by Pamela Clare
“Is that better?”
“Oh, that’s so much better.”
# # #
Janet stared at Jack’s body, felt a flutter deep in her belly, desire for him turning to liquid between her thighs. The man might be sixty-three, but he was ripped. His broad chest was sprinkled with salt-and-pepper curls, his shoulders, arms, chest, abdomen, and thighs all lean muscle, his cock jutting upward, thick and hard.
Oh, she wanted him.
A year ago, it would have been so simple. But now…
She reached for him, and he came to her, stretching out beside her, his gaze sliding over her, his hand caressing her from her breasts to her belly, his touch so very arousing. “Tell me if anything I do hurts.”
“Just don’t stop unless I say stop.”
“Deal.” He moved his body closer and parted her thighs, lifting her right leg so that it draped over his hip, opening her to his touch. “I need a little room here so I can get to know you.”
His words sent anticipation shivering through her, his erection pressing hot and insistent against her right hip, his fingers tracing circles over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Then he lowered his mouth to her breasts and began to suckle her again.
It was such sweet torture, every tug of his lips, every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth sending sparks into her belly until she wanted to scream.
“Jack, you’re killing me.”
“Am I?” He sounded amused, his voice deep.
Then the hand that had been tickling her inner thighs moved to cup her. The pressure felt so good, his fingers parting her labia to explore her, teasing her and playing with her before finally settling on her clitoris, flicking, stroking, and … Oh!
“Just … like … that.”
The man knew what he was doing. She’d give him that. The combined sensations of his mouth and busy fingers were almost more than she could take, her body aching to be filled, the fire he’d built inside her begging to be quenched.
Somehow she managed to speak. “I want you … inside.”
“Yeah?” He shifted his hand, one of his fingers making slick circles around the entrance to her vagina. “You are so wet. I can’t wait to taste you here.”
His words made her pulse skip.
Then, slowly, so slowly, he slid a finger, then two, inside her. There was no pain, only pleasure as he answered her yearning with slow, slick strokes. The fears Janet had carried for so long began to unravel as her body took over, Jack’s skilled touch driving her toward the edge.
He shifted from one nipple to the other, whispering against her burning skin on the way, the vibrations of his voice seeming to pass through her. “I want to feel you come. Come around my fingers.”
His words were like an aphrodisiac. Not that she needed one. She was already drunk on sex, her body hovering on the shimmering brink of an orgasm. It seemed like an eternity since she’d felt like this, so strung out… wanting him… wanting…
She came with a cry, climax surging through her in a rush of bliss, his fingers drawing out her pleasure until she lay weak and panting. She opened her eyes, found him watching her, a smile on his handsome face.
“Welcome back, angel.”
“Jack.” She reached up, caressed his cheek. “You’re incredible.”
He nuzzled her ear, a tender gesture that made her belly flutter. “The pleasure was mine, believe me.”
Then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, a slow, sweet kiss. And the fire he’d just extinguished flared to life again.
She reached down, took his cock in her hand, stroked the hard length of him, felt the muscles of his belly contract. “I want you inside me.”
He twisted and reached for something—a box of condoms.
“You don’t have to do that. Menopause hits the women in my family early. I haven’t had a period in ten months. I mean… at my age? It’s not going to happen.”
“If you’re sure.”
She smiled, gave his cock a gentle tug, spread her legs. “Come here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He settled himself between her thighs, lifting her left leg carefully, opening her legs wider. “How does that feel?”
A tinge of pain shot through her thigh, making her wince.
“Maybe put this beneath it.” She reached for a pillow.
He did as she’d suggested, tucking the pillow beneath the bend of her knee. “How’s that?”
“Good.” She stroked him, savored the feel of his erection in her hand.
He let her play, his muscles tense as he held himself still above her, his blue eyes dark, the intensity in his gaze making her breath catch.
She guided him to her vagina, let him take it from there.
“Tell me if it hurts.” He nudged himself inch by inch into her. “When they said you’d be tight … they meant it. Jesus.”
It felt wonderful—until…
A muscle spasm made her gasp, the pain sharp like a charley horse deep inside her. “Stop!”
Jack withdrew.
She closed her eyes, her heart sinking as the pain ebbed.
He kissed her cheek. “We don’t have to do this. There are a lot of ways we can enjoy each other that don’t involve my being inside you.”
But she didn’t want to surrender this part of her sexuality to a bullet. “Please. I don’t want to give this up. Can we try again?”
“I don’t want to cause you pain. It hurts me to see you hurt.”
“Maybe if you don’t go deep… ”
“Relax, honey.” He slid a finger inside her, caressed her.
She closed her eyes, willed her pelvic floor muscles to relax.
“That’s better.”
She grew aroused again, his persistent motions like an internal massage—a very erotic and stimulating massage.
He withdrew his finger, caught her right leg behind her knee, brought it up toward her shoulder, opening her more fully. “Just relax.”
He nudged the head of his cock inside her, then withdrew. Again and again he entered her, going a little deeper each time before withdrawing. Where there had been pain, there was now only pleasure.
