Exposed to You

by BETH KERY

  “They must sleep so much more peacefully with a watchdog like that,” Everett mumbled.

  He was about to pour some cream into her proffered cup a moment later when he suddenly raised his hand in a caution gesture.

  “What?” Joy whispered, eyes wide.

  “Did you hear that? Daisy’s awake.”

  Joy strained to hear, but the big old house was silent.

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  Everett hastily poured some cream into her coffee and set her cup on the kitchen island. He signaled for her to follow him. She really did feel like a thief tiptoeing down the long hallway after him. They crept into Daisy’s confection of a little girl nursery, Everett several steps ahead of her. She saw him looking down into the white bassinet cradle. The next thing she knew, he was reaching in and lifting his niece into his arms.

  He grinned at Joy and made a silent gesture toward the open door. Joy led them into the empty living room.

  “Katie and Rill have both been sleep-deprived lately,” Everett murmured as they sat on the couch. “Is it okay if we watch her for a little bit and give them a little more shut-eye?”

  “Of course,” Joy said, sliding over on the cushion so that she could look into the bundle tucked in the crook of Everett’s arm. Daisy blinked sleepy-looking eyes and looked up at her uncle. She pursed perfect pink lips and made a wet burbling sound. Joy grinned. Daisy had at first demonstrated some stranger anxiety toward her last night, but by the time the evening had been over, she’d warmed up and allowed Joy to hold her. The little girl had inherited Rill’s dark hair and Katie’s delicate features. As for her eyes, they were a striking combination of Rill’s blue and Katie’s green.

  “Her eyes remind me of yours,” Joy told Everett, touching a tiny hand. Daisy bobbed her fist and turned her sleepy eyes toward her. “Hi, Daisy. Good morning, pretty girl.”

  Daisy went still and stared at her for a second as if spellbound.

  “Yeah, that’s how I feel when I look at her,” Everett murmured. Warmth flooded Joy at his casually spoken words. Daisy turned at the sound of his deep voice. He leaned down and kissed her on a smooth cheek, and Daisy pumped both of her fists at once, a definite sign of approval. Joy chuckled.

  “She loves her uncle. You must spend a lot of time with her.”

  “Not as much as I’d like,” Everett said quietly. “I can’t believe she’s already been on this planet for almost half a year. Time flies, doesn’t it, Daisy-girl?”

  He continued to talk to the baby in a low, confidential tone about anything that crossed his mind. He asked her if the Dodgers would make the play-offs this year, if she liked Joy’s running shoes better than his, and what was her opinion on Tinkerbell—minx or misunderstood? Daisy stared up at him with a somber, adorable focus. After a few minutes, Joy transferred her gaze to his face as he charmed his niece. Her heart dipped in her chest. He looked easily as happy and transfixed as Daisy did.

  “You’re going to get a big head, having a pretty girl look at you that way,” she murmured when Everett shifted Daisy to his lap.

  “He already has one when it comes to Daisy. That’s why he comes up here and wakes her up, to puff himself up a little further,” a sleepy, beleaguered voice said. Joy glanced up to see Katie standing there, her long hair tumbling around her shoulders in a wild, mussed tangle of curls and waves. She wore shorts, a tank top, slippers and a fluffy robe partially tied around her waist. “I can’t believe you woke up my baby again, Everett.”

  “She was awake, wasn’t she?” Everett asked, looking to Joy for confirmation.

  “Yes, I mean—I think so,” Joy said, hiding a smile. She’d never really had any independent confirmation of Everett’s claim that his niece was awake.

  “Morning, Joy,” Katie said as she scuffed over in her slippers and peered down at Daisy.

  “Good morning. Sorry if we woke you.”

  Katie smiled down at her daughter. “You didn’t wake me. But I’m willing to bet mean old Uncle Everett got you up again, didn’t he, Daisy?”

  Daisy blew a raspberry and laughed at the sound. She hardly looked unhappy at the idea of being yanked out of bed by Everett. They all laughed along with her. Katie patted her diaper. “Here, I’ll take her. I think she needs to be changed.”

