Thorn's Challenge

by Brenda Jackson

  Tara kissed him back, until she heard her father clear his throat several times. She and Thorn finally broke apart and she turned and smiled at her parents, then said, “Mom, Dad, this is Thorn, the man I love.”

  * * *

  Two days later, in a hotel room in West Palm Beach, Tara lay in Thorn’s arms. She could hear the sound of the ocean, the relaxing resonance of waves hitting against sand. She closed her eyes as she remembered the intensity of the lovemaking she and Thorn had shared earlier. He hadn’t been slow and gentle. This time he had been tender, yet he had taken her with a force that had overwhelmed her, pleasuring them both, riding her with the precision and expertise that was strictly his trademark, and thrusting deep then pulling out, repeating the process over and over again until he had her thrashing about as sensation after sensation tore into her.

  He had whispered into her ear words of love, words of sex, promises to be delivered both in and out of the bedroom, and when they had reached a climax simultaneously, she knew that, physically as well as emotionally, she was a part of him and would always be a part of him.

  “Tara?”

  She glanced up. He was awake and was watching her. “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  She smiled. He had told her that over a million times since bringing her back here from her parents’ home. “And I love you.”

  They had decided to marry over the Memorial Day weekend. Thorn had been open with displaying his affections for her in front of everyone, and it seemed the entire town had been there.

  Her parents’ bowling game had been cancelled, and some of the neighbors had set up grills and a huge barbecue followed, with all the steaks and spareribs a person could eat donated by Grahams’ Supermarket in honor of their hometown girl marrying a celebrity.

  Tara had been standing talking to Thorn when she’d turned and seen Danielle walking toward her. At that moment any bitterness she had felt for the woman who’d once been her best friend left her. She knew there was no way things could ever be the same between them, but Tara no longer felt the deep anger just thinking about what Danielle and Derrick had done.

  She introduced Danielle to Thorn and told her the same thing she had told Derrick a few days earlier. She congratulated them on their upcoming child, wished them the best and told her that she hoped they would always be happy together.

  Not wanting to think about Danielle and Derrick any longer, she brought her thoughts back to the present and thought of something else. “Thorn?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “I heard Chase say that you have another race in August. Do you plan to go celibate after our wedding until the race?”

  Thorn met her gaze. “No, my celibate days are over. There’s no way I can have you around me constantly and not want to make love to you.”

  “Aren’t you worried about the impact that may have on winning the race?”

  “No. I always thought racing and building my bikes were the most important things in my life and at a time they were. But now things are different. You are the most important thing in my life, Tara. You are my life. It doesn’t matter to me if I never win another race because I have the ultimate prize, my greatest award, accolade and treasure right here in you.”

  “Oh, Thorn.” She leaned up and her mouth met his. She kissed him like a woman in love as emotions swirled through her. She and Thorn would spend the rest of their lives together and would make many beautiful babies together.

  Babies? They hadn’t discussed babies. She pulled back, breaking off the kiss.

  He lifted a brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you want babies?” she asked, looking at him intently.

  He smiled. “Yes, I want babies.”

  She returned his smile. “Good. How many?”

  He chuckled. “As many as you want to give me.” And deciding to go ahead and answer the next question he figured she’d be asking, he said, “And it doesn’t matter if they are girls or boys. I will love and cherish any child we have together.”

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers, then, deepening the kiss, became intent on giving her the greatest pleasure he could. His hands stroked her everywhere and he conveyed the heat of his hunger to her, needing to find solace in the warmth of her body again, knowing in his heart that he would always want her, need her and love her.

  He broke off the kiss to climb onto her body, he straddled her and then he entered her warmth, going deep, slow and easy, feeling the muscles of her inner body clutch him, hold him and welcome him. When he looked down at her, he saw love shining in her eyes. Love that he returned.

