by Inez Kelley
She wanted to get drunk on Jonah Alcott.
His hand crept up her spine, molding her to him until not a whisper of mountain air could fit between them. Jonah didn’t give her time to think, time to question if this was a smart move. All she could do was feel. Feel his lips plucking at hers, his arms wrapped around her, his heat surrounding her.
The high sun had baked into his shirt, nearly scorching her hands gliding along his shoulders. Hard muscles shifted as she stroked down his arms then up his chest. Beneath her fingers, his heart pounded, echoing hers. Thick cords in his neck guided her hands back up into his hair. It was so soft, so warm from the sun, it feathered through her fingers like velvet.
Common sense forced her to tear her lips from his. “Wait, this is a stupid move.”
“Whatever this is, Zury, it’s not stupid. It’s good. Don’t let our jobs ruin this.”
His mouth taking hers again blanked her mind. They fit so perfectly against each other, meshed in fundamentally physical ways. Her nipples peaked, aching to feel his caress of his hands, his mouth. The cotton of her shirt melted away as his fingers stroked her back, taunting her with their closeness to her skin.
But it was more than just physical. It had been so long since any man had stirred her interest, and Jonah did it in spades. When he wasn’t spouting his tree-killing spiel, he engaged her mind, appealed to her sense of humor, made her think in different ways. Last night on the little couch was the best “date” she’d ever had.
Her body ached to forget all the negatives and simply bask in his touch. Would it be so wrong to grab on to a little carnal pleasure? So tempting. It was so tempting to think they could ignore the problems between them and just delight in the sizzling attraction. But it was a fruitless wish. Her job, and his, were more than mere paychecks for time served. They were extensions of who they each were. Complete and total opposites.
An ache bloomed in her chest. It took all of her willpower to pull away from his kiss.
“It’s getting late. We need to get back to the cabin and pack up.”
Seven steps away from him, her back bristled when he called. “This isn’t over, Zury.”
Coming down the rocky slope from the Falls side made the cabin roof seem to sprout from the countryside like a mushroom. Since the pathway was steeper, Jonah trailed behind her silently but she could feel his eyes every step. The three-mile trek seemed a hundred times longer. Sweat dried along her hairline and neck, leaving a dusty film, and her thighs ached from the hike, but she never slowed.
It took precious little time to gather their things from the cabin. She was hauling the last sack of unused groceries outside when strong hands curled around her, spun her around and pressed her to the cabin wall. Rough log edges dug into her back and shoulders but she felt nothing but the searing brand of his mouth on hers.
As if desperation were fuel, Jonah kissed at full throttle, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and stealing her breath. The plastic bag crashed to the small porch, loose potatoes and a box of cookies spilling out. Damn her fingers. They were traitors, circling his neck and holding him close.
His hands spanned her waist then slid down, cupping her ass and lifting her. Pinned between the cabin’s outer wall and his frame, she felt every hard knot and line of both. Her knees parted of their own volition, welcoming him into the intimate curve of her body. Her thighs gripped his hips as his hands smoothed under her shirt.
It was over ninety degrees in the sun but his hands were far hotter as they skimmed over her stomach, up her rib cage, over the cups of her bra to palm one aching mound. A nip to her neck caused her to gasp his name, to draw his scent mingled with summer wind into her lungs. He licked under her jaw and dragged his mouth along her skin to her ear. “Tell me you want this.”
She wanted it. She wanted it so badly her heartbeat surged and the juncture between her thighs went hot and soft. It was wrong, complicated and potentially stupid, but she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted more, wanted skin on skin and him so deep he got lost inside her.
All intelligent thought evaporated as his fingers rolled her stiffened nipple through the cup of her bra. “More.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” A shudder worked up his spine and he took her mouth with a frantic strength. Long firm fingers dug into her ass as he rocked her hips into his, into the hardness behind his zipper. Pure feminine power filled her. She traced her short nails down his back, delighting in his low groan. Rolling her hips pressed her center against his growing erection, and his groan turned to a hungry growl. Her body flushed, softening and growing damp.
