“Hope.” Her name came out as a growl, full of rough warning, and she loved the sound of it, another sign of the effect she had on him.
It made her want to tease him, push him more, but the moment felt too intense, too serious for that, so she let him go and picked up the condom packet instead. Her fingers felt clumsy as she got out the condom and rolled the latex down, especially since she’d only done this a couple of times before. Plus, she was starting to get as desperate as he was and part of her was a little afraid of how badly she wanted him. It had only been a few minutes since her last climax, and already she was breathless for the next.
Silas didn’t move as she finished with the condom, then looked up at him, but the flames in his eyes almost burned her to the ground.
“Put me inside you,” he ordered.
Another shiver worked its way through her, which was weird. She hadn’t thought she’d find the rough way he told her what to do exciting, but she really did.
Breathless, her heartbeat like a drum in her head, she gripped him, easing herself to the edge of the desk and positioning him. He didn’t wait, one hand coming to rest at the small of her back, holding her in place, then his hips flexed and he was pressing forward, sliding inside her, deep and slow and relentless.
A helpless gasp escaped her, the stretch and burn of him delicious and too much, and yet at the same time not enough. And it took a few moments for her body to adjust, because he was big and it had been a long time for her, and she had to breathe through it.
He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, his fingers stroking her jaw. “Look at me,” he said in a voice full of darkness and rough heat.
A small, vulnerable part of her didn’t want to, but she did, lifting her gaze to his, feeling the same impact echo through her as she had in the bar just before, only this time it was sharper and there was an intimacy to it that stole all the air from her lungs.
He looked at her so intensely, focusing so completely on her that it felt as if he were reading the contents of her soul.
“Silas,” she whispered, not quite sure whether she wanted to tell him not to look at her like that or to look away. But then the hand at the small of her back firmed, keeping her there as he pushed deeper, and everything she’d been wanting to say went straight out of her head.
He paused deep inside her, part of her, and just looked. And she had the impression that he was memorizing her, memorizing this moment, as if it was something he didn’t want to ever forget.
You don’t want to forget either.
Her throat closed for some mysterious reason, and beneath the intense physical pleasure, she could feel her chest get tight. Because it was true, she didn’t. She had very carefully not thought about Silas like this, as her lover rather than her friend, and there had always been a reason for that.
But she didn’t want to look too closely at that reason so she didn’t. Yet as his other hand lifted, sliding into her hair and cradling the back of her head gently, her eyes prickled.
She wished they wouldn’t. Wished he wouldn’t see what this moment was doing to her, because it should have only been about physical pleasure, and it wasn’t. Yet she couldn’t look away. Because even though he was holding her so gently, it was his gaze that held her fast. Intense and brilliant, full of desire and heat, all those passions he kept buried finally there for her to see.
He stole her breath completely.
One of his hands dropped to the small of her back again, keeping her in place, while he continued to cradle the back of her head with the other, then he began to move, drawing himself out of her and then back in.
Hope shuddered, a deep, lazy pleasure stretching out inside her.
He didn’t speak, his thrusts long and so achingly slow, as if he had all the time in the world and wanted to savor each and every second.
It drove her crazy.
The pleasure wound tighter, and she found herself holding on to his powerful shoulders, lifting her hips in time with the movements of his, trying to intensify the friction, urging him to go faster. But maddeningly, he kept up that same lazy pace, making her pant.
“Si, please,” she heard herself say. “Faster. I need…more…please.”
But he only caressed her jaw and the side of her neck, the hand at the small of her back sliding up her spine, pulling her in closer, yet not changing the movements of his hips one iota.
She moaned, shaking against him, and his head bent, his mouth brushing over hers.
“Hush, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You got what you wanted. Now it’s time for me to take what I want.”
Then he kissed her, as leisurely as the way he moved inside her, and there was nothing she could do but give herself up to it.
Hope dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his shoulders, helpless against the pleasure that began to climb with a relentlessness that had her writhing on the desk and gasping his name, building and building and building, until the world began to turn to flame around her.
Only then did he lift his mouth from hers and look down into her eyes, and she could see the flames burning in his gaze too, leaping high. He slipped one hand down between her thighs, giving her one light stroke, and then she was burning too, crying out, a torch flaming in the night.
Dimly, she was aware that he was moving faster, harder, before his hands on her firmed and it was her name she heard, echoing around her, as he followed her into the flames.
* * *
Silas lay on his back in the bed and stared at the ceiling above him. There had been very few times in his life when he’d experienced utter contentment—sitting with Hope beside the river talking about nothing, holding his pilot’s license in his hands for the first time, flying in the wide-open sky—but this was one of those times.
Hope was curled beside him, her head resting on his shoulder, her naked body pressed up against his, the warmth of her breath sighing over his skin, and he couldn’t think of one single thing that he wanted to be different.
She was here, where he’d always wanted her to be, in his bed beside him, relaxed and warm and sated from the pleasure he’d given her.
