The Darling Songbirds

by Rachael Herron

  For a ridiculous moment, she wanted him to stay just like that, pressing his weight against her.

  Then he was out of the bathroom, and the coldness of the water soaked through to her skin, and she came back to her senses. Another minute later, the pipe clunked under her hand as the pressure was cut off. She slid backward, still in the tub, and took a deep breath.

  Footsteps slammed up the stairs. ‘Did it work? Are you okay?’

  She could only laugh.

  Nate entered. ‘Good, we got it. I didn’t know you meant it was that loose. I can help you fix it tomorrow.’

  Adele laughed harder. She was chilled, the cold water turning the layer of dirt on her skin to mud.

  Nate’s expression did something between a grimace and a grin. ‘Here. Let me help you out.’

  He took her hands in his, and pulled. She stood, and then, with his help, stepped out of the tub. She dripped onto the hardwood floor. She hiccuped around another laugh, and then her teeth started chattering.

  ‘You’re freezing.’

  She wasn’t. She was cold, but that wasn’t why her teeth were clacking against each other. Adele was a bundle of nerves all of a sudden, her arms and legs shaking. It was a combination of exhaustion mixed with the tension of being so close to the man in front of her.

  He didn’t let go of her hands. ‘We need to get you out of these clothes.’

  His voice. That’s what did it. Not the darkening of his eyes, the way his face looked over hers. Not the way he held her hands, tightly, like he’d catch her if she fell. It was his voice, that roughened, weather-beaten voice. We need to get you out of these clothes.

  And Adele made a decision that was instant and probably very, very wrong in the long term. But this minute, the one that stretched out taut in front of her, was the short term. That was all. Embracing the moment. Molly would applaud her.

  ‘Will you help me?’ she asked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Nate just assumed he’d misunderstood her. ‘With the pipes? Yeah. Of course.’

  A blush lit her cheeks and she closed her eyes for a brief second. Then she opened them, and she looked at him. She gazed into him. Her voice was soft, almost worried. ‘I meant, with my clothes.’ She stared down at herself. ‘Oh, ever-loving Patsy Cline. What am I doing?’ She pulled back her hands and rubbed at a particularly large patch of wet dirt right over the soft swell of her belly.

  ‘Adele –’

  ‘I’m disgusting.’

  She was anything but. Even covered in dirt, she was gorgeous. Her wet green shirt clung to her breasts, showing tightly budded nipples under her thin bra. Her hair was a wild, dripping tangle. There wasn’t a more beautiful sight in the state; he would wager every cent of his savings on that.

  Then she gave that laugh again, the one that made him feel like he was drinking champagne. Fizzed, happy bubbles. ‘I need a shower.’

  He looked at the tub with confusion. ‘Well, that’s not going to be easy.’

  ‘My room has water.’ She said the words fast and then covered her face with her hands.

  ‘Oh.’ His IQ had just lowered into single digits.

  She parted her fingers, peeking at his reaction. ‘Race you.’

  Then she darted around him, running for the door.

  It was a dare.

  And damn, he’d always loved a dare.

  Her feet were light on the porch, pattering down the staircase. It was fully dark now, only a dull red glow from the setting sun at the water’s edge, and the only lights were the white ones twinkling upward from the arbour below. More strands of the lights lit their way through the rose walkway to the hotel, but Nate would bet both of them could run this path wearing blindfolds.

  He’d never run it with his heart pounding this hard, though.

  This was a bad idea. This had to be a bad idea. He couldn’t sleep with Adele Darling. He needed to get her out of town. This was the wrong way to do it, not to mention the fact that she was grieving. It would be taking advantage of her, pretty much the opposite of what he usually aimed to do for a woman.

  Still, he chased her laughter through the dark.

  By the time he reached the door that had been his for years, she was inside. The door to the bathroom stood open.

  Her laughter had stopped, abruptly.

  He took three more wide steps forward. She would be changing her mind. Of course.

  What the hell were they doing?

  ‘It’s okay,’ he started to say. ‘We can just –’

  But then he could see her. Adele stood in the middle of the small bathroom, the side of her face lit only by the moonlight coming through the open window. Her fingers rested lightly on the waistband of her jeans. Her voice was serious. ‘Is this a bad idea?’