  “I’ll do it,” Everett said, still smiling. He stood and walked out of the room, his tall male form and muscular arms a sweet contrast to the tiny, delicate female he carried. Joy shared a smile with Katie.

  “He’s impossible,” Katie said, her fondness for her brother trumping her irritated act.

  “He loves his niece,” Joy said, standing.

  “Yeah, he does. And of course Daisy worships him. One of the few women on the planet who can turn his head. Come on, I’ll make us some coffee.”

  They ended up having a casual light breakfast of juice, coffee and toast with Katie and Daisy before they finally got off for their run, promising Katie on the way out the door they’d return for lunch.

  “Aren’t you going to stretch?” Joy asked Everett when they got toward the end of the Pierce driveway. She glanced up from a bent-over position, her palms touching the concrete.

  “Why would I do that, when I can watch you do it?” he asked, his gaze on her making her feel warm.

  She shook her head and stood, stretching her arms behind her back. “You’re a mess, running around in beat-up tennis shoes, not wearing sunblock, not stretching before a jog,” she murmured amusedly. “Someone ought to take care of you.”

  “You want the job?” he asked as she started to run and kept pace with her.

  “Like you’d ever listen to anything I said,” she said, keeping her tone as light as his.

  “You might be surprised.”

  She gave him a wary sideways glance. He wore a devilish grin, but his eyes had that expression in them that she’d caught in the sketch. Her heart rate leapt up to an optimal cardiac exercise rate, and they’d barely cleared the driveway.

  By the time they started to descend the hill road, Joy following Everett’s lead, the sun was rising over the eastern tree line. It was going to be another summer scorcher. Joy was relieved when Everett suggested they get off the road and take one of the well-tended paths created by the forest preserve. Humidity clung heavily amidst all the tall trees, but the shade was a comfort and the scenery was lovely.

  “How far do you usually jog?” Everett asked her fifteen minutes later. The path they were treading followed the course of a small stream. She gave him a sideways glance. He wasn’t even a little out of breath. She had the impression he was slowing his pace to accommodate hers.

  “About four or five miles?”

  He nodded. “There’s someplace I want you to see. I’ll try to work it so we get there toward the end of our run.”

  Everett seemed perfectly capable of conversation while he jogged, but Joy found it more difficult to talk and maintain her rhythm. He must have noticed, because they jogged for a half hour in companionable silence. They began a slow, steady ascent up a hill. By the time they reached the summit, Joy was coated in a sheen of perspiration and breathing heavily.

  “It’s close by,” Everett muttered next to her.

  Joy didn’t understand what he meant and didn’t have the breath to ask him. They cleared a thick grove of trees and both of them came to a halt simultaneously.

  “Oh, it’s pretty,” Joy murmured. She bent and placed her hands on her thighs, panting. They stood on the edge of a rippling, circular lake that nestled as if in the protective palm of the forest. The sun shone over the tops of the trees on the eastern side, casting a lengthened mirrored image of them nearly the length of the lake, making the water a shimmering green with patches of blue-reflected sky interspersed.

  “Care for a swim?” Everett asked.

  Joy gave him a dubious glance. “Is this a popular spot?”

  “I’ve never seen anyone here. Even Rill and Katie don’t know about it.”

  “You�
��re keeping it a secret?” she asked, amused.

  He shrugged. “It’s my private place. I come here to think sometimes.” He whipped off the ugly polo shirt, revealing his ripped, sweat-glistening torso as casually as he might flick at a fly. He kicked off his shoes, stripped off his socks and jerked down his shorts and boxer-briefs with as much ritual or thought.

  “You coming?” he asked her when he finally stood there nude and more glorious than the rising sun.

  “I’m just going to stretch a little to cool off,” she said breathlessly.

  He nodded and headed toward the lake, shoving aside some tall grass with his hand, heedless when it snapped back behind him, brushing his ass. Joy just stood there for a second, breathing hard, watching him with her mouth gaping open, a sense of unreality clouding her consciousness. How could he possibly be so sublimely beautiful and seem about as aware of it as the air he breathed? If there were a trace of disingenuousness in his actions, a hint of contrivance, it’d be one thing. But instead, he was all easy male grace and quick intelligence, good-natured humor interspersed with sudden, dark, smoldering sexuality. He was just . . .

