He tasted lightly musky, and faintly of salt. She sucked lightly, experimentally, and heard him gasp. “Do men like this?” she whispered.
“Some do.”
“Do you?”
He laughed, though the sound was breathless. “Yes!”
Thrilled that he was responding to her, she continued to play with him. His hips moved helplessly as she teased him with her mouth, her other hand stroking lightly across his chest. She heard his breathing grow harsher, tasted the salt of his perspiration, felt his body tense, and allowed her hand to drift down to the belt buckle of his jeans.
His muscles contracted as if he’d been shot. Raising her head, she looked at him. “Mac?”
His jaw clenched, and she could see how hard it was for him to lie still, to submit to her ministrations. “Abby, sweetheart…”
Casually, she unsnapped his belt buckle and heard him groan under his breath. Then slowly, slowly she drew down his zipper.
A blind woman couldn’t have failed to be aware of the strength of his arousal, and as she peeled back the thick denim fabric, she could see the hard outline of him beneath the smooth cotton of his boxer shorts. Keeping her eyes trained on the tantalizing shape of him, she pulled off his boots then drew his jeans down over his muscular thighs and strong calves.
Casting the denims aside, she moved to sit by his hips, and stroked her hands lightly down his long legs. He jerked as she stroked her fingers lazily back up and then down again.
“Please,” he moaned.
A thrill went through her as she heard in his voice the same aching longing that she felt when he touched her intimately. She looked into his strained eyes, and deliberately slid her hand upwards to smooth over him.
“Oh!” His body arched upwards, longing for her touch.
The helpless movement sent a wave of tenderness through her. He really did want her as much as she wanted him. Suddenly, she felt very womanly, and very powerful. Her confidence growing, she slipped her fingers beneath the elastic of his waistband and drew his boxers down. He sprung free.
Her gaze brushed over him, and she knew he could see in her expression all the longing and desire she felt. Reverently, she reached out a trembling hand and stroked along his smooth length. He felt wonderful, hot and hard. She could smell the soft muskiness of his desire. She swallowed drily. Ever since he’d kissed her – there – she had dreamed of doing the same to him, of experiencing his taste, and the intimate feel of him. But did she dare act on her desire?
She raised her eyes slowly to meet his. He was watching her, and she had the fleeting impression that he was waiting for something.
Her eyes dropped once again to caress his body. He had said that his body was hers, to do with as she pleased. He’d said that he wouldn’t think badly of her for acting on her desires; that he would tell her if she did anything he didn’t like.
She looked at the flush staining his cheekbones. He looked as if he were on the rack; as if desire was biting into him.
It shocked her. She couldn’t bear to see him hurt. All at once, the decision was made. For better or worse, she was going to do as she wanted, and show him her true, passionate self. Her determined eyes met his, and then she slowly lowered her head to take him into her mouth.
Finally, finally she was doing it. She could hardly believe this moment was real. He tasted hot and firm in her mouth, with a clean, musky taste uniquely his. She felt her body liquefy and desire writhe in the pit of her stomach as she gently laved him with her tongue.
He gave a choked, incoherent cry and his hips churned instinctively. He tried to control the movement, to still, and she knew it was out of consideration for her. But she didn’t want that. A fierce determination seized her. When he had done this to her, the pleasure had all but driven her out of her mind, to the point where she had no control over the wild movements of her body as it was overtaken by pleasure. She wanted him to experience the same intensity of need, the same overwhelming passion.
She allowed her hands to stroke across him as she played and nibbled him with soft lips. He shuddered as her delicate tongue danced over him, and then took him more deeply into her mouth.
She sucked lightly, and he cried out. “Abby, Abby...”
She felt his need and it aroused a wild passion in her. His scent, his taste, aroused her beyond bearing. She ignored his wild pleas, and focused on enjoying the pleasure of so intimate a contact.
She smiled inwardly as she felt him give up the fight not to move; now his hips moved of their own volition, his breath rasped in his chest; his hands were clenched. She felt him throb, and knew he was close to losing control.
Elated, she felt him tremble, felt the heat of the sweat on his body, felt his legs move restlessly. He twisted beneath her, writhing helplessly against her stroking hands and tormenting mouth.
He sobbed helplessly. “Abby, you have to stop…”
She ignored him. She knew what he was afraid of, but this was her choice, her call. She renewed her efforts and he cried out, panicked. “Stop! You must—”
His body arched, and then he was spiraling out of control, his body thrusting helplessly as he yelled out in anguish and excruciating pleasure; she felt his body throb and pulse, and then he cried out as a wild passion overtook him and he exploded with a roar of pure, savage joy.
Afterwards, he rolled on his side and gathered her up in trembling arms.
“Sweetheart, Abby, Abby,” he muttered, crushing her against his chest. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop.”
She grabbed him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, feeling the tremors running through him. “It’s okay, it’s okay, darling,” she whispered. “Mac. You let me. You let me do that to you. And it was so wonderful.”
She hugged him close, hearing his disbelieving gasp. “You... you liked it? It was okay? Even when...” His voice trailed off. She looked up and saw a flicker of vulnerability in his expression.