  Nate shook his head once. ‘No.’ Then he nodded. ‘Definitely.’

  That same small sideways smile crept across her face. She kicked off her shoes, sending them flying past him, one at a time. ‘I agree.’ She undid the button on the fly of her jeans. ‘So I’m just going to get in that shower. You can either leave, watch, or join. Your pick.’

  Well, there was only one answer to that. Nate shucked his boots and stepped forward. The bathroom had been small enough when he’d been the only one taking showers in it. ‘You know I’m an environmentalist, right?’ He pulled off his shirt and then tugged the bottom of hers upward. She gasped as the cold, wet fabric moved against her skin.

  ‘You are?’

  ‘Sure. I’m a very concerned citizen.’ Nate pulled the shirt over her head. The bra that he’d been able to make out through the cloth turned out to be cream-coloured lace, a shade lighter than her skin. He shivered, and it wasn’t because of the cold. ‘El Niño aside, there is a severe drought in California. Every drop counts.’

  ‘Oh.’ She reached behind her back to unclasp the bra. ‘Yes, you’re right.’

  ‘Conservation is key.’

  ‘Conversation, yes. I mean, conservation. Key.’ She dropped the bra, and Nate felt his brain stutter and then stall. Her breasts were full and round, larger than they looked in her clothes. Her nipples were dark and tight. She had goosebumps all over her skin, and he saw the same shiver he’d just felt rock through her. He put an arm around her, pulling her hard against him. She expected him to kiss her, he could tell by the way she angled her head, but instead, he moved his mouth down, bending her back so that his arm was supporting her, so that his mouth was right over that perfect left breast.

  He breathed out. All of the warmth in his lungs, he gave to her nipple. He did it again. Three times. Above him, tilted backward, her own breathing quickened. Then he took another breath and did the same to the other one. He didn’t lick – he didn’t touch. He held her and he warmed her.

  Adele gave a little moan and gripped his head with her hands. ‘Please. Shower. Not clean.’

  It was funny. She wasn’t clean, that was true. Her skin smelled like soap, and her hair smelled like sweet alyssum, but she also smelled like hard work. Sweat. Metal and grime. She smelled like a woman who could roll up her sleeves and work hard as hell to do something difficult, and he’d never smelled anything as sexy before.

  But she was cold. Nate straightened slowly, bringing her up with him. He kept his mouth an inch from hers and reached around her to turn on the shower. Her breathing was shallow. So was his. He could almost – almost – taste her. And it made him move even slower. He wanted to prolong the moment, wanted to keep from kissing her as long as he could. It felt like a test.

  A test he wasn’t going to mind failing.

  The shower water heated. Their breath still commingled, he slid his hands down between them and finished undoing her fly. Then he undid his own. Still very carefully not kissing her, he pushed down her jeans, then his. Their underwear next.

  He was so hard he was almost scared to touch her. He was so ready that if she’d wrapped a leg around him, he would lose his damn mind and maybe several other things, and what kind of a
jerk-off would that make him? No, this woman deserved a really good warm-up.

  Literally. Her teeth were chattering again.

  Stepping around her, Nate adjusted the faucets so the water was piping hot. Then, holding both her hands, he backed through the water until he was against the cold tile on the other side and she was right under the showerhead. Adele stood in the rush of the water, her eyes closed, her mouth open. Her hair was dark and long, slicked to her breasts. Completely unable to help himself, he reached forward to touch a nipple, slicking the water from it. He would control himself. His body was ravenous, desperate for her. But he could hold himself back. They could go at her pace.

  Adele’s eyes opened.

  Then she leaned forward and her water-sleek lips kissed his, hard, and Nate lost the second-to-last shred of control he had.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Adele couldn’t decide which was hotter, the feeling of his mouth against hers or the heat of his cock against her stomach, hard as rock and slippery with the soap on her skin. While his mouth ravaged hers, his tongue against hers, his teeth tugging at her lips, his hands ran the bar of lavender soap over her skin. It was an excuse; that’s all the soap was. She was past the point of caring whether or not she was clean. But when he turned her around, keeping his mouth on her neck, so that he could soap her back and her ass and then all the way down her legs and back up, when he teased her with the soap, getting a finger’s width away from the vee between her legs, she threw her head so far back she inhaled a mouthful of water.

