Riding the Storm

by Julie Miller

  Whoa.

  Nate had fallen as silent as she had.

  The air seemed close. Her pulse hammered in her ears.

  Suddenly, the sunny spot didn’t feel like a warm, magical place of rest, but something decidedly hotter. Secluded. Intimate. She didn’t know what to do about it, but she understood the sultry invitation hanging in the air between them.

  Nate understood, too.

  “Jolene.” His voice was a throaty rumble that shivered along her spine. “I don’t think—”

  In a burst of nervous energy, Jolene pulled the apple out of her blouse and held it out to him in her open palm. “I thought you might be hungry.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  JOLENE HELD OUT the shiny red apple like Eve offering temptation itself.

  Nate couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t get past the hungry perusal of her eyes, the erratic rhythm of her breathing—or his own fiercely male reaction to her sweetly parted lips and not-so-innocent invitation.

  His throat felt tight, his mouth dry. His stomach was a knot of tension and his groin ached with the need to possess her, seduce her, teach her how to complete what her soft voice and eager hands and hungry eyes had started last night.

  “I’ve never done this before,” she blurted out, snatching the apple back to her chest and blushing a bright, rosy pink.

  Her announcement put the brakes on his out-of-control hormones and startled a bit of rational thinking into his head. He didn’t have to ask what this meant. She’d been thinking hot, steamy sex just like he had. But this didn’t make sense.

  He looked down at her belly. “You’re pregnant.”

  She nodded. Then she clutched both hands around the apple and crinkled her face in an apologetic frown. “In vitro fertilization. Joaquin and I never had sex. I’ve never had sex. I’ve done some heavy petting, but not with my husband. And not very often. I don’t date much. Well, even before I was married, I didn’t. Once you get a reputation in a small town as a good girl or best friend, guys don’t…”

  She paused for a breath. “Joaquin was already so sick and he said he wouldn’t demand anything. We were good buddies since high school so I knew we would get along as a couple. And he needed a bone marrow transplant, so we went to the justice of the peace and then we went to Houston and…”

  Now she was gesturing with the apple. “His sperm and my…well, you probably know how that’s done. But he died before…We waited too long. Now I’m having his baby. Make no mistake, I love this little guy. I want him more than anything. But I never…”

  Nate listened until she ran out of gas, then translated her rambling into a message he could understand.

  “You’re a pregnant virgin?”

  She rolled her eyes and waved her hands in the air. “Woo-hoo. Freaky me. Call the Guinness Book of World Records.”

  “Stop it.” Nate closed the distance between them. He gently seized her flailing hands and pried the apple from her grasp. “You and your husband never…?”

  “Nope.” She pulled her hands free and hugged herself. “And I’m probably not going to right now, am I?”

  Stunned was Nate’s first reaction.

  He passed by a moment of disbelief.

  But as he replayed everything he knew about this woman—her eagerness to help anyone in need, her willingness to set aside what was best for herself to help that person, her endearing lack of experience and enthusiastic desire to learn each time they’d gotten close—he realized she was telling the truth.

  Acceptance followed.

  Then he savored the greedier emotions building inside him. The absolution from guilt. A bereaved friend wasn’t the same thing as a bereaved widow. The thrill of discovery. She could be his in a way no other woman ever had been. The blossoming of hope. Jolene Kannon-Angel and her baby were two miracles who had careened into his world and given him a purpose. They breathed fresh energy into the doldrums of his life. He felt younger. Whole.

  Home.

  Despite her downturned face and embarrassed cheeks, Jolene kept glancing up to read his reaction. Hadn’t she listened to his secrets last night? Tended his wounds? Cried for his pain? Nurtured his battered pride?

  “For God’s sake, say something,” she begged.

  He owed her one.

  He owed them one.

  Nate didn’t intend to disappoint.

  He rubbed the apple against his thigh, then flipped it around in his hand until he found a firm spot. Sinking his teeth through the sleek skin and juicy flesh, he took a greedy bite. He crunched the tart, ripe fruit between his teeth and wiped the succulent juice from his lips with the back of his hand.

