by Faver, JD
In a few minutes they reached a neat frame house and yard. There was a dark red barn and several out buildings. She saw horses and pigs and chickens.
A large dog of indistinct origins came bounding up to greet them.
The giant stopped the tractor and set her on her feet, before unhooking her car.
“Your automobile will be safe here.” He stowed the chain on the deck of the tractor.
She looked around, taking a few steps away and stumbled when she scuffed a pebble into her sandal. She balanced on one leg and then bent down, trying to dislodge the pebble. She was aware that her shorts were displaying way too much of her backside.
Large fingers splayed around her arm to steady her and then he scooped her into his arms. His gaze flicked over her before he began to walk purposefully toward the house. The dog then fell into step beside the giant.
She was slung across his muscular arms and plastered against his work hardened chest. He carried her effortlessly, but the heat emanating from his tanned skin was creating a strong reaction within Mel. She clasped his neck, aware of her bare thighs against his forearm.
He set her down on the wooden porch. “Take off your shoes and go into the house. I will take care of the animals.” He strode off toward the barn.
Mel glanced around. The house looked well cared for. It was freshly painted and a neatly manicured vegetable garden grew to one side.
She approached the front door with trepidation, reaching out to knock on the doorframe. “Hello? Is anyone there?” No answer. She slipped out of her mud-encrusted sandals and knocked again before trying the knob. It was unlocked. Mel took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold.
The last rays of sunlight filtered through sheer curtains at the windows. Everything was neat and tidy, but the house held a sense of being closed up, as though no voice had been raised in laughter here for a long time.
Mel ventured further inside, then realized she was holding her breath. She relaxed her shoulders and straightened her spine. Not going to get spooked over an old house.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the steps and the giant burst through the door, his arms filled with wood. He hung his hat on a peg by the door and dropped the wood on the floor beside a strange looking stove in his kitchen.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “It’s a little early in the year for a fire, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I did not know the lady wanted a cold bath.” His voice dripped sarcasm.
“Cold? No, I...”
He shot her a long look before loading the wood into the cast iron stove and setting it alight. He turned to the sink and pumped water into two large galvanized pails, then set them directly on the stove. “The water will be hot soon. You had best get ready.” He pointed toward an open door.
Mel stared through it uncertainly. “What’s in there?”
He put his foot on a bench and started unlacing his boots, the muscles working in his bare arms. “It is your room.”
“My room? I can’t stay here!” She gaped at him, open-mouthed. “Not the two of us...here alone...all night.”
He slipped his boots off and set them outside the front door. “Where, then?”
“There’s not a hotel in town?”
“What town? The nearest town is thirty miles in that direction.” He pointed out the doorway. “Start walking, if you wish to make it by nightfall.”
Mel swallowed hard. “It’s just that...”
“Do not worry about me. I am a perfect gentleman.”
A smile twirked the corners of her mouth. She visually cruised the tall, broad-shouldered man standing before her. Not her idea of a gentleman.
But he was her idea of a real hunk. In his stocking feet he stood about six-foot-five or six, at least a whole foot taller than her. “I see. Well, thank you for your hospitality, Mister...Mister…?”
“Engle. My name is Helmut Engle.”
“Mel. Melanie Hannigan.” She held out her hand to him.
He glanced at it and then enveloped her hand in his much larger one. It was warm, dry and rough, similar to having one’s hand wrapped in a well-used baseball glove.
“Please call me Mel.”
A flicker of amusement in the depths of his eyes. A dimple showed beside his mouth. “I will.”
Oh, my God! He’s cute! A bigger, badder Brad Pitt with his longish sun-washed, dirty blonde hair and dimples. I’m in so much trouble here. “Uh, Helmut. Can I borrow a bathrobe?”
“I do not have a bathrobe, but I will lend you a towel.” He left and reappeared with a large rectangle woven of thick linen fibers.
It was soft and worn but, Mel figured it would be absorbent. She swallowed as his hand brushed hers. “Thanks. Thank you. Where is your restroom?”
“Behind the house.”
“Where am I going to bathe?” Her voice crept up a whole octave.
He pointed to a corner of the kitchen where a large oval galvanized tub with straight sides sat gleaming. Mel envisioned the entire length of Helmut Engle in the tub and smiled in spite of her discomfort.
“Out here in the open?”
He expressed a loud sigh. “I will fix it. Just get ready. The water is almost hot.”
Mel turned and entered the small, sparsely furnished bedroom. No particular color scheme dominated, but the bed was neatly made with a dark colored patchwork quilt stretched over the top and tucked in tight. No photographs or personal mementos were visible. The top of an oak chest of drawers and a plain nightstand stood empty.
