by Laura Drewry
She twisted her foot slightly until it rested on top of his, and he groaned.
“Are you okay?” Lucy whispered. “Are you comfortable?”
“No,” he grunted.
“D’you want me to move?”
“No!” He hissed out a breath against her hair. “For God’s sake, just be still.”
“Sorry.”
Jed closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything else; the straw poking into his ears, the way the blanket scratched his skin, anything. Nothing worked.
“Jed?” Lucy whispered. “Can I ask you something?”
“Mm-hmm. As long as it doesn’t involve movement.”
“It’s not very ladylike.”
He snorted softly and tightened his arms around her belly. “D’you really think that matters at this point?”
“Right. Well, um. . .” She rested her hands on top of his, then moved her fingers in circles over his skin. “Is it always. . .um, that hard?”
Jed choked out a laugh. “Only since you came along, sweetheart.”
He waited for her to say something else – to make a joke at his painful expense, but she didn’t. Instead, she twined her fingers through his and squeezed gently.
His heart swelled until he thought it’d burst from his chest. She’d never hinted at it before, but that one touch sparked what he’d been afraid to hope until now.
Maybe Lucy could grow to love him. And maybe – just maybe – she was already beginning to.
Jed tucked her head under his chin and sighed. One small touch made his night of agony all worth it.
o0o
Lucy lay as still as she could, eyes closed, forcing her breathing to go in and out in a steady rhythm. Maybe if Jed thought she was asleep, he’d sleep, too. The last thing she wanted – or needed – was for him to see her cry again.
As soon as he’d wrapped his arms around her, the all-too-familiar sensation began prickling her eyes and every passing second with her wrapped in his arms made it worse.
She wasn’t supposed to cry over a human, especially one who’d made her work as hard as Jed had. She wasn’t supposed to want to be there; to be lying in a smelly old pathetic excuse for a barn and thinking there couldn’t possibly be a better place.
How would she live without him? And why would she want to? Life without him would be Hell itself.
No, it would be worse. Much, much worse.
Her whole life she’d been told she’d never feel anything but hate, loathing and shame. And that’s all she’d ever felt for anyone – human or otherwise.
Until Jedidiah Caine walked into her life.
What she felt for him was too confusing to sort out. While she was supposed to hate him and his practical ideas, she found herself understanding and agreeing with them. When she was supposed to loathe him for making her work, she found herself wanting to work harder just to have him smile and wink at her with that look that made her stand taller.
And when she was supposed to shame him for not giving her everything she wanted the very moment she wanted it, she had learned to. . .respect. . .him for not doing just that.
If she respected him, was it possible that she might actually –
No. She was the devil’s daughter. She wasn’t capable of such feelings, was she?
According to her father, no. According to her mother. . .
Lucy opened her eyes and stared down at Jed’s arms wrapped around her, sharing his warmth with her. It didn’t feel hateful. And there was no shame, either. It just felt right. It felt. . .good.
Her pulse quickened, her breath came in short gasps. Her father had drilled into her that no child of his could ever be loved, and no child of his could ever feel anything but hate for anyone else.
But he’d also told her he wouldn’t interfere in her plans.
Angry tears coursed down her cheeks in blazing hot streaks. Of course Satan lied to her – it’s all he ever did. How could she have been so stupid?
Simple, stupid Lucy.
And that’s why he’d sent Deacon. Not just to see her fail, but to step in if she ever realized the truth. Well, she realized it now.
This was love. This warmth, this pride, this need to protect Jed from her father and her brother. And herself.
She loved her husband. She loved his practical ways, the way he worked and the way he made her work. She loved his hands, his arms and especially his eyes. She could get lost in those eyes.
And what made it so much better was knowing he loved her, too. It wasn’t just lust he felt, though the evidence of that was still pressed against her.
He loved her.
Her. Lucille Firr, the devil’s daughter.
The pain of that sudden knowledge sent piercing spasms through her chest. She had to protect him somehow, had to find a way to shield him from Deacon. And she had to do it soon, before Maggie gave birth and Hell literally broke loose.
Her tears doubled, leaking out the corner of her eyes and falling to Jed’s shirt bunched beneath her head. There was, of course, only one way to save Jed. It didn’t matter how many tears she cried or how long she tried to come up with another plan, there was no other choice.
She had to go back.
If Jed ever discovered the truth about Lucy, he’d never forgive her. His soul would be darkened toward her forever. And if he let that hatred turn on himself – or anyone else – Deacon would surely win.
Lucy couldn’t let that happen. Now that she finally understood what she felt, and how deeply she felt it, there was no question – Jed’s happiness had to come before her own and to Hell with Deacon and anyone else who tried to stop her.
She’d lived in Hell, she knew what to expect. Jed had no idea.
Anger, frustration and fear swirled in her until she thought she’d be sick. So stupid. At least Deacon had been right about that.
But Jed didn’t think she was stupid. Even though she still couldn’t make coffee, or biscuits, or even wash a shirt properly. Jed loved her and she loved him. Nothing else mattered.