  Jolene’s eyes followed every move. The rhythm of her breathing changed. Her lower lip trembled, and everything potent and masculine inside him quaked in response.

  Nate swallowed.

  “I am hungry.” His voice sounded like the growly promise of thunder to his ears.

  Jolene tipped up her chin in anticipation. Inexperienced, he reminded himself.

  But great instincts.

  Nate tossed the apple aside. He thrust his fingers into the hair at her nape and pulled her mouth up to his.

  She came up on her toes and braced her hands at his waist as he crushed her lips beneath his. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and caressed soft, wet skin and hard, straight teeth. Her tongue darted out to catch his and play tag.

  Her palms were cool against his sun-warmed skin. She dragged them along his flanks, slid them together against his stomach, pushed them higher over the swell of his pecs. Nate sucked in his breath at the insistent press of the heels of her palms against his nipples.

  She snatched her hands away with a gasp of disappointment. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt—?”

  Nate dragged her hands right back to the sensitive nubs and rubbed her against him. “That feels amazing,” he breathed against her temple, catching that silky strand of hair with his nose. “You touch me, angel,” he instructed, dropping his head to reclaim her mouth, “however you want.”

  “Like this?” A quick student, Jolene took over the sensuous massage, rolling the buds between her fingers and zapping lightning bolts of desire straight to his groin. She learned the trick of alternating each stimulating stroke with a gentler caress so that the intensity of that lightning increased with each touch.

  “Oh, yeah.” He slid his hands down either side of her neck and let his fingers stray beneath the collar of her shirt to trace the delicate arch of her shoulder. “Just like that.”

  Her breasts drifted closer to the hard wall of his chest. Through the thin layers of her blouse and bra, the beaded tips teased his skin, sending tiny shocks jolting along every nerve ending.

  He tipped her head farther back to suckle the wide, lush bounty of her lower lip. He stroked his thumbs along the smooth column of her throat and felt the vibration of her delight humming beneath the skin. “You’re so responsive, angel,” he praised her. “You make me feel more of a man than I really am.”

  She moaned against his mouth, then pulled her lips away with a noisy smack. Her eyes were hazy, turbulent with gathering clouds of passion. “We talked about that,” she scolded. She slid her hands beneath his arms, skidded them along his spine, then reached down and grabbed two deliberate handfuls of his tush. Nate jerked, helplessly thrusting his hip against hers. “You feel perfect to me.”

  Catching up with the student, Nate took the same liberties with Jolene. He slid his hands down her long back, over the flare of her hips, and palmed the sweet, ripe curves of that beautiful butt.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” he said. Jolene gasped as he squeezed and lifted her up against his swollen heat. “I want you, angel.” He whispered the husky plea against her ear and kissed her there, then rubbed himself shamelessly against her. Her eyes widened in unexpected bliss and her head fell back. Nate lowered her lips to kiss her throat, tonguing the hot, rapid beat of her pulse. “I want you now.”

  She was nodding, clutching at h
im, twisting her hips. “Yes,” she whispered, raking her fingers into his hair, shoving aside his ball cap and guiding his mouth back to hers. “Yes, Nate. Yes.”

  Suddenly they were a flurry of hands and kisses, touching this, unbuttoning that. Nate sank to his knees in the middle of the blanket and pulled Jolene down with him, kissing her all the way.

  She threw her arms around his neck and her body slid down the length of his. Every cell in him sprang to attention, and he absorbed every maddening detail about her. The soft give of her firm breasts. The pebbly-hard nubs at the tip of each peak. The thrust of her small belly. The rosy color of her lips and the flush of passion on her cheeks.

  The swelling in his knee had lessened, but the damn ache would always be with him. After a few charged moments—just long enough to undo her hair and let it fall around his face and shoulders—he surrendered to the demands of his body and laid her on the floor. With barely a grunt of pain, he came down beside her. He threw his bum leg over both of hers and spread himself wider, nudging her hips into the vee of his legs.

