His Convenient Wife
Page 18
Maybe. But even so, she was relieved to know, without a doubt, she was the only one he’d been with. “Does the pain go away?”
“Yes, but this time, maybe not. Next time, it should be better.”
She ran her hands up his arms and pulled him closer to her. At least now she was prepared. Her mother had offered to tell her about what to expect, but since she didn’t believe she’d ever be in bed with Stan, she refused to listen to her. But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was that she was with him, and she could still give him pleasure.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him toward her, acutely aware that the tip of his erection was pressing against her entrance.
“We can wait.”
“It’ll be better next time. You said so,” she reminded him, even as a part of her dreaded the idea of having him in her again. But she’d do it. And next time, maybe it wouldn’t hurt at all. “It’s alright, Stan. I’m telling you to do it.”
He gave her another kiss and nodded. “I’ll try to be quick.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by being quick, especially when he eased back into her. But she did notice the pain wasn’t as intense as before. In fact, it had dulled to the point where it was bearable. And he was gentle with her. He moved slowly into her then almost all the way out before sliding back in. It wasn’t long before he grew taut and groaned, signaling that he had found his release.
When he relaxed, she held him in her arms. Shortly, his breathing grew steady and long, notifying her that he’d fallen asleep. She didn’t mind. It gave her time to hold him and enjoy this moment when he was completely hers.
***
Stan didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, he was resting in Harriett’s arms, his head settled on her breasts. And more than that, he was fully erect and eager to make love to her again. He’d never experienced anything so wonderful in his entire life. And better yet, he got to experience it with Harriett.
His pa had told him there was a difference between being intimate with just any woman versus a wife. Both offered pleasure, his pa had said, but the pleasure offered by the wife was a lasting one. It was more fulfilling, and it made the man feel closer to her afterwards. Such was not the case with the woman who simply offered a temporary release. Randy hadn’t seemed to care one way or another what happened with Maggie’s mother. He’d found her to be an amusement and had gotten some satisfaction from being with her, but as much as Stan hated to think ill of his friend, Randy’s motives had been selfish. And Maggie’s mother knew it, which was why she left Omaha.
Stan couldn’t imagine thinking of Harriett the same way Randy had thought of Maggie’s mother. In a short time, Harriett had become the most important part of his life. All the time, she’d been right in front of him, but he’d been too dumb to realize how perfect she was for him.
Well, he wasn’t so dumb anymore. He’d gotten smart before it was too late to miss out on the best for his life. And there was no doubt about it. Harriett was the best. Having spent the last two months with her showed him how much better she was than anyone else ever would have been.
Stan lifted his head and studied her breasts, tracing the white mounds with his fingers then brushing her nipples which hardened. He hadn’t planned to make love to her again tonight in light of the fact that their first time had been painful for her. And even though he tried to talk himself out of waking her, the male part of him wasn’t patient enough to wait for tomorrow.
They’d gone through their first time, after all. So maybe their second time would be pleasurable for her. At the very least, he could ask her if she’d be willing to make love again. If not, he’d wait. But he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep unless he asked her.
Rising on his elbows, he scooted further up. He hadn’t realized that by doing so, his penis would be pressing nicely against her opening. She was so very soft and still wet from their first coming together. He let out a low moan and kissed her neck, murmuring her name as he did so.
She let out a sigh and stirred beneath him.
Lifting his head, he kissed her on the mouth. He told himself to show some restraint, to wait until she was fully awake before initiating love making, but her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer to her. And this action allowed the tip of his penis to dip inside her.
As good as it felt, he didn’t dare proceed, not until he had her permission. Because if he hurt her again… He definitely didn’t want that. The reminder gave him enough control to stop, and his shaft settled against her sensitive nub.
“Harriett,” whispered in her ear between kisses.
She shifted and rocked her hips so that her flesh was rubbing against him. The sensation felt incredible to him, but even more so, he was aware of the way her breathing grew faster and her actions more insistent. He remained still and let her continue, closing his eyes so he could fully enjoy each up and down motion against him. Truly, it felt like heaven, and it was so much better than his hand. Maybe in the future she’d stroke him. He’d love to feel her hand around him.
At first, he thought his were the only moans in the room, but it soon occurred to him that she was also expressing her pleasure. And what aroused him even more was that she wasn’t quiet about it. There was no mistaking how much she was enjoying this activity. He had no idea shy and quiet Harriett Larson was capable of so much passion.
Lifting his head, he watched her in the moonlight, doing his best to memorize the look on her face when she was fully aroused. She never looked more beautiful, and better than that, he was the one responsible for it. Her fingers dug into his hips and her rocking grew more insistent.
