And then he was turning her, as he shoved the upturned stools on the bar out of his way. He lifted her, a fleet, seamless movement, so she sat on the bar. Her skirt billowed out around her. He moved, swiftly, before she could grow shy and close her legs against him, and he stood between her knees.
And then he cupped her face in his big, rough hands and kissed her so sweet and long that she feared she would die with the pure, carnal beauty of it.
And then, miracle of miracles, his hands were sliding downward, over her neck, which she arched for him. His lips followed his hands lower … lower. She braced her own hands on the bar, and leaned back on them.
"Eden." He kissed her name into the soft hollow at the base of her throat, at the place where her collar gaped open. He nibbled at her skin there, causing her to release a long, shuddering sigh.
"Jared. Yes…" Was that husky, hungry murmur her own?
His hands slid lower then, nudging aside the little fringed vest she wore, until they found the shape of her breasts. He cupped them gently. Her nipples, through the layers of her shirt and bra, hardened for him. She knew that he must be able to feel them, firm with yearning, wanting more.
He put his head there, between her breasts, and nuzzled her. She brought one hand forward and held his head, pulling him against her, cooing "Yes…" as she stroked his silky brown hair.
And then he kissed her, through her shirt and her bra, a moist, suckling kiss. His mouth sought and found her nipple, closing on it through her clothing, taunting it, arousing it, until it ached and yearned for even more.
His hands strayed down, stroking, seeking, first gliding over her skirt, then caressing her bare knees. And then—she gasped and moaned—sliding up, to the hem of her panties, tracing the elastic there…
And then he froze.
"Jared?" She forced her heavy eyelids to flutter open.
He was watching her, desire still there in his eyes, making them look slightly glazed.
"This is wrong." He was pulling back, smoothing down her skirt over her knees. "I don't believe in—"
She threw her arms around his neck, brought her face right up to his and made no effort to hide the desperation she was feeling. "Take me home, Jared. Take me to the cabin. And make love to me. Please."
He put his hands on her waist in a distancing gesture. "Damn it, Eden, you don't know what—"
"I know exactly what. I want you. You want me. And we … like each other, don't we?"
"Damn it, Eden."
"Don't we? Don't you … like me, Jared?"
He let out a shuddering breath. "Yes."
She hurried on. "I knew it. And I … feel for you. So let's give it a chance. That's all people get in this world, Jared. A chance."
"There's no point. And it's wrong."
She took his face between her hands. "No, it is not wrong. It is not. It's never wrong, when there's love."
He blinked. "Love? What the hell are you saying, Eden?"
Eden looked into his eyes. This was it. The moment when she could play safe and lie, or tell the truth and put her poor heart at his feet.
She chose truth. She lifted her chin. "I'm saying that I love you, Jared."
He swore low and feelingly and pulled loose of her gentle grasp. He turned away.
"Oh, Jared, please. Look at me."
He faced her again, but what he said was not encouraging. "You're crazy. You know about me. I'm not the kind of guy a woman like you should waste her love on."
Eden refused to waver. She kept her chin high. "That's my decision."
"I'm through with love, Eden."
That hurt. That really hurt. But still, she did not let her shoulders slump. "I'm not asking for your love. Did I ask for your love?"
His gray gaze was wary. "No."
"Okay, then. I'm just telling you how it is for me. You don't have to do a thing about it, Jared. That's okay. But you do admit you like me. And want me. Right?"
"Right." The word was a low growl.
"And this really isn't working out—our understanding, I mean. Is it?"
"Hell. All right. No, it's not."
"So maybe we'd be better off to go about this a different way."
"What way?"
Eden opened her mouth to tell him.
But a flood of agonized embarrassment overcame her. No. She couldn't. Wouldn't. It was bad enough that she'd revealed her love to him, only to be told it would never be returned. But to baldly suggest that they become lovers until he left town again…
It was too much. That far she would not go.
Looking away from him, she jumped down from the bar and smoothed her skirt. Then she turned to straighten the stools that he'd pushed every which way in those few glorious moments of passion they had shared.
From behind her, he demanded again, "I asked you, what way?"
She went on fixing the stools. "Never mind. Let it go. We'll sleep on it tonight, and—"
He touched her shoulder. "No."
She froze. "Excuse me?"
"I said no." He turned her to face him, wrapping his hands around her upper arms. He hooked hard into her eyes. "All my damn life I've tried to do the right thing. Do you understand?"
His grip was so warm and strong. Ah, how she longed to…
"Eden. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"And somehow," he continued, "the right thing just about always went wrong."
She nodded again.
"In A.A., they have a saying. One day at a time. Have you heard that?"
"Yes."
"So maybe that's how you and I should take it. One day at a time. Starting with tonight."
"What are you telling me, Jared?"
The flinty eyes were turning once more to smoke. "I'm not telling. I'm asking."
"Asking what?"
"Asking if we could go back to a few minutes ago, to what you asked me a few minutes ago."
"What I asked you—?"
"To take you home to the cabin and—"
Eden felt hope glowing warm in her heart. It was a start. A rocky one maybe, but a start nonetheless.
