A Moment in Time

by Deb Stover

  "That 'pistol' in my pocket is loaded." He growled low in his throat and threw her over his shoulder. "You still want a picnic?"

  "Yes." She laughed and pounded on his back, pretending

  –unconvincingly, she hoped–to resist his Neanderthal approach. Who would have thought that Victorian men liked sex games?

  "Then we'll have us a picnic," he said, throwing the bolt, then heading toward his bunk. He dropped her onto the bunk and unbuttoned his shirt.

  Jackie smiled up at him. "I thought you said we were going on a picnic, big guy."

  He slipped off his suspenders and peeled off his shirt, then fell down beside her. "Later," he growled.

  * * *

  Hand in hand, Cole and Jackie walked slowly to the waterfall. The purpose of his last few visits was nothing but a memory now. Today, he and Jackie would bathe in the falls together and make love on the quilt he'd stashed in the basket of food he carried in his free hand.

  Make love.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. How would she react to his plans? Giving her hand a squeeze, he glanced at her profile and his determination renewed itself. He was doing the right thing. Now, if only she agreed...

  Last night's cool rain had bathed the air with freshness. It really felt like spring now–not the unusual drought they'd been having. He chuckled to himself. Springtime in the Rocky Mountains typically brought snow, snow and more snow. The unusually dry weather had seemed more like late summer than late spring.

  He'd lost track of time since Jackie came into his life. Was it June yet? He shook his head and pushed a branch aside and held it until she passed safely, then ducked through behind her.

  The waterfall came into view and they paused to admire it. "Spring thaw is what feeds this creek, but the snow in the high country is almost gone now," he said. "Pity."

  "That can change pretty fast up here." A distant expression entered Jackie's eyes.

  "Have you spent a lot of your life in the mountains?" He knew very little about her, yet he felt so close to her. And he was looking forward to getting a lot closer again today.

  She shook her head. "No, but I got caught in a June blizzard. Once."

  "You've probably been all over the world," he said, leading her to the boulder where he usually put his clothes. He set the basket on it and leaned against it, facing her. "Have you?"

  "Have I what?"

  He touched her shoulder and she turned toward him. "Jackie, something's bothering you."

  She gave a quick shrug, but her eyes clearly revealed her anxiety. "Nothing important," she said.

  "All right, if you say so." He massaged her shoulder and placed his other hand on her tiny waist. "I asked if you've traveled all over the world."

  "Not hardly." She gave a short laugh. "Great-Aunt Pearl considered a Sunday drive in her old caddie the equivalent of a trip to Europe."

  "What's a caddie? And did you live with your great-aunt?"

  "A, uh, caddie is a type of carriage." Her cheeks turned crimson. "My mother died when I was about Todd's age, and my great-aunt raised me. So to speak." Jackie rolled her eyes and released a ragged sigh. "Enough about me." She reached for the buttons of his shirt and waggled her eyebrows. "Let's frolic like wood nymphs."

  Cole laughed and shrugged out of his shirt, then reached for the buttons on her dress. "You be the nymph and I'll be the satyr, thank you very much. My mother would've loved talking to you."

  Jackie's expression changed again, her gray eyes solemn. "Really? Even though I'm corrupting her son?"

  He eased her dress from her shoulders. "I'm thirty-four years old, Jackie." Resting his hands on her bare shoulders, he massaged her soft flesh with his thumbs. "Way too old for corruption."

  "I wouldn't be too sure of that." She flashed him an impish grin and bent over to untie her strange shoes. After stepping out of them, she placed them on the boulder with her dress. "I bent over for you again, big guy," she said, facing him.

  "I definitely noticed." He'd been hard since they left the cabin. And ready. Seeing her standing here in her unmentionables made him want to ravish her without delay. But he also wanted to take this slow and easy. Maybe if he could learn more about her, he would have better luck predicting her reaction to his announcement. Maybe.

