel of him against her was all the encouragement she needed.
She paused, rubbing a thumb across his bottom lip, reveling in the moisture she'd left there. Still, he didn't move. Stubble tickled her fingers as she traced them along his jaw.
She kissed him again, adding pressure to his lips this time, sucking his bottom lip, and running her tongue along the crease of his mouth.
Soft streams of moonlight returned as he growled and rolled her over, once again pinning her down. He held her wrists on the pillow next to her head. "We can't do this."
"Why?" She wasn't going to take no for an answer this time.
"It's unethical."
"The hell it is. You're not working in an official capacity. You're doing a favor for a friend." She tried to wriggle free, but he was too strong. "This is right, Milo. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not ever again, but for tonight, it's meant to be."
"I'd be using you when you're vulnerable."
"Don't tell me that. I might be in a state of flux, but I'm far from broken. We deserve to be happy. Making love with you will make me happy." She tried to break loose again, but couldn't. "Are you saying you don't want me?"
He remained silent, and she could sense the war raging inside him.
"Let me go, Milo."
He released her wrists, but still hovered above her.
She ran her hands beneath his shirt and up his sides, his skin warm and taut beneath her fingers. She hadn't touched anything quite so wonderful. "I want you," she whispered. "Please don't deny me."
She slid her arms around his neck and tugged on him until he surrendered. His lips met hers in a frantic kiss, as though now that he'd reconsidered, she'd somehow disappear. His tongue tangled with hers as he possessed her mouth, tasting, demanding. His kisses threatened to steal her soul.
"Milo," she whispered when he pulled away, afraid that by breathing, she'd broken the spell.
"I can't do this. It goes against everything I've believed."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ariana climbed on top of Milo, straddling his waist. "It goes against what you thought was right, but maybe things aren't that way. Maybe this is right." She slipped his flannel shirt from her shoulders and the tank top over her head. Night air caressed her, cooling her heated skin.
He watched, an enthralled look on his face as she took his hand, cupping her breast. She sighed as he rubbed a thumb across the lace covering her nipple, sending an explosion of excited shivers through her. It didn't take much to break him.
He teased her bud until it strained against the black lace of her bra. "Oh," he said on a breath. "Ariana." He lifted his other hand, claiming both breasts. She leaned into his touch, allowing him to take the full weight of them as he molded her to his hands.
He slipped his fingers around her back and undid the clasp of her bra. Her unrestrained breasts fell forward, heavy and aching with desire. He captured a nipple, sucking her inside his hot mouth, making her muscles clench. A second later a breathtaking firebomb of desire erupted inside her.
She sucked in a ragged breath of fresh mountain air, trying to regain some semblance of control. She'd never known a man's touch could be so powerful.
"Damn," he whispered.
Her brain spun in a million different directions, focusing on sensation and ignoring any sensible thoughts. The only thing she knew was she needed more of him touching her and tasting her.
Her slack bra fell off with a shrug, and she jerked at the button at her waist. It popped open, and she unzipped her pants.
"Whoa, darlin'." He stilled her hands. "There's no hurry. If we're going to do this, I intend to enjoy every second of it. We've got a couple of hours before the sun comes up."
The thought of making love to Milo for hours was more than she could have asked for.
"I just, I want you to touch me before I wake up and realize this is a dream."
"Trust me. This is so much better than a dream." He tugged her down with him, onto the sleeping bag. "Get under here with me. It's cold out there." He pulled the quilts up around them and then rolled partially on her, covering her thighs with his leg. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
"Touch me, Milo." The center of her ached for him like a sinner at heaven's gate craved forgiveness. This was nothing like the innocent attraction and awkward first time she'd had with Danny. The intensity was a thousand times as strong.
He drew a finger across the top elastic of her panties and slowly traced upward. She shivered as he neared her breasts, but instead of touching her there, he continued through the valley to her collarbone where he followed along its lines. "Is this good?"
"No, not even. Don't tease me, Milo."
He trailed down, caressing the sensitive flesh on the underside of her breast, and the ache rose to a new level. "How about this?"
"Better." She shifted and closed her eyes on a moan w
hen he circled her nipple with his tongue. The open air reacted with her wet areola, tightening it, sending a ripple effect straight to her core.
