Under A Painted Moon

by Rayne Forrest

  "You're going to turn all quiet on me now, aren't you?"

  He shook his head. “I wouldn't dare.” He kissed her forehead. “What do you want to talk about, Court?” He chuckled. “Are you going to fish for compliments?"

  He'd give her all the compliments she wanted. His groin tightened. Maybe he should start with her incredible technique for going down on a guy.

  Maybe not. Women were funny about doing that for a guy.

  "You smartass.” Her voice lacked anger or censure. “Do you want compliments?"

  "Sure. I'm a guy. Remember my fragile male ego and all that bullshit."

  She patted his stomach. “Okay. Let me think up something to compliment you on.” She tugged gently on his chest hair. “You're hung like a horse, you know."

  Barry choked on his own spit. Damn. She always surprised him.

  Not that he didn't know Mother Nature had been kind to him, he just never expected her to comment on it. The little corner of his mind that harbored angry jealousy over Waynie-boy whispered at him to ask about the ex-husband's endowment. He told it to shut up.

  "Good genetics,” he wheezed, then coughed some more. “Thank my parents, not me."

  "That would be rich. I'm sure that's something every son's mother wants to know."

  "Okay, okay. Glad you like it. Play with it any time you're in the mood to."

  Her hand drifted down to cover him. He started to swell again. She laughed softly, moving her hand.

  "Tease me all you like, babe. There will be a payback on it."

  She laughed again. “You told me that already and if making love with you is the payback, I'm ready to pay my bill."

  "Just hold that thought for a wee bit longer.” He stretched and his spine gave off little popping noises. He shifted to kiss her, deepening the kiss past playfulness, stopping it short of passion. He opened his eyes to find her looking at him. The disquiet he saw there surprised him.

  "What is it, babe?” He smoothed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. It was something he'd seen her do a thousand times. He cupped her cheek, surprised at the tears welling up in her eyes.

  "It's nothing, really. I feel like such a fool.” She buried her face in his neck again. It was the action of a woman seeking shelter and he knew it. He held her a little tighter.

  "You're not a fool, Courtney. You've never been one."

  "I married Wayne. God! Sometimes I just don't know what to do to get past it!"

  "Divorce is a good step. You did that.” He rested his cheek on the top of her head. He saw his hope of having her again sliding away. Pushing at her—about anything—never worked very well.

  "What is it all those daytime television hosts talk about? Closure?"

  She snorted. “Right. Now you're going to tell me you watch that stuff."

  "I'm an afternoon couch potato when the mercury hits ninety degrees or dips below twenty. Some of that is almost educational about women."

  "So you think I don't have closure on Wayne?"

  He didn't think it, he knew it. He also knew telling her that would just make her angry. It would be best if he avoided that for tonight. This was a conversation better held in the middle of day when they could toss darts at each other without doing any damage.

  "I think Wayne hurt you. There's no time limit on healing for that kind of hurt. It takes as long as it will, babe. I think you'll wake up one morning and it will be gone. Maybe even tomorrow."

  She clutched him tightly, nodding. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Thank all the stars he'd managed to say something right. He truly hoped she would wake up and be able to let go of some of what her ex-husband had done to her. Maybe even all of it. Maybe tonight would do that for her.

  If it did, he'd even forget she'd dragged Waynie the Wanker into bed with them.

  Not that he blamed her for her doubts. He blamed Waynie-boy.

  "You're not ‘the rebound',” she said quietly.

  "I know. What was his name? Jim? Dim? Zim?"

  She pushed her shoulder at him, clicking her tongue in mock annoyance.

  "Tim. And I can't believe you even know about that. You were in Europe.” She tugged on his chest hair. “Tyler blabbed, of course."

  "What are friends for? Should I confess we had a little laugh over it?” It had been more than a laugh. He and Tyler had spent hours trying to figure out a way to discourage Courtney. In the end, she'd allowed the relationship to drift before things got too serious, much to Barry's relief. He'd known Courtney needed to be on her own for a while.

