“It’s mine from when I was a kid,” she said. “I didn’t want to take any stuff that Philip and I—” She stopped, swallowing visibly.
“Is that the asshole’s name?” he murmured.
She pulled the T-shirt over her head, affording him a maddeningly brief glimpse of her stunning breasts. They jiggled as she tugged the shirt down over herself. He wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg like a dog for just one more peek. Dignity, he reminded himself. Dignity was key.
Her face emerged from the shirt, eyes narrowed. “Look, Jacob, I don’t want to be rude, but I’d appreciate it if you’d get yourself together so I can fold my tent.”
He watched calmly as she struggled into her panties and jeans. Her pale face was slowly turning a rosy pink. He grabbed his clothes, admiring her round, enticing ass as she scrambled out of the tent, and followed her out, stark naked. He stretched luxuriously and scratched his chest. Let her take a good long look at him and face reality.
She turned around, and squeaked in alarm. “Holy God, put that thing away!” she hissed.
He gave her a lazy grin and popped his shoulder blades. “You liked it well enough last night, sweetheart.”
Just then, a portly matron in a pink jogging suit trotted down the path on her way to the bathroom. She looked over at them, gave a horrified squawk, and bolted back the way she came.
Annie’s face was deep crimson. “You’re going to get me arrested!”
Jacob gave her a “little ol me?” shrug, and looked down at his hugely erect cock as if noticing it for the first time. “Gee whiz, would you look at that. It’s a tribute to your beauty, Annie.”
“Put your pants on,” Annie said furiously. “And don’t you dare try to pull that Mr. Slick routine. That might work at night by the campfire, but not by the cold light of day.”
Jacob grimaced as he folded his hard-on to the side and zipped his jeans over it. Ouch. “What would work, Annie?” he asked plaintively.
She lit up her camp stove, ignoring his question. “Would you like some instant oatmeal?” she asked in a brisk, let’s-move-on sort of voice. “I’ve got maple sugar, country peach spice and regular.”
He snorted. “After last night? Like hell. Let’s get some real food.”
Her back stiffened visibly. “I’m thrifty,” she snapped.
“And I’m buying,” he countered. “Let’s go to that pancake place back on the highway. We’ll get ham and eggs and grits. Orange juice and coffee and a big, buttery stack of pancakes. What do you say?”
She shot him an uncertain glance over her shoulder, looking tempted. Then her mouth tightened. “I’ll stick to my oatmeal,” she said stiffly. “I don’t need any man to buy me breakfast.”
He grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him. “Hey, Annie. Hello. I’m not just ‘any man.’ I’m Jacob. Remember me? We met last night. Naked. In your tent. For hours. Does that ring a fucking bell?”
His voice came out harsher than he’d intended. She flinched away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This just… isn’t what I expected.”
He yanked on his sweatshirt. “What the hell were you expecting?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t even think about the next day. I thought that a one night stand was a… a no strings sort of thing.”
He squinted. “Strings? What strings?”
She shook her head helplessly.
Comprehension dawned, and outrage followed swiftly in its wake. “You mean, you weren’t expecting to have to deal with me in the morning? You thought I would just fuck you and then disappear?”
She looked miserably confused. “I don’t know. I didn’t think.”
He shook his head, incredulous. “I’ve been chasing you for eight hundred miles. You think I’ve scratched my itch, and now I’m done?”
“But I thought that’s how anonymous trysts with strange men were supposed to go!” she wailed. “According to the script you should’ve been gone before I even woke up. Just a… a bittersweet memory, like Zorro or something. Maybe a rose on my pillow, at most.”
Jacob rubbed his aching lower back with a grimace. “You don’t have any pillows, Annie,” he muttered.
She looked so distressed that he decided it was time to try to make her smile. “Let’s have a whole bunch of anonymous trysts, and let them run together into one long, indefinite tryst. What do you say?”
Annie’s luscious lower lip trembled. “I just can’t take this right now,” she whispered. “I can’t handle you, too, on top of everything.”