  Then, in one quick movement he began riding her, thrusting inside her, nearly pulling out and going back in again, holding her gaze as he did so, lifting her hips to receive him in this very soul-stirring way. He wanted her panting, groaning and screaming. He wanted to kiss her again until her mouth quaked, her body trembled, and every part of her brimmed over with passion—rich and explosive. He wanted to imprint this night in her mind forever.

  This lovemaking was more vigorous than any before and together they moved in unison as he lowered his head, seeking her mouth and going after her tongue. And like everything else he wanted, she gave it to him. He openly displayed his hunger for her—his hunger and his love.

  And then it happened. Rampant desire raced through him, caught fire and spread like a blaze to her. He continued pumping, thrusting as their bodies strained and flowed with a pounding rhythm toward a release that lingered a breath away. He felt her dig her fingers into his shoulders and broke off the kiss, threw his head back and sucked in a breath he felt could be his last at the exact moment her body clenched him for everything he had.

  This time their joining felt like a spiritual connection, the climax that tore into them stronger, deeper and richer than any before. Before either could recover, she climaxed again and he immediately followed her lead, moving faster, riding her the way he had always wanted to, the way he had always dreamed of, straight through the waves and soaring for the stars.

  “Thorn!”

  He found strength to look down into her face.

  His woman.

  He met her gaze and he knew. Their life together would always be filled with love and passion, and he couldn’t think of having it any other way.

  EPILOGUE

  Tara no longer hated weddings.

  She inhaled deeply as she looked around the church. Memories assailed her as she remembered the last time she had worn a wedding dress here, and now today, in front of some of those same three hundred guests, she had married the man she loved, Thorn Westmoreland.

  She, Thorn and the wedding party had hung back to take a multitude of pictures. Everyone else had left for the reception, which was to be held in the ballroom of a beautiful hotel on the beach.

  Thorn had left her briefly to go in the back to talk to the minister about something, and she happened to notice the Westmoreland brothers as well as the Westmoreland cousins, who’d all been part of the wedding party, standing around talking. As she watched, she saw three of the Westmoreland brothers, Chase, Stone and Storm, exchange money.

  She raised a brow wondering if they had made another wager about something. She smiled upon remembering how Stone, Chase and Storm had confessed to her the whole story, then had apologized for causing a rift between her and Thorn.

  Adjusting her veil she decided to find out just what kind of a bet the brothers had made and whether the bet had once again involved her and Thorn.

  * * *

  Chase had just explained the bet that he, Stone and Storm had made to his cousins: Jared, Quade, Spencer, Ian, Durango and Reggie Westmoreland. He was grinning broadly, since he had won. “Hey, five hundred dollars isn’t bad for a day’s work. I told all of you that Thorn wouldn’t be able to hold off on marrying Tara until June.”

  He looked at the money he’d just gotten from Stone and Storm. “And I appreciate you guys letting me take this off your hands. It wil
l come in handy for that state-of-the-art pressure cooker I want to buy for the restaurant.”

  The next thing he knew, the money was snatched out of his hand. “What the hell!”

  He spun around and came face to face with his new sister-in-law’s glare. He backed up a step. “Oh, hi, Tara,” he said innocently. “I thought you and Thorn were somewhere in the back talking to the minister.”

  Tara continued to glare and crossed her arms over her chest. “Thorn is the one who’s talking to the minister. And am I right in assuming the three of you made yet another bet?”

  Stone, Chase and Storm looked chagrined, but Stone came to their defense and said, “Yeah, but this bet was made before we promised we wouldn’t be betting on you and Thorn again, so it doesn’t count.”

  She nodded. “Well, this is a church and you shouldn’t be passing betting money around in here so I can only do one thing about it.”

  Chase raised a panicky brow. “What?”

  “Donate it to the church. My father is the Sunday school superintendent here and I’m sure this donation will be appreciated.” She then smiled sweetly before walking off.

  “Tara?”

  She turned around and met Chase’s brooding eyes. “Yes, Chase?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Only you can get away with doing something like that.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I know.” She turned back around and began walking.

