Come Home to Deep River

by Jackie Ashenden

  Her heartbeat was getting louder, excitement crowding in her throat. She didn’t look at him, not wanting to lose her nerve, because she hadn’t done this before. “It’s my turn,” she said, as she reached for the button on his jeans. “So let me have it.”

  He gave a rough laugh. “Hell, if you think I’m going to stop you, you’d be wrong.”

  “Good.” She got the button undone and then tugged his zipper down. He was already hard and ready, the outline of him clear beneath the black cotton of his boxers.

  Her breath caught; he was big and she liked that. She liked it very much indeed. He’d filled her completely last night, and now she wanted to taste him, put her mouth on him. Drive him as insane as he’d driven her.

  She reached out and stroked him, running her finger down the hard ridge, thrilling as she heard his breath catch as much as hers had.

  “Are you teasing me, sweetheart?” His hands had dropped to her hair, lazily pulling her ponytail out.

  “Maybe,” she said breathlessly, tugging down his boxers and reaching for him, curling her fingers around the long, hard length of his erection and drawing him out. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing.” He sounded even rougher now, his voice deepening. “Not a goddamn thing.”

  She wanted to stroke him, squeeze him, tease him the way he was accusing her of doing, but she didn’t want to wait. So she didn’t hesitate, leaning forward and touching her tongue to him, letting the salty flavor of him fill her senses.

  He groaned, his hands tightening in her hair, the sound shivering across her skin like a caress. So she did it again and then again, licking him, tasting him. Then opening her mouth and taking him inside.

  “Hope…” Her name sounded like a prayer. “God…”

  She kept her fingers wrapped tight around him, taking him in as far as she could, then beginning to suck.

  He muttered a low curse, his hips flexing, thrusting into her mouth slowly at first, as if he could sense her inexperience. She might have found that patronizing at another time, but right now she was glad. Because it meant she could make this good for him. And she wanted to make this good for him. She wanted this to be the best.

  Why? You want to be special to him?

  Of course she wanted to be special. She wanted him to have something good to take with him when he left, something to remember her by.

  His thrusts sped up, getting faster, but by that stage, she knew what she was doing. She gripped one of his thighs with her free hand, changing up the rhythm, using her tongue, nipping at him a little, letting him feel the edge of her teeth, which he seemed to like because he growled low and deep in his throat when she did it.

  She’d never thought she’d like doing this to a man, but Silas made everything different. He made everything exciting and new, and she loved that. She loved how she was able to drive him absolutely insane, making his fingers twist almost painfully tight in her hair, the rough sounds he made driving her own need higher.

  And then things began to get faster, rougher, as he took control, and she loved that too. Especially when he groaned her name yet again, his body stiffening as he came. She swallowed him down, taking everything he had to give, and then afterward, she leaned against his denim-covered thighs, resting her head on his hard stomach.

  She felt shaky and desperate all of a sudden, but also weirdly satisfied and pleased with herself.

  His hands had loosened in her hair, stroking her, massaging her scalp gently, and it felt so good she wanted to purr like a cat.

  “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said in a deep, gravelly voice. “Absolutely fucking incredible.”

  She smiled and raised her head, looking up into the gleaming gold of his eyes. “I know there’s beer goggles, but I feel like there’s orgasm goggles happening here.”

  The expression on his face was as intense as it usually was, but then it relaxed and he smiled, and she found her heart clenching tight in her chest. There had always been a reason she’d hoarded the smiles he gave her. They were beautiful. And so was he.

  “Orgasm goggles, huh?” His hands urged her to her feet. “Maybe you should try a pair on for size then.”

  “If you’re the one giving them out, then definitely.” She put her hands on his chest, looking up at him. “You should smile like that more often, you know.”

  As she’d hoped, the curve of his mouth deepened. “I’ll keep that in mind. But note that it only happens when you’re around.”

  “Lies. I’ve seen you smile at other people.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t mean it with them.” He lifted one hand and hooked a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingertips brushing over her skin in a light caress, making her shiver. “I mean it when I smile at you.”

  The tightness in her chest increased, a bittersweet pain, and a wave of heat passed through her cheeks. “Si…”

  His fingers cradled her head as he leaned down, kissing her. “No more of that,” he murmured against her mouth. “I have a favor to return.”

  And thank God, because she didn’t know what to say or how to deal with that pain inside her. A sweet ache that made her uncomfortable at the same time as it made her want more.

  She hadn’t had many people in her life tell her that she was valuable or even that her presence was welcome. Her grandfather hadn’t been a demonstrative man, and her mother didn’t have any emotional energy left for her. So the simple fact that she made Silas smile…

  It meant a lot.

  It shouldn’t.

  And she shouldn’t let it. But tell that to the feeling inside her that only ached more as Silas lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed, laying her on it. Then he followed her down onto the mattress, his long, powerful body pinning her in a way that made the ache shift lower.

  He settled himself between her thighs, kissing her long and slow, making her so aware of all the fabric that was still between them and how she wanted it gone. Right the hell now.

  But he took it slow again, much to her annoyance. Taking off her clothes in a measured way, kissing every inch of exposed skin as he did so, stroking her and caressing her until she was naked and shivering, desperate for him.

