Thunderstruck

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Thunderstruck Page 10

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  “See, you did need them.”

  “Yeah.” He could barely breathe from wanting her. Setting the box down, he stood and pulled his shirt over his head. Instead of worrying about his boots and jeans, he settled for efficiency. Unfastening the snap and his fly was enough.

  As he rolled on a condom, he kept his gaze on her. He’d never forget how she looked right now—her cheeks pink, her lips parted, her breasts quivering with every rapid breath and her hips moving restlessly against the rumpled bedspread. He especially wouldn’t forget this midafternoon view of the curls at the juncture of her thighs and the dampness that telegraphed her desire.

  He would love to give her the kind of tongue bath she’d given him, but they were running out of time. The chance that someone would wander down here to check on them was too great. He moved between her soft thighs and leaned forward, his mouth hovering over hers. “I know where your keys are.”

  “Where?” She caressed his back and shoulders.

  “In your truck, under the seat, where you usually put them.”

  Her soft chuckle was sexy as hell. “Fancy that.”

  “Yeah, fancy that.” And as he kissed her, he rocked his hips forward and shoved deep. Heaven. Good thing he’d thought to cover her mouth with his, though, because she arched against him and came with a muffled cry. His blood sang in triumph.

  Lifting his head, he gazed down at her. “That was quick.”

  She gulped for air. “I’ve been...thinking about it...all day.”

  “Then I’ll bet you can join me in another one.” He began to move.

  “Could be.” Clutching his hips, she held his gaze as she matched his rhythm, rising to meet each thrust.

  He watched her eyes darken, which was so much easier in natural light. He’d never cared what time he had sex with a woman. With Philomena, he would always choose days over nights. As he stroked faster, her eyes told him that her orgasm was drawing close.

  So was his. But he could hold off long enough to let her go first. “I want to watch you come.”

  “I’ll bet I turn red.”

  He smiled. “I’ll bet you do.” He pumped a little faster.

  Her breathing changed and she tightened her grip on his hips. She was almost there. “Don’t watch.”

  “Let me.”

  “Okay.” She began to pant. “If you have to.” She closed her eyes.

  “No, don’t close your eyes.”

  She lifted her lashes.

  His breath caught. Her gaze was intense, burning with the same fire that drove him to plunge into her again and again. But within that flame was a hint of something else, a flash of vulnerability. Then she let go, surrendering to the contractions that rolled over his cock. Her face might have turned red. He couldn’t say. All his attention was focused on the depth of emotion in her dark blue eyes.

  As he absorbed the power of that emotion, his control slipped. Before he could regain it, his climax roared through him with a force that left him quivering and gasping for air. But he didn’t look away, didn’t want to. Something stirred in his chest, an unfamiliar feeling he couldn’t identify.

  Cradling his face in both hands, she searched his expression, a bemused smile on her kiss-reddened lips. “Are you okay?”

  “Um, sure.” But something had changed a moment ago, and he needed some alone time to think about what it was.

  “You seem...” She paused to clear her throat. “You seem a little overwhelmed.”

  He tried to lighten the mood. “Who wouldn’t be? A beautiful woman thinks I’m lickable when I’m covered with sweat and construction dust.”

  “There wasn’t any dust on your chest. I probably wouldn’t have licked your bare arm.”

  “Yeah, but I was sweaty and you didn’t seem to care. That was a little mind-blowing.”

  She gave a little shrug. “I can’t explain it. I don’t get turned on by sweaty men in general, but I sure do with you, for some reason.”

  “My good luck, I guess.” He leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. “We’d better bring this little incident to a close, though.”

  “Right.”

  He lifted his head and looked into her eyes again. His reaction wasn’t quite as intense this time, which was comforting. “At least we won’t be so desperate for each other by the time the party’s over.”

  “Funny, but I didn’t even think about that. I just...needed you.”