She said, "Take me home to the cabin, Jared. And make love to me. Please."
His warm hands slid up over her shoulders. He cupped her face. "Damn. What's a man to do when a woman says please?"
* * *
Chapter 11
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They drove the short distance together, in Jared's pickup. Eden sat close to him, her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his hard thigh.
At the cabin, he parked where he'd parked before, beneath the fir tree by the front deck. After he stopped the truck, he sat for a moment, looking at her through the gloom of the cab.
"Do you want to back out?"
She couldn't see his eyes in the darkness, but she could feel his gaze nonetheless. "No. Why? Do you?"
"Hell, no." He chuckled. Eden relished the sound. His chuckles were so rare. "I never wanted to go through with anything as much as I want to go through with this. You're sure you don't plan to get smart and call this off?"
She leaned toward him and breathed in the manly scent of him. "No way." She kissed him, on the side of his chin, near the place where he'd been cut in the fight with Lew.
He made a little growling noise, and his arms went around her. His mouth sought hers.
Outside, a slight wind came up, causing a low, sweet sighing in the trees. But the sound was not nearly as sweet as the sighing that went on in the cab of Jared's pickup right then.
Reluctantly he pulled away. "Let's go in."
"Okay."
They walked up the stone steps to the kitchen door with their arms around each other.
Eden flipped on the overhead light once they were inside, regretting the action the moment it was accomplished. After the soft darkness, she had to squint just to get her bearings in the sudden, harsh brightness. She almost flicked the light off again, but then restrained herself. She should probably offer him some refr
eshment—didn't a woman always offer a man a drink first?—and she'd look pretty silly stumbling around in the dark trying to get him a cola.
She turned to Jared and pasted on a smile. "I'm not, um, really experienced with this." It was the understatement of the year, but he would find that out soon enough.
He took the words at face value. "That makes two of us."
She realized exactly what he meant. Jared Jones had only made love with two women, both of them his wives. He was strict with himself, in terms of his beliefs. Eden liked that. She didn't want a man who held lovemaking cheap.
She felt her stiff smile relax a little. She even dared to brush at a lock of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. "Should I offer you a soda or something?"
He smiled back. His smile was a wonder to her, unpracticed and so very real. "If you offered, should I take it?"
She looked down. "Never mind. Let's skip the soda."
"Good idea." He flipped off the harsh light, casting the room once more into night shadow.
They stood facing each other. And then he asked through the darkness, "Where the hell were we?"
"Excuse me?" She had no idea what he meant.
And then she felt his finger, very lightly, hooking under her purse strap and sliding it off her arm. He whisked it away and set it on the floor somewhere nearby. She didn't notice where. And she didn't much care, either. She felt his touch again, on her shoulder, right where the purse had hung. The touch trailed down. He took one small piece of her vest's fringe between his fingers and he gave a tug. She swayed against him, sighing.
"I said, where were we?" He guided the vest off her shoulders and set it aside. She heard it land on a chair by the table not two feet away.
She swallowed, thinking, Here I am in the dark with this man I've grown to love, this man I want so much—and yet fear a little, to…
Her body felt strangely languorous. And weightless as well. As if she were floating upright in some deep, warm pool.
His strong hands were at her waist. He waltzed her backward, quickly, effortlessly. Until she came up short against the kitchen counter.
"I think we were right about—" he lifted her "—here."
She found herself sitting on the counter, just as she'd been on the bar earlier. Her skirt billowed out again. Jared moved swiftly into the same place he'd been before, close up against her, between her parted knees.
He captured her mouth then.
"Oh, yes," she heard herself sigh against his parted lips. "Right about … here."
His lips played on hers in a long, lovely kiss, while she stroked his hard shoulders and kissed him joyfully in return. He pulled her even closer, so that she could feel his heart beating, strong and swift, against her own.
Then down below, his hands closed on her thighs beneath her skirt. His touch was warm, both a promise and a demand. Eden drew in a long, shaky breath as he guided her legs, gently, inexorably, wider. And then his palms slid around to cup her buttocks and pull her even tighter against him, so that her womanhood was pressed to his hardness. Her senses heated even more than before. Her whole body knew only one yearning, to be closer to him, to be one with him. Not even realizing she did it, she wrapped her legs around his hips, hooking her boots together.
His hands slid under her thighs.
She moaned as he lifted her. She held on for dear life, still lost in his kiss, as he reeled backward from the counter. She could feel him fully, as she settled onto him, once the counter no longer supported her. He was so hard, pressed against her at her most secret place. His hands cupped her thighs, and his mouth demanded everything from hers.
He carried her like that, kissing her, holding her tight and high against him. Out of the kitchen, through the main room and into her own bedroom they went. And then he turned. She felt her back come in contact with something solid. Her heavy eyelids opened a little. He held her pressed against the wall, in the small space between one of the two windows and her vanity table.
Slowly he let her legs down, until she was standing again. Then he put his hands on the wall to either side of her head and he kissed her some more, his whole body caressing her, just as she pressed and rubbed against him.