It touched her. She reached up, holding his chin in her hand, making him look at her. “Darling, I loved it,” she said.
He closed his eyes and swallowed convulsively. His arms contracted around her. “Oh, Abby, I love you so much.”
She stroked his back with a tender hand. “I love you, too.”
They slept then for a while, lying naked in the soft grass with the warm sun upon them like a soft blanket.
Abby drowsed, safe in Mac’s strong arms, conscious of a bone deep contentment. She could still taste him, and with her face resting against his muscular chest, she could breathe in his comforting scent.
By the time she awoke, the sun was moving towards the west and she could tell it was late afternoon. She stretched sensuously, then became aware that Mac was awake and watching her.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“Hi.” She felt a little shy, and he must have seen it, because he smiled ruefully and sat up, saying lightly, “I promised you a picnic.”
Suddenly aware that she was, in fact, starving, she sat up. “That sounds great,” she said.
She flushed as she realized that she was still naked, but Mac turned easily and picked up her clothes. He handed them to her, and watched her clutch them against her chest. “I’ll go unpack the picnic,” he said, turning away.
She pulled her clothes on in a hurry, not really sure why she felt the need to cover up, but feeling it all the same.
In the distance, she saw Mac pull on his jeans and then take a pack from his saddlebag.
He returned, and set it down between them, before laying out a feast that was fit for a king. He grinned at her astonishment as he pulled out a checked cloth, and then laid out chicken, cheeses, bread rolls, fruit and thick slabs of fruitcake, along with bottles of water and a bottle of wine.
“Wow,” she said blankly.
“Yes. Calla’s really outdone herself this time.”
“She certainly has.”
They ate together contentedly, talking easily in the way
that lovers do. Once they’d finished, Mac packed everything away.
“That was delicious,” Abby murmured.
Mac nodded. “I needed it. You wore me out, you witch!”
She grinned as he took her into his arms once more, and they lay entwined together. “Got to keep you in shape, Mac. We’ve got lots of adventures ahead!”
He chuckled, and then his face sobered. “Did you really enjoy what we did earlier? I wouldn’t want you to say yes just because I loved it.”
Abby sat up on one arm and glared down at him. “Of course I did! I’d tell you if I didn’t.”
Something in his face relaxed, and she realized that although Mac had clearly enjoyed what she’d done, he still wasn’t sure of her.
She looked at him and a smile played across her lips. “So you loved it, huh?”
Surprisingly, he flushed. “I did. You... you drove me wild. Clean out of my mind, if you want the truth. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Abby felt pride and delight flood through her. She felt like a million dollars, like she could conquer the world. Like she could conquer all her inhibitions and be the woman she really was inside.
With a smile of pure confidence, she realized that there was something more she could do to show him how much she wanted him. With mischief in her eyes, she pushed him down onto his back and straddled him.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” he laughed, and then his eyes darkened as he saw the intent in hers.
“Guess?” she whispered as she reached for his zipper.
“Oh! Oh Abby, sweetheart—”
Then neither of them was capable of speech as passion flamed into life and consumed them both in a wild loving like nothing either of them had ever experienced. By the end of it, Mac was in no doubt at all that Abby desired him wholeheartedly, and Abby knew for certain that her husband loved her uninhibited, sexual self.
She lay looking at the brilliant blue sky, feeling exhausted but replete, whilst Mac breathed deeply beside her. “Wow,” he whispered. “Sweetheart, you are pure dynamite.”
She gave a soft laugh. “But it takes you to light the fuse, Mac!”
Chapter 3
The afternoon was cathartic for them both and the next few weeks were some of the happiest Abby could remember. Although they were both busy, their time together was filled with laughter and intimacy. True to his word, Mac set aside time, and once a week they took the horses and went riding, stopping somewhere beautiful to share a picnic, chat, and sometimes make love.
Both of them were more honest about their tastes, and Abby felt her confidence blossom as she saw Mac’s delight in her openness. She, too, took a deep, intimate pleasure in listening to Mac confide his own desires. As they talked, their ideas merged and evolved, their trust and understanding of each other grew, and their love life thrived.
Things were going well at the ranch, too. Abby had made the decision to offer to sell Calla and Jeb her father’s ranch, and they had accepted with delight. A price had been agreed that was higher than Abby wanted but lower than Calla and Jeb thought it should be. But they’d compromised, and now the older couple was happily planning their move into their new home. It was obvious that they were thrilled to find somewhere to live so close to the Lone Star, and Abby and Mac were both pleased and relieved to know their closest and dearest friends were going to be nearby. Abby couldn’t help but think that her father would have been happy to know that people he had known and liked were going to move into his house.
Nick seemed to be settling in well, and had earned the respect of the ranch hands. He was a hard worker who expected everyone to give a hundred percent, but never asked anyone to do more than he did himself. Moreover, he worked efficiently and knowledgeably, making sound decisions. And if he was also very private and closed-mouthed about his life, well that was his prerogative. A man’s business was his own.