At least not out there in the barn.
Tomorrow, in the light of day, she’d find a way to save him from the horrors she’d brought with her.
But tonight she was going to stay in his arms, secure in the fact she could love. And she could be loved. If only she could tell him.
Of course she didn’t dare, and she had to keep him from uttering the words, too. It was the last thread keeping him safe. If he kept the words to himself, his soul would never fully be opened to her. But once he spoke them aloud, he’d be vulnerable to Deacon and any other devil spawn. It was the words themselves, spoken out loud to another, that humbled a human in the most defenseless way.
Humans risked everything by saying it out loud. And in that moment, a human’s soul was at its weakest, desperate for the other person’s love.
She could have let him say the words, could have finished all this days ago, but hadn’t. Her selfish need to be with him a few more moments, a few more days, and a few more nights had stopped her. And now it was too late.
She couldn’t go through with it.
Lucy forced her eyes shut, trying to dam the tears that refused to stop. Even so, they squeezed out and trickled down her face. She sniffled softly, not daring to move.
“You okay?” Jed’s voice, soft in her hair, made her jump. He hadn’t been asleep after all.
“Mm-hmm.” Damn her weakness. Even her mumble trembled.
“No, you’re not.” He leaned up on his elbow and stared down at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She sniffed over her forced smile and dashed the back of her hand across her eyes.
Jed eased her down until she lay flat on her back, looking up at him. He truly was a beautiful man. Everything about him made her love him more, from his tousled dark hair to those melting eyes he nearly consumed her with.
“Lucy.” Her name was a ragged breath from his lips. He hadn’t moved an inch; just leaned over her, watching, staring. “Wha
t is it?”
Damn these tears. She moved to wipe them again, but Jed caught her wrist and moved it down.
“Let me make it better,” he said, brushing his thumb against her tears.
“You c-can’t.” A sob caught in her throat. No one could make this better.
“How do you know?” He wiped her other cheek slowly, his eyes following his thumb’s slow movements.
She had to touch him. She shouldn’t. She’d asked him not to touch her, but she couldn’t stop herself. If she could put every inch of him to memory, maybe she could survive Hell again.
Her finger tips trembled against his chest, moving slowly, finding more strength with each passing second.
His breath hissed. “Lucy--”
“Shh.” She pressed her palms flat, moving over him with the barest of touches, pausing over his left breast to memorize his heart beat. “I just want to--”
“Oh God, don’t,” he pleaded. “Whatever it is, please don’t.”
“But it’s--” She slid her hands around his waist, then lower to his backside.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Lucy. I can’t. . .stand. . .this.”
Lucy reached to kiss his chin, his cheek, and his nose. As her mouth searched his out, found it and pulled another low guttural groan from him, she whispered softly.
“Touch me, Jed.”
She’d barely finished his name when he hauled her up against him, then rolled so she lay on top of him, the length of her body pressed against him.
She shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t give in to her need.
Just once and then she could go back.
Just once and she maybe then she could find the strength to live without him. She pushed the ridiculous thought from her head. Once would never be enough. She’d always want more.
But once was all she’d ever have, so she’d have to savor every moment.
Jed’s hands were everywhere; in her hair, on her back, her hips, and then her backside. A jolt of lightning shot through her, sending her mind reeling, her heart pounding and her hands searching.
Lucy sat up, her legs straddling his hips, his erection pushing against her, but Jed held still.
“Make me your wife,” she said, staring down into the depths of his dark eyes. She pressed her hands against his chest, loving the way the hair tickled her palms.
His own hands stilled on her hips. “Are you sure?” he rasped. “’Cuz once this starts. . .stopping. . .”
She leaned toward him and kissed him full on the mouth. “I won’t want you to stop.”
Before she could blink, Jed had flipped them so he now straddled her, his beautiful face hovering above hers, his smile promising things she couldn’t even imagine.
“God, but I l--”
She pressed her hand against his mouth. “Don’t tell me,” she whispered. “Show me.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Fire trailed behind Jed’s touch. He held her wrists at the sides of her head, then leaned down to kiss her, but not on the mouth.
He started beside her eyes and moved slowly over her face, coming close but never close enough to her waiting lips. She wiggled beneath his grasp, but he only smiled and tightened his grip.
“Jed, please,” she whimpered.
“Oh no, sweetheart.” He ran his tongue with featherlike softness, across her bottom lip. “You’re not getting off that easy. I’ve had a long time to think about what I want to do to you, and it’s going to take all night – maybe into the morning.”
He kissed all around her mouth, over her chin, then moved up to nibble her jaw.
She whimpered again; afraid he’d never kiss her, and yet afraid he would, thereby ending this exquisite torture.
When his mouth finally found hers, she couldn’t get enough. He teased her, tempted her and caressed her until she began to wiggle beneath him. She needed more than this. She needed him – all of him. It was as though she were on fire and only Jed could douse her flames.
“Hold on,” he murmured. “We haven’t even started yet.”