The pleasure she’d given him too.
Making love to her had been everything he’d imagined and more.
He’d taken it slow down in her office because this had been the culmination of years of fantasies and yearning, and now that he had her in his arms, he hadn’t wanted to rush. So he hadn’t. He’d taken his time, savored all the firsts. The first time he kissed her throat, licked her skin, taken her hard nipple into his mouth. The first time he pushed inside her and felt that fire he’d always known lay at the heart of her wrap around him and hold him tight.
Yes, he wanted to remember that, keep it forever, because he’d be gone soon enough, and he had to have something to take with him. Not only that, though. He also wanted to leave her with something to remember him by. Something she maybe couldn’t get from any other man.
A dark possessiveness moved through him at the thought of her being with someone else, making his jaw tense, and he had to shove the emotion away hard before he did something stupid like tell her he’d changed his mind and had decided to stay after all.
“How long?” Hope asked softly in the darkness, her fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest. “How long have you felt that way about me?”
After they’d recovered from the intense sex they’d had down in her office, he’d helped her get dressed, then had basically ordered her upstairs and into his room. She hadn’t argued, not even once, and they’d both managed to get up there without anyone noticing, which was kind of a miracle.
Not that he cared if anyone had noticed. As far as he was concerned, Hope was his and would remain so for the duration of his visit; too bad what anyone else thought.
“A long time.” He stroked his hand down the silky skin of her spine then back up again. �
��But if I was to pinpoint a moment, it was when you turned up at the swimming hole in that bikini.” He grinned in the darkness, remembering. “I had to stand in the water for hours so I wouldn’t embarrass myself.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Oh really? I did wonder why you kept on refusing to get out even though you were starting to go blue.”
“The problems of being a guy.” He spread his fingers out on her back, stroking his thumb across her skin. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just interested, I guess.”
There was a silence, then she said quietly, “I’m sorry, Si. I told myself it was Cal I wanted, but I don’t think it was, not really. He was the safe option, because he wasn’t interested in me. And you were…” She stopped.
Not safe, presumably, though he didn’t say it out loud.
And you weren’t, not for her.
No, he’d wanted her intensely and deeply, and that had always been his problem.
“Don’t cry,” his father had snapped at him during his mother’s funeral, as he’d stood there with the tears running down his face. “I haven’t got time for that bullshit.”
But it wasn’t time that his father didn’t have—it was energy. His wife’s death had left him grief-stricken and unable to cope with Silas’s grief as well as his own, and so Silas had kept his feelings locked away so he didn’t make things any worse. Had made sure his own sadness didn’t impinge on his father’s, that he didn’t demand anything from him.
Not unless he was drunk, right?
That was the problem. His father was only mean when he was sober. Drunk, he was like the father Si remembered before his mother died. A loving, caring man.
Si had never known which dad he was going to get on any given day, yet his own feelings remained, boiling away inside him, burning so intensely that it felt sometimes as if they were eating him alive. He’d needed some outlet for them, and that’s when escaping into the sky had been a godsend. Where he could leave the deadweight behind and soar in the air with nothing weighing him down.
The upshot of that though was that he hadn’t ever wanted to expose Hope to the need inside him, to the strength of what he felt for her. Because if his father hadn’t been able to cope with him, how could she?
He’d wanted to keep her, make her his, make her stay with him forever, but Hope was fire, and you couldn’t contain fire. It needed to burn. Keeping her would have smothered her, and he hadn’t wanted to do that. Besides, she had so many plans, so much excitement for the future, and none of those futures involved staying in Deep River. And he hadn’t been able to leave.
Things were different now; their positions were reversed—he was going to leave while she wanted to stay. Yet everything else was still the same.
“I’m still not the safe option,” he said into the darkness, wanting her to understand. “If that’s what you’re wondering.”
Her fingers moved in tiny circles on his chest, caressing him. “Why not? What makes you think you’re dangerous?”
“Hey, you were the one who implied that I was.”
“You were dangerous because I was eighteen and I wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship.” She let out a little breath. “You were also broody and silent and intense. And I didn’t know what to do with intense.”
He had been. That’s why he and Caleb had worked so well as a team after they’d left, Caleb’s easygoing personality lightening Silas’s tendency toward darkness.
“It’s okay,” he said, savoring the feel of her against his palm. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. It was a long time ago anyway.” And he had her now. He had her just where he wanted her.
“I still wasn’t very nice to you when you came back here.” She drew another circle on his chest. “I missed you, that was the problem.”
He shut his eyes a moment, his chest tightening at the wistful note in her voice, for a second too angry with himself and his decision to stay away to speak. “I should have come back,” he said once he’d forced the anger away. “I was a damn coward not to.”
“It was me, wasn’t it?” Her voice sounded small.
He moved, unable to keep still, turning toward her and taking her into his arms, rolling them until she was beneath him, her soft curves pressed against his hard planes, making him feel hungry again, making him feel desperate.