  "No. And I never slept with him."

  Thank you, God. Barry held her closer, trailing his fingertips along the outside swell of her breast. Her body reacted to his touch, her nipple growing taut under his thumb.

  "You're sleeping with me.” He sounded smug, even to his own ears. But then, he felt a wee bit smug. And a wee bit hard.

  "McWaters."

  He laughed softly at the exasperation in her voice then kissed the tip of her nose. His groin was sending urgent messages to his brain that he'd given her enough of a rest. He slid down on the pillows, coaxing her to stretch out on top of him.

  "You can have your way with me now, Ms. Nichols. I'll do whatever you want me to."

  "Ah, hope springs eternal.” She straddled his ribcage and smiled down at him.

  "No, babe, it's not hope that's springing.” He flexed his hips. She chuckled softly and eased her weight down on his stomach.

  "Courtney, you missed it."

  Her smile broadened. “I wasn't aiming for it. I do know where it is, you know.” She reached behind her and gave his erection a gentle pat. He grinned up at her.

  He enjoyed playfulness in bed and had known on some instinctive level that she did, too. For him, making love was more than bodies touching. He'd had a lot of sex, but not much lovemaking.

  He held his hand up, fingers spread wide. She placed her hands in his and linked their fingers. He drew her forward, raising his lips to hers.

  She kissed him leisurely, drawing it out until he grew impatient. The urge to have her on her back swept over him, too strong to fight. He locked his arms around her and rolled her beneath him. She arched up to him, raising her legs around his hips with a needful cry. Scorching heat coursed through his veins and settled in his throbbing groin. She nipped his shoulder, hard enough to hurt.

  "Barry!” She writhed beneath him. He was achingly hard, sliding across her wet flesh in a slow tease. Reason fled. The need to be skin-to-skin with her sank greedy talons into his belly. Against all his better intentions, he plunged into her.

  She bucked against him, sliding her legs up around his ribs, gripping him firmly. He thrust into her, his mind hazed to everything but the soft heat enveloping him. Her hips rose to meet him.

  His mouth found hers and he delved into her. She gave him no quarter, her tongue warring with his even as her body yielded him the battle. His skin prickled all over as sweat broke out on his back.

  She moaned into his mouth each time he thrust into her, the sound sending jolts of sizzling electricity to his groin. His testicles drew tight to his body. Her body rained down its pleasure to him, dewing his thighs. Her nails dug into his back. He rose up and slammed into her.

  This was no gentle sharing. This was a claiming. She was his. He'd waited long enough to tell her, unmistakably, that she belonged to him.

  He set a driving rhythm, almost withdrawing from her before driving, full length, back into her. She met him thrust for thrust, eagerly accepting his onslaught.

  Her inner flesh gripped his, rippling along his length convulsively. He tried to inhale, to draw air into his oxygen-deprived lungs, but couldn't. Her nails dug mercilessly into his biceps. Her body bowed.

  "Barry! I'm coming!"

  His body already knew, had already answered hers. He shifted forward, pounding into her. A long, low moan flowed out of her, the sound of feminine completion. He tensed, trying to hold back his own orgasm for just a few strokes. He tried to ga
ther his wits and pull out of her. It was no use.

  He was coming and nothing mattered but the feel of her inner flesh greedily clutching his.

  The climax claimed him, shuddering through him, dancing along his nerves with primitive abandon. He emptied himself into her.

  He held himself tightly to her as the pulses faded. Whether they were his or hers he didn't know. Or care.

  She was all he'd wanted for so long. He knew it was in him to do whatever was necessary to cement their relationship.

  But he'd never even considered this.

  This was folly. This was unconscionable.

  Maybe the fact that he didn't ejaculate as much the second time would work in their favor. He devoutly hoped it would be so, even though he knew in the end it didn't matter at all.

  Her legs dropped limply from around his waist. He slowly eased his weight down onto his elbows, his eyes never leaving her face.