  Everett.

  She blinked, rising out of her trance at the loud splashing sound of his body hitting the water. She did a few stretches and wandered over to a sycamore, using the minimal cover of the low-hanging branches while she carefully took off her clothes and set them on a flat rock. Unlike Everett, whose lack of self-consciousness was epic, she felt extremely exposed walking in the tall grass completely nude. Luckily, he wasn’t there to watch her ungainly progress; he was swimming toward the middle of the lake.

  The water was pleasantly cool when she stepped into the shallows, her feet encountering smooth stones and silt. She dove in when she reached thigh level, delighting in the cold rush of water over her heated body. She swam a ways, and when she surfaced, Everett’s head poked out of the water ten feet in front of her.

  “It’s nice,” she said, returning his grin and pushing her short, streaming hair off her forehead.

  “I thought you might protest,” he said, floating closer to her, both of them treading water.

  “To the skinny-dipping?”

  “No. To swimming in a lake with a bunch of fish and worms and mud and stuff. There’s no such thing as fish and mud repellent.”

  She laughed. “Don’t make me into a priss just because I don’t want to be bitten by mosquitoes.”

  He came near enough that she could see the water droplets on his eyelashes and the green and blue dots of pigment in his irises. His hand brushed along her side in a liquid glide. She shivered at his touch.

  “Actually,” she said breathlessly, “my father used to take us camping. I’m used to roughing it a little,” she said.

  “And did you like it? Camping?”

  “More than my mother,” Joy said, laughing at a memory. “She never slept when we went camping. Never. She was too scared to in the tent. She was convinced we were going to be murdered in our sleep by a mad axman or something.”

  His smile widened. “Well, those mad axmen need to work, too. They’d be in the unemployment line if it weren’t for clueless campers.” She chuckled and touched his shoulder, drawing herself closer. His legs tangled for a moment with hers as they tread water.

  “Was your mother an artist?” he asked.

  “I thought so, even if she didn’t.” She saw his eyebrows quirk up in a query. “She was a claims adjuster, but she was always a natural at drawing. Never had any formal education, but it was uncanny the way she could capture a fleeting expression on a person’s face.”

  “Ah,” he said, his hands touching the back of her rib cage. He brought her closer and brushed his chest against the tips of her breasts. His small smile made her think the action was completely intentional. “So you get the talent from her.”

  “I think so.” She was having trouble catching her breath. Her nipples pressed fleetingly against his lower chest again. He pulled her gently in his hold, and their bodies came into contact, her right thigh curving over his hip, his cock sliding ever so briefly against her lower belly. He felt deliciously full. She bit her lip and forced her attention back to the topic of conversation. “I probably got it from my mother and from Seth’s and Dad’s mom. Grandma did beautiful pottery and watercolors.”

  “You prefer oils, don’t you?” he asked.

  Her breath caught when he touched her left breast with his right hand. He fondled her as they both continued to tread water. It felt wonderful; the water was cold and soft, and Everett was warm and hard.

  “Yes,” she replied distractedly.

  “Exclusively?” He must have noticed her dazed expression as she focused on his fingertips circling her nipple, because he clarified. “You never use any other medium?”

  “Well . . . sure, I like charcoal, and of course I use various things when I’m helping Seth with body art or makeup—”

  She gasped when he lightly pinched her nipple. Everett brushed his long body against her, making his growing erection obvious.

  “I just had this brilliant idea,” he murmured next to her right ear.

  “And does this idea possibly involve something that might get us arrested if we get caught?” she asked softly.

  “What I’m thinking of might be illegal in a couple states,” he mused as he shaped her breast to his palm and the head of his cock batted against her hip, “but I’m pretty sure we’ll be okay here.”

  “Oh, well as long as you have all the legalities worked out.”

