Love Remains (4 OAKS)

by Gayle Eden

  “You going out?” Mike looked him over.

  “Thought your mom might want to get off the ranch.” Kane met Carter’s grin with a wink.

  Long jersey on with a pair of hip jeans and sneakers, Mike hopped off the stool at the counter, and asked, “Like a date?”

  Sipping a cold soda, Kane muttered, “Yeah. Like a date. Just don’t tell her that’s what it is.”

  Michael snorted and grabbed his ball cap off the counter.

  “Ready?” Skye looked at Mike.

  “Sure.”

  “See you later.” Carter slapped him on the shoulder. He leaned to murmur, before he left, “We’ll take him to Skye’s afterwards, and he can play video games after he helps us clean up. Probably stay the night.”

  Kane’s lean cheek flexed. “I’ll be lucky if she lets me kiss her.”

  “You can do better than that.” Carter snorted, “She couldn’t keep her eyes off you today.”

  When they’d gone, Kane heard Sage moving around upstairs. He ground coffee and made lattes, though it took a few times to get the hang of Skye’s complicated brewer.

  Carrying hers upstairs, he knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  He entered, holding the coffee. “Made my first latte. It might be awful.” He let her take it.

  His nose filled with the aroma of her perfume and soap. Her hair was down, tucked behind her ears. She wore a deep blue summer dress with a diamond shape cut out of the bodice and back. Her shoulders bare and smooth. Her feet were in wedge sandals.

  “It’s good.” She smiled after sipping. “I’m impressed.” Her gaze drifted over him.

  “Ready?”

  She finished the coffee. “Yeah. Where we going?”

  “Dinner and a drink?”

  “Sounds good.”

  She got her purse. He left, checking everything and locking up, before meeting her outside. He’d cleaned and washed the midsize car he kept. Opening the door for her, when she buckled and Kane closed the door, he got in behind the wheel and started it, slid a CD in the player.

  “Want the windows or AC”

  “Windows down.” She had a clip in her hand and used it to do her hair in a twist in back, and clipped it, long spirals drifting down her jaw, a couple snaking free at her nape.

  Elbow on the door, he swung out and they headed down the drive, the sound of, Somewhere Love Remains filling the car from the speakers.

  He was on the main road when he glanced out the corner of his eye and saw her eyeing his frame and watching his hands on the wheel before she pulled a pair of classic sunglasses out her purse and put them on.

  Kane was still turned on. Hell, he was nervous. He could make a move and maybe she’d move out.

  Didn’t want that to happen.

  His eyes skimmed her bare legs, the dress hem high on her thighs. Her toenails were painted darker mauve. Her hand rested in her lap, nails neat and clear polished, a band on her thumb and antique ring on her pinky. He could catch whiffs of her scent that stirred his senses further.

  He watched the road again and offered, “There’s a variety of music in that case between the seats.”

  “I like this. Love that song.”

  He did too. It meant something personal to him when he heard it.

  They were nearing the Italian restaurant where he’d made reservations. He asked her if that was okay. She said it was. There was so much sexual tension in the car; they didn’t talk much after that.

  At the restaurant, they were shown to their table. She’d let her hair down, combed it, in the car. He ordered wine, and soon they had their dinners. He started small talk about Michel and they joked a bit about his Taylor Swift crush, and talked about the friends he’d made, how he was adjusting well.

  Kane tried not to watch her the whole time. When he awaited her return from the restroom, after they had paid the check, he watched heads turn and observe her walk toward him. She had a full figure, and she walked with a subconscious sexiness, carrying herself in a subtle hip swinging way. Her dark coloring, red lips, beautiful eyes, that raven hair, it was quite a package.

  For her part, Sage joined him and stepped out into the summer night. Rain was sprinkling but felt great on her skin and misting her hair. She’d eyed his muscled thighs, his strong brown hands, and broad shoulders often. His slight drawl, deep when he spoke, teased her ear, and stirred her. When she got in, brushing him as he held the door, her lungs were full of his warm cologne.