In one last grasp at control, she caught his hand, holding it still against her breast. “We shouldn’t.”
“Fuck shouldn’t. Tell me you don’t want me, want this. Tell me if I worked anywhere else you’d push me away.”
“Jonah—”
“You can’t.” He angled back just enough to look into her eyes. “We didn’t ask for this, but damn it, it’s happening. You’re beautiful and annoying and stubborn and sarcastic and I want to know what else. Fight me on the Canyon project but do not fight this.”
Those words bounced around her head like a drunken bumblebee through the drive back to his SUV, her trip home and a hot shower. Could she really separate the two parts of her personality like that? Could she fight with him in the boardroom and play with him in the bedroom? God she hoped so.
Chapter Six
One of the largest recorded hickory trees in West Virginia is near Grassy Meadows, Summers County. It’s 94 feet tall and measures 83 inches in circumference at breast height.
The monthly Heritage Conservation meeting drew Zury off the mountain and offered a convenient excuse to meet Jonah after work. She’d been dying of curiosity ever since he’d told her he lived beside a cemetery. Somehow she’d expected him to live in an apartment building or a sleek modern house, not a vine-draped stone cottage bordering a graveyard. His little house would have been picture perfect if it hadn’t had dead bodies fewer than thirty yards away.
“Rent’s cheap. People stay away at night so it’s quiet,” he’d said.
A shiver worked up her spine. She could never live this close to the dead and sleep peacefully. She needed to be among the living.
Tucking her skirt into her bag, she caught her reflection in Jonah’s bedroom mirror. No hint of unease lurked there. Instead, an excitement glimmered in her eyes and flushed her cheeks. Her skin carried a glow that went beyond a bit of sun. There was something more vibrant in her expression, something full of anticipation. She fluffed her short hair back into place as her heart raced.
Two casual dinner dates, one night of sweaty dancing at the lake, and then they’d had to stop cold turkey, forced apart by his job. He’d spent the better part of a full week in D.C. doing whatever he did with politicians and business tycoons. Although they’d spoken every day, several times in fact, she’d missed him.
Her lips tightened as she pondered that growing sense of contentment. Two weeks ago, she’d have claimed nothing in common with the front man of Hawkins Hardwood. Now, she knew differently. They meshed in more ways than one. Her breasts grew heavy, thinking of one way they hadn’t yet meshed. Her eyes flew to the reflection of his bed in the mirror.
Tamping down those thoughts, she flipped the light off and picked up her bag. She could leave it in his bedroom but that implied an intimacy they hadn’t reached yet, one she’d thought about since the first taste of his mouth. Being here now, in his home, with a spare change of clothes, tempted her to think about not returning to her house with the empty bed tonight. Tightening her grip on the leather handle, she carried the bag to the living room.
Jonah stood in the kitchen, cell pressed to his ear, deep in conversation that sounded work related so she simply let her eyes soak him in. He’d shed the suit jacket and loosened his tie but his vest wa
s still buttoned, hugging his chest. His sleeves were rolled haphazardly, exposing his corded forearms. Her mouth grew dry. What was this weird fetish she had with his forearms? The small dark hairs all but begged her to stroke him.
She forced her eyes away, focusing on his vest. The deep gray pinstripes lightened his eyes to baby blue but hid the hard-cut definition of his muscles, giving him an elegance that took her breath. He’d paired the suit with a vibrant shirt the color of a mountain sunset. His tie boasted swirls of orange and gray and had been jerked askew.
His conversation seemed to be winding down so she dropped her bag on the suede couch and crossed to him. A lazy smile raised his lip when he saw her, his gaze skimming over her faded jeans and red sleeveless button-down. Interest sparked and his pupils dilated. It was a lit match to paper. Heat exploded inside her.
“Is that all you needed?”
He’d spoken into the phone but his attention was firmly locked on her as she strolled toward him, swinging her hips with a deliberate rhythm. He froze, standing perfectly still as she worked the knot out of his tie. The silk whispered against his shirt as she tugged it free, looping it around her own neck. His chest rose more quickly, his warm breath feathering over her brow as she started slipping open the buttons of his vest. Tongue touching her lip, she raised her chin to look into his eyes. Another button slid free.
