by P. J. Mellor
Were those voices she heard in the distance?
Bang, bang, bang!
She shrieked and dropped her flashlight.
“Hey, Blondie! Did you fall in?” Ben’s strident voice set her teeth on edge as she crawled to retrieve her light.
“No! Don’t you dare open that door! I’ll be right out.”
She bit back a smile a few minutes later when she noticed he beat tracks to get into the outhouse. So much for his macho talk about using trees. Although she’d love to run back inside, she pulled the quilt closer and waited. It was only fair, since he’d waited for her.
A little blooming bush by the corner caught her attention. Closer inspection failed to reveal the identity of the flower. No surprise. She’d never been big on horticulture. Still, it was pretty and smelled nice. Sort of like honeysuckle.
Casting the beam ahead, she made her way around the outhouse, checking for other flowers. Maybe she could pick some and put them in a vase. Surely, a hotel would have vases. If not, she knew the cabinets were well stocked with glassware. She could always use a glass …
The spot of orange she’d seen from the upstairs window snagged her attention and she walked toward it.
The next second, her foot connected with nothing but air. Before she could scream, she was waist deep in a hole. Her ankle throbbed, and if she hadn’t cut her knee, she was sure it was pretty badly scraped.
Oh, ick. Mud closed in on her, oozing around her hips, slithering up her pants legs.
At least, she hoped it was mud slithering up her pants.
The outhouse door banged against the exterior wall. Ben rounded the corner, his flashlight beam bouncing crazily.
“Reese!” His voice boomed over the rain and rumbling thunder. The lightning immediately followed, making the area bright as day for a few seconds. “Damn!” He ran to where she was mired down in the wet, smelly mud. “Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” Dang, she sounded bitchy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just that I was already cold and wet and generally miserable, and then I fell in this stupid hole.”
He shone the beam around. “Wonder what the hole’s from?”
“How the heck would I know? I’m cold and muddy. And I need help getting out of here. Could we possibly continue this discussion inside, by the fire?”
“You’re not planning to track all this mud into the hotel, are you?” Even as he asked, he tugged her arm, slowly releasing her from the sucking mud.
“Wait! It ate my shoe!”
“Leave it. We’ll come back out when it gets light and find it.”
“But it will be all muddy—”
“It’s not going to get much muddier.”
“Oh. Good point. What about the quilt? I really hate to leave it out here in the elements.”
He picked it up and held it at arm’s length while it dripped mud as they walked. “I’ll hang it on the rail on the back porch. Now what are you doing?”
Jaw clamped to keep her teeth from chattering, she turned her face toward the torrential rain. “Trying to get most of the mud off before I go in.”
No doubt, Reese Parker would be the death of him. He watched rain sluice over her, slicking the clothing to her like brightly colored shrink-wrap. He felt his own clothing begin to tighten in certain areas.
What was she thinking? Was she deliberately teasing him? A man could only take so much in one day.
Of course, what he’d really like to do would be to strip them both, and rub up and down on each other in the rain until they were both clean. And so primed they were ready to fuck in the mud.
Undoubtedly, Ms. Parker would not share or appreciate his idea.
“Quit fooling around and get inside.” Damn, that sounded harsh. “Reese, I don’t think you really want to be standing out in this storm like that.” When she looked at him, he added, “You’re making the perfect lightning rod.”
By the way her eyes widened, he knew the second his words sank in.
Slipping and sliding, she scrambled to the back porch.
“I didn’t even think about that!” Eyes wide, she stared up at him, her teeth lightly chattering.
“Let’s get you inside so you can warm up.” He was pleased he sounded sincere and concerned. It was really a miracle … considering he only had eyes for her nipples as they made intriguing little tents in her wet knit shirt.
21
Oh-oh-oh!” Paige gripped the bedspread, holding on. Brett had her bent over the footboard of the iron bed in her room at the Sand Dollar Inn and was currently pounding into her from behind. Her breasts jiggled, tickling her ribs. Brett’s sack slapped her engorged clitoris with each powerful thrust.
She wiggled back as much as possible, wanting more, on sensory overload.
When Brett proved ready for round two, almost as soon as they caught their breath from easily the most orgasmic sex she’d experienced to date, she’d briefly wondered if he’d somehow gotten hold of Viagra. But something told her the stud servicing her so enthusiastically and creatively was all natural. No doubt about it, country boys knew things. Things no one in her vast experience had seemed to know.
Reese crossed Paige’s mind, and she wondered if her friend was experiencing multi-orgasms too.
Then Brett’s talented fingers reached around to find her nub and tugged on it, and she forgot about everything but the here and now.
“If you want to finish rinsing off and maybe rinse your clothes, I can pump a couple of buckets of water for you,” Ben offered, slamming the back door against the elements. When she looked back at him in obvious surprise, he shrugged. “The bathtub drains still work. I figure you can pour the water down the drain when you’re done.”
She nodded. “Thanks. That would be great. Does it matter which bathroom I use?”
“The room you used earlier,” he said, biting back a grin when she averted her eyes, “has the biggest bathroom. There should be plenty of towels in the cabinet next to the tub.”