Between her moans, she murmured his name, and he warmed in pleasure. Lowering his head, he kissed her cheek and whispered her name in return, the simple action seeming to border more on devotion than sensual excitement. Yes, there was no doubt about it. Being with her this way was definitely bringing him closer to her, and he hoped it had the same effect on her. That it would bind their hearts together in the same way the vows had bound their lives together.
Before long, she let out a final cry and stilled. Gasping, she held onto him, and he kissed her cheeks, her forehead, and her lips. He’d given her completion. Not someone else. This would be something they would only give each other.
When she relaxed, he brought his mouth back to hers and gave her a lingering kiss, his tongue brushing against hers, his need for release pressing him to complete what they’d started. He wiggled against her until his tip was, once more, just shy of entering her.
Thinking it best to seek her permission first, he asked, “Can I enter you?”
“Yes,” she murmured and lifted her hips to take him in.
He slid easily into her. The resistance he’d felt before was no longer there, and she didn’t stiffen. But he had to make sure it didn’t hurt this time. He studied her face, searching for any signs of discomfort.
She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. “Is something wrong?”
“I…” How did he word this? Finally, he settled for a generic, “Are you alright?”
“Yes. It doesn’t hurt at all this time,” she assured him.
“Good.”
Relieved, he kissed her. More than anything, he wanted her to get as much enjoyment out of their time in bed as he did. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. Then he gave himself completely to the moment.
This time was better than the one before because this time, he didn’t have to hurry in order to make things easier for her. He was allowed to set a slower pace, which gave him more time to fully appreciate the process of making love. And when he finally reached the peak, he held her close while he released his seed. He’d thought it was incredible the first time, but this was much better.
Afterwards, he rolled off of her and brought her into his arms. He kissed her once more then encouraged her to rest her head on his shoulder. She snuggled up to him and
closed her eyes, and he smiled. He’d never felt closer to another person in his entire life, and in all honesty, he couldn’t think of a better person to share this moment with than Harriett Craftsman.
Chapter Twenty-One
When Harriett woke up, the early morning light filtered through her curtains and hit the wall across from her. It was the time she usually woke up, but this morning felt different somehow. Then she became aware that she wasn’t alone.
She glanced behind her and saw Stan sleeping on his back, the blanket pulled up to his waist, exposing his bare chest, which was lightly covered with hair. Face warm, she quickly looked away. No doubt, the rest of him was just as bare as his chest.
And she… She clutched the blanket to her breasts. She’d broken her own rule. She let him into her bed. It wasn’t supposed to happen. What had she been thinking? Why didn’t she put a stop to it as soon as he kissed her?
Because she was weak. When it came to Stan, it was nearly impossible to tell him no. And they didn’t just make love once. They made love twice. Who knew if he’d been thinking of her or Rose? She looked just like her sister. It’d be easy enough for him to pretend he was with Rose instead of her. Worse, the entire night was a blur. She couldn’t remember if he’d said Rose’s name or not during any part of their time together. If he did…
No, she wouldn’t think about it. She lifted the blanket from her body and eased out of the bed. She had to get out of this room. The sooner she did, the sooner she could think clearly. Stepping over his clothes, she went to the washbasin and washed up as quietly as she could, praying he wouldn’t wake up.
After she was done, she grabbed her clothes. Then she looked for her hairpins and saw they were scattered across the floor. Her cheeks flushed. She hadn’t even thought of where Stan put those when he took them out of her hair, but right now, she didn’t want to dwell on it. Instead of trying to retrieve them all, she grabbed a ribbon from the top drawer in the dresser then hurried out of the room. Once she shut the door softly behind her, she released her breath, unaware she’d even been holding it.
She glanced around the hall and considered dressing in his room but thought better of it. No. He might wake up and come to that room. Then what? It’d be even more embarrassing than what she was going through at the moment.
Finally, she tiptoed down the steps and got dressed in the kitchen. She couldn’t recall a time she’d dressed in under two minutes, but she swore that was how long it took. After she fastened the last button on her shirtwaist, she ran her fingers through her hair, doing her best to work out the tangles the best she could. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do. She gathered her hair at the nape of her neck and tied the ribbon around it.
There. Maybe that wasn’t so bad. She crossed the room and went to the window so she could get a good look at her reflection. Her hair was a bit messed up, and she had to redo one of the buttons, but other than that, no one would guess she was out of sorts.
She really had no control when it came to Stan. She should have been able to handle a kiss, and yet, she hadn’t. How did Rose do it?
It didn’t matter. He’d probably been thinking of Rose the whole time anyway. It wouldn’t have mattered to him if she let him into her bed. He wasn’t the one who insisted on sleeping in different rooms. And for all she knew, men didn’t care who they slept with. One woman was probably just as good as another.
She heard Stan’s familiar footsteps and considered bolting out of the house. But where would she go? Maybe to see her parents? Maybe to see Rose? If she wasn’t so flustered, she’d be able to think clearly enough to make a plan of escape.