He cupped her breast, massaging the mound upward and forcing her nipple out. He nipped her and another brilliant explosion tore through her.
"Milo," she whispered. "I need you now." She recognized the fact that she'd had very little experience with men, and that she probably came across as a novice, but the building sensation between her legs demanded a proper release. "I can't wait."
Milo chuckled. His warm lips covered hers, stealing her attention away from other areas, but not for long. Soon his hand slipped along the edge of her panties again, this time dipping beneath the silky fabric. She gasped against his mouth as she arched to give him better access. "Yes." He was so close.
"Ariana." He gazed into her face, but the moonlight behind him hid his expression. "We shouldn't do this."
"Don't talk. Just touch me, Milo." Dear God, please.
Tiny sensations burst as he crossed her mound. She inhaled in anticipation as he slipped between her folds.
"Good God almighty. You're so wet."
"I know," she whispered in a shivered breath. Her body acted of its own accord. She whimpered as he drove a finger inside, making her arch, and increasing her hunger for him.
What he'd found there must have changed his mind about going slow. He nearly ripped her panties and jeans from her body and discarded his clothes just as quickly. He fussed for a minute with a condom before he pulled her against him, resting a naked thigh between hers. His rock hard penis pressed against her hip, tempting and taunting her.
"Oh, God, Ariana. This is just…" He claimed her mouth in a possessive, dominating kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him to her. He was so close, and she wasn't going to let him go. Not until he gave her what she craved.
He cupped her, dipping another finger inside. "Shit." He rolled on top of her, spreading her thighs with his knees. "I can't wait, either."
She smiled as he positioned his penis at her apex and buried himself inside her. She cried out as he filled her, and she hurried to cover her mouth so she wouldn't wake the others.
"Damn, you're tight."
"Don't stop," she gasped as pain-tainted pleasure rushed through her.
He thrust again, stretching her to accommodate him.
She knew she would be taut. She'd only ever made love the one time.
With each stroke, her body softened and warmed. She loved the sensation of him filling her and then leaving a void, only to fill it again. The feel of him slipping into her was beyond compare. He was so large and hard, and it was as though each thrust claimed another piece of her, leaving her in awe of this powerful act.
She angled her hips to give him greater access, and she swore she could feel him hit rock bottom. Another shiver of desire raced through her at the thought. "More," she whispered.
He pulled from her and rolled her over as though she was nothing but a ragdoll. He lifted her bottom until she was on all fours. Grasping her hips, he filled her again, hitting different muscles, creating a mass of delicious sensations. She gripped the sleeping bag as he slammed into her, her breasts tingling as they rocked each time he drove inside.
When she could no longer contain the white, frenzied heat licking at her, her muscles contracted and went slack. She lost her balance and fell forward into the pillow. He rolled her again, penetrating her over and over until her mind was a blurry haze of sensation. She gasped and clenched again.
Milo swore and went rigid, not moving for a few long seconds, before he collapsed on top of her.
The quiet night settled around them again, cooling her overheated skin. It was several moments before anyone spoke.
"I don't know what to say, Ariana." His voice was hoarse, breathless.
"I do." She gave him a long, lingering kiss. "Thank you, Milo. I'll always treasure this."
"Shit," he whispered under his breath. He rolled, hauling her against him, cradling her with strong, protective arms.
* * *
The harsh morning light hit Milo square in the face, waking him from a beautiful slumber. He opened his eyes and blinked, his brain slow to process the devastating scene in front of him. Ariana lay next to him, wearing only his unbuttoned shirt, the lower half of his body having no trouble responding to her luscious breasts that peeked from beneath the flannel. Her hair had scattered in a tumbled mess on her half of the pillow they'd shared. Both of their jeans and a pair of silky black panties sat tangled in an accusing pile to the side of her.
He closed his eyes, wishing he was home in his bed and this had all been a sweet fantasy.
When he opened them, she still lay there in all her beautiful glory. Already, he craved her touch and the feel of her body giving in.
"Hell," he whispered. He'd really fucked up this time. Did he have no moral scruples at all? He'd had the best damn night of his life, but he'd tossed his self-respect out the window when he'd allowed the midnight magic and Ariana's sweet charms to convince him honor didn't matter. The reprehensible part was, he knew without a doubt, he'd turn around and do it again. His father would be ashamed of his behavior.