  He smoothed damp hairs off her cheek. She turned her head to kiss his palm, never opening her eyes. His chest hurt, the full weight of his stupidity and carelessness gripping him.

  "Look at me, Court.” His voice was a whisper.

  Her lower lip trembled. Her lashes swept up. Her gaze met his, full of awareness of what they'd just done.

  Parenthood beckoned.

  Chapter 14

  "Say something. Yell at me. Whatever it takes."

  What could she say? She was old enough to know better. She wasn't some inexperienced young girl unaware of the urgency of the moment when all that mattered was easing the ache inside. There wasn't anything to say.

  Well, maybe one thing.

  "Shit, Barry."

  His eyebrows shot up. She giggled at his surprised expression, bending her knees to keep him from sliding away from her.

  "I'm sorry, Courtney. You know I'm here. I'll always be here."

  "I know. Let's not panic just yet."

  "How soon should we panic?"

  "Five or six days, give or take."

  "Give or take what?"

  It was too good an opportunity to pass up. He looked so solemn, so serious. So worried.

  She was worried, too, maybe more so. But even in that she had an advantage he did not. She knew her body and its rhythms.

  Whatever happened, what was done, was done.

  "Give or take a bull's-eye."

  "That is not funny.” His head dropped onto her shoulder. His breath tickled her neck. She wiggled her hips. She loved the feel of his weight on her but he was starting to get heavy. She turned her head, seeking his lips to tell him with a kiss she didn't blame him.

  He returned her kiss with something that tasted like relief. She opened her mouth to him, flicking her tongue across his lower lip. He held her tighter. Her eyes burned behind closed lids.

  She knew him, too. If it turned out that way, he'd make a great father. It was the husband part she was unsure about.

  She'd had one of those and didn't know if she wanted another.

  This is a fine way to deepen a relationship. How could you be so stupid?

  She stroked down his damp back. “You, um, want to move now?"

  He shook his head, but slowly rolled up to kneel between her spread thighs. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across his torso. She let her gaze slowly move over him. He was simply gorgeous. She wondered again when the transformation from skinny, gangly youth to tall, well-proportioned man had taken place. Her eyes moved over him, following the line of dark hair that ran from his chest all the way down his body to spread over his strong thighs. She took in his still turgid maleness then smiled at him.

  He ran his hands up the inside of her legs and gently thumbed across her wet mound. She smiled up at him. He smiled back.

  "What?"

  "You look like some conquering hero come to plunder."

  "Rape and pillage? Not exactly my style, but if you'd get a kick out of it, I'll go get a Viking hat complete with horns.” His voice, husky and low, was a warm caress, soothing away her concerns.

  She laughed and reached for him. He settled beside her, grunting as they arranged themselves in a comfortable tangle of arms and legs amid the pillows. She wondered what he thought of having six big bed pillows now.

  She knew what this night meant to him. Barry was a romantic at heart. And with the clarity of hindsight, she looked back across the years and saw him in a different light. Now she worried a few moments of carelessness had cast a pall over their lovemaking for him. She wasn't quite sure that telling him a baby wouldn't be the end of her world would help him.

  She grinned up him.

  "I know you just got comfortable, but don't you think it's getting stuffy in here?"

  He groaned and sat up. “Which window has the best screen?"

  "They're all in good shape.” She rolled over and watched him open the windows on each end of the room. A light breeze drifted over her.

  He must have felt it, too. He eased the window back down leaving only a small crack at the bottom. She watched the graceful lines of his body as he bent and blew out the remaining candles. With only the moonlight to illuminate the nooks and angles of the room, Barry changed from a warm, glowing Viking to a silvery wolf, padding back to the bed on silent paws. He slipped under the sheet and reached for her again.

  "What's so amusing, ba...” He stopped before he said the word.

  "Nothing. Was I smiling?” She burrowed back in at his side. It felt so right to be in his arms. For once, she was sorry she was correct in her speculations. He was upset. Damn.