  His chest tightened at the honesty of that statement. She’d needed him and wasn’t afraid to say so. He was aware that needing and wanting weren’t exactly the same thing. “Good thing we finished up early.”

  “I was motivated. And now I’m motivated to get myself home so I can show up all cute and perky for the barbecue.”

  “Then I’d better let you up.” After one last lingering kiss, he left their makeshift bed and turned away to dispose of the condom.

  “Putting the mattress on the floor was brilliant.”

  “Thanks.” He zipped up and turned back as she walked over to her pile of clothes. A shaft of sunlight touched her hair, highlighting the coppery glints in the deep red color. He’d taken a step toward her, hand outstretched, before he caught himself. Look but don’t touch, Harrison.

  His fascination with her was worrying, but he blamed it on the unusual circumstances. Once he left here next week and returned to his normal routine, he’d be fine. But he kept thinking of the way she’d looked at him right before her orgasm gripped her. Her gaze had been both passionate and open.

  She’d claimed that they’d suffer equally when he went back to California, but he wasn’t so sure. She might not be as good at building walls as he was.

  “Let me help you straighten this place up.”

  He snapped out of his daze to discover she was dressed and headed for the mattress. “Don’t bother.” He blocked her path. “You have to drive home and back but all I have to do is shower and change. I’ll take care of it.”

  “All right.” She peered at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, but I’m worried about you.”

  “Me? I’m terrific. Couldn’t be better.”

  “I think...” He hesitated. This could be an explosive situation, one he didn’t have a lot of practice in dealing with. “I think being with me could be bad for you. In the long run.”

  She crossed her arms. “And what brought you to that conclusion?”

  He wasn’t going to tell her what he’d seen in her eyes when they were making love. That seemed too tender and personal. So he latched on to something else. “A little while ago you said you needed me. That doesn’t sound like the statement of somebody who will go merrily on her way after I leave.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Now we’re debating word choices. After working with you all day and observing your bodacious physique, I needed a release. I said I needed you, because it sounds really crass to say that I needed sex with the nearest available man, which happened to be you.”

  He didn’t believe a word of it, but he couldn’t argue the point without bringing up what he’d seen in her eyes right before she gave herself to an orgasm that he’d helped create. A gentleman didn’t do that to a lady. “I’m just checking, because I don’t want you to be...unhappy.”

  “We’ve already discussed that. Of course I’ll be unhappy for a little while. Most people would be. But as I told Rosie, I’m not about to let you or any guy sabotage the life I’ve worked so hard to build.”

  He took note of the belligerent jut of her chin and the defiant gleam in her eyes. There was nothing open and vulnerable about her now. Maybe she could build psychological walls as well as she constructed real ones. “That’s great. Glad to hear it.”

  “Were you leading up to something, like maybe you shouldn’t spend the night at my house?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Because frankly, you’re beginning to worry me. I catch you staring off into space and acting as if something’s really bothering you. Are
you afraid you’re getting in too deep with me? If so, we can dial it back. I don’t want to hurt you, either.”

  That pricked his manly pride. “Like I’ve said, I won’t enjoy leaving you, and I’ll miss you, but I can handle it.”

  “Then I guess neither of us has to worry about the other one.”

  “Guess not.”

  “So the invitation is still open, if you care to take advantage of it.” Her blue gaze challenged him. “You’ll be the first man to christen my sleigh bed, if that interests you at all.”

  He smiled. “I guess you do know guys pretty well. Not many of us could resist being the first guy in a woman’s cherished sleigh bed.”

  “Just so you don’t get the wrong impression, you’re not the first one to be invited. But the others declined. Wait, that sounds as if I’ve issued invitations right and left. In the past five years, I’ve invited two different guys to share that bed. In each case, they declined.”

  “Why the hell would they do that?”

  “I can’t tell you for sure, but I think they didn’t want to be confronted with my expertise as a carpenter and general handywoman. If we stayed in their apartment, they could maintain their illusion of superiority in all areas.”

  “What a load of bull. I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with your place.”