  “Tara?”

  She turned around again and met Storm’s worried gaze. “Yes, Storm?”

  “You aren’t going to tell Thorn about the bet are you?”

  Tara smiled. “No, Storm, I won’t say a thing.”

  She turned back around and started to walk away.

  “Tara?”

  She slowly turned around for the third time, meeting Stone’s amused expression. “Yes, Stone?”

  His smile widened. “Welcome to the family.”

  Tara chuckled. The Westmoreland men were something else.

  “Thanks, Stone.”

  She then turned around and ran smack into Corey Westmoreland, Thorn’s uncle. A recently retired park ranger from Montana, he had made the trip back home three times in less than two years to attend his niece and his nephews’ weddings.

  Tara smiled. According to the Westmoreland brothers, their fifty-three-year-old uncle was a confirmed bachelor. That was too bad, Tara thought since he was such a good-looking man. What a waste. A part of her hoped there was a woman out there somewhere for Uncle Corey.

  “My nephews aren’t causing problems are they?” he asked, chuckling. Then he glanced across the room, sending his eleven nephews a scolding glare.

  “Nothing I can’t handle, but thanks for asking,” she grinned, thinking what a nice smile he had and how much his smile reminded her of Thorn’s.

  “Good, and if I haven’t told you already, I think you’re just the woman Thorn needs. I know the two of you will always be happy together. If you ever want to get away and see some beautiful country, tell Thorn to bring you to my ranch in Montana for a visit.”

  “Thanks for the invitation. I’ll make sure to do that.”

  At that moment Thorn and the minister came from the back. She immediately caught her husband’s gaze and smiled. “Excuse me, Uncle Corey,” she said, and began walking toward Thorn. When she reached him, he pulled her into his arms.

  “Ready?” he asked, placing a kiss on her lips.

  Tara knew that all the love she had for him was shining in her eyes. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  She would always be ready for him and made a silent promise to show him later tonight just how ready she was.

  * * * * *

  If you loved Brenda Jackson’s sexy tale

  of opposites attract, don’t miss

  THE CEO’S NANNY AFFAIR

  from Joss Wood!

  When billionaire Linc Ballantyne’s ex abandons not one, but two children, he strikes up a wary deal with her too-sexy sister. She’ll be the nanny and they’ll keep their hands to themselves. But their temporary truce soon becomes a temporary tryst!

  Read on for a sneak peek at

  THE CEO’S NANNY AFFAIR

  Tate Harper had eaten deep-fried crickets in Thailand and snacked on guinea pig in Peru. She’d been lost in a jungle in Costa Rica and danced the night away in a run-down cantina in a Rio favela. She’d been propositioned by both rich and poor men in every corner of the world. As the host of a travel program exploring different food cultures, she’d faced some unusual situations in her life.

  But nothing gave her the heavy-hearted feeling that a meeting with Kari did.

  Tate pushed her fist into her sternum and gripped the handle of the door to the diner. It was a wintry Wednesday afternoon in early January, and she’d touched down at JFK just after six that morning. After already having spent the morning with the executive producers of the travel channel she worked for, discussing her options for hosting a new travel series, she was mentally and physically exhausted. She simply didn’t have the energy to deal with her older-in-years-but-still-a-child cousin.

  Adopted sister. Whatever the hell Kari was.

  Not for the first, or hundredth time, Tate wished that she and Kari were closer, that they were each other’s best friends, but, despite she and Kari sharing the same house since she was eight, they’d never really clicked.