  "You may have been leering, but I won't mention that."

  "You may be right,” she teased. Her hand drifted down his belly. Her little finger brushed his maleness. He didn't stir.

  "What's on the agenda for tomorrow?” she asked quietly.

  "Finding a new place to work."

  "What?” Shock coursed through her. She rose up on her elbow and stared at him. “What are talking about?"

  "The city has been buying up the properties on my block. My landlord stopped by to let me know the building my studio is in is next on the city's list. He's made a deal with the city council and I have sixty days to find new digs.” He hugged her. “I'll check the paper in the morning and see if anything looks good to me."

  "That's a shame, Barry. You really liked that place, didn't you?"

  "Yeah. It was close to home and I could do whatever I wanted inside. Mac didn't care. He's got a warehouse he'd convert some space in for me, but it's just too far out of town. It's time I bought a place, anyway."

  Courtney's heart plunged. She hadn't realized until she heard him say the words that she'd been assuming—hoping—he'd eventually move in with her. She'd have to take a closer look at those feelings.

  In the clear light of day.

  She couldn't suggest he move in, not now. Not when he might think she'd set out to trap him. She buried her face in his neck.

  They'd never get past this one stupid act. She knew he'd always wonder now if she had some private agenda with him. Her chest tightened painfully. Her eyes burned.

  His arms tightened around her.

  "I'm here, Court. I'm not going anywhere, no matter what."

  She didn't trust her voice not to break. She nodded then willed herself to go limp and to sleep.

  Barry listened to her breathing level and deepen as she dropped into sleep. He envied her. Sleep would likely elude him this night. He closed his eyes and focused his awareness to the feel of her curled at his side, the sound of her breathing. The crisp, clean smell of the linens didn't mask the scent of sex, the scent of them together.

  He committed it all to memory, a talisman against the lonely nights ahead. Long, dark nights his own stupidity had won him.

  Not that he was going to go down without a fight. He'd not been this patient for this long only to let the first speed bump stop him. Not this time.

  Patience had cost him Waynie-boy. He'd been young and dumb when Waynie-boy had come onto the scene. He and T
yler both had missed the signs that Courtney was taken in by him. Then it was too late. Courtney had married Wayne Collins and so many years passed.

  Patience be damned. Maybe he should get her pregnant. Of course, that would make him a father and not necessarily a husband. And husband was where he planned to end up. Her husband.

  But before that happened, she'd likely want to back off from him.

  Five or six days, she said. He set himself not to drive her crazy over it but he knew he probably would. He smiled at the ceiling.

  He knew the look she'd give him. She'd been giving him That Look for years. Only now he hoped there'd be something more in it. Now he hoped the mix of disbelief, annoyance and exasperation would have a little fondness thrown in.

  She stirred at his side, stretching and rolling away from him. He settled on his side, wrapping himself around her, giving her shelter while she slept. Maybe she knew.

  She pressed her bottom tightly against his hips and sighed. He washed warm at the sound of it, brushing his lips to her bare shoulder. He had to get her to make that contented sound when she was awake.

  Slowly, bit by bit, he relaxed and grew drowsy. He draped his arm over her and cupped her breast, letting sleep, and his dreams, take him.

  * * * *

  "Barry."

  The whisper drifted to him. He tried to ignore it.

  "Barry."

  The whisper was accompanied by a jab in the ribs, harder to ignore.

  "Barry."

  A cold hand wrapped itself around his manhood. Impossible to ignore. He decided he'd better acknowledge that he'd heard her before things escalated. He had to get her hands warm before she reached for his testicles.

  "Courtney."

  The fingers tightened around his morning erection. Not such a good thing at this particular moment.

  "Who's Courtney?"

  He opened one eye and glared at her. She grinned at him.

  It was barely daybreak. The sun had not yet risen above the mountains. But who needed the sun when Courtney was smiling at him?

  The universe was apparently granting him wishes this morning. Now if he could just get one more little indulgence from the heavens before he pounced on her.