  "Yes, my mother would've really liked you, Jackie. Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

  She shrugged again. "I don't know. It just is." She tilted her head to one side and gave him a quizzical look. "What was she like, Cole? And your father?"

  "You keep changing the subject." He smiled and placed his hands on her upper arms again, remembering that the only thing separating him from her beautiful breasts was a thin piece of cotton.

  "I'm curious about you, too." She opened his belt buckle and released the top button.

  His breath caught and he tried not to think about the throbbing between his legs. "My father was a professor at the University of Missouri in Columbia."

  Another button popped open.

  "A professor? Wow." She eased her cool fingers beneath his waistband and gently massaged his lower abdomen. "So," she continued, her breathing ragged, "that's why you like books."

  "Yeah, I suppose." He flinched, pulsing with rising hunger as her fingers grew closer and closer to the part of him that screamed for release. "My..."

  She released another button and rested her cheek against his chest, her warm breath fanning his bare flesh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "What was I saying?" he asked, so aroused he could barely put words together, much less think coherently.

  "You were telling me about your parents." She opened the last two buttons and slid her hands inside the waistband, slipping them lower on his hips. "What about your mother?" Gazing up at him, she bit her lower lip and pressed her full length against him, cradling his throbbing arousal against her soft, flat belly.

  "My...mother? Oh, yeah." He wrapped his arms around Jackie and held her against him, relishing the feel of her softness against his hardness. Knowing what it was like to be buried deep inside her made him want it all the more. There was no such thing as being sated where this woman was concerned. He would always want more.

  "Your mother what?" She traced a line of fire with her tongue across his chest, drawing torturous circles around his nipples.

  He shuddered, trying to remember what they were discussing, what he needed to tell her, the questions she'd asked him. Oh, yes. "My mother was a teacher before I was...born." He sucked in a breath as his dungarees fell to his knees, freeing him to her explorations.

  And explore she did.

  She cupped him in both hands and nipped his nipple with her teeth. "What was she like?" Jackie whispered, wrapping her hands around him. "Hmm?"

  "Uh, she loved books, too. Read to me all the time, like you do to Todd." Cole grabbed her shoulders and set her away, untying the ribbons that kept her gorgeous breasts hidden. "She taught me to love books." He spoke very fast now, eager to finish this and give all his attention over to making Jackie writhe and moan beneath him again. "She especially loved fairy tales and mythology." He eased the camisole over her head, revealing her full, perfect breasts and tawny, erect nipples to his starving senses. "God, you're so beautiful."

  "So are you." Jackie came closer, wrapping her hands around his swollen organ again. Her nipples brushed against his chest and he reached behind her to release the drawstring at her waist. As the fabric fell away, she gave him a playful little shove and he fell back against the sun-warmed boulder.

  She slithered out of her underthings and tossed them carelessly onto the boulder, then bent over–Lord, he loved it when she did that–and removed his boots and dungarees. He started to stand up straight, but she giggled and shoved him down again.

  She wanted to play games and was killing him with the delay. His gaze traveled the length of her–down her silken throat, along the curve of her shoulder, lingering at her breasts to watch her nipples tighten even more. With his gaze, he worshipped her, savori
ng the way her small waist flared to her hips.

  And those legs... Long, supple, strong. Very strong. She'd wrapped those beauties around him last night and there'd been no escape. Of course, escape had never even crossed his mind. Eager to have her in his arms again, he pushed himself to his feet, only to have her shove him down again.

  "Why'd you do that?"

  She closed the small distance that separated them, her hips swaying, her breasts jutting forward invitingly. "I aim to have my way with you, big guy."

  Her gaze rested between his legs and he hardened even more beneath her ardent scrutiny. Anticipating. "Woman, you can have anything you want," he breathed, "as long as you get to it before this hankering kills me."

  "Hankering?" She made a wicked little sound in her throat that sent shivers down his spine.

  And other places.

  "I'll show you hankering." She covered him with her lovely body and kissed him fiercely.