Jacob stifled a sigh. Nice going, bonehead, he thought. He was just a barrel of laughs this morning. “Don’t look at me like that, Annie,” he said wearily. “I swear to God, I’m completely harmless.”
That provoked a soggy little chuckle. “Hah. I can think of lots of words to describe you, Jacob, but ‘harmless’ is not one of them.”
“And just exactly what have I harmed so far?” he demanded.
She stuck out her chin. “You’re harmful to my peace of mind.”
He made a disgusted sound as he shrugged into his jacket. “You didn’t strike me as all that peaceful before.”
He had a point, Annie conceded silently, but she would rather die than admit it to him. He leaned quietly against his bike, watching her as she bustled around dismantling her campsite. Not offering to help, which was fine with her, because she didn’t need any help. None, zip, nada. Not from him, not from anybody. It was time to take charge.
But it was hard to feel in charge with Jacob’s dark eyes following her around. God, he was gorgeous. This morning was the first good look she’d gotten of him naked. The lean, harmonious grace of his muscular body was heart-stopping. She started blushing again just thinking of the formidable erection he had just displayed to her. Incredible to think that all of that had been inside of her, over and over, all night long. A rush of liquid heat made her catch her breath and press her thighs together. She was even regretting the fact that she hadn’t given him a blow job, which was odd because it had never been her specialty. But she actually wanted to take Jacob in her mouth, to run her tongue around the swollen crimson head of his penis. To rub her hands up and down that rigid shaft, make him groan and dig his fingers into her hair.
God, what was wrong with her? One minute she was giving herself a bracing pep talk, the next, she was staring into space, dreaming of Jacob’s thick penis sliding in and out of her mouth. The man had her under a spell. She peeked at him. He was smiling, and the bulge in his jeans proved that he knew exactly what she was thinking. She had to get out of here, quick, before she started to beg him for it.
She packed her stuff haphazardly into Mildred, and turned back to him, digging her keys out of her pocket. What did people say in these situations? She hadn’t a clue. She shook her head helplessly.
Jacob gave her a crooked little smile. “See you around, Annie.”
“See you,” she muttered, leaping into the pickup. She didn’t let herself look back.
The ache started right about when she pulled onto the highway. It was nagging and painful, like a bad toothache, but in her belly. How rude, to just leave like that. She could have said something nicer, after that incredible night. Something sweeter. At least something polite.
She looked for him on the road all day. A couple of times she thought she saw a faraway motorcycle, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t stop for lunch, or to hike, just at a couple of rest stops to pee and stare blankly at the bare trees. She tried eating some saltines, but they wouldn’t go into the cast-iron knot of her stomach.
She couldn’t blame him for vanishing. In his place, she would have done the same, but now she would never have the chance to tell him how special and healing that night had been to her. All day she composed little speeches of all the things she wished she’d said to him. To hell with her pride. He was a really nice guy, and he deserved to know the truth—that he was sweet, and sexy, and fabulous in bed, and that he’d made her feel better than she’d ev
er felt in her life.
She found a campground at sunset, and set up her tent. Don’t think about him any more, she told herself. Go about your business. Tarp, tent, pegs, poles. Rain canopy, sleeping bag, toiletries bag, camp stove. She rummaged through her supplies with a sigh. She didn’t want the Middle Eastern Couscous Cup or Tia Rita’s Black Bean Surprise. And she really, really didn’t want any more of those goddamn canned peaches. Thank God the day was finished. Almost time to roll herself into a Santa cocoon and forget who she was in the oblivion of sleep.
“Hi, Annie,” came a voice from the shadows behind her.
She whirled around. “Jacob?” She was so happy to see him that her heart swelled like a balloon. She smiled at him foolishly.
He stepped out of the shadows and placed the paper bag he was carrying on the picnic table.
“What have you got there?” she asked.
He looked wary. “Dinner,” he said belligerently.
“Dinner?” Annie approached the table and sniffed. Mouthwatering smells were coming out of the bag. She pulled out a foam container and popped it open. Barbecued chicken. Oh, God. Her stomach yawned open joyfully.