But he framed her face with his hands, looking down into her eyes. “Yes, it was you, but not because I didn’t want you, Hope. I stayed away because I thought if I came back and saw you again, I’d never want to leave.”
She stared up at him, her expression difficult to read in the darkness. “But you don’t feel that way now, do you?”
He searched her face, looking for what, he didn’t know. And maybe it didn’t matter anyway because his answer was still the same. “No, I don’t. I’m not staying, Hope. I can’t.”
“I know that.” Her hands lifted, and she put them on his shoulders, stroking him, her touch light and yet searing at the same time. “I don’t want you to stay, anyway. My life is here with Mom and the Moose.”
He should have felt relieved about that, but he didn’t. “Do you ever regret it?” he asked, not even sure why he was asking but needing to know all the same. “Do you ever regret that you stayed?”
Her gaze flickered and she glanced away, not answering for a moment, and he got the impression it was because she needed to think about it rather than because she wanted to hide something from him. “No,” she said after a while. “I don’t regret it. Mom needed me and I…I like managing the Moose. It’s a challenge. And I like being able to provide a place for people to come and socialize.” Her gaze came back to his. “What about you? Do you regret leaving?”
Two days ago, he would have said no, he’d never had one minute’s regret about leaving Deep River. But now…now, with her in his arms and the taste of all those might-have-beens on his tongue, he wasn’t so sure.
Except there was no point in telling her that. It wouldn’t change anything and would only make things difficult between them.
“No,” he said, swallowing down the lie. “I don’t regret it.”
She put up a hand, running her fingers along his jaw as if she couldn’t get enough of touching him. “You like being in Juneau?”
“Yeah. It’s the best place for the business to be based. We get the tourists and the hikers. Not to mention all the hunters when hunting season comes along. Got a few businesses using us too, to get supplies to lodges and other places in the bush.”
“Do you like it? Running your business, I mean. Is it what you wanted to do?”
“Yes.” He brushed her cheekbones with his thumbs, caressing her. “I always loved flying, and this is one way I get to do what I love.” He’d never talked to her about this before, and he hadn’t realized how much he liked telling her about what he did until now. “It’s not just about the hikers or hunters. Or running supplies. Or even tourists. Sometimes we get roped into helping search and rescue and flying injured or sick people back to civilization.”
“Yeah, I get it. You like helping people.” In the dimness, her mouth curved. “You always have.”
He didn’t, but he liked the way she said it. And he liked the look in her eyes as she did so. It made him feel good in a way he hadn’t felt since…well, since he’d left Deep River, if he was honest with himself.
“I like the flying,” he said, not willing to admit that it was the helping part that he liked too. “Cal liked that part as well. Though I think he preferred the business side of things.”
A flicker of grief moved over her face, and he let her see a little of his own, sharing it for a second.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I know he did. That was his strength.” Her fingers moved along his jaw once again. “So who have you got to replace him?”
“Truthfully? No one can replace him. But my bud
dy Damon’s good with finance, and he’s filling in for me while I’m here.”
“And what? After all this oil stuff is sorted out, you’ll go back to Juneau and keep on flying?”
He couldn’t detect any undercurrents in the question, so he answered plainly. “That’s the plan. What about you?”
“I’ve got the Moose to run. And then there’s Mom…” A crease appeared between her brows. “I don’t think she’s going to want to keep the lease, Si. I think she wants to sell it, get the money and leave.”
That would be an issue and one they still hadn’t formulated a plan for. “What about her selling the lease to you?”
“I don’t have the money. And it’s the money she wants.” The crease deepened. “She always wanted to leave Deep River. I mean, she was going to, and then she got pregnant with me, had some pretty severe postpartum depression. Which meant she ended up staying.”
Si frowned, not liking the guilty note in her voice. “She could still have left, Hope. She could have left when Bill died.”
“But she couldn’t. She didn’t have the money.”
“You can’t tell me she couldn’t have gotten the money for a plane ticket to somewhere.”
An expression he didn’t understand crossed Hope’s face. “You know she couldn’t do that, not alone. She needs to have someone with her.”
Si studied her for a second. “You mean your mother told you that you had to go with her, am I right?”
“But I would have to.” Hope looked up at him. “Living alone would be very difficult for her. She needs someone to monitor her, see that she takes her meds. Stuff like that.”
“That could be arranged with some mental health support. It doesn’t have to be you. Because if all Angela wants is to leave Deep River, then hell, I’ll see if I can help you get some cash together to buy the lease off of her.”
Hope’s expression hardened. “It’s not that easy, Si. Mom’s never lived anywhere else before. She’s never actually had to look after herself either. Granddad had to support her when she got pregnant with me, and then after I was born, he had to take care of her because she could barely look after me, let alone herself. I can’t let her go off alone. She wouldn’t be able to function.”
Come Home to Deep River Page 14