  That old familiar wave of resentment twisted Tate’s stomach into knots. She looked down the snow-dusted road and thought about walking away. She was tempted; her life was so much easier without Kari in it. She shook her head. She wasn’t tough enough to ignore Kari’s request to meet, and, while she knew she was risking being disappointed for the umpteenth time, a part of her still hoped that they could establish an emotional connection, be a family. Resigned, she pulled open the door to the diner and stepped into its warmth. She shrugged out of her coat, pulled the floppy burgundy felt hat from her head and looked around the diner for Kari. Because their mothers were identical twins, they looked more alike than most sisters did. They shared the same wavy light brown/dark blond hair and long, lean build, but the last time Tate had seen Kari she’d dyed her hair platinum and was the proud owner of a new, bigger pair of boobs she’d conned someone—probably a boyfriend—into paying for. They also had the same generous mouths and high cheekbones, but Kari had the twin’s bright blue eyes while Tate inherited her grandfather’s cognac-colored eyes and straight nose.

  Not seeing Kari, she caught the attention of a waitress rushing past. “Sorry, excuse me? I’m looking for someone who looks a lot like me. Her text said she was here, waiting for me, but I don’t see her.”

  The waitress nodded. “Yeah, she’s sitting at that empty booth. I think she went to the bathroom. Take a seat, she shouldn’t be long.”

  Tate thanked her and walked toward the empty booth, her attention caught by a beautiful biracial baby fast asleep in a stroller parked between the booth and the table next to her, where a couple sat. The baby, Tate decided, had hit the genetic jackpot by inheriting the best of her stunning African-American dad and Nordic mom’s genes.

  Sitting down, she nodded at the offer of coffee. Hell, yes, she wanted coffee. She wanted to wrap her freezing hands around a warm mug and gaze out the window, happy to be out of the bitter wind and snow-tinged rain. It had been years since she’d been in the city in the middle of winter, and she’d forgotten how miserable it could get.

  Next to her chairs scraped, and Tate turned to watch as the gorgeous man and his blond partner stood up, gathering their coats and shopping bags. From their intimate smiles and heated looks, Tate realized that they shared a deep connection. Electricity buzzed between them, and she wrinkled her nose as jealously pricked her soul.

  She’d never had a man look at her like she was the reason the earth spun on its axis, the pull of the moon on the tides, the strength of the sun.

  You’ve got to be in the game to play it, Harper, Tate quickly reminded herself. But you chose independe
nce, freedom and to live on your isolated island. The consequence of that choice was emotional safety.

  And, sadly, the sex life of a nun.

  But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t admire a masculine butt in well-fitting jeans. Because he had an A-grade ass, it took Tate a while to realize that they were leaving. Her eyes dropped to the baby still asleep in the stroller, and she shot to her feet. “Hey, wait!”

  The couple turned around and they both raised their eyebrows.

  Tate gestured to the stroller. “Your baby. You’re leaving without her.”

  They responded with frowns and matching is-she-crazy expressions. “That’s not our baby. The lady who was sitting there came in with that baby,” Sexy Guy told her.

  Wait! What?

  Tate caught the eye of the waitress as ice flooded her veins. “Who came in with this baby?”

  Tate was subjected to another “she’s-a-nut” look. “The woman you asked about, the one who looks like you, she came in with this cutie.”

  Oh God, oh God, oh God. Tate fought for air and managed to compose herself long enough to ask the waitress if she’d, please, check the bathroom to see whether Kari was in a stall. Tate’s eyes bounced between the sleeping baby and the small hallway leading to the restrooms, and when the waitress reappeared, biting her lip and shaking her head, Tate started to tremble.

  Déjà vu, she thought. She knew, without a fraction of doubt, that Kari had slipped out the door when her back was turned. God, Kari, don’t…please don’t abandon another of your children. Breeze back through that door, toss me a weak explanation, and we’ll pretend this never happened. Just don’t walk away; please don’t confirm my worst beliefs about you.

  Tate turned around to look at the door to the diner and waited for it to open, waited for the world to stop tilting. When a minute passed and then two, she sighed and turned around again. Feeling moisture on her cheeks, she wiped away her tears and blinked furiously. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t fall apart. Taking a deep, calming breath, Tate sent another anxious look to the door, hoping for a miracle.