And since she was the source of those emotions she’d let him exorcise them however he needed.
And she had no doubt she’d enjoy the experience.
Could penance involve pleasure? Her father certainly would have argued otherwise. But as desire coursed beneath her skin, Ainsley thought that just maybe it could.
Together they could find absolution, forgiveness and the comfort they should have always offered each other. The relief only he could give her.
He tore at her clothes, straining their seams and threatening to ruin them. Slapping his hands away, with trembling fingers, she unbuttoned her own shirt and let it drop to the floor. She was distracted from finishing the job by the sight of Luke’s body being revealed as his own clothes hit the hardwood. He paused long enough to fish a condom from the pocket of his jeans.
They said nothing. No words were necessary. The only sound between them was the heated panting of their ragged breaths.
The floor was hard and cool as they tumbled down, a pile of grappling arms, legs, hands and mouths. They could have moved to the sofa on the far side of the room. Or the rag rug three feet away. Or even the rocking chair.
That would have taken more thought and effort than either of them had to spare. Their only focus was each other.
His fingers scraped down the length of her body, sending pleasure tingling along her skin. He stopped long enough to pinch one of her already-swollen and sensitive nipples. Tweaking, playing, tantalizing. A tug of answering pleasure spiked deep inside her body, an ache so intense and immediate she writhed against him in search of the only relief.
Her nails raked down the center of his chest, snagging for a moment on the puckered flesh of his nipple. His body quaked at the touch. He hissed through his teeth, and his eyes glittered down at her with the promise of retribution.
She didn’t wait. Leaning forward Ainsley nipped at the cord of muscle running from his neck to his shoulder. It stood out from his tense body, strained by the power of his own desire, making it an easy target. The tangy taste of his skin burst beneath her tongue, its saltiness overlaying the sharp tinge of desire.
With a growl, Luke grasped her tight and rolled their bodies, placing himself beneath her. His head dropped back against the floor, his neck, throat and chest open and exposed to her. Her legs straddled his body, bracketing the thick muscle of his thighs between her own.
The wet folds of her sex opened up around the length of his cock, the irrefutable evidence of her desire slipping and sliding between them.
He tortured her by thrusting up against the most vulnerable part of her. He grasped her hips, holding her where he wanted her. Even as he appeared to offer her the power position in their loving, he refused to actually yield to her. She wasn’t even sure if he realized he was doing it. Controlling her in a way that was titillating and frustrating all at the same time.
He wouldn’t let her take what she wanted…what she wanted more than her next breath. But he wouldn’t give it to her, either. Instead, he rubbed against her body. Even as the hard ridge of his erection nudged and stimulated her clit, the internal walls of her sex spasmed at emptiness.
She wanted him inside her. Now. With a fierce need that scared and tormented her.
Even as he kept her on the edge, taking her closer and then pulling the reward away, she began to fight him. To scrape, pinch, nip and bite.
She growled, a sound she could swear she had never made in her entire life, and sank her teeth into his shoulder. This was no love bite.
She pulled away from him to stare down at the livid crescent she’d created and immediately felt remorse. Something she was tired of feeling around this man.
But she couldn’t ignore the urge to reach down and soothe the hurt anyway. Running her tongue over the spot, she licked at him before pressing the softest kiss there.
It was at that precise moment that he reared up and gave her exactly what she’d been silently begging for.
He filled her, stretching her, as her body accepted his invasion. She arched back, grinding her hips down into him in an effort to get every inch of his body into her own.
She could feel him high inside her, the heat and heft of him. Her muscles clenched him as he pulled back out, trying to keep him where she wanted him most.
In no time he returned, with slow, smooth strokes that sent her closer and closer to the edge.
It wasn’t long—seconds, minutes, she had no idea—before she was breaking apart into pieces around him. The world, the pressure and pleasure converged on her in a way that stole every bit of consciousness and coherency from her.
She had no idea what had happened. One minute she was riding the crest of the best orgasm in her life and the next she was lying on the floor beside him.
She had to take stock, actually cataloging the feel of his arm lodged beneath her body at an awkward angle from shoulder to hip. The way one of her legs was thrown over his in a wanton sprawl.
She’d never blacked out in her life, but she thought that maybe it was something like this. Losing seconds or minutes and wondering what the hell you had missed.
The tremors of aftershocks that rocked her body were evidence that she’d more than enjoyed the black hole in her memory.
Her heart still raced, stuttering and protesting as it found a slower rhythm. Beneath the arch of her shoulder, she could feel the answering beat of Luke’s heart against her back.
“Well.” His single word brushed the curved edge of her cheek, fluttering damp tendrils of hair and making the muscles of her sex convulse in yet another tremor.
As nondescript as the word had been she thought it probably said everything. “Well.”
Several minutes of silence stretched between them, their panting breaths the only sound. “If this doesn’t remind me of my misspent youth I don’t know what would.”