“Yeah. So?” he said defensively. “Go ahead, Annie. Let me have it. Get it over with. Tell me what an asshole I am for buying you dinner.”
Annie forced herself not to laugh at his martyred face. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “It looks delicious. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
He blinked, and visibly relaxed. “Really?”
“Really.” She threw herself at him and hugged him hard. His strong arms circled her, and she hid her face against his chest, willing herself not to start bawling; she would just embarrass the poor guy.
She stepped back, giving him a shaky smile. Jacob grinned back, smoothing over the awkward moment by giving her a gentle kiss on her nose. “Let’s eat, then,” he suggested. “You hungry?”
“You have no idea,” she said fervently.
They feasted on Jacob’s bounty. Barbecued chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, twice-baked cheese grits, col-lard greens and coleslaw and cornbread, and the crowning touch: two huge pieces of pie, chocolate pecan and pumpkin chiffon, swimming in whipped cream. It was so delicious it almost reduced her to tears again.
They finished the pie, and the process of licking various sticky bits of chocolate and pumpkin from each others’ fingers segued into a sweet, clinging kiss. Jacob lifted his head reluctantly, dropping soft kisses on her upturned face like a sweet, hot rain. “Annie,” he said in a soft, pleading voice. “I know I’m pushing my luck, but there’s a really nice bed and breakfast in town. Four-poster beds, country quilts, private baths. Coffee and scones and orange juice in the morning.”
Annie hid her face against him, trying not to show how tempted she was. How marvelous it would be to just creep under Jacob’s big, strong wing and huddle there like a shivering, rain-drenched baby bird.
No. She was not a baby bird and she would not permit herself to act like one. She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. She didn’t want to sound mouthy or mean. He didn’t deserve it.
“Jacob, it’s sweet of you, but I have to travel inside my own budget. If you want my company, then you’re just going to have to—” She stopped herself abruptly. That was an ultimatum. Ultimatums sounded snotty and uppity. Be nice, Annie, she reminded herself. Think sweet. Make an effort.
She began again, in a halting voice. “You’re welcome to stay with me… that is, you’re more than welcome. I have to make do with my funky old tent, and I’m sorry it’s so uncomfortable. But please stay with me.” She closed her eyes, and added in a whisper, “I really, really want you to stay.”
Jacob wrapped his arms around her fiercely. “You know damn well that I would sleep naked in the snow for a chance to make love to you again,” he said roughly. “I just don’t understand why we can’t do it someplace warm and dry. But, whatever. At least our stomachs are full.”
Annie rubbed her face against the velvety skin of his neck, weak with relief. “I’ll do my best to distract you from how uncomfortable it is.” She got up and tugged on his hand, drawing him toward the tent. “On your feet, Jacob. I’ve got plans for you tonight.”
“Oh, yeah?” His voice was full of cautious speculation.
“Yeah.” She kicked off her shoes and unzipped the tent flap. “Remember how you said that last night was all about me?”
She knelt and untied the laces of his boots. He stepped out of them obediently. “Yeah,” he said. “Why?”
She looked up at him with a mysterious smile. “Guess who tonight is going to be all about?”
“Oh, God,” he muttered as she dragged him into the tent.
She was different tonight, bold and fierce, shoving his jacket roughly off his shoulders.
“What’s the rush?” he asked. “Are we late for something?”
“Cut the smart-ass remarks and get your clothes off, buddy,” she snapped breathlessly. “I’m trying to make a point, here.”
He wasn’t about to argue with that. They stripped with feverish haste, desperate for the hot contact of skin and lips and hands. She ran her hands over his shoulders and arms with a murmur of approval, and yanked out the elastic band that held his hair, ruffling it into a wild mane. “I like you like this,” she said. “I love your long hair.”
“I grew it out just for you,” he told her goofily, laughing as she buried her face in his neck and nipped it. She tugged his earlobe with her teeth and whispered, “Yesterday I asked if you wanted a blow job.”