  “O’Malley’s will be rowdy tonight.”

  She’d had three wines already. “That’s okay.”

  “I’ve another idea.” He turned off a ways down, and parked. “Be right back.”

  When he returned, he handed her a bottle of wine. “Nice rainy night to enjoy that.”

  “I’ve had more than my usual already.”

  He grinned at her. “Mike will probably stay at the barn. You’ve made some changes, been busy, deserve to celebrate a little.”

  It wasn’t that. It was the fact that the lower her inhibitions, the higher her awareness of him.

  The wipers were slapping by the time they reached 4 oaks. She got out, laughing as she was pelted with the drops.

  “I’ve an umbrella in here somewhere.” He was digging around for it.

  “No. It’s okay.” She chuckled and pulled off her shoes, carrying them, her bare feet hitting puddles on the steps as she went up them, still carrying the wine.

  He was wet too, having forgotten his hat in the car. “I’ll get glasses.”

  “Okay.” She set her purse in a chair and set the bottle on a table. Watching the rain, while pushing back her wet hair. Landscape lights by the drive showed the curtain of rain, and given her sexual awareness, the damp dress against her skin, Sage knew it was going to be a reckless night.

  Kane returned with glasses, having taken off his boots and shirt.

  He laid a pack of smokes on the table and opened the wine.

  She lit one while he filled glasses.

  Sitting up on the banister, her legs out and balanced on the six-inch cap rail, she leaned her head back against the brace, heedless of being sprayed by raindrops, observing its shimmer on her legs, feet, and arms. Sage drank the first glass while watching the rain, finishing the smoke, before she looked at Kane.

  He had finished his too, and leaned on the other brace, facing her, looking at her, his bare foot braced back against the post.

  Her eyes dropped to his bare chest, over muscled arms, down those ripped abs and the low riding jeans. Her body stirred. Her blood heated. She held out her glass.

  He poured the second.

  Sage got down and walked idly to the steps, then down them, hearing him chuckle deeply as she hunched her shoulders at the initial deluge, but soon held her arms out, letting the rain bathe her.

  “It feels good.” She arched her neck and closed her eyes, high, intoxicated, but high in an aroused way too. Yeah, definitely feeling reckless.

  He joined her. She swiped a hand over her wet face, turning to look at his water-spiked lashes, the green eyes shimmering; his hard jaw was starting to shadow with scruff. The water shimmered on his deep tanned skin. It enhanced his sensual peach lips.

  “If you’re going to play in the rain. You gotta really play.” Kane took the glass, drained it, and then grabbed her hand, dragging her with him, down the steps and into the drive.

  She yelped, and then giggled as he had both her hands and did a couple of circles, splashing her through the water with him. Kane tugged her along, around the oaks, his deep laughter rumbling as their feet got muddy, and his hems were wet. She slid and almost fell on the moss.

  “Are you nuts?” Sage yelped on a laugh when he took her running with him, down the drive—and hit every puddle of water there was.

  Her hair and clothing soaked, Sage had never played, never like this. She couldn’t believe how much fun it was. Kane captivated her, soaked too, his jeans sliding lower with the water, the hems muddy,
his white smile flashing. Every time she screamed or danced in a puddle, he threw his head back and laughed.

  Thunder rumbled. A streak of lightening flashed.

  “Oh—shit.” Her eyes rounded. She winced, still ankle deep in a puddle when it flashed again.

  He was in front of her, the rain beating down on bronze flesh and soaked hair eyes flashing with the lightening. “You look necked. Beautiful.”

  She peeked downward, seeing her dress molded to her skin, her nipples hard. Looking back to him, she wet her lips, tasting the rain, pushing her wet hair back from her face.

  Kane still hand her hand. He led her, slower, back to the steps, and up them- reaching the porch just as a sizzle and boom sounded. He turned her and cupped her jaws, leaning down, kissing her, sensual, intimate, so hot their skin flushed.