On the third stair up, she turned, making her peaked nipple right at his eye level. “How do you know that?”
Shit. How did he know that? Probably because that’s where his grandmother had always kept towels. But he couldn’t tell her. “Ah, I looked around before.” He winked and smiled. “While you were otherwise occupied.”
She reacted exactly as he’d expected. “Bring the water up there, then.”
He watched her flounce up the stairs, intrigued by the slight jiggle, as well as the way the printed fabric lovingly hugged the globes of her sweet ass.
“Yes, ma’am.” When she’d disappeared, he made his way down the hall to the back porch. “Cool down, buddy, or you’ll be able to carry one of those pails without using your hand.”
As soon as Reese heard Ben enter the back porch, she scurried back down the stairs to grab a candle. When she’d made her grand exit, she’d forgotten all about the lack of electricity.
The storm was louder upstairs. Despite heat rising, it was noticeably cooler, as well.
She picked up the pace. In the bathroom, she set the candle on the little chest by the window. Just as Ben had said, there were about six towels neatly folded in the tall cabinet at the end of the tub. She extracted a fluffy white one, then paused.
Now what? She couldn’t very well strip and wait for Ben to bring the water. Sure, he’d already seen her totally naked, thanks to her earlier uncharacteristically stupid impulse.
The very thought of what Ben saw brought a heated blush to her neck and cheeks.
Wait. It was a hotel. A fairly nice hotel. It wouldn’t have been unusual for it to have robes for its guests.
A fairly thorough search of the room yielded nothing. The few ladies’ garments she’d found in the drawers looked like they’d belonged to an old lady. Not only were they not Reese’s style, there was something … personal about them that was off-putting. Who would have stayed at a hotel and left intimate items of clothing?
A knock on t
he bedroom door interrupted her musings.
Before she could open the door, it opened and Ben walked in, carrying two sloshing buckets of water. He strode past her and set them on the tile of the bathroom with a clunk.
He was clean and his hair was standing in wet spikes. Obviously, he’d taken a few minutes to bathe.
Rotating his broad shoulders, he looked at her. “You don’t realize how heavy water is until you try carrying two bucketfuls up a flight of stairs.”
He pulled the floral shower curtain around the claw-foot tub. “Go ahead. Get in.”
“Excuse me? I don’t need you to bathe me, thank you very much.” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s your cue to leave.”
“Oh, get over yourself, lady.” Narrowing his eyes, he glared right back. “I planned to pour the water over the shower curtain for you, but if you’d rather do it yourself, be my guest.” Turning on his heel, he started for the door.
“Wait!” She stopped him with her hand on his arm, ignoring his body heat. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood. Please. Stay. I’d appreciate it if you’d pour the water.” She stepped into the tub and drew the curtain, then peered out. “You won’t peek, will you?”
“Believe it or not, not everybody is hot to jump your bones. Besides not being my type, you’re too skinny for my taste. Relax. You’re safe.”
Nodding, she shut the curtain again.
Even though he could hear the storm continuing to rage, the wind roaring, the rain pelting the windows, he could have sworn he also heard the unmistakable sound of Reese Parker taking off her clothes.
Damn, he really didn’t want to hear that.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said from behind the curtain.
Pulling the little chair his grandmother had called her slipper chair to the side of the tub, he climbed up with the first bucket of water.
Her little gasp when the cold water hit gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction. He stepped down to get the second bucket.
At that moment, lightning stuck, illuminating the room. Through the thin shower curtain, he had a perfect view of Reese’s silhouette. Her naked silhouette.
His cock sprang to full attention.
Before he drew his next breath, he’d stripped and was reaching for the curtain edge, the bucket in his other hand.
He figured he could always use the galvanized bucket to ward off her attack, should she take offense.
“Faint heart ne’er won fair maiden….”
His grandmother’s words ran through his mind.
That may be the case, Gram, he told her silently, but this particular fair maiden may beat me until my heart actually stops.
22
Reese jumped when cool air, even cooler than the air in the enclosure, swirled around her wet torso.
Another flash of lightning illuminated the Greek god climbing into the old tub with her.
Her mouth went dry while other parts of her anatomy grew moist.
Did she want to turn him away? Despite their differences, he was sweet and kind and funny. Not to mention smoking hot. It had been a long, dry spell, sexually, for her. But she knew she should probably pass on whatever he was offering.
She just wasn’t sure if she had the willpower.
Ben actually looked stunned as he visually swept her body, as though he didn’t know what to do next or where to focus his eyes.
“Ah, I’m, I mean …” He swallowed. “Need any help?”
Well, that was a unique opening line.
“I thought that’s what you were doing, Ben, by pouring water for me.” She narrowed her eyes. “From the other side of the shower curtain. What made you change your mind?”
As much as she tried to force her gaze upward, she just couldn’t help it. Her eyes had a will of their own. And they were intently cataloging Ben’s … assets.
Suddenly big hands blocked her view.
“I’m sorry,” he said, backing to the edge of the tub. “I didn’t mean to—well, okay, I did mean to, but I won’t.”