  And that made her laugh.

  And her laughing made him laugh, and the sound of him, that rumbling low quaking that poured into her via the kiss that she didn’t ever want to break, was like nothing she’d ever heard. If she could put that sound into a love song, it would be the last love song anyone ever had to write.

  He felt perfect, and it scared her. His arms fit around her, and he knew how to kiss her so thoroughly she forgot which way was up. If the shower hadn’t been pounding down on her, she would have floated up, right to the ceiling.

  But the shower wasn’t the pounding she needed.

  ‘You missed a spot,’ she whispered in his ear.

  ‘Mmm.’ It was both an acknowledgement and a threat. He slid the soap down between her breasts and then rubbed it between his hands. He put the soap on the ledge of the tub, and then slicked his hands against the swollen part of her. Quickly and efficiently – devastatingly – he washed her. She was shaking by the time he said, ‘Now you’re all nice and clean.’

  I don’t want to be nice. Or clean. But she couldn’t say it. Just the very act of telling him he could join (or watch) her in the shower had freaked her out enough for one day. Adele was normally brave enough in matters of sex, but this felt bigger somehow.

  Well, damn it, he felt bigger, anyway. She wrapped her hand around his cock, softly, sliding her fingers down to its base. Nate put his head back against the tiles and groaned.

  ‘I have a better idea.’ She trailed kisses down his chest, the water beating against her shoulders and back. She took the tip of his shaft into her mouth. His hands rested lightly on the top of her head and this time his groan sounded almost pained. She placed the flat of her hands against the backs of his thighs and tasted him with long slow strokes of her tongue. He pulsed in her mouth, and pressed his hips forward. She took him as deeply as she could, then backed off, and then took him deep again.

  ‘Adele,’ Nate warned, his voice tight, ‘you have to stop.’

  She took his cock out of her mouth, her hands still wrapped around the shaft and peered up at him, blinking rapidly through the water. ‘Or what?’

  ‘Oh, God.’ Nate hit the shower handle. ‘Out. Where’s your towel?’

  He sounded so panicked Adele laughed, a bubble of joy at the top of her lungs. ‘Right there, on the rack. But now I’m curious as to where you keep them.’

  Nate grabbed the towel so fast the rack rattled. He dragged it harshly and haphazardly across her body, then his.

  ‘You’re not really very good at this whole drying thing,’ she teased. She saw his jaw clench. Knowing she was the cause of his tension was a delicious, heady feeling.

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ Nate kissed her then, hard. She leaned into him, pushing her hips against his. They gasped against each other. ‘I’d better show you what I’m good at, huh?’

  ‘Big words.’

  ‘From a big man.’ His voice was teasingly echoing her tone, but there was nothing wrong about his statement. His cock, like his shoulders and thighs and jawline, was wide and long. It was so hot it almost burned to her touch.

  Bed. In her bed, now. God, no, it was his bed. The thought was a confused jumble in her mind, and she didn’t care. She needed him in her, as strong a need as she’d ever had in her life.

  ‘Protection,’ she muttered, diving for her purse and digging through it. Surely she had an old condom in the pocket where she kept her headphones and spare pencils.

  ‘I have one here,’ he said, popping open the Martin’s case. ‘Jackpot!’ From under a capo and a tuner, he pulled a small cardboard box.

  ‘Guitar players,’ Adele said. And she laughed again. That was surprising her the most – usually when she had sex with someone for the first time, she was nervous. She wanted to get things right. And with Nate God knew she didn’t want to get things wrong. But she wasn’t worried.

  This was just plain fun. Maybe it was because she was exhausted. Maybe it was because she’d spent the last three days doing nothing but hard, backbreaking work and she needed something pleasurable. Maybe it was because Nate’s stubbled cheek was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, but being with him was just fun, plain and simple.