  Lips, tongue, mouth–she threw everything into that kiss and he gave in turn. He reached for her breasts, but she slithered lower, eluding him, laving and nibbling his nipples until he groaned and shuddered.

  He'd never had a woman do that to him before, though he supposed it made sense for it to please him since it pleased a woman when he did it to her. Right now, there was only one woman whose breasts he wanted to taste, and he aimed to taste every exquisite inch of her before this day ended.

  This woman was even more powerful in the light of day than she had been last night. He wanted and needed her more than he'd ever imagined possible. The thought gave him pause, made him wonder about the significance of these feelings, and how she would fit into his plans for the future.

  And, heaven help him, he wanted her to be a part of that future. He considered stopping her so they could talk, but she slithered against him again and rational thought fled. There was no stopping this now.

  She draped herself across him and he only wanted to roll her over and bury himself inside her. He knew she wanted him, too. In fact, he'd never made love to a more responsive woman than Jackie Clarke.

  If she were any more responsive, he'd be dead by now.

  She kissed her way lower, sliding her silken legs between his as the velvet peaks of her breasts brushed against the tense muscles of his abdomen, teasing and enticing. Realization slammed into him like a runaway train and Cole groaned–yearning blended with apprehension. He wasn't sure if he was worried she would or worried she might change her mind and leave him wondering. The only certainty in his life right now was that he was incapable of preventing her from doing anything she wanted. Anything at all.

  And he liked that feeling. A lot.

  She kissed the responsive skin of his inner thighs, teased every inch of him except that one part–the part of him that thrust upward from his body, throbbing and burning like a lit fuse.

  She nuzzled the base of his engorgement. He'd never seen such an incredible sight, and he stared, transfixed, reveling in her purposeful explorations. Mesmerized, he couldn't have looked away for anything.

  She tormented him with kisses along the entire length of his rigid member. He couldn't take any more. She was driving him crazier than she already had. "Jackie..." But rather than push her away, he laced his fingers through her fiery locks, telling himself he could coax her into ceasing this bedevilment for the sake of shared ecstasy. There was also the matter of his questionable survival if she continued much longer.

  But continue she did.

  She'd said she would have her way with him, but she should've warned him that it might be dangerous. Her tongue slid higher and higher until he believed he might expire right here. Right now.

  But just as he convinced himself he had the strength and fortitude to stop her, she claimed his aching tip and he was as defenseless as a pine in a forest fire. He made a choking sound and gnashed his teeth, praying he could maintain enough control to delay the inevitable.

  She glanced up at him, her gray eyes sparkling like silver in the dappled sunlight. Cole's composure steadily crumbled, dragging him closer and closer to gratification. He should make her stop.

  I'm weak. Barely breathing, he endured her special brand of persecution. Soon, he would pass his breaking point. But just a few more minutes...

  He couldn't stop staring at her and what she was doing to his extremely eager body. Her lashes were long and black, her cheeks pink. Her naked breasts caressed his thighs, reminding him how desperately he wanted to touch and taste her.

  Remembering the intensity of her response to him last night, he surged toward the point of no return. Dangerously close. His breathing sounded raspy and he closed his eyes. Her technique grew more reckless, shaking him back to reality. He couldn't wait another minute.

  He gripped her shoulders and pulled her away from him, firmly but gently. Drawing huge gulps of air, he grappled for command. Grinning, she ran her tongue along her lower lip.

  She really was trying to kill him. "Now it's my turn," he muttered, rising from the hard boulder with one arm wrapped around her waist. He grabbed the quilt and tossed it to the ground on a bed of pine needles, then kicked one corner until it was relatively flat.

  He fell to the quilt, tugging her down with him. She covered his mouth with hers, kissing him wildly. Growling, he rolled until she was beneath him and he found her breast, brushing his thumb against her puckered nipple. She shuddered and moaned and he dragged his mouth from hers, fastening his lips to her breast.

  Ravenous, he consumed her. She writhed and arched against him, driving him to drink more deeply. More, always more. Raw, savage need pierced him, burning deep within Cole.

  Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he gazed into her passion-glazed eyes. She looked like a beautiful, wild creature. Her firm breasts rose and fell enticingly with her ragged breathing.

  He reclaimed her mouth, parting her lips with his tongue. Jackie's tongue probed his in return, converting his blood to molten ore. Desperation coursed through him. She'd unleashed a wild yearning from deep within him–something he'd never known before.

  And the spirit of his flesh–and hers–would rule.

  He tore his mouth from hers, gasping for air. She pressed her hand to the back of his neck, urging him toward her breasts again. Without delay, he hungrily claimed one swollen nipple.

  She moaned and writhed with need as his onslaught continued. Her sweet breasts swelled and filled his mouth. He needed her, wanted her, had to have her. But he was hell- bent on giving her as much torture and pleasure as she'd shown him.

  Jackie realized she'd unleashed a dangerous animal. This was the same man she'd made love with last night, but he was far less reserved today.

  And she liked it.

  He stroked her belly with his hand and found the concentration of nerves between her thighs, caressing her until she quivered. Releasing her nipple, he moved up her body again, covering her mouth with his.

  Flames claimed her as he mercilessly brought her body to the brink of orgasm. She whimpered again–he was the only man who'd ever reduced her to whimpering–and contorted beneath his skillful touch.

  She clung to him as his mouth possessed hers and his talented fingers invaded her most private place. Every cell in her body became his toy, his possession. For an interminable twinkling, the world ceased to exist. She wanted him. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  Again, he broke their kiss, then licked his way back down her throat, lingering at her collarbone as his hand continued to inflict mounting pleasure. He reclaimed her sensitive nipples, torturing her beyond any reasonable level of endurance.

  "Please, Cole?"

  "Not yet," he murmured against her. Ruthlessly, he possessed her breasts, first one then the other, with his tongue and teeth.

  Her only defense against his delicious ravishment was to give in turn. She reached for his erection, finding him still hard and ready. Her insides clenched as he filled her with his thick fingers and her hips came off the quilt.

  Hungrily,
she wrapped her hand around him. "So hot," she whispered. "Hot."

  "Mmm."

  Swollen, starving flesh pressed against flesh. She coiled into a tense spring, on the verge of snapping. Reality ceased. Every curve, every hollow, every nerve of Jackie's body sprang to life in a new, raw version of its former self. Cole staked his claim with his mouth and hands. Kissing his way down her belly, he replaced his fingers with his hot, wet mouth.

  "Have mercy," she whispered, and he chuckled against her, the vibration zeroing in on her hormones with amazing accuracy.

  She was on fire. This was a primal, basic, and undeniable hunger. He forced her to yield to her most carnal and animalistic desires. She left the ground as her senses coalesced and erupted.

  Unintelligible moans of torment, bliss and desire bubbled up from her. She groaned, growled, cried out, but he persisted. Only he could end this madness, and she knew he wanted her as desperately as she wanted him.

  She'd never known that something that felt so wonderful could actually become torture. But this was indeed torture. Someone had to give. She sensed his mounting frustration, his inner battle to maintain control.

  As her spasms subsided, he released her and crept up her body again, pinning her beneath him. She couldn't think of anyplace she'd rather be.

  "I want you inside me," she whispered, tilting her hips toward his. "All of you."

  With a low growl, he came into her hot and fast and fierce, filling her. Claiming her.

  "Have mercy," she muttered, shocked all over again by the size of this man.

  Whoever said size doesn't matter had lied.

  The depth and completeness of his possession stole her breath. She took every delicious inch of him, wrapping her legs around his waist, angling her hips to allow even more thorough penetration.

  Their bodies brutalized the other in their quest, striving to give and to take. Their hunger possessed them like a glorious, unrelenting madness.

  Love-lust aflame, the crashing of swells against the seashore. This was everything–the only thing. Swept away to another world–a place where time ceased to exist–they rocked against each other. Seeking. Giving. Taking.