  Only then did he kiss his way down her body, his hands on her thighs, pressing them gently but insistently apart. Then he spread her with his fingers and bent his head, his tongue beginning to explore the hot, slick flesh between her legs.

  Hope groaned, her hips lifting as soon as his mouth touched her, electricity crackling along every nerve ending, pleasure twisting and knotting inside her.

  He explored her, taking his time, using his mouth and his tongue in the same way she had on him, driving her wild.

  Oh, he was wicked. But then maybe she’d always known that as well, another reason eighteen-year-old Hope had steered clear of him. Good thing the woman she was now absolutely loved it.

  She sank her fingers into his hair, holding on as he pushed her higher, stoking her pleasure until she was shaking and writhing beneath him, and only then did he push her over the edge, making her gasp his name as she shook and shook and shook.

  And it wasn’t until she was lying there trying to recover that he pushed himself off the bed, slowly stripping off all his clothes until he stood by the bed naked and glorious.

  She couldn’t stop looking at him, at the broad width of his chest and shoulders, the sharp corrugations of his abs. Lean hips and powerful thighs. Oh lord, would she ever get tired of looking at him? Probably not.

  “Now,” he said as he came back down onto the bed, settling himself over her and between her thighs, his hot, bare skin on hers a delicious shock. “Let’s try that again.”

  * * *

  He was totally indulging himself, and he knew it. But he didn’t care. Hope was naked and soft beneath him, and he was pretty much helpless to resist her. N
ot that he’d planned on resisting her, but when he’d come back to the Moose, he’d thought he might be able to hold out a couple of hours at least, take some time to think about what he’d found out from Mike about the leases, turning a few ideas of his own over in his head.

  But the moment he’d walked into the Moose, he’d headed straight for Hope’s office, his body already hard, unable to think about anything else but her. If his brain had been working properly, he might have asked her to bed a bit more nicely. But his brain hadn’t been working properly. So he’d said the first thing that had come into his head, which was to order her upstairs.

  Luckily she’d been into it, because if she hadn’t been, he didn’t know what he would have done. He certainly wouldn’t have had her kneeling in front him, his cock in her mouth, giving him the most insane pleasure he’d ever had.

  She lifted a hand and let her finger trail over his stomach as he dealt with the issue of protection, her dark eyes smoky with heat and pleasure. “You’re pretty amazing too, you know that?”

  He finished rolling down the condom, then positioned himself, looking down into her lovely face, unable to get enough of watching her as he pushed inside her, the moment when she became his and only his.

  “What were you saying about orgasm goggles?” he murmured, flexing his hips and pressing in, seeing pleasure flare in her eyes as he slid inside her.

  She inhaled sharply, her lashes fluttering. “I…can’t remember.”

  He smiled, his heartbeat speeding up as her body clenched hard around him. “No. Neither can I.”

  Her hands slid up his arms to his shoulders, her body arching, her hips lifting to take him deeper, and they both groaned as he settled more fully inside her.

  Oh God, she felt good, so incredibly sweet and hot. He could feel that fire burning inside her and it was all for him.

  He bent and pressed a kiss to her throat, tasting the pulse that beat there, not moving for a couple of moments, wanting to savor this. Just the feeling of being inside her, of her welcoming him, having her fire burn all around him.

  “Silas,” she whispered, her nails digging into his skin. “Please.”

  He nuzzled against her neck, grinning, the husky, desperate note in her voice making him feel very self-satisfied. “Please what?”

  She scratched at him. “Please move.”

  “Demanding.” He bit the side of her neck gently, teasing her. “You know I don’t like being told what to do.”

  “Don’t be an ass.” She arched beneath him, trying to urge him on, and the feel of her moving against him was so delicious that he thought he might let himself be urged. “Come on.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to.” He nipped at her bottom lip. “Maybe I want to lie here, driving you crazy.”

  “That would be mean, and you’re not mean, are you?” Then she gasped as he shifted slightly on her. “Okay, scratch that. You are mean.”

  He laughed, sliding his hands beneath her butt, tilting her slightly, settling himself more completely and making her tremble. She was soft and she felt so good that he’d decided he’d had enough of teasing her. He began to move, gripping the curves of her ass as he slid out and then back in, watching the glow in her eyes become hotter, the flush in her cheeks intensifying.

  Sexy Hope. Beautiful Hope.

  You’re such a goner for her.

  Yeah, he was. He always had been. But even so, he wasn’t going to make this into anything more than what it was: phenomenal sex with a woman he’d wanted nearly half his life.

  You want more than that.

  It wasn’t anything new. He’d always wanted more with her. He’d wanted everything. But that wasn’t something he’d ever allow himself. Because he’d always wanted more from people than what they could give. He’d wanted his father to go back to being the man he was before Si’s mother had died, and because he’d been young, he’d thought handing the old man a vodka bottle would help. And it had.

  His father had gone from never mentioning her name, never even looking in Si’s direction, to reminiscing at length about her, giving Si drunken hugs and talking about airplanes and going fishing the way he used to do.