  With reverent attention to every soft, beautiful inch of skin, he slowly peeled off her blouse. He slipped one bra strap off her shoulder, and then the other. But when he tucked his fingers into the lacy cups and started to pull, panic replaced the passion in her eyes and her hands shot up to cover herself.

  “Don’t.” It was a husky whisper of raw self-awareness. But she kept her gaze locked on his. “Maybe you should try somewhere else. Do something different. Even with the baby, they’re not—”

  “Shh.” Nate pressed his finger against her lips to stop the protest. “They’re perfect. Exactly the size and shape I’ve been looking for,” he teased.

  “Nate.”

  Keeping her tucked firmly in the scissor-hold of his legs, he leaned back and let the sunlight from above shine down on her. With the gentlest touch his eager fingers could manage, he stripped the bra off her, then feasted his eyes on her beautiful body, from the puckered, rosy tips of each breast to the fertile swell of her belly.

  The sun dappled her naked skin, giving her a golden glow. He touched his finger to one bright spot and felt her shiver. When she’d quieted, he touched another. The tip of her chin, the indentation at the base of her throat, the subtle valley between her breasts.

  “Nate.” His name on that hopeful, husky plea thickened his blood and sent it pulsing through him.

  She liked a good argument. Nate summoned a grin and used her own words against her. “The males on this ranch took an informal survey. And we decided you’re the sexiest thing in the entire state of Texas.”

  “We?”

  “Me.” He rocked his hips over hers, but fought to hold himself back. “I think you’re sexy. The other guys have to find their own woman.”

  “Don’t encourage Rocky—”

  “Forget the bull.” In more ways than one. He was burning with the need to do this. Now. “This is you and me and the Texas sun. Nobody else.”

  He palmed her breast. She trembled. “Everything about you…” He kissed the other breast. Her knees jerked up; her fingers dug into his shoulder and chest. “Is perfect.”

  “Nate—”

  He stopped her protest with a kiss. He wasn’t going to hear any arguments about not being pretty enough. He just couldn’t see it. “You sure you want a beat-up old warhorse like me to be the one?”

  She framed his face between her hands. “I’ve never wanted anyone else. Not like this.”

  Jolene pulled him in for a tender kiss that quickly spun out of control. Nate kicked off his boots and freed himself from his jeans. When she wrapped a curious hand around his aching shaft, he nearly came unglued. “Easy, angel.”

  “Hurry, Nate.”

  He got rid of her jeans and panties and slipped his fingers inside her tight, weeping channel. She was primed to explode and so was he. He bent her knees up and slipped between them, propping himself up on his elbows to protect the child inside her.

  “This might hurt some,” he cautioned, nudging her slick heat.

  She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down, demanding a kiss. He eased himself in partway, retreated.

  “More.” She nibbled the jut of his chin, thrust her hips beneath his. “More.”

  He pushed in again, farther. Retreated.

  “Nate!”

  He grinned at her sharp, breathy request.

  Swirling torrents of white-hot need clashed with the soul-healing power of her acceptance—her desire—for him.

  He plunged in a third time and found retreat was no longer an option. He buried himself to the hilt, meeting every thrust of her hips, loving every greedy demand of her hands and mouth.

  Again and again he took what she offered and gave back everything in return until the storm building between them struck with full force. Jolene arched her neck and cried out, the tremors inside her cascading all around him. Nate ground his hips, threw back his head and emptied himself inside her.

  When he could think once more, Nate rolled onto his back and gathered Jolene in his arms to rest on top of him. Her legs tangled with his. She fingered the bandage on his shoulder and sucked in deep, calming breaths. He secured her against him with one hand on her bottom and the other at her neck beneath the tangled, silky fall of her hair. A gentle breeze through the roof cooled their sticky skin.

  “I feel so good. I…I liked it. A lot.” She groaned and buried her face in his chest. He could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “Oh, God, that sounded so naive.”