Eden was in ecstasy. And when he reached up and cupped her chin and then tenderly stroked her cheek, she took his hand and guided it down, until it was between her breasts.
She forced herself to look at him. The soft glow of starlight from the window showed his eyes to her. His eyes were pure smoke right then. A woman could lose herself forever in eyes like those.
At her breasts, she felt his hand moving, doing as she'd prayed he might, slipping the buttons of her shirt from their holes. He smoothed the shirt open, sweetly, gently, and guided it off her shoulders and away.
Then he stood back a little and he took off his own shirt and vest, tossing them aside as soon as he was out of them. She saw the hard, sculptured planes of his upper body, the little trail of hair that ran down his belly into his jeans. She remembered the night she'd watched him sleep. That night, she had almost let herself imagine doing just what they were doing now…
He bent, never letting go of her gaze, and he pulled off his boots and socks. Then he stood. From his back pocket, he took three condoms. He turned, walked to the bed and set them on the little table there.
Eden watched him, unmoving. She'd known about the condoms, of course. Before they left the tavern, he'd acquired them from the machine in the men's room. That machine was another of Eden's improvements. She'd seen enough in her life to have come to believe in safe sex.
Jared returned to her. Looking in her eyes once more, he unbuttoned his jeans and slipped out of both them and his briefs at the same time.
Then he straightened and stood naked before her. Eden thought he was beautiful, as a man can be beautiful, lean-muscled, sculptured, poised for displays of power and grace. His manhood stood out rigidly, proof of his desire. Eden knew a slight apprehension when she saw that most private part of him. She thought of what would happen, very soon. But she believed in her love, and she believed this night would be magic for her. She drew in a deep breath and pushed her anxiety aside.
She reached behind her to unclasp her bra. It came undone easily, the cups falling loose from her breasts. But somehow, just to toss the thing away seemed more than she could manage. In a last gesture of shy modesty, she held the scrap of lacy fabric close to her chest.
A knowing, tender smile played on Jared's lips. He lifted a hand. Then, his eyes still locked with hers, he slid the straps, one at a time, from her shoulders. He gave a tug.
She released the bra. It fell away. And she was naked before him from the waist up.
With the same hand, he caressed the side of her face, just a whisper of a touch. And then his fingers strayed behind her head. He pulled out the comb that held her chin-length hair up in the back. The soft, short curls fell around her cheeks.
He put both hands on her shoulders and slowly brought them down, over the swells of her breasts. He cupped her breasts, one in each hand. With a low moan, he lowered his head. He licked a nipple, then blew on it.
Eden sighed and squirmed in delight. He took the nipple fully into his mouth. She groaned. And then he lavished the same attention on the other waiting breast.
His hands, meanwhile, drifted down, over her waist and then around to the little hook and the zipper at the back of her skirt. The hook came open, the zipper parted. The skirt slid to the floor. Her half-slip quickly followed it.
Eden felt the night air on her skin and knew she was standing, naked but for her panties and cowboy boots, in front of Jared Jones. His roving hand dipped into the waistband of her panties. She gasped. He eased the panties off and helped her to stand while he got them over her boots. After that, he knelt to remove her boots and socks, too.
And then he was pressing himself against her again. His hand returned to the vulnerable center of her, dipping in, feeling her readiness and making her more ready still.
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Eden, lost in wonder, rolled her head back and forth against the wall and let the sensations his touch aroused have their way with her. He said something low and unintelligible.
She said, "Yes," in return. It didn't matter to Eden what he said. Her answer would always be, forever, "Yes…"
She felt him then, kissing his way down her stomach. She stiffened.
He pleaded, "Eden, don't hold back. Let me…"
And she let him. How could she not let him? She wanted to let him, though the kiss he gave her then was a kiss she'd never known before.
It was the most intimate of kisses. She gloried in it. She opened for him and pushed herself against him as he knelt before her, put his mouth on her and drove her higher and higher, to the top of some magical, mythical cliff.
She hovered there, moaning. And then she fell, a falling that was also a soaring, out and over, higher and higher, into an explosion of heat and light. She cried out once, a long, keening sound.
And then she slowly relaxed, feeling that the whole, beautiful world lay beneath her, ready to fold her against its heart as she drifted slowly, sweetly down.
Jared stood, kissing his way back up her body, as she returned to the real world. He pressed himself against her. She felt the wiry roughness of his chest hairs, the heat of his skin, the hardness pushing at the juncture of her thighs. He smelled of that soap of his that she liked and of the smoke from the bar, and of himself, a man-scent, slightly musky with desire.
His mouth covered hers. She tasted herself. She was boneless and liquid, hardly knowing how she remained upright, except that his hard body held her there against the wall.
He said against her lips, "I want you now. You're ready for me now. Open and soft. Now, Eden. Now…"
She said the only word she knew right then. "Yes."
He cupped her bottom and brought her up against him again. She wrapped her legs around his hips and she felt him, against her entrance, straining at her with his own readiness. He carried her that way, over to the bed.
He laid her down, then came down quickly with her. Then he fumbled for a moment with a condom. When that was done, he poised himself above her.
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