  It was wrong to want his father to stay drunk. But that didn’t stop him from feeling glad every time he came home to find the vodka bottle open and his father singing one of his mother’s favorite songs in the kitchen.

  And if he didn’t exactly pour his father another drink, he didn’t get rid of the vodka down the drain. Or tell Mal not to sell it to Joshua anymore. Or even tell his father that perhaps he might not want to open the bottle tonight.

  He did none of those things. Because he’d wanted his father back. He’d needed him so badly that he’d let him become a drunken wreck of a man.

  He’d hated himself a little bit for that, and so he hadn’t wanted to put that kind of need on Hope. Didn’t want to be demanding stuff from her that she couldn’t give. He’d keep this intensity in the bedroom and let himself have it here, where it could be mistaken for sexual hunger rather than anything else.

  It was enough. It would have to be.

  He moved deeper inside her, faster, and her head went back on the pillows as he increased the pace, her breathing coming in short, hard pants, her legs locking around his waist.

  He bent his head, kissing her exposed neck, needing the taste of her in his mouth, because somehow it felt as if this wasn’t enough. He had to have more.

  You always have to have more. That’s the problem.

  Si shoved that thought away, gripping her hips as he thrust harder, her body so soft and hot he could barely handle it.

  Her hands slid down his back, fingernails scratching him lightly before digging into the curve of his butt and holding on. She was making those husky, sexy little noises that meant she was close to the edge, and he wanted to keep her there, wanted to make her ride that edge for as long as he could.

  But he was too desperate. All he could do was keep going, keep driving himself deep, the sweet musky scent of her and the tight clasp of her body making him slightly crazy. He slipped one hand between them, down between her thighs, stroking her, then giving her a little pinch.

  Her body convulsed, his name a hoarse scream in his ear as she came, and then he let himself go, thrusting into her as the pleasure coiled tight as a spring before exploding outward, a bright burst of lightning sizzling up his spine and out through his head. He turned his head against her neck, biting down on the sensitive spot between her shoulder and neck as the climax took him, and for whole minutes—hell, maybe even hours, who could tell?—he was lost. Blinded by pleasure and by her.

  It felt like a long time later that he opened his eyes to find her lying beneath him, looking up at him, her hands stroking slowly up and down his spine. Her skin was flushed and her eyes were glowing like dark stars, and he’d never seen anything as beautiful as she was in his entire life.

  “You okay?” he asked, because he’d let himself go a little there and he wanted to make sure he hadn’t hurt her. Though he had to admit she didn’t look hurt, just well-tumbled.

  “I am feeling…very good.” Her mouth, reddened from his kisses and full and pouty, curved. “Very good indeed.”

  “I aim to please.”

  “And you sure do.” She gave a sensual stretch, making parts of him that he’d thought well-sated start to be hungry for more. “You’re good at that, by the way. Lots of practice, I take it?”

  He couldn’t tell if she was fishing for information, passing judgment, or something else, but he did catch the faintest edge in her voice. Which pleased the Neanderthal in him very much. “Why do you want to know? You jealous?”

  She hit him lightly on the shoulder. “No. It was just a simple question.”

  It was more than that, he was betting; otherwise, why ask it in the first place? Then again, he didn’t mind. He liked the ide
a of her being jealous extremely. “A bit. You know, here and there.”

  “What? A man who doesn’t talk about his conquests?” Hope raised a dark eyebrow. “You’re a unicorn, Si.”

  “No, I don’t talk about them. And I prefer to think of myself as a gentleman.”

  “Yes, well, a gentleman doesn’t order his lover upstairs without even a please, so I beg to differ.”

  He had to smile at that. “Depends on the gentleman and whether or not his lover likes being ordered upstairs.” He brushed a lock of hair off her damp forehead. “You didn’t seem to mind it.”

  She flushed. “Maybe.”

  “So what about you?” Because what was good for the goose, etcetera. “Have you got in much practice?”

  Hope’s gaze dropped to his mouth. “You know, I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

  He would really like her to kiss him too. But she’d just ignored him completely and he wasn’t having that. “You can’t ask me that question and not expect me to ask you the same thing.”

  She lifted her gaze back to his. “You didn’t really answer me.”

  “No,” he said bluntly, because he wanted her to know. “There’s been no one else. I’ve had lovers, but no one serious.”

  “Oh.” She blinked and glanced away. “Well…I haven’t either. No one serious, I mean.”

  “Lovers?” She would have had some, surely? She was beautiful, and he couldn’t imagine there wouldn’t have been lots of men interested in her.

  Hope sighed. “I don’t really want to tell you.”

  “Why not?” He stroked her hair, loving the silky feel of it against his palm. “Have there been lots? Fifty? A hundred?” He wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to know, because it didn’t matter.

  You don’t want it to be fifty or a hundred.

  Hell no. He already felt jealous of whoever it was she gave her virginity to, because she hadn’t been a virgin. Some guy who didn’t deserve it, that was for sure.

  “Not fifty. Or a hundred.” She let out a breath. “One. Lame, I know. But only one. A guy from the trawlers who was in town for a couple of weeks. He was interested and I thought ‘why not?’”