“Ben, you’re babbling.” Regardless of his discomfort, she refused to cover her nudity. He was the one who had barged in on her shower—he deserved to be embarrassed. It also gave her a small thrill of pleasure to note his body had a definite positive reaction to hers.
“Yeah, I know.” He glared at her as he lifted his foot to step out of the tub. “I—shit!”
One second he was starting to step over the lip of the tub, the next instant his big bare feet were in the air. His hands left their modesty protection and his arms flailed.
“Ben!” She grabbed for his arm, his leg, anything, to stop the progress of his fall.
Somehow they became tangled in the floral shower curtain, ripping it from its hooks to land in a heap of wet skin, tangled limbs, and exerted breathing.
“Ow.”
“What do you mean, ow? You fell on top of me! You may have broken my tooth with your hard head.” Ben shifted and she had to quickly grab hold of his warm chest to keep from falling to the tile.
“Shit-fire-spit, woman! Let go of my chest hair!”
Shifting again, she felt his entire body stiffen.
“Your knee,” he gasped, “move your knee. Easy!” He sucked in air through his teeth, which, now that she looked at them, looked perfectly fine.
Easing off the intriguing warmth of his body, she pulled on the shower curtain until she could wrap it around her nudity.
Spread-eagle on the floor, Ben’s chest rose and fell with his labored breathing while his hands massaged his wounded … masculinity.
She really had to bite her tongue to keep from offering to take over that particular duty.
For some reason, she got the impression Ben was probably not in the mood anymore.
“Let’s forget about all this and just try to get some sleep, okay?” Suddenly tired, she tugged at the sagging shower curtain, kicking it out from under her feet as she walked out of the bathroom. “Does it matter which bedroom I use?”
Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of Ben getting to his feet and moving around in the bathroom.
She waited until she’d heard the echo of his zipper before turning to face him.
The look of obvious sexual hunger on his face was almost her undoing. She could so identify with what he was feeling.
If she were Paige, she’d already be horizontal with her hunky guide. But Paige had always been way more adventurous than either Reese or Bailey. Unfortunately.
“None.” Ben’s gruff reply stymied her.
Before she could question him, he said, “I don’t want to waste our firewood by keeping more than one fireplace going. We may need it if the storm stalls out for a while.”
“Stalls out?”
He nodded. “Yeah, you know, stalls, as in hangs over the island before it moves on. Storms have been known to do that.” He closed his hand around her wrist and tugged her past the dustcover-clad bed toward the door to the hallway. “We better stick to my original plan of sleeping in front of the fire in the lobby. It’ll be warmer and conserve wood.” He paused again at the door and looked down at her, his expression clear of any remaining lust. In fact, she had no idea what he was thinking. If anything.
“I don’t suppose you brought any clothes in your magic bag?”
Straightening, she tugged her arm from his grasp. “Actually, I did. I have some clean underwear—”
“Great. Me too. Let’s go put it on and try to get some sleep.”
After a second of standing with her mouth hanging open, she trotted to catch up with him as he headed for the stairs.
“Wait just a minute! Are you telling me you expect us to sleep together in just our underwear?” True, most underwear covered more than the average bathing suit. Why—oh, why—had she allowed Paige to talk her into buying those stupid thong panties?
“Our clothes are wet and still kind of muddy,” he shot back over his shoulder as he made his descent. “There’s no point in getting the quilts and blankets all
messed up. Especially since we have no way of cleaning them and don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here.”
“Oh. Good point.” Dang, she hated when that happened.
Standing by the warmth of the fire, she watched Ben rummage in his big bag, waiting until he’d left the room to get her clean undies out of her own tote. Casting a nervous eye toward the closed door of the hall, she quickly changed and scooted under the warm covers.
Ben gently banged his head against the door frame. In spite of standing in the darkened hall, with no heat, in nothing but his boxer briefs, he felt on fire. And he wasn’t sure there was a damned thing he could do about it.
He peeked through the crack in time to see the shapely creamy white ass of his meal ticket as she bent to step into her panties.
He squinted his eyes, trying to determine if she was smooth all over.
The leopard-print thong had his cock springing with renewed interest.
For a few seconds, he admired the slight jiggle of her buttocks.
“Well, shit,” he whispered. The industrial-strength sports bra she’d pulled on negated the sexiness of the panties. Who dressed like that? Why couldn’t she have a sexy bra that matched the thong?
Reaching down, he squeezed his erection. Hard. Grabbing a towel from the butler’s pantry, he wrapped it around his waist and made his way into the lobby.
Thankful when she turned her back to him, he dropped the towel and slid beneath the covers, not stopping until he felt her body heat.
The smooth skin of her butt grazed him, causing him to jerk back.
She looked back at him, over her shoulder. “Is it okay that I hung my clothes on the edge of the hearth to dry? You don’t think it’s too close to the fire, do you? Or do you think I should move them? I—”
“Hush.” He put his hand over her mouth. “I haven’t had time to answer your first question. Can you be quiet for a minute and let me answer?”