Ainsley rolled her head against the floor to look at him, not having the energy to do more than that at the moment. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, thank God Gran didn’t walk in during the middle of that.” She could hear the self-deprecating amusement that laced his words.
“What’s that saying about small favors?”
Chuckling, Luke rolled onto his side, pillowing her body in the crook of his shoulder. Her muscles protested their rough use and the hard surface beneath them, but she didn’t move. She didn’t want to be anywhere but cradled in Luke’s arms.
Propping his head up on his hand, he stared down at her. She could barely hold her eyes open, thanks to a combination of emotional upheaval and earth-shattering orgasm. Unfortunately, Luke didn’t look sleepy at all.
In fact, he looked rather contemplative as his gaze roamed her face. She wondered what he was thinking but figured he would tell her when he was ready. Prying had never gotten her anywhere with this man. Despite what they’d just shared, she had no reason to think it would work tonight.
She’d just close her eyes for a moment while she waited.
The world tilted. Somewhere in her subconscious she registered the change in her position. However, even as her brain told her she was off balance, her instincts told her she was perfectly safe.
Her eyes fluttered reluctantly open anyway.
“You’re fine. I’ve got you.” His words, the warm timbre of his voice, his strong arms around her—she really did feel safe snuggled against him.
Her eyes shut again as she burrowed closer. She knew from the feel of his body against hers that he carried her up the stairs and laid her gently in the center of his bed.
Curling beside her, he maneuvered them together so that her back was tucked into the protective curve of his chest. He slung an arm over her waist, his fingers gently curled around the swell of her breast. A tingle, a muted reminder of what she’d felt earlier, rushed through her at the touch. But there was no demand, no expectation in the contact. Rather, it was a connection—his body to hers.
With a sigh of satisfaction that had nothing to do with her physi
cal fulfillment, she feel asleep again, knowing that when she woke he would still be right beside her.
AINSLEY CREPT DOWN THE vacant hallway to the sanctuary of her office. Early-morning light streamed through the windows, taking the chill from the air. She’d strategically placed the desk chair in the best spot of sunshine. It was one of her pleasures, to sit here in the quiet morning soaking up the warmth like a cat.
However, today she didn’t have time for that.
She wanted to get through her work early because she had no idea what the rest of the day might hold.
Her body ached in the most satisfying way. She wanted to spend the rest of the day with Luke. Laughing. Loving. Or simply sharing her happiness with him.
However, that bubbling euphoria was severely dampened when she saw the reminder note waiting for her on the computer keyboard. She’d forgotten all about Luke’s financial paperwork.
For the sale of the orchard.
She was an idiot. No, that wasn’t precisely true. She was a romantic fool who’d let her body overrule her mind once again. She could build all the castles in the sky she wanted, it wasn’t going to change the fact that this time with Luke was fleeting.
He’d be gone before the ink on the sale documents could dry.
Sitting alongside the sticky note were the college applications that she’d been avoiding for weeks. No more. It was time to face the truth and put her plan into action.
It took her an hour to complete three of the applications. Stamping and addressing their envelopes, she set them to the side and changed her focus.
Half an hour later, she finished pulling together the financial reports Luke had asked for. It made her slightly upset to look at them…to see what she and his grandparents had done over the past eight years, what he was throwing away. They were profitable. Actually, they were a successful enterprise. Agriculture wasn’t exactly the easiest way to earn a living, but they’d made it work for them. They’d spent years building a reputation for high quality.
None of that mattered to Luke. Two days ago she’d told herself she didn’t care what he did.
Today she had to admit she’d lied. Then and now. She did care. She didn’t want to see him give up a heritage that one day he’d miss. She didn’t want to see him make a decision he’d regret.
But there was nothing she could do about it. She held no delusions about what was going to happen. As much as last night had meant to her—and, she hoped, to him—he wouldn’t change the course that he’d set. He was selling, leaving.
Sadness coursed through her as she closed the program and reached for the pages spitting out onto the printer beside her.
Stacking them together and grabbing the envelopes, she headed for the kitchen. In her current mood she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see him there or not.
It turned out, she didn’t have to decide. Instead of Luke, Gran sat in the kitchen. She stared out the window at the orchard. Her eyes held a faraway sadness that compounded Ainsley’s own melancholy.
“Gran?”
She turned to take Ainsley in, a motion that seemed to take much longer than it should. As if, while she wanted to participate in the world around her, the temptation to sit there staring out that window and ignoring everything was too great.
“Ainsley. Good morning. I’m sorry I didn’t make coffee…” She trailed off, leaving the end of her statement but I didn’t feel like doing it unsaid. That was so unlike the Gran she’d always known.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
Dropping the papers onto the counter, Ainsley noticed another stack sitting in a neat pile at the far edge.
She stepped over, a quick glance telling her they were Luke’s. For the Realtor. She added hers to the top, knowing that when he finally did come down he’d see them immediately.
With a snap in her step, she returned to the main counter area and quickly pulled together a breakfast of pumpkin spice muffins and coffee.