“I can’t” she gasped. “I. . .”
“Shh, just hold on.” He moved lower, kissing his way down her neck, over the hollow in her throat, and then over each collar bone. Lucy sucked in a breath. Surely he didn’t mean to. . .
He did. With great tenderness, he kissed his way over one breast, then the other. She arched toward him, needing more, always more. He smiled against her skin a second before his tongue darted out and flicked against her hardened nipple.
Lucy gasped sharply once, then again when he set to work on the other one. He released her wrists and cupped her breast in his warm palm.
She couldn’t have caught her breath if she tried.
“Please, Jed.” That couldn’t be her voice – it sounded too desperate, too weak.
“Hmm?” he murmured against her belly. He kissed her rib cage, then moved to the other side. Then lower.
“I – I oh my.”
He moved his hands down her body, over her hips and thighs.
Someone moaned, but she didn’t know who.
“Jed,” she pleaded.
“Shh.” His fingers inched up her leg, near to the ache that would not be sated. She had no idea what he planned, but if he didn’t do something quick, she’d surely die right there.
His fingers moved closer, closer, until they found it – the place that begged to be touched. He slid a finger inside, just enough to drive her toward the edge of sanity. She bucked against his touch, then cried out when he pulled back.
“No,” she moaned.
“More?” he whispered even as he slid his finger back inside. “More of that?”
“Yes,” she rasped. “More.”
He slid out again, then slid in two fingers. She arched again. More, would she ever get enough? Jed pushed into her deeper, his mouth pressing soft kisses against the inside of her thigh.
“I, oh, I. . .” Lucy arched again, pressing herself into his hand, toward his mouth. She could feel herself teetering on an edge she couldn’t even begin to describe. But the second Jed’s lips found her, she spiraled off that edge and crashed into a fire so deep, so hot, she was sure she’d died and gone to. . .heaven.
Jed pressed his hand against her gently, easing her through the fire.
“Let it go,” he murmured. “That’s it.”
Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding on for dear life – fearing she’d never make it back to him. But back she came as Jed slid back up her body, pressing himself against her, keeping them skin to skin.
“I. . .” Lucy swallowed a huge gulp of air, then pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. “That was. . .”
Jed grinned wickedly and kissed her again. “That was nothin’.”
He rained more kisses over her face and neck, nibbled her ear, then kissed her neck right below her earlobe. That deep ache started again, low in her belly.
No. She’d never survive another one. She couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
“Hold on,” he moaned in her ear.
“Again?” She wanted to whimper, but was already reaching for him, arching against his touch.
“Oh yeah,” he chuckled softly. “At least once more.”
He settled over her, his eyes fixed on her, his hands set on either side of her head, keeping his weight from crushing her.
He pushed against her once, then slipped just inside. Lucy lifted herself off the blanket – that couldn’t be it – she needed a helluva lot more than that.
Jed smiled, pulled out, then slid in again – a little farther. The vein on his forehead throbbed, his teeth ground together, but he never took his eyes away from hers.
“Jed,” she whispered, reaching to touch him. His body tensed as she trailed her fingers across his chest and down his belly. “Can I. . .”
“God yes.”
She slid her hand between them, and tentatively ran her fingers around him. A low growl started in his throat. Interesting. She closed her fin
gers around him and squeezed ever so gently, then moved her hand over the length of him, until his growl ripped free and he pushed all the way into her, then stilled, watching, waiting.
He was inside her, and it was better than heaven could possibly be.
Lucy couldn’t stand the stillness. She shifted beneath him, reached her arms around and pulled him closer. Her hips moved in small circles. She had to have more, had to find that cliff again.
Jed moved slowly. With long purposeful strokes, he slid in and out until Lucy was right back there, teetering, and crying out his name. He moved one hand beneath her backside and lifted, at the same time pushing into her until they’d become one.
Lucy gasped, crashed into the fire again, and gave in to whatever forces were coming to claim her. There was no way in Heaven or Hell a mortal could survive such a thing twice.
“Lucy,” Jed breathed out her name as his whole body went rigid. A second later, the arm supporting him gave out. Before he crushed her, he swept her up and rolled so she lay on top of him.
She settled tight against him, afraid he’d pull away. They lay that way for long minutes, Jed pulsing inside her, and Lucy counting his heart beats as they thundered beneath her ear.
He reached for the blanket and began to tuck it in around her.
“Jed?” she whispered against his chest.
“Hmm?”
“Leave the blanket. I’ve never been so hot in all my life.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Thank God, ‘cuz I’m about to burst into flames here.”
She couldn’t stop touching him. His chest had the most amazing feel to it, with its smooth skin, rough hair and tight nipples.
“Is it always like this?” she asked, then wished she hadn’t.
“I imagine it will be with you,” he whispered back, as his fingers drew circles over her back. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No.” She kissed the underside of his chin. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” His fingers stopped and before she could protest, he had her on her back again and was grinning down at her. “What we did here was more than just fine.”
She started to laugh, but he caught her mouth against his and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe.