“I told him I was leaving him. He went crazy.”
“Not as crazy as I went when he told me I was too late. That you were dead.” He covered the shaking in his hand by stroking her hair. “I snapped his worthless neck when he tried to stop me and went in after you.”
“He told you I was dead?”
“Yes.” The light had gone out of his world in that second. Even Cougar hadn’t been able to hold him back. He’d needed to see for himself, to touch her one last time, wanting to howl right along with Danny at the thought of her loss.
“And you still came in after me?”
He gave up trying to cover the trembling. He cupped her cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb over her lips, holding her close, remembering the agony, the searing heat, the despair when he’d entered that inferno, knowing no one could survive that heat, but unable to bear the thought of her soft body turning to ash.
“I couldn’t let you burn.”
“You could have been killed.”
“I wasn’t leaving without you.” He hadn’t thought he’d be leaving at all until Cougar had chopped through the back wall providing an escape route. He hadn’t cared either. He wasn’t letting her leave this world scared and alone.
“I love you.” Jenna’s eyes filled with tears. She touched the scars on his chest.
“Does this mean you might work up to forgiving me?” He hugged her to him carefully, everything inside of him strained to the breaking point with the most fragile of hopes.
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
There was—a hell of a lot,—and he knew it.
“I murdered your first husband.” A God-fearing woman like Jenna couldn’t just forget about that.
“I know. And he tried to murder me. It might make me a bad person, but I’m glad you came, glad you got me out, but mostly, I’m very, very glad that you took me for yourself.” Her hand on his chest was infinitely soothing.
As if it had only been waiting for this moment, all the emotion he’d ever denied welled in a surge for freedom. He choked it back as Jenna stoked his chest, took a breath and then whispered, “I used to pray to God to give me the strength to get through every day.” She touched the middle of the scar on his chest. “Sometimes, when it was really bad, I’d pray that He’d send an angel to take me away.
“He sent me you.” Her finger followed a scar up over his collarbone to press against the pulse in the hollow of his throat.
He pulled back, took a shuddering breath and stroked her temple. “You think I’m an answer to a prayer?”
She shook her head, her hair rustling against his thigh.
“I think you’re a dream come true. A man who sees me for what I am, and loves me anyway.”
“It’s not hard to love perfect.” He traced the blue vein showing through her pale white skin. She was so fragile and yet so strong. Beautiful and sweet. Everything a man could ever desire. And she loved him. To his dying day, he’d never get over the miracle of that.
“I agree.” She shifted up on his thigh so that her breath misted his cock, her gaze meeting his. “Which is why you shouldn’t have any trouble understanding why I love you.”
“You’re a wonder, Jenna.” He’d never understand why she loved him, but he’d go to his grave humbled by it.
She wrapped her hand back around him, and shook her head, amusement and patience in her gaze, as she corrected him, “We’re wonderful together.”
“I don’t deserve you.” He touched the corner of her mouth.
“But you’ll take me anyway?” Her smile was a lush mix of gentleness and passion.
“Hell, yes!” He was grateful, not stupid She blew a stream of air across the tip of his cock. He jerked as the flickering sensation traveled to his balls, pulling them tight before joining the white-hot bolts of need blazing out from the base of his spine. His drawl was a rough parody of what he wanted as he said, “Sunshine, you’re playing with fire.”
She laughed, flashing those dimples at him, laughing longer when his cock jumped and grew in her hand, running her tongue over her lips as a bead of come welled.
“I like the way you want me,” she whispered with that honesty of hers that drove him crazy. She pumped him gently in her hand, treating him to the silky glide of her hair interspersed with the teasing softness of her skin. “I like the way you let me touch you.” She leaned forward and lapped the bead of moisture from the winking slit, taking a long time to accomplish the job. He knew that she knew what the sight of that delicate pink tongue of hers moving over his cock head did to his insides.
“Witch,” he muttered.
“Wife,” she corrected, before taking his seed inside her mouth, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, as if savoring his flavor, smiling as she swallowed.
His heart stopped, reconsidered and then charged to a gallop, thundering in his chest as she opened those eyes and leaned forward again, her expression one of impish determination.
“Sunshine, we agreed, no play tonight.”
“I’m not playing.” She pumped his cock through her hand, working it up and over as she did so until it lay across his thigh, pointing directly at her, throbbing in an agony of anticipation.
She rested her cheek on his thigh. He moved his hand down to the side of her neck so he could see her expression as she milked him in easy, lazy motions that teased and burned when he wanted to thrust and come. A tiny smile played on her lips as his cock twitched and stretched in a plea that echoed the fire searing under his skin. There was the slightest of tension around her eyes, which from experience he knew meant that she was unsure about something.
“What do you want, baby?”
She blinked and the skin on her cheeks stained dark.
“Haven’t you learned by now that there isn’t anything you could tell me that I don’t want to hear?” He tested the heat in her cheek with his thumb. She was hot, flushed, and hungry. Just the way he liked her. He just didn’t know for what.
“I want to love you,” she whispered, still staring at his cock with that hungry longing.
“How?”
“Slowly.” She touched the tip of her finger to the tip of his shaft. “With my heart.”
“Son of a bitch!” He was in danger of coming from her touch.
“You won’t mind?” Her eyes flashed at him.
“Try me and see.”
She took him at his word, delicately testing him with her tongue. Easing her lips around the tip, she sipped at him as if this were a moment she longed to draw out. Savor. As if loving him was the best thing in life. Exactly the way he felt when he had her under him, listening to her whimper in pleasure, knowing no one gave her what he did.
Against the heel of his hand, her jaw pushed as she worked the sensitive head past her teeth, bathing him in liquid heat, welcoming him home.
“Sunshine?” She looked up, her expression one of loving contentment and passion. He traced her lips as they stretched around him, the smile starting way down deep inside. “I’m still not forgetting I owe you a beating.”
Her answering smile showed in her eyes. And then, slowly—so slowly that he didn’t know what was going on at first—she turned on his lap, tucked her knees under her, and called his bluff.
He laughed through his lust, remembering when she would have cowered at the threat, and brought his hand gently down on the right cheek, just under the bruise from Mark’s abuse.
Jenna smiled around the thick wedge of his cock before working him free, and catching his throbbing cock in her hand as she arched into his touch. “If you beat me, I won’t wear my new dress to the social,” she warned.
“You won’t?” He arched his brow at her.
“Nope, and it’s scandalously low-cut. Shows off everything I’ve got.” Her smile was butter soft as she said it. His mouth went dry and a spurt of come slipped past his control. Her everything was damned impressive. She caught the small spill on her palm, smoothing it back into his skin with a purr. It took
him two shuddering breaths to find his voice.
“What makes you think I want you wearing a dress like that?”
“Because,” her tongue stroked over his cock in a slow, burning pass. Her smile was pure womanly confidence. “I’ll let you,” she paused to suck delicately at the little slit, dragging another drop of come past his control, “only you…take it off when we get home.”
Love laced with desire trapped his laugh in his throat. He wanted to see her like that, dancing at the social, head up, shoulders back, teasing him with those gorgeous breasts and his own desire, confident in herself and her power. He cupped her cheek in his palm, holding her gaze with his, smoothing his thumb over her dimples, letting her love pour over him, filling all those empty places he’d thought forever barren—catching it, magnifying it, and reflecting it back, loving her beyond sense and reason. Needing her more than he needed his next breath.
“Guess I’ll be holding off on that beating for awhile.”
Her “I thought you might” rolled over his passion in a hot breath of laughter.
She was light to his dark. Sweet to his bitter. Soft to his hard. He traced her smile. She was his complete opposite. Open and honest. She held nothing back, giving him all that she was, expecting nothing in return. Just hoping.
It was that hope that was doing him in. Had been since the day he’d met her. It had steadily hammered at the wall around his emotions until all it would take was one word from her, and he’d be defenseless.
He pulled her up carefully, settling her across his lap, only to discover that she didn’t need a word. She just needed to wrap her arms around his neck, offering herself, her comfort, her unquestioning acceptance of whatever he needed.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in the faint scent of roses and woman, not recognizing the sting in his eyes for what it was until her whispered “I love you” slammed through the barricade around his emotions, tearing it down with one unguarded truth until there was nothing left to hide behind. Nothing left to shield either of them.
Emotion poured over him in an unfamiliar wave—relief, fear, joy—and love welled out of the dark place where he’d buried it so long ago. So much love that it swamped him in a shattering revelation of everything he’d tried to deny. He tugged her closer when she would have arched away, holding her tightly as the reality of what loving Jenna really meant crashed through his carefully formed plans. As long as Jenna was his wife, he’d never experience the peace that came from containing emotion. Jenna would demand everything from him, every thought, every feeling. With her, he’d experience life in all its highs and lows. He’d be vulnerable in ways he had yet to comprehend, and that scared the shit out of him.
But nothing scared him as much as the thought of living without her. His sweet, giving Jenna who even now was pushing back to see his face, ready to take on his demons, armed with nothing more than the strength of her love. Son of a bitch, she had such courage.
“What is it Clint?”
He shook his head, not trusting his voice.
As if she sensed how close he was to breaking, Jenna’s hand paused over his heart, pressing reassuringly, steadying him with her touch alone, quelling the desperate flood of emotion that was drowning him, seeming to take it into herself until he could breathe again.
“Whatever it is Clint,” she said, her soft blue eyes meeting his, “I can handle it.”
She was a living, breathing miracle. And she loved him. He rested his forehead against hers, easing her chest into his, letting their breath mingle as he said, “I know you can.”
He cupped her head in his hands and tilted her face for the descent of his mouth, brushing his lips over hers once, twice before