Whoever was on the other end of the phone call droned on while Jonah watched her. The last button gave way and his nostrils flared. Zury stepped closer, smoothing her palms around his waist, delving under the vest. The muscles in his torso were hard but so tempting.
“Chuck, just send me the file. I’ll go over it tomorrow.”
Despite his prompting, the caller kept talking. Zury ran her hands up his chest, pushing the vest open. He’d undone the top button of his shirt but she loosened three more. His Adam’s apple jumped with his swallow as she let her fingers trace over his throat and down to the crisp hair exposed on his chest. She went to her toes and pressed an open-mouth kiss just below his jaw.
The flavor of his skin burst onto her tongue as she licked. The unique scent of him filled her nose and she nuzzled, drawing in more of that heady fragrance. Recognition clicked. Summer wind, he smelled of summer wind racing through the trees. It was so erotic, she let the tip of her nose circle just below his ear. A soft growl rumbled in his chest.
“Chuck, gotta go.”
The phone clattered on the counter and his lips were on hers. Days, it had been days since she’d tasted his kiss, and she wanted to gorge on it now. Large firm hands cradled her face, tipping her head back so he could dip his tongue deeper into her mouth. She pressed closer, skating her palms up his chest, intent on circling his neck but he caught her hands and brought them to the remaining shirt buttons.
“You started something. Finish it.”
Pulse tripping in her throat, Zury lifted her head and opened her eyes. Undenied lust hooded his transfixed gaze. She pushed another flat button through the slot. Neither of them blinked as she unfastened them down to his pants button. A challenge simmered unspoken on his face, daring her to go further.
Gripping the sides of his shirt, she tugged, pulling the shirttails loose from his pants. It revealed two more buttons that fell open under her fingers. She peeled the fabric back to expose a taut stomach and a thin line of dark hair trickling downward. His skin was warm, like supple suede beneath her hands, and she stroked each inch she’d uncovered. Solid heat smoothed under her touch as she explored him, running her fingers through the sparse hair centered on his chest, around the flat nipples that peaked under her fingers, the cut lines of his pecs and abdomen. She licked out, tasting the straight line of his collarbone.
Beneath the broadcloth, she found the real man, the man she’d discovered in the cabin, all rigid muscle and harnessed passion. His chest hair prickled her cheek and nose but she couldn’t stop from nuzzling just above his solar plexus. Strong hands curled around her shoulders, pulling her closer, inviting more touch, more taste. Her nipples hardened and her breasts grew achy. An emptiness pulsed between her legs.
Air-conditioning hummed and cool air swirled around them but his skin burned her, enflamed her. Her lips landed above the beat of his heart as her hands glided around his waist. He held his breath as her fingers trekked up his back. A hiss seeped from his lips as she teased his shoulder blades with a light scrape of short nails.
Jonah’s head fell back even as his hands caressed her. His right hand stroked down her arm, tugging it loose from his back and bringing her hand back to the firm planes of his stomach. He dragged her fingers down his body. He skimmed his navel with her fingertips, moving them lower, until they brushed the button of his pants.
Excitement fought with caution in her chest, knotting in her throat. He wanted her to keep going, to take them to a new level with one move. Her thighs quivered and her stomach jumped. Under the pants, he was hard, his erection straining at the fabric and pressing into her abdomen. Desire teased her, tempted her, urged her to pop open that button and slide down that zipper, to fill her hands with his hard length.
Biting back a sigh, she tugged her fingers from his and wrapped her arms around his waist. Too soon. Too fast. Squeezing her eyes shut, she buried her face in the curve of his neck, taking in more of his summer scent.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Jonah exhaled and rested his cheek on her crown, enfolding her in his arms and holding her close. “I can wait until we’re both ready. For now, just let me hold you.”