“I reckon he’ll be ready to take over properly within six months,” Jeb said to Mac, as they rode the boundaries, checking the fences.
Mac nodded. “He’s doing well. But six months? That’s sooner than you planned. You know you can carry on for as long as you want—”
Jeb shook his head. “Six months will give us time to get the house ready, and then we’ll make our move. You’ll be all right with Nick.”
“I’ll miss you though, Jeb.”
“Yes. I’ll not be far away, but I’ll miss you, too.”
* * *
But everything changed one night when Mac received a phone call. Abby was cuddled in the snug with Mac watching television when the telephone rang. Mac picked it up, assuming that a call so late in the evening would be from a friend or neighbor. But it was not. Abby knew straight away as his body stiffened and his tone changed that something was badly wrong.
She sat up, looking at him in consternation. He hung up, his face bleak.
“Mac! What’s the matter?”
“It’s the oil well. There’s been an accident. One of the workers has been injured – burned. They’re saying it was human error, but I’ve told them to suspend production until a full investigation has been carried out. I’m not risking anyone else’s life. I need to know for sure it’s safe.”
“What’s happened to the worker?”
“He’s in hospital. Serious burns, but not critical.”
“His healthcare bills are covered?”
“Of course.” He looked at her, smiling faintly. “I cover all of my employees.”
She smiled at him ruefully. Of course he did. His protective instincts would demand it. She stood up and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “You’ll need to go and sort it out.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll come with you. I’m sure I can ask for a leave of absence from the library.”
Mac shook his head. “No. I’d love you to, but it’s going to be grim. I could be stuck there for a couple of weeks. Besides, it would be a real shame to cancel the children’s club just as it’s getting established again.”
She sighed. He was right, but she would miss him. “Okay. Well, we’ll just have to phone each other every night,” she said.
With an unhappy expression, he bent his head and kissed her deeply. “I don’t want to leave you.”
She pulled his head down for a kiss. “I don’t want you to go, but you must,” she said. “It’ll go by in a flash. I’ll be here waiting for you.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll fly down in the morning,” he said. “But for now – let’s go to bed.”
They made love with a desperate urgency, as if that night might be their last together. Afterwards, they clung together, breathing in the scent of each other, feeling the comfort of each other’s heartbeat and dreading the sunrise. But all too soon, the hours passed and it was time for Mac to go.
Putting a brave face on it, Abby stood in the morning sunshine and waved the helicopter off. Then, suppressing tears, she walked slowly back into the homestead. Over a mug of coffee with Calla, she calmed down, and decided that there was no use moping. She would use the time whilst Mac was away to work hard on the children’s club. There were displays to be put up, activities to plan, flyers to be designed and printed. She would use her time constructively, and look forward to Mac’s return.
She said as much to Calla, who nodded approvingly. “Keeping busy is the best way to cope,” she said wisely. “Why don’t you arrange to meet up with Holly, as well?”
Abby brightened. “That’s a good idea. I’ll see her at work this afternoon. She might be free on Saturday. Maybe we could go shopping and for a meal.”
However, her plans had to be put on hold when she got to work. It was extremely busy, and Abby was dismayed to find that Holly wasn’t there. Instead, Mr. Franks was at the desk.
“Abby, I’m glad you’ve arrived!” Mr. Franks said. “It’s been chaos all morning.”
Abby took her coat off, and stowed her handbag under the desk.
“I thought Holly was due in t
his morning?”
“I’ve changed her shifts. I want her to work opposite you, to see if we can get a senior citizen’s reading club running.”
“Oh.”
Abby’s spirits plummeted. She really enjoyed working with Holly and she would miss her. But she could see that a club for older people might be popular.
She pinned on a smile, and turned to the next person waiting in line to borrow books.
There was no time for the rest of the day to do anything apart from work alongside Mr. Franks, serving at the desk and helping customers with queries. Things didn’t die down until just before five, when she took the opportunity to reshelf some books.
She was stood on top of the ladder putting books on the high shelves when Mr. Franks came round the corner.
“Oh, I’ll give you a hand,” he said. He picked up a pile of books from the trolley, and passed them up to her.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully. It would save her having to go up and down the steps to get them.
She’d shelved several more when she glanced down at Mr. Franks. He was looking away from her, and for a moment she wondered what he was looking at. Then, to her acute embarrassment, she realized that his eyes were on her legs, and that he must be able to see under her skirt.
She climbed down the ladder abruptly, her face scarlet. Mr. Franks looked surprised, and she realized that he didn’t know she’d seen him looking.
“I – uh – excuse me,” she muttered, and walked quickly towards the ladies’ restroom. She locked herself in a cubicle, and was dismayed to find that she was shaking, though with anger, revulsion or embarrassment she couldn’t be sure. How dare he look at her like that? Her skin crawled at the thought of it.
But perhaps she was overreacting. She’d thought he was looking up her skirt, but she couldn’t be sure. Maybe he was just thinking, and not looking at anything in particular. After all, she knew that she did that sometimes, staring off into space when she was pondering something.
Teaching Abby (Lone Star Family Values) Page 11