  Sliding her hands over his hard shoulders, Sage rose on her tiptoes, accommodating the slow movement of his head, and drowning with liquid heat inside. His lips cool with rain, inner mouth and tongue warm, sexy, seeking, and finding all the secret places in her mouth.

  His hands moved down, over her shoulders, cupping them, then to her hips, feeling warm through the soaked dress. Breathing in short aroused puffs, their lips parted enough for their eyes to meet when their lashes lifted.

  Her curves against his strong muscles, Sage could feel his wet jeans against her legs, his bare feet nearly touching hers.

  From the opened great room the sound of Crazy Girl was wafting under the rain…

  When he lowered his head again, kissing over her face, scoring back to her ear, she cupped his head and brought his lips back to her mouth, moaning deep in her throat, surrendering, starved—when he drove his tongue in, explicit, hot, and erotic. His hands tightened their hold on her hips. She stretched higher, delving her own tongue deeper,

  It was like fire, electric, like rain, sizzling, with skin alive and sensitive, taste enhanced, everything amplified.

  Breathing heavy when he lifted his head to suck in air, Kane held her tighter.

  Her breaths bathed his throat. His heart pounded against her breast.

  Sage kissed him there, on that brown throat. She used her tongue to taste him, feeling his head bow, his lips brush her ear, hearing his murmured, “Yes.” When she suckled and laved the water across his collarbone.

  She dipped her head to bite his pec, watching the chills form on his dark skin before she suckled his nipple.

  He had her ass now, both hands on it. When she lifted her head, laving his flavor from her lips; he stared at her mouth, her eyes and husked, “Are you cold?”

  “Hot.” She shook her head.

  Kane stepped back and led her over to the side of the porch brace, in the faint light from the great room. Those green eyes held hers while he found the latch and zipper of her dress, asking permission.

  She whispered, “Please.”

  Kane undid it and pealed it down, all the way off her, before draping it over the banister.

  For a moment, he surveyed her body, clad in the lace shorts-style panties, and the bra with crisscross straps in back. When he reached around her, she stayed his hand and undid the front clasp, feeling her generous breasts freed, and the skin tightening in the air as she slid it off and let it drop.

  Sage leaned back on the brace, her ribs lifting on a breath that came out unsteady.

  Kane touched her breasts, lifted them, in his palms, while he kissed her hot and deep, his thumbs brushing the peaks, before he was dipping down, tasting them, his lips drawing the large nipples into the warmth of his mouth, suckling. He nibbled, bit, and suckled more.

  Her sounds, soft cries, came with her hands grasping his hair, and then sliding down so her nails bit into his shoulders. The sensation flooded warmth to her belly, contracting between her thighs. She arched more, giving him more.

  Kane lifted his head and kissed her again, before going to his knees, his hands touching her, molding, while he kissed her ribs and belly.

  She surprised herself when he peeled her panties off, by helping him. Sage was trembling, nervous, but eager—so turned on. She could hear her uneven pants of air and as he felt her legs, kissed her thighs, she arched her head back, closing her eyes, biting her lip the moment he coaxed them apart. His fingers eased across the slick folds of her sex several times before he parted them and his tongue swiped over her clit.

  Sage whimpered then sobbed his name.

  One finger eased into her and he was sucking, licking her clit.

  “Kane…” She moved her hips to feel the exquisite pleasure of it. So long, so long, Sage thought, afire with hungry need. The burning pleasure was so exquisite. He sucked hard then and a climax exploded inside her, shuddering over her in a pleasure pain that had her gasping and moaning.

  Kane straightened, kissing her stomach and nipples before finding her mouth, moaning in it.

  Her hands were touching him, feeling him, delving into the back of his jeans, to the tops of his hard ass. Erotically infused from the taste of herself in his mouth.

  Kane eased up and uttered roughly against her lips, “I want you. I want you, Sage.”

  “Yes.”

  Kane unlatched his trousers and took them off. Then he was against her hot, hard in flesh, hungry in his kisses. He couldn’t get to her, as he needed.