  She took the condom from him, and unwrapped it. She went to her knees again, this time on carpet, and rolled it onto him. Carefully. Slowly. His left hand had a slight tremor now, she noticed, and it felt like she’d won a prize at the fair. She grinned up at him. ‘There. Now. You were going to show me something.’

  With a noise that was more roar than any word she could identify, Nate came at her as if she’d unleashed him. He lifted her off the ground, his mouth claiming hers. He dropped her on her back on the bed and then moved to put himself between her legs. Adele lifted her hips, but he shook his head and moved himself away. ‘My speed now,’ he said.

  She whimpered as he moved down her body, grazing her skin with his teeth, with his tongue. When he reached her centre, he unfolded her with his fingers, blowing gently, following the air kiss with a real one. She gave a sharp cry as he slid a single finger inside her and let his tongue lap her clit.

  ‘Please,’ she said, but she wasn’t sure what she was asking for or if he could give it to her.

  He didn’t stop, and he didn’t slow. If anything, his tongue picked up speed, and he pressed another finger into her wetness. Adele’s teeth started chattering again, lightly. Her whole body shook. He raised her higher and higher, and then, right when she was on the very edge of coming, he slid yet another finger inside her and curled his hand, keeping his tongue striking, beating against her. She came so hard and so fast it felt like something broke inside her, crashing to the ground. Unexpected tears came to her eyes. ‘Oh,’ she said when she could breathe again. ‘Oh.’

  Nate slid up her body, keeping his hand in contact with her, skimming her hips, her stomach, her breast, her neck. He stayed on his side, his fingers touching her jaw gently, then her nose. ‘Are you okay? Shit, are you crying? Adele …’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. She was. She was so fine.

  But she was in no way done.

  Adele kissed him.

  She could taste herself on his lips, and the mixture of salt and sweet went right to her head. He tried to say something, but the twisted noise only came halfway out of his mouth.

  Then, because she couldn’t help herself, and wouldn’t have been able to even if she’d wanted to, she swung her leg over his body. She planted the flats of both her hands on hi
s chest.

  ‘Are you –’

  She didn’t know how he planned to end the sentence. Are you sure? Are you ready?

  It didn’t matter. She wanted him. He wanted her. And instead of being tangled up in her own thoughts, she could only think of one thing, and it was him.

  Just him.

  She kissed him again. ‘Yes.’ It was a whisper against his mouth. He blinked once, slowly. Then he lifted his hips against her as she pushed down. Her slickness took the entirety of his length into her body in one hard thrust. She stilled – full. So full. ‘Wait,’ she gasped. ‘Just give me a minute.’

  One minute, to adjust to this feeling of – what was it? He was so big that he stretched her, but that wasn’t what she needed a second to process.

  Adele needed to push back the tears that were starting again. It felt like …

  It felt like coming home.

  And she hadn’t done that in a really long time.

  Nate raised a hand to her cheek, cupping it. She could tell by the way the muscles in his neck were corded that he wasn’t breathing any better than she was. ‘We can stop. We can do whatever you want.’ She felt his thumb brush the top of her cheekbone. ‘Do you want to stop?’

  That was the last thing she wanted. She shook her head, hard. One teardrop fell to his chest, a tear she barely understood.

  ‘This.’ She moved against him. ‘This.’

  Nate’s eyes stayed on hers. She moved, slowly at first. And honestly, it would have been fine if his gaze had drifted lower, to her breasts, to what her body was doing, where their bodies were meeting with such heat and wetness and intensity. But his eyes stayed fixed to hers, and nothing had ever made her feel as sexy, ever.

  Faster, then. She sat all the way up, and his hands gripped her hips, lifting her, drawing her back down. The heat rose, red flames flashing up through her till she thought the top of her head might catch fire. Faster, more, harder.

  He was pumping into her now as much as she was riding him. She lost her balance, dizzy with lust, with heat, and fell forward onto his chest. Instead of repositioning her back up on him, Nate locked her mouth into a kiss – plundering her mouth with his tongue as they moved. He wrapped his arm around her low back and rolled, staying inside her.