He found his shirt and boxers and slipped them on. With stealthy fingers, he slid the quilts up to cover her so he wouldn't be tempted to take her again. He reached across her and snatched his jeans, leaving her clothes to fare it alone. He maneuvered his feet into his pants and wrestled until they were over his hips and buttoned.
The gentle sounds of nature pervaded the area, giving Milo one last shot at peace before he woke Ariana and the fallout began. He visually caressed her face, the contours of her cheeks, the graceful curve of her lips. In a perfect world, he'd be able to lean over and kiss her, make fiery love to her once again in the early morning light before anyone else woke. Unfortunately, this was far from a perfect world.
"Fuck." He blew out a breath and leaned close to her ear, catching a hint of her lilac perfume. The provocative scent instantly took him back to the previous night and the third time they'd made love. She'd curtained them with her long tresses while she'd ridden him to paradise. That image of her would forever be etched in his mind.
This was going to be a hell of a hard mess to clean up.
"Ariana." He gently shook her shoulder. "Wake up."
She lifted her lids, peering at him with her unforgettable turquoise eyes and smiled. "Good morning," she said in a sleepy voice.
"Morning," he replied more gruffly than he should have. He climbed out the side of the truck. "I'm going to gather our chairs and cooler while you get dressed, and then we'll head home."
He caught the glimpse of hurt and confusion in her eyes before he turned away, but she had to recognize there would be consequences for their careless behavior the night before. Whether they wanted it or not, they had no future together.
* * *
With careful precision, Ariana sighted in one of the coffee cans and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through the late evening atmosphere and nailed the can. Hitting her target didn't make her feel any better. A week had passed. She and Milo had barely had a decent conversation. He'd provided her with everything she needed as far as food and a place to sleep, but he'd retreated inside a shell so far she couldn't reach. Days were spent with him working in the yard or fishing with his friends. She'd been allowed to tag along, but there had been no personal moments alone. If no one else was around and there were no chores left to do, he'd immersed himself in his precious book.
His message had been loud and clear. He regretted their night together and intended to stay as far away from her as possible.
She couldn't bring herself to feel the same way. Being with him, making love to him had been the best thing she'd ever done.
She aimed and pierced the tin of another can. Bored out of her mind, she'd spent a considerable amount of time shooting, and it was starting to show. More times than not, she'd hit the coffee can first shot. She'd even m
oved farther away from the targets and could still hit them a good portion of the time.
But enough was enough. She barely had a week left with Milo, and she was surprised to find she now spent more time worrying about leaving him instead of testifying. In fact, she almost looked forward to accusing her father face-to-face and watching him pay for his crimes. Now that she'd seen the possibilities life had to offer, she cursed her father for ruling over all the lives around him like a vicious dictator. He deserved to die for that if anyone asked her. Years in jail would not replace the precious time he'd stolen from those around him, whether it was out of fear for their lives or for the lives he'd carelessly taken.
No more wasting her life on fear. She'd own her time and live each day to the fullest. If that meant she died sooner, at least she'd perish while she was living. And this mess between her and Milo, this not talking to each other, was ridiculous, and she'd had enough. She slipped the gun into Milo's holster and headed inside.
She left the handgun hanging on the pantry door and moved to the entry of the living room. He sat on the brown leather couch, his eyes glued to the pages of his book. She knew he knew she was there. If he could sense her presence while he was asleep on the couch, he damn well could sense her now.
"We need to talk." She walked forward until she stood directly in front of him.
"No, we don't." He didn't spare her a glance.
"I say we do."
He looked at her beneath his brows. "Are you safe? Are you cared for? Then my job is complete."
If she didn't know his background, she'd be deeply hurt. "I'm sorry our night together had such a profoundly negative effect on you. For me, it was a night I'll cherish forever."
He slammed the book shut and shoved it to the side as he stood. His black t-shirt showcased the outline of his well-defined chest, and she had to refrain from reaching out to him.
"Damn it, Ariana. Don't make it sound like I'm some insensitive cad and that making love didn't mean as much to me as it did to you."
She much preferred the fiery side of him to being ignored. "If it meant so much, then why are you so cold to me?"