She closed the door and shed her muddy clothes, wrapping herself in the large sheet of fabric.
She stood with her hand on the doorknob, gritting her teeth and giving herself a stern talking to.
What kind of woman would strip naked with a strange man on the other side of the door? What kind of woman would contemplate taking a bath in a metal tub in the middle of the stranger’s kitchen? What kind of woman would look at this stranger with lust in her heart when she had barely learned his name...She sighed. A really dirty woman, that’s who.
A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts. “Mel?”
His deep voice sent a skittering of gooseflesh over her bare skin. She gathered the cloth around her shoulders and opened the door a crack.
“Your bath. It is ready.” He stared into her eyes, then let them trail down her shrouded body, as though he possessed x-ray vision. He turned toward the kitchen and she followed, feeling as though she was headed for the gallows.
When he stepped aside, she saw that he’d strung a rope across the corner of the kitchen and hung a couple of quilts with old-fashioned clothes pegs.
He was looking at her for approval.
A wide grin spread across her face. “Thank you, Helmut. That’s just perfect.”
He smiled again; the flash of his dimples warming her insides. He pulled a quilt aside for her to enter and she saw that he’d lit a candle in the quilt-darkened corner.
There was a wash cloth of the same rough linen weave and a large bar of waxy-looking soap atop a small stool beside the filled tub.
Mel turned to face him, gazing up at the handsome face. “I appreciate all the trouble you’ve gone to for me.”
He swallowed hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “I will leave you to it then.” He dropped the quilt into place and Mel took a deep breath and then let it out. Whew! This guy makes me ache.
She looped the linen towel over a peg beside the tub and stepped into the water. A little hot, but she could stand it. Gripping the sides, she slowly lowered herself into the steamy liquid. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d taken a bath without some sweet-smelling bubble bath or salts. And she used a particular brand of body shampoo with a fresh pear scent. She reached for the cake of soap. It smelled strong and clean, but not anything she could describe as fragrant.
She lathered the cloth and rubbed it over her gritty face. The suds felt good and she worked the cloth down her arm. “Oh! Damn!” The bar of soap squished ou
t of her grip and went skittering across the floor. She started to reach for it and knocked over the stool. She grunted again, then pulled herself to a standing position.
“Mel? Are you alright? Did you fall?” Helmut stepped through the hanging quilt barrier just as Mel stood fully upright, her skin glistening in the candlelight. He froze in place and took in the spectacle slowly. His gaze traveled the length of her, feasting on her nakedness.
Mel stared at him. An ocean of longing poured toward her, reaching out like arms to embrace her. She took a breath and pointed to the floor. “The soap.”
“I see.” He didn’t take his eyes off her, but reached to retrieve it. Extending the bar to her, he stepped nearer.
She heard the ragged breath he drew. A half smile came to her lips as he placed the soap in her hand.
Helmut released the shoulder straps of his overalls.
Mel couldn’t repress her grin. Boxers or briefs?
The overalls slid down his tanned chest, skimmed over his lean hips and muscular thighs before landing on the floor.
Her eyes widened. Oh, commando. Would you look at that?
He stepped out of the overalls and reached for her.
His touch set off a chain reaction. She felt as though a down pillow exploded in her chest, creating a fluffy swirl of feathers. She held out her arms and he stepped into the tub, drawing her into an embrace. As he enfolded her, she registered surprise that such a big man could express tenderness so eloquently.
He held her firmly against his solid length and rested his chin against the top of her head. When he released her, he lowered himself into the water and held out his arms.
Mel’s heart throbbed against her ribcage as she immersed herself, settling between his thighs and into his arms. The idea of taking a bath with a stranger had never entered her mind, but now...
He took the wash cloth and soap and lathered the cloth, stroking it gently over her shoulders, then pulled her back to recline against his torso.
The rough cloth abraded her flesh, but the large hands caressing her were like balm. He extended her arm and washed it with great concentration, his lips close to her ear. His breathing came faster as his palm caressed her breast.
Mel was both relaxed and energized as never before. He kissed the top of her ear and the side of her neck. She turned to seek his mouth, stopping short when she caught the intensity of his gaze. His hunger was palpable, igniting her with the power of his longing.
He caressed her cheek with his fingers and lowered his mouth, his lips soft against hers. Hesitant at first and then bolder as his tongue danced with hers.
A sound escaped her throat, something between a moan and a whimper.