  Nate tipped her chin up and kissed her forehead. He looked deep into those blue eyes, feeling humbled by her honesty. “It sounded like a mighty nice compliment. And if it means anything to you, I liked it, too. A lot.”

  Her answering smile forgave sins and sparked dreams. But he wasn’t ready to leave the moment and face either one right now. So he kissed her once more and tucked her up tight against him.

  Nate willingly held her until she grew heavy and he knew she’d drifted off to sleep. The baby stirred between them and Nate adjusted their positions to give the little guy room to maneuver.

  But he couldn’t quite let go of her. Not yet. He knew he was holding something precious in his arms, something he’d only recently discovered. Something he wasn’t ready to lose.

  Crazy Texas woman. Losing her virginity in a barn loft after a hurricane had decimated her home and left her stranded with no amenities whatsoever.

  Giving that gift to him.

  Crazy.

  He pulled the ends of the blanket loosely over their bodies, kissed her closed eyelids and cuddled her close beneath the last rays of sunshine streaming in through the roof.

  Crazy wonderful.

  JOLENE PICKED UP the dirty paper plates and blew out the candles on the kitchen table, temporarily plunging the room into darkness and erasing the lingering image of the awkward dinner she’d shared with Nate. Their conversation had been stilted and polite, on topics ranging from food and supply lists to seasonal weather expectations.

  Neither of them had said much about what had happened in the barn, beyond his report that she’d dozed for about twenty minutes and that he’d have to get back on the roof in the morning since he’d run out of daylight to complete the job. As eagerly as they’d stripped off their clothes and explored each other’s bodies, they’d made a point of turning their backs to each other and hurriedly dressing.

  Jolene couldn’t tell if that was the practical side of Nate—after all, he’d insisted on carting everything back down the ladder for her, then climbing down a few rungs ahead of her in case she lost her grip or missed her footing. Or whether the reality of what he’d just done—and who he’d done it with—had set in along with regret.

  The dinner itself had been a delicious concoction of stew from one of his Grandpa Nate’s secret recipes. Nate had tossed in just about every type of meat and vegetable they had on hand so that nothing would go to waste now that the contents of her freezer had thawed. Jolene’s p
late was embarrassingly clean, even after two helpings and a serving of “creme brulee” made from a pudding cup, brown sugar and the lighter for the grill—Nate’s creation. Her ravenous appetite was the result of pregnancy and hard work—and the emotional and physical drain of having sex.

  Great sex.

  Change-her-life-in-one-orgasmic-rush-and-cuddle-like-she-was-in-love-afterward sex.

  “Oh, Lordy.”

  Jolene flipped on the switch of a battery-powered lantern, knowing that standing around in the dark and reliving every moment before, during and after the event wasn’t going to improve her situation any.

  The lantern flooded the kitchen with a cool, yellowish light that hinted at secrets and shadows and unknown hazards beyond the edges of its illumination. It was nothing like the warm, cocooning rays of sunshine that had warmed her body and wrapped her in a hopeful spell up in the loft that afternoon with Nate.

  She’d made love to a man.

  He’d made love to her.

  She’d lost her freaky status as Turning Point’s first and only pregnant virgin. She’d lost a few of those self-conscious doubts about her own sexuality.

  She’d lost her heart. Sealed the deal completely. Set herself up to be hurt in ways that a mother’s abandonment and a good friend’s death couldn’t touch. Jolene had been too young to fully comprehend her mother’s choice, and she hadn’t had the skills or the miracle up her sleeve to save Joaquin’s life.

  But she could have kept her feelings for Nate in check. They could have stayed friends and coexisted at a less intimate level if she’d been paying closer attention. But, no, like everything else, she’d jumped in with both feet and no life jacket and fallen in love with the guy. She’d listened to her heart and trusted her gut and completely ignored common sense and the inevitable pain headed her way.

  She’d known him for thirty-six hours. Thirty-six! And they’d barely gotten along for the first twelve. There were men in Turning Point she’d known all of her twenty-eight years whom she’d never even considered dating. And now she’d not only slept with this stranger, she’d given him her heart.