  Her voice softened. “And I can’t wait to show it to you. It’s not often I can entertain someone who understands what went into the renovation. My dad’s visited, and he’s appreciative, but he’s my dad. He’d rave if I put new hinges on the front door.”

  He’d always suspected that more was riding on his overnights at her house than simply sex. Phil wanted to show off her work, and boy, did he understand that. It was the driving reason he flipped houses. If no one ever saw the result of your labors, what was the point?

  Walking over to her, he drew her into his arms. “Enough of the psychoanalyzing. I want to come home with you tonight. I want to see all the great things you’ve done with your house. And then I want to kiss every freckle on your sweet body.”

  She blushed. “And now you have a general idea of how many that is.”

  “The more to tease you with, my dear.” He gave her a goodbye kiss and she left the cabin. He watched her go and hoped he was doing the right thing, both for her and for him. If she was falling for him, he’d never forgive himself. If he was falling for her...that would be a first. He’d never allowed it to happen before, but he’d never met anyone like Philomena, either.

  He felt restless, in need of an activity that would take his mind off her, and he knew exactly what he craved. After pulling on his T-shirt and retrieving his hat, he walked down to the barn, where he met his foster father.

  “Finished for the day?” Herb asked.

  “We are. How’s the automatic watering system working?”

  “Better, but I’m still not happy with it.”

  “I’ll take a look before I head back to California.”

  “That would be great. Don’t worry about it now, though. Rosie made me promise I wouldn’t be in the middle of fixing it when the party starts, and I’m sure that goes for you, too.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of doing it now, but I sure would like to borrow your horse for a little while if that’s okay.”

  “You know it is, son. Just don’t be gone too long or Rosie will start fretting. You know how she gets before a party.”

  Damon laughed. “I know. I just need to blow off some steam.”

  “That sounds great. Wish I could go with you, but Rosie wants me up at the house to help her with the tables.”

  “Oh. Well, I could help with that, too.”

  “No, no. Go for your ride. You don’t get much chance to do that anymore, I’ll bet.”

  “No, I sure don’t.”

  “Then go and have fun.”

  “That’s the idea.” Damon grabbed a lead rope from the barn and walked out to the pasture with a sense of anticipation. Moments later he had Navarre, a dark chestnut, tethered to the hitching post.

  Saddling and bridling the horse reminded him of how much he missed doing this task. He’d considered checking out stables in the LA area but instinctively he’d known they wouldn’t provide the experience he was looking for. Mounting up and trotting away from the barn made him smile with pleasure.

  He headed across ranch property toward a gate that opened out on Forest Service land and a primitive dirt road leading into the trees. Once they were through the gate and on the road, Navarre trotted faster of his own accord. Damon chuckled. “Guess you need to blow off some steam, too, huh? Okay, buddy, let’s go!” He nudged the horse’s flanks and Navarre leaped forward.

  Grabbing his hat, Damon held it against his chest as they pounded down the dirt road at a full gallop. Oh, yeah. He’d needed this. Surfing was fun, but it didn’t thrill him like a hard ride on a good horse. At heart, he would always be a cowboy.

  10

  PHIL HAD BEEN to several parties at Thunder Mountain Ranch and they’d always been joyous affairs. The Padgetts knew how to entertain and make people feel welcome and special. But this particular party felt bittersweet. The guests all knew that if Thunder Mountain Academy didn’t raise enough money by the Kickstarter deadline of September first, this would be the last party at the ranch.

  Because of that, everyone was eager to see what she and Damon had done so far. The fourth cabin provided visible evidence that steps were being taken to save the ranch. Rosie asked if Phil and Damon would take any interested guests on a tour while she and Herb finished setting out the food. Lexi had arrived early, and she and Cade had already checked on the cabin’s progress, so they offered to help Herb and Rosie.

  Phil was happy to play tour guide. She was proud of the work they’d done. But there was a strange vibe going on between her and Damon. She had a hunch what it was all about—he was becoming emotionally involved with her and didn’t know how to handle it.