Sitting down across from Gran, Ainsley was happy to see her eyes more focused. That faraway look scared her. She was afraid that one day Gran just wouldn’t come back.
“Gran? I have to run into town. Can you tell Luke that I’ve left the information he needed with his papers? He asked me to email them to the Realtor but he didn’t leave me her address.”
Gran nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across her lips. “Certainly, dear.”
Ainsley narrowed her eyes, but Gran definitely seemed more coherent. She’d follow up later but right now she needed to get to town and back. Preferably before Luke realized she was gone.
Dropping her applications into the mailbox had somehow become the most important task in her day. However, while she was out, and if he was hell-bent on selling, perhaps she could have some influence over who ended up with the property.
12
LUKE STIRRED IN BED, reaching out even half-asleep and searching the covers beside him. For what? Who?
His eyes popped open. Ainsley.
Who wasn’t there.
Her side of the bed was rumpled. However, the entire bed looked as if a tornado had passed over it, twisting the covers into a lump. It certainly hadn’t bothered him last night.
He’d had one need last night. Ainsley. He’d been consumed with the desire to imprint his body and soul onto every square inch of her skin, to leave no doubt that she was his.
And despite everything, he wanted to do it again. Right now. Which made him a little grumpy as he rolled from the bed alone.
Where was she?
Throwing on the first clothes he could find, he headed down the hallway to her room. It, too, was empty, the bed undisturbed.
That soothed the anxious sensation that churned in his stomach. At least she hadn’t slipped from his bed to her own sometime in the wee hours of the morning. That idea did not sit well with him—that while he was apparently becoming more and more obsessed with her, she could dismiss him so easily.
No, the authoritative businessman he’d become took issue with the loss of control and power in that scenario.
However, apparently that was not what had happened so…
He backtracked down the hallway and headed to the main floor.
He could hear sounds in the kitchen so that’s where he looked first, a smile of anticipation spreading across his face.
Finding Gran at the sink was not what he’d expected. As much as it helped to see her doing the mundane chore she’d handled every night during his childhood, she wasn’t Ainsley.
“Morning, Gran.”
She turned to look at him, a smile lifting up one corner of her mouth, as if she didn’t have the emotions to fully back it up.
“Luke. Would you like some breakfast, dear?”
“No, no. I’ll just grab a cup of coffee.” He reached for a mug and poured from the pot on the counter. Turning to lean against the worn Formica counter, he crossed his arms and took his first hot, invigorating sip.
“Have you seen Ainsley?”
“Yes, dear.” Reaching over, Gran patted his arm with a still-damp hand, leaving four thin strips of water against the dark gray of his shirt. “As a matter of fact, she asked me to let you know she emailed those numbers to the Realtor before she went into town.”
He let that sink in for a second. She’d been busy this morning. “Do you know where she was going?”
“She didn’t say.”
“I wish she’d waited for me. I have to run into town later. We could have gone together.” With a shrug, Luke turned to press a quick kiss to Gran’s papery thin cheek. “I’m going to go call into the office first, though. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Not a thing.” This time when she smiled up at him the expression seemed a little easier, a little fuller. “You’re a good boy, Luke.”
While her compliment warmed him from the inside out, it also made him slightly uneasy—Gran seemed to be living in her own world lately, and he wondered if he was missing something important
.
GRAN OPENED THE DOOR beneath the sink, pulling the trash can out on the little runners Ainsley had installed for them several years ago. She was such a sweet girl. Always finding ways to help, to make life easier.
It broke Gran’s heart to see her so sad after everything she’d been through. If there was a girl who deserved a little happiness, it was Ainsley. Gran understood the pain of losing a child too early… But she’d had her Brian to get her through. Ainsley had no one.
No one except Luke.
They were so perfect together. How could they not see?
Shaking her head, Gran picked up the last plate from breakfast and scraped the remains of her picked-apart muffin into the trash…on top of the papers Ainsley had prepared for Luke’s Realtor.
Some people just needed a little help.
AINSLEY RETURNED FROM running errands and posting her applications to find Luke gone. He wasn’t in the house and she didn’t figure that he’d gone outside to wander the orchard alone. Every time he’d wanted to see the farm he’d taken her with him—he needed her expertise. So she assumed he’d also headed into town on some errand.
The house was quiet. Too quiet after days of tension—both sexual and antagonistic—between them. She almost missed the charged energy now that he was gone.
She poked her head into Gran’s room only to discover that she was taking a nap.
Going back downstairs to the office, she settled into the business of running the orchard. While she was honored to do it, the time she’d spent making arrangements for Pops had put her severely behind on the day-to-day operation of running a business.
She’d just gotten started when a loud knock on the front door startled her. They almost never had visitors, not to the farmhouse anyway.
Opening the door, she studied the three people standing on her front porch. Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid, a couple that she knew rather well because they owned a peach farm in the area. And a tall woman with a slick blond bob, blood-red fingernails and a tailored gray pantsuit that most certainly did not belong on the farm.
What Might Have Been Page 11