  He’d turned her—the tiled table being the only surface aside from the porch floor. However, Sage didn’t care when he cleared it, and laid her there. On one knee when he entered her, he filled her-completely.

  Lifting her legs by the back of her thighs, Kane drove in, quick, hard strokes. She kissed, touched, bit him, breathing as hard and heavy as he did, murmuring his name in a mindless kind of fever.

  He was talking, breathing against her skin, against her lips at times, but it was sheer starvation and need, sizzling desperation, damp bodies and sex stroking sex. Soft silk and slick, hard velvet stroking—tender nerves receptive and hungry inner muscles contracting against him. He came just as she was grinding her hips close to him, gasping. Kane rumbled her name as his frame shook from the release.

  The gutters poured water. And the sound of rain pervaded while he kissed her softer, longer, eventually easing away and then helping her up.

  He gathered their clothing and gathered her against him as they went inside.

  “I’ll put these in the dryer,” he said in the foyer.

  She went to the downstairs bath and washed, and toweled her hair. Though her face was make-up free, her eyes glowed, her skin was flushed. Wrapped in towel, her hair loose, Sage padded into the great room. He’d turned down all the lights but one, and turned the CD off.

  Kane entered wearing low-slung cut offs, his hair dried and finger combed.

  “Want a fire?” He handed her the silk robe from her room.

  “I’m fine. You?”

  “Great.” He grinned sexily watching her drop the towel and pull on the robe.

  “Coffee?”

  “Yeah.”

  He held a hand to her, they went in the shadowy kitchen, Kane making it, she watching him, eyes moving over him—a bit mind blown that they had just made love.

  While it brewed, he turned and drew her in the circle of his arms. Her hands slid around his waist.

  His chin rested on her head. In low, hushed tones, he said, “I didn’t use a condom.”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  He leaned back and caught her gaze, his lashes lazy, but ultra-sexy.

  Sage whispered roughly, “What?”

  “Tonight, all night?”

  “Yes.”

  Kane touched his mouth to hers, kissing her supple, light, over and over, until they parted to fill their cups.

  “You want to go to my room?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Go on up. I’ll make sure everything is locked up, and there’s no evidence of our debauchery around, for the kid to find.”

  Laughing, she headed upstairs. “My purse—”

  “Got it.”
>
  She made a pit stop to her room and brushed her teeth, put on lotion, and light perfume, then clipped her damp hair up. Grabbing a sport bra and slinky shorts—just in case she needed them.

  In his room, she opened the big windows. The storm was dying, but the air was sweet wafting in. Seated on the arm of the chair when he came up, she’d heard him go into her room to put her purse away.

  Kane arrived, and closed the door behind him, the lamp light flattering his masculine face and bronzed muscle as he walked to the bed a few feet from her. Pulling the pillows from under the cover, he stacked them and sat against the headboard, one knee bent, sipping his coffee but looking at her.

  “You’ve been with a lot of women?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I had a thing, with two of them. Quick fucks.”

  She flushed and took a drink of coffee, ignoring his chuckle as she swallowed.

  Looking at the window, she murmured, “I never wanted Sasha. He knew it. I tried to. But… it was not good.” She glanced at him. “He wasn’t—you.”

  “Sage.”

  She shook her head again, but got up; setting the cup down before, she lowered herself to sit beside his hip, facing him. Her hand lifted, fingers touching his hair, his rugged jaw, those sensual, sexy lips. “He didn’t really want me either. He was metro sexual, sleek, pampered. I’d had you, all earthy and touching me like you wanted me. He didn’t like my body.”

  “Dumb fuck.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, well, you’re an exception to most men in a lot of ways. But the big tits aside, most men like women who wear single digits.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “With stretch marks.”

  “Love every one of them.” His hand lifted to touch her breast through the robe.

  “I was ignorant, you know? When we did it. But I wanted you so much, I wasn’t scared or nervous.”

  “I was.”

  She laughed with him. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “I was, Sage.” God, you were—” He shook his head. “Sweet and sexy. Just like a while ago.”