  She’d have to let him worry about that, though. She had enough problems with her own emotions. They were all over the place. She’d never been as forward with a man as she had been with Damon right from the beginning.

  He was probably used to women coming on strong, but no guy had ever inspired her to behave this way. She’d driven out to his cabin, for pity’s sake, wearing nothing but a caftan and flip-flops. She’d started the encounter in the bathhouse, and this afternoon she’d deliberately seduced him.

  She blamed her sense of urgency on the ticking clock, which certainly had something to do with it. But the truth was, she’d fallen in lust with him from the get-go and it was threatening to turn into something deeper. She wondered if the same thing was happening to him.

  He wouldn’t want to acknowledge that in himself, so he’d shifted all his uneasiness onto her. If she said the word, he’d nobly end their affair for her own good. Glancing at Damon as they led a group of party guests out to the cabin, she was glad she’d managed to talk him out of it. She’d been crazy for him this afternoon in his sweat-soaked T-shirt and worn jeans, but this presentation had great appeal, too. He’d borrowed a black felt hat from somebody, and his black Western shirt with silver piping emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. His black dress jeans emphasized...oh, yeah.

  She’d waited so long for the right guy to join her in that sleigh bed. Now that she’d met someone who wasn’t intimidated by her, she’d enjoy the experience until it ended. No expectations and no regrets.

  Although she loved being alone with him, watching him interact with the folks at the party was fun, too. At the moment he was talking earnestly with Ty Slater, a former Thunder Mountain foster kid. Phil knew from Rosie that he was now a successful attorney in Cheyenne, but the guy looked like a cowboy to her. He wore his brown Stetson with authority, and he was obviously used to walking around in boots, jeans and a yoked Western shirt.

  Ty was handling the legal paperwork for Thunder Mountain Academy’s Kickstarter program. Phil wasn’t surprised that Damon was qu
izzing him. Damon wouldn’t want to leave any legal detail hanging.

  Molly, Cade’s long-lost cousin, came up beside Phil. “I know we’ve met a few times,” she said, “but I don’t think Ben’s ever been with me.”

  Phil smiled at the tall cowboy. “We haven’t met, but I’ve heard great things about your saddles.”

  “And I’ve heard great things about your home repair skills.” He returned her smile. “So far I’ve been stubbornly handling those chores myself, but Rosie keeps telling me you’d do a better job and a lot faster, too.”

  “Rosie likes to promote small businesses, and I love her for it. If I ever learn to ride well enough to buy a horse, I know who I’ll ask to build my saddle.”

  “Ben’s an artist.” Molly’s eyes, the exact same green as Cade’s, glowed with love. “Whoever’s lucky enough to take his class on saddle-making at the academy is going to learn from the best.”

  “That’s exciting.” Phil admired Molly’s confidence that the academy would become a reality. “So how’s the curriculum shaping up?”

  “It’ll be amazing.” Molly had left a job teaching history at a community college in Arizona to marry Ben, and she’d landed a part-time position at Sheridan Community College. She was devoting all her extra hours to developing Thunder Mountain Academy’s schedule of classes in order to get state accreditation.

  “I wish I could be sixteen again,” Phil said. “The program sounds like fun. Rosie told me five kids from back East have already registered for the spring session.”

  “They have. And more will soon, I’m sure. I know the contributions aren’t quite where Rosie and Herb would like to see them at this stage, but— Oh, my goodness. I didn’t realize you’d have windows in already!” Molly stopped to stare at the half-finished cabin. “I just got chills. It’s really happening.”

  The awe in Molly’s voice was touching. Phil glanced around and noticed that guests were exploring the site with smiles on their faces. Several had walked inside the cabin and were waving to others through the new windows. The buzz of happy conversation was punctuated with laughter. So many people loved Rosie and Herb and wanted Thunder Mountain Academy to succeed.

 

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