  His smile was the clincher. Joy didn’t hesitate to follow him when he tilted his chin toward shore. She’d seriously reconsidered the allures of outdoor loving, however, by the time they climbed out of the water and she’d followed Everett through the prickly, itchy tall grass on muddy feet. She shivered despite the heat of the day when the breeze struck her wet skin. It was uncomfortable enough almost to distract her attention away from the sight of Everett walking in front of her nude, sunlight and shadow flickering across his strong back and golden buttocks.

  Almost.

  They walked beneath the shade of the sycamore tree where she’d placed her clothes. She started when Everett abruptly slapped the side of his ass. She looked at him, stunned, when he turned around.

  “Mosquito,” he said.

  She snorted with laughter. “I thought you were trying to turn me on.”

  “Did it work?” He slapped at his elbow this time. Joy shifted on her filthy feet uncomfortably.

  “Well, not really. Everett, let’s go. This isn’t . . . sexy,” she mumbled, her avid gaze on his long, strong legs and cock belying her words. He didn’t look quite as full as he’d felt while they were in the water, but as always, he was a sight to see, whether erect or not. She’d rather cavort with him in a nice, clean, bugless bed, but she had to admit, there was something erotic about seeing him naked in the woods.

  “No?” he asked, his narrowed gaze on her wet, pebbled skin. Her nipples were stiff—from the breeze, she’d thought, until something shifted in her awareness as she stared at Everett, and he at her.

  “Well . . . maybe,” she whispered. She walked toward him, dropping her arms from where she’d wrapped them protectively around her breasts. She put her hands on his shoulders, and he put his arms around her waist. A shudder went through her when he brought her against him. Their skin slid together. He was wet and hard and warm. He felt wonderful.

  “I don’t know . . . how we can manage . . . anything without getting . . . filthy,” she told him between kisses below his nipples and across his ribs.

  He cradled her jaw in his hand and lifted her chin. “All the better.”

  He covered her mouth with his. His mouth felt hot and liquid—a delicious contrast to her chilled body. His cock swelled against her belly, and her sex answered with a rush of warmth. She moaned and pressed harder against him, twisting her torso slightly, dragging her nipples against his ribs. He responded by becoming the clear aggressor in their
kiss, bowing her back against his forearm, leaning down over her and staking his claim with his agile tongue.

  Perhaps sixty seconds had passed since she’d voiced her doubts about wilderness sex. Now she was arching against him, her skin prickly and feverish, her body softened, supple, eager to be possessed. He opened a hand over one of her buttocks, squeezing the flesh lightly, his fingers tracing the crack. Something about the size of his hand in comparison to her body, the teasing, playful way he touched her, caused another rush of liquid heat through her pussy. His cock lurched between them. He molded the flesh harder, shaping her to his palm. He swatted her.

  She jumped in his arms and broke their kiss abruptly.

  “Mosquito,” he murmured, his eyes sultry.

  “Liar.”

  “Okay. I’ve wanted to spank your ass ever since I first laid eyes on it; how’s that for the truth?” he asked, his mouth twitching. He continued to look at her as his hand lowered between her legs. Her breath caught when he dipped the tip of a finger into her slit. Again, she felt his cock move.

  “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?” he murmured. He removed his hand and quickly brought it around to the front of her.

  “Ohhh,” she muttered when he thrust his forefinger into her again. He watched her face while he slowly finger-fucked her. After a moment, the sound of him moving in wet flesh reached her ears. He grunted in satisfaction. Her cheeks flushed with heat, and she bit her lower lip.

  “Do you always get this wet this fast?” he asked.

  When it comes to you, yes, she thought. But she didn’t say that. She felt vulnerable enough standing naked in the forest while Everett finger-fucked her and studied every nuance of her face.

  “I don’t know,” she replied.

  “Now you’re the liar,” he said, all remnants of playfulness gone from his voice and manner. His expression looked grim as he paused and bent, sliding his left forearm under her right thigh. He lifted so that she stood only on one foot. He slid his arm through her draped leg until her calf was braced on his shoulder. She clutched at him for balance.