“Oh, Jack, don’t… stop.”
# # #
Jack kept the rhythm slow and easy, sliding in and out of her heat. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her, his lips hungry for her mouth, her cheeks, her throat, her breasts. He was lost in her—the hot, tight feel of her, the musky scent of her arousal, the taste of her skin.
He wanted to last, wanted to make her come again, but it had been so long, so damned long. She felt like heaven, so perfect. He willed himself to slow down, to focus on her and not the sensation of being inside her, shifting to ride her higher, the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen little clit with each thrust.
She gave a little gasp, her nails digging into his back, her inner muscles drawing tighter. “Oh, that feels … so … good.”
It sure as hell did.
God, he’d missed sex. He’d missed intimacy. He’d missed touching and holding a woman. He’d missed all the sweet, feminine things a woman brought to a man’s life. He’d missed having someone special who was only his to care about.
And he did care about her. God help him, but in the span of just a few days, she’d come to mean the world to him.
Her eyes were closed now, her lips parted, her nails biting into his back, her breathing erratic, every exhalation a little moan.
He felt his balls draw tight, the first glimmer of orgasm uncoiling in his belly, the snug, slick friction driving him to the brink. He fought to relax, to hold on just a little longer, wanting to give her all the sexual pleasure he could. Then he felt the tension inside her peak and shatter.
Her breath broke, and she cried out his name, her back arching as she came, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Jack!”
He rode through it, kept his rhythm steady, her muscles clenching around him, drawing him over the edge. Orgasm rushed through him in a surge of blinding
pleasure, searing him to his soul, his body shaking as he spilled himself inside her.
He gave himself a moment to catch his breath, kissing the tears from her cheeks, knowing without her needing to tell him why she was crying. She’d been afraid she’d lost this part of herself, but the two of them had proved that wrong.
Aware that he was still on top of her, he began to move.
She tightened her arms around him. “No. Not yet.”
“I’m not too heavy?” He outweighed her by at least sixty pounds.
She smiled a sleepy smile, her eyes closed. “Not at all.”
He rested his head against her breast, closed his eyes, listened to the soft thrum of her heartbeat, awash in soul-deep contentment. When he’d been a younger man, he’d thought the notion of a man and woman becoming one flesh was nothing more than words—fine, poetic words, to be true, but just words. It had taken him years to understand how his sexual bond with Theresa had changed him.
Now, lying in Janet’s arms, he felt changed again—lighter, more alive, bound to her well-being and happiness as if it were his own.
His penis went soft and began to slide from her body.
She whimpered in protest. “No!”
Chuckling, he rolled onto his back and drew her into his arms, resting her head on his chest. “Don’t worry, angel. There’s more where that came from.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Janet awoke to the delicious sensation of Jack’s callused hand sliding over the bare skin of her ass.
“Good morning, angel.” His voice was deep and sleepy. He nuzzled her ear, his hand squeezing her buttock then delving between her thighs from behind.
“Good morning.” It felt wonderful—his fingers teasing her, sliding inside her, his erection pressing hard and hot against her.
He reached around to cup her breast, tugging her nipple to a tender point, the contact sending sparks of heat deep into her belly, making her inner muscles clench.
“Shouldn’t you be up at the high pasture?” It was hard to think.
“I’m taking a day off.”
“Good.” She burned for him already. “Fuck me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nudged himself into her, thrusting slowly until he was deep inside her, his testicles brushing against her buttocks, the rhythmic penetration of his cock driving her straight toward orgasm.
“Jack.” She whispered his name, tried to reach for him, wanting to touch him. But in this position, with him behind her, almost on top of her, she could do nothing.
“Just lie there and enjoy.”
If he’d been another man, his words might have been a meaningless boast. Oh, but he knew his way around a woman’s body. He picked up the pace, forsaking her breast to reach beneath her and play with her clit. She fisted her hand in the sheet, the sensations he caused both unbearable and sweet.
Faster. Harder. He felt so good inside her, like steel in velvet, thick and hard.
Her hands bunched into fists, crumpled the sheet, beat against her pillow.
“God, woman, you feel so good.”
She found herself arcing her lower back, trying to get more of him, her body teetering on the edge of bliss. And then it hit her, orgasm washing over her like a sunrise, scorching and bright. She bit her pillow, cried out, awash in pleasure as he maintained the rhythm, driving her climax home. Then he shuddered and moaned out her name, his breath hot against her nape as he came inside her.
For a moment, they lay there, both of them breathing hard.
“I wish I could wake up like this every day.”
“You could.” He ran his fingertips in lazy lines over the curve of her hip.
She smiled, remembering that he’d offered her a job. “Is that an employee benefit here at the ranch?”
He chuckled. “Not for most of the staff. Good God, now you’ve planted an image of Chuck in my head that I’m going to need a century to recover from.”
She laughed, rolled over, wrapped her arms around his neck. “Your men will say I slept my way to the top.”