“Melanie?” His voice broke, turning the sound of her name into a plea.
“Yes,” she whispered. Pulling away, she rose, water streaming back into the tub.
Helmut remained seated, staring up at her.
“The bath is over.” She held out her arms to him.
Uncertainty registered on his face as he pulled himself to his feet.
Mel placed both hands on his chest and explored the firm muscles with her fingertips. She wound her arms around his neck and lifted her chin. “Kiss me now.”
A slow grin spread across his face. The flickering candlelight caught the gleam in his eyes. This kiss was hard and slow and touched with desperation as his hands explored her wet body, lifted her against him.
He pulled her higher, her wet breasts sliding over his muscular torso, teasing her nipples with the soft graze of blonde chest hair. One of his hands cupped her butt, pressing her against his magnificent erection.
Mel wrapped her legs around him, gripping him with her thighs. A hard man is good to find. Talk about well endowed!
Helmut stepped from the water and wrapped the towel around them both.
Resolutely, he walked to another door and, pushing it open, carried her to a bed, bigger than the other. Without releasing her, he climbed onto the surface, rolling onto his side.
He stroked his fingertips over her skin, his touch sending shivers to her core. “I will make love with you.”
Mel giggled against his lips. “Just don’t kill me with that thing, okay?”
#
Purchase A TWIST of FATE now:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/72079
Also available from J.D. Faver:
~BAD HABIT~
RT Book Reviews: May, 2012 edition: A fake nun who used to be a model, the complicated dynamics of a big, warm family---plus a hot, protective cop. An author on the rise, Faver's Texas-set books reflect her pride in her home state and her love of both pulse-pounding action and a hot romance.
In an effort to evade the men who killed her boyfriend, former model, Teri Slaughter, flees New York City and takes refuge in a San Antonio convent, masquerading as her own sister. But when hot and hunky homicide detective, Angel Garcia tries to protect her from the killers, he proves to be a threat to her heart. He takes her to the only “safe house” available: the one where he was raised. His parents and siblings take her in and teach her the real meaning of family and home. To protect the nuns, Teri uses herself as bait, leading the killers on a chase through Brackenridge Park on foot, miniature train and golf cart. In the end, the only one to catch her is Angel.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/64744
~THE DOCTOR'S CHOICE~
BADLANDS-Book I
(Contemporary Western Romantic Suspense)
Will she choose love or money? The Cowboy or the City?
The murder of her only relative forces Camryn Carmichael, a lonely young doctor, to choose between her dream career in a Houston research hospital and a rural practice close to rancher, Breckenridge T. Ryan the infuriating man she loses her heart to.
Cowboys, murder and romance. Oh, my!
When her suspicions about her great-aunt’s death prove to be true, she resolves to uncover the villain herself. Breck tries to convince her that the community needs her just as much as he does, but when she uncovers a decades-old crime, she puts her own life is in danger.
Threatened by the diabolical killer and a ‘blue norther’, will she survive long enough to tell the tale?
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/62416
KILL SHOT
A sniper has her in his sight. So does her ex, an over-protective alpha-male cop~Catch KILL SHOT!
J.D. Faver fans will love this fast-paced page turner. Readers say: “This was a quick and exciting read with plenty of suspense and enough steam to fog the mirrors. ”…“I enjoyed the Mystery and supporting characters…”…“How they overcome their differing needs and goals in life is an entrancing story, and how they deal with the danger is exciting. ”
Description: When she shoots the wrong subject, Micki Vermillion, a free-spirited photographer runs to the arms of Oz Osmond, her ex-lover, an over protective alpha-male cop. She chose to carry on in her father’s profession rather than become the wife everyone expected her to be. Now, she has a second chance at happiness if she stays alive that long.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/86516
~BAD GIRL!~
Who's in control? The dominatrix or the cop? BAD GIRL! A sexy thriller.
Lady Heather she ain't but a dominatrix she is. When her clients start dying, Kris Delaney, a beautiful, but damaged dominatrix, is forced to rely on controlling detective Nick Price, an Alpha male who wants her more than he wants his shield.
She fights to maintain her privacy, while struggling to resist Nick, who is everything she fears in a man. Having been a victim in the past, Kris is determined to control her life, but in the face of terrifying serial murders, she's powerless to control her fate.
One-by-one, her clients are dispatched by some grisly means related to their particular kink. As the bodies pile up, Nick tries to keep Kris out of danger and breach her thorny defenses to prove he is worthy of her trust.
A dominatrix, a cop and a killer...Oh, my! Catch
BAD GIRL!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/103074