They stood in silence, holding each other while the desire that had nearly exploded calmed to a slow simmer. Wrapped in his arms, with his heart thudding under her cheek, Zury let her gaze settle outside the window. There were no curtains, giving an unimpeded view of the manicured lawn dotted with headstones, monuments and weathered statues.
“Don’t you get freaked out living here? I’d never sleep, jumping at every noise.”
“The dead don’t talk, darlin’. I don’t bother them, they don’t bother me.” He ran his hands down her arms and laced his fingers with hers, tugging her toward his bedroom. “Since I’m half-undressed, I should get changed. Come on.”
He pulled her back into the bedroom and that whisper of desire grew louder. Mentally shushing it, she focused on her surroundings. His house was small, only four rooms, and obviously built before the turn of the last century, but it had been upgraded. New enlarged windows made the space cheery and bright and he had minimal clutter. One corner of the living room had been portioned off and repurposed as an office area. Bookshelves reached to the ceiling and his camera rested on a scarred wooden desk.
The living area led straight into his bedroom. He motioned for her to sit as he toed off his shoes and lined them on a shelf in his closet. His bed was unmade, pale green sheets tangled with a matching comforter. They smelled of him and she sank into them, resisting the juvenile urge to press her face into his pillows.
His shirt wrinkled in his hands as he gripped the loose edges, his eyes locked on her. “Do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Lie back, arch your spine and look straight at me.” Confused, she did as he asked. The move thrust her breasts out and they strained at her top, gaping the tiny buttons. He sucked in a noisy breath. “There, that’s what I want to picture later. You, in my bed, minus the clothes.”
Heat burst on her face and her skin tingled. Tucking her bottom lip under her teeth, she pointed her bare toes, and arched harder, letting her head fall back. A small whimper leaked from her lips, teasing him as she added depth to his requested fantasy. Her hand touched her chin then slowly trekked down over her throat, past her collarbone, between her breasts to her stomach and headed further south.
“Jesus, Zury, you’re going kill me.” His ragged breath was music.
The smile she sent him tasted like seductio
n. “Not until you feed me.”
“Food. Yeah. Food.” He shook his head wildly then opened the closet door. “Sit up before I forget dinner and head straight for dessert.”
Tipsy with her power, she giggled. “It’s a bit early for dinner or dessert. Where’re we going?”
“Candlewick Manor.” He pulled a pair of jeans off a hanger and tossed them beside her on the bed. “I’m slightly addicted to the Black and Bleu Sirloin.”
“You are such a carnivore.”
“I don’t do green things.” He made a shuddering noise then turned back to the closet. “Vegetables and stuff can kill you. Have you ever met a hundred-year-old rabbit?”
“I don’t card many bunnies, sorry,” she teased, scooting against his headboard and fingering the tie still around her neck. Jonah rifled through shirts. His closet was exactly like him. Everything was precise and orderly, nothing jammed into the corners, but it was neatly divided into two sections. The left side held his business suits, dress casuals such as khakis and company polos while the right contained jeans, flannels and rugby shirts. At the bottom, even his shoes had specific places, wingtips, oxfords and dress boots lined in straight rows on the left. On the other side, tennis shoes, hiking boots and a pair of well-worn cowboy boots. His ties hung on a rack in the center, a rainbow of silk strips acting as a divider.
A shrug worked his shoulders as he peeled off and tossed the orange shirt and vest onto an empty chair by the window. In his suits, he was classically chic. Dressed down, he was mouthwatering. Half-naked, he was fantasy fuel.
One plastic hanger swung as he jerked a blue button-down shirt off and thrust an arm into it. She greedily watched as he fastened the buttons, the broad expanse of his chest disappearing one inch at a time. He rolled the sleeves, exposing his forearms, and her mouth grew dry.
An omission leaped out at her. His dress shirts ranged from the palest yellow to a brazen red but there wasn’t a single white shirt to be seen. The lack of such a basic foundation piece piqued her curiosity but before she could ask, Jonah said, “Candlewick’s near Kayla’s place. It was harvested last year. I thought we’d take a walk before dinner, check things out.” A pair of white athletic socks clutched in his hand, he leaned over and tugged his thin gray ones off.