“Jealous bitches.” He kissed her nose. “Don’t listen to them.”
She laughed again, her heart feeling wide open, her soul alive, her blood like warm honey. “I adore you, Jack West.”
“Well, that’s a start.” There was a teasing gleam in his blue eyes, but something in his voice told her there was more behind his words than he was letting show.
Was he in love with her?
The thought stunned her, sent her heart soaring.
Was she in love with him? How could she be? She’d only known him for a few short days—if you didn’t count the past nine months she’d spent loathing him.
“I took the liberty of moving your things from the guest room to my bedroom while you were sleeping. I hope that’s okay with you.”
It was better than okay.
“Thank you. Now I don’t have to figure out how to sneak my way in—you know, leaving my things in your bathroom bit by bit.”
“You never have to sneak, Janet. Ask for what you want. Say what’s on your mind. Be honest with me, and I’ll always be honest with you.”
What he was describing was the deepest form of intimacy.
She felt a hitch in her chest, touched by his openness. “You dear, sweet man.”
“You take a shower, do whatever you do in the morning. I’ll make us some breakfast.”
“Won’t you take a shower with me?”
He grinned. “I’d be happy to be your rubber duckie.”
The master bathroom was a bigger, more beautiful version of the guest bathroom. It was easily the size of her living room, with an enormous sunken tub, a wide shower with multiple shower heads, his and her sinks, and radiant heat. An upholstered chaise sat at one end beside a corner table that held candles and magazines. Windows ran along the top of the wall, bringing daylight while allowing privacy.
“This is beautiful.”
They stepped into the shower together. Jack massaged shampoo into her hair, rubbed soap over her breasts and between her thighs, then rinsed it all away, his touch and the hot water both soothing and erotic, her body still singing from their lovemaking. When she was squeaky clean, she returned the favor, even spreading shaving cream on his face so that he could shave.
Neither of them spoke. There seemed to be no need for words, a touch, a smile, a glance more than enough, their moans of pleasure and laughter mingling with the music of the water.
# # #
Jack made eggs Benedict and mimosas for breakfast with a little help from Janet. He showed her how to use the juicer to make orange juice, then made the Hollandaise himself. Fresh strawberries rounded out the meal, the two of them picking berries from the bowl and feeding each other by hand.
He felt like he was walking on air, almost unable to believe that this wonderful, beautiful woman was here with him, sharing this meal, his day, his bed.
You fell head first this time, amigo.
A voice inside him reminded him that they hadn’t yet made each other a single promise and that there was every chance Janet would decide to walk out the door and never come back. She was eighteen years younger than he was, only nine years older than his son. What could she possibly see in him?
He told that voice to go to hell.
She cared for him, too. He knew it. She seemed to be as lost in the moment as he, smiling and laughing with an ease that hadn’t been a part of her when she’d first arrived, exhausted and chilled to the bone. Her body responded to his touch as if she’d been made for him, which meant her heart and mind were in the game, too. Most of all, she’d trusted him with her worst fears. He’d lived long enough to know that a woman didn’t do that with just any man.
They’d just cleared the dishes away when Sheriff Rove called.
“How are things, Mr. West?”
“All is well. Chinook is healing, and so is Luke.”
Chuck said the kid was still bragging to anyone who would listen how he’d saved the stallio
n and frightened Kip away. It was starting to get on the men’s nerves.
“I wanted to let you know Kip Henderson had his arraignment this morning. The district attorney threw the book at him—attempted first-degree murder, assault with intent to kill, assault with a deadly weapon, animal cruelty, destruction of property. There are a few more charges. I can’t remember them all. If they convict him, he won’t be seeing the outside of a prison cell anytime soon.”
Jack had already heard this from the DA’s office, but hearing it again, he found it sad to think that Kip had come to this end. “What a shame.”
Rove went on. “You don’t have to worry about him making bond. The judge set bail at five hundred grand.”
Kip didn’t have the collateral for that. He didn’t even have a pot to piss in.
“Do you have the ballistics results back yet?”
“That could take months. Sometimes CBI takes a year to get results back to us.”
“A year? That’s ridiculous.”
Janet shook her head, whispered, “Tell him to send them to the FBI. I’ll file the paperwork and put in the request.”
Jack nodded. “How about sending them to the FBI? Ms. Killeen is willing to do the paperwork and—”
“I don’t see the point in troubling anyone or putting CBI’s nose out of joint by turning to the feds. We have the guilty party in our jail. The man had motive, opportunity, and the ability to carry out the crime. We have an eyewitness. I’m not sure we even need the ballistics evidence to force a plea deal here.”
Jack looked to Janet, shook his head. “Has Kip admitted to any of it?”
“No, he still says he didn’t do it, but then if you ask around, you’ll learn that no one in my jail is guilty.”
Jack supposed that was true enough. “Has anyone notified his kin? Does he have any money in his commissary account?”
If he didn’t, Jack would transfer some to him via his attorney. Now that the man was no longer a threat, Jack felt kind of sorry for him.