God forbid that she should think he didn’t like them, he thought, with a flash of alarm. “Hey, just because I declined one yesterday doesn’t mean that I don’t—”
“Shut up, Jacob,” she said in a low, purring voice.
He strained to read her expression in the dark. “Huh?”
“Tonight, I’m not asking you. Tonight, I’m telling you. Got it?”
“Oh,” he said inanely.
“Lie down.” She shoved him down imperiously until he was flat on his back, and knelt over him, the canopy of her hair brushing like a wide, whisper-soft kiss down the length of his torso. The hair between her legs tickled his navel as she straddled him, and the hot, moist kiss of her sex pressed intimately against his belly.
She leaned down, raining little kisses all over his face. He slid his hand behind her head and pulled her face down to his, but she made a fierce sound of protest, grabbed his wrists, and jerked them up above his head. He writhed luxuriously in her grasp, allowing her strong, slender hands to subdue him without protest. “I’m at your mercy,” he said, with just a tiny tremor of laughter in his voice.
“You better believe it,” she breathed into his ear. Her nails dug into his wrists as she thrust her tongue into his mouth.
He opened his mouth eagerly to her fierce, conquering kiss. It felt odd, being passive. It wasn’t his usual role, but, hell, he would wear a pink tutu and hang upside down if that was what she wanted. And there was something very fine about having a beautiful, tough woman holding him prisoner, scrambling around on top of him, rubbing her fragrant, silky self against his aroused body.
She kissed him with an innocent aggressiveness that touched him almost as much as it turned him on, and then slid slowly down his body, letting her hair drag across his face and neck. She nibbled on his nipples while brushing her soft, downy bush gently back and forth across his stiff cock until he thought he was going to scream. She laughed, softly and mercilessly. She was doing it on purpose, just to torture him. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to flip her over on her back and ram himself inside her.
He almost wept with relief when she seized his dick, sliding her hands up and down with appreciative slowness. She measured him with a purring sound of delighted approval. “God, I wish there was more light in here,” she murmured. “I want to see every detail.”
“There’s a flashlight in my saddlebags, on the bike,” he gasped.
“And
do you want to be the one to go get it?” She leaned down and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, a wet, luscious vortex of sensation that rendered him breathless with delight. He let his head drop back onto the ground with a thud. “Next time,” he moaned.
“I agree,” she murmured. Then there was no more speech, just the soft, moist, delicious kissing and suckling sounds she made as she drew him into her mouth and out of his mind.
She was voracious and tender at the same time, swirling her tongue around erotically, licking up and down the whole length of him with voluptuous sweeps of her tongue until he was wet and slick. Then she grasped him, moving her slender hands up and down his shaft in a sensual rhythm along with her hot, suckling mouth. She cupped his balls tenderly in her hand. “There’s so much of you, I don’t know what to do with it all,” she whispered seductively.
“You’re doing fine,” he assured her, his voice shaking. “If you did any better, I’d probably have a stroke.”
She laughed and put her mouth to him again with tender eagerness, making his heart swell and throb almost as much as his cock, and then he forgot everything except for this stunning woman and this perfect, erotic moment. The universe was centered on Annie’s hot mouth, her clever tongue, her gentle hands. The silky clutch and glide of her mouth against his exquisitely sensitive flesh was pushing him too close to the brink, and she made a soft, questioning murmur when he put his hands on either side of her face, slowing her down. “Don’t make me come just yet,” he begged. “It’s too perfect.”
“OK, OK,” she whispered. She waited until his hands relaxed, and he stopped trembling, then began to move again with diabolical skill, patiently taking him to the brink and drawing back, again and again until he was thrashing his head from side to side, chest heaving, tangling his fingers into her hair.
She lifted her head. “After last night, it’s only fair to make you come in my mouth, but I’ve got to have you inside me,” she said in a soft, ragged voice. “I’m going crazy. I promise, the next time I’ll—”
All Through the Night Page 28