She caught sight of the kitchen door and slipped out to the porch. As soon as she quietly shut the door behind her, she paused. Now where should she go? To the barn? He took care of the animals every morning. She heard him call out her name from inside the house. Gasping, she crept along the wraparound porch to a spot where he wouldn’t be able to see her if he looked out the windows.
Why was she running from him? This was ridiculous. But even as she criticized herself for acting so rashly, she couldn’t seem to help it. Something in her was too scared. She didn’t understand it. She wouldn’t be able to explain it if someone asked.
The front door opened, and he poked his head out. She stood still, sure she must be quite the sight, staring straight at him like a deer who just caught sight of a hunter. Why didn’t she think he might check for her by opening the door?
He smiled and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. “Did you come out to enjoy the morning air?”
“Um…” Should she lie and tell him she did? She scanned the land around them. Was there anything she could claim to be looking at? Then her gaze went to the new flowerbed she’d been working on. “I was checking on the flowers your ma was kind enough to give me.” There. That should work.
He went over to the railing and peered down at them. “You did a lot of work through here. The place looks better already.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s a labor of love.”
“Well, you’re doing a wonderful job. But then, everything you do comes out wonderful.”
He closed the distance between them, and she wanted to shift away from him, but her stubborn feet wouldn’t obey her silent command. He was smiling at her in the same charming way that always made her heart skip a few beats faster. He cupped her face in his hands. Then he lowered his head and kissed her, his lips gentle on hers.
Something in her finally snapped, and she was able to pull away from him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching for her.
Dodging him, she hurried to the other side of the porch. She almost went to a chair, but then he could sit next to her and she’d have to be close to him again. She just couldn’t handle that. Not right now. Not when everything in her body was screaming at her to go back to him. She craved his touch and his kiss. She wanted more of it. But another part of her wouldn’t have it.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she finally said once she trusted her voice to remain even. “I just don’t think kissing is a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
She looked over at him and noted the bewildered expression on his face. Why? Answer him, Harriett. Tell him something. But she couldn’t come right out and ask him if he’d been thinking of Rose last night. Not only did it seem highly inappropriate, but she didn’t know what words to use.
His expression softened, and he stopped advancing toward her. “I know I hurt you the first time,” he slowly began. “But I thought the second time, you were fine. Was I wrong? Did I hurt you again?”
“No, it’s not that.”
He relaxed. “Then what is it?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Something’s bothering you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She made a move to go to the kitchen door, but he blocked her. “What are you doing?”
“Whatever’s going on, I want to know what it is.”
“But I don’t want to talk about it.”
She tried to go around him, but he moved in front of her, successfully blocking her once again. Irritated, her gaze met his. Why couldn’t he let the matter go? Why did he have to press the issue?
“I don’t like this,” he said. “After last night, this was the last thing I expected.”
She stiffened. “What did you expect?”
“I thought we’d be laughing and hugging and kissing and,” he shrugged, “enjoying the day. But for some reason, it’s worse than it was before because now you’re shutting me out completely.”
“I’m not shutting you out.” Even as she said it, her conscience condemned her for lying. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
“Like what?”
Noting the challenge in his tone, a thin line formed on her lips. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“You do when you’re pushing me away.”<
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He was right. She knew he was right, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. “I need to get Maggie up,” she finally said, making another attempt to slip around him.
But he was too quick for her, and once again, he was standing in front of her. “I’m tired of you using her as an excuse to avoid me.”
“I’m not using her as an excuse to avoid you.”
“No? Before last night, I tried to kiss you twice, but both times you made a flimsy excuse about needing to get to Maggie. It’s not going to work this time. You’re going to tell me what’s going on, and you’re going to do it right now.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“You’re going to do it whether you want to or not. I can’t get past your wall if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
She stared at him for a long moment, noting the determined spark in his eyes and his clenched jaw. She remained silent, sure she looked just as stubborn as he did. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t ask him if he still loved Rose, if he wished he’d married Rose instead of her. All these years, it’d always been Rose. It’d never once been her. But she’d rather not know. And yet, not knowing either way was taking its toll on her, especially after last night.
He let out an irritated groan. “Why are you making this so difficult for me?”
“I’m not trying to.”
“Then just tell me what’s wrong.”
Finally, she blurted out, “I think we should forget last night ever happened. Then everything can return to normal.”
His eyes grew wide. “What? Are you kidding me?”
“I wouldn’t kid about something like this, Stan.”
“Well, I don’t want to forget it.” When she didn’t respond, he ran his hands through his hair and released his breath. “You can’t pretend something as wonderful as last night never happened. It brought me closer to you.”
“I don’t want you to get closer to me.”
He stared at her for a moment, looking as if she’d slapped him. Finally, he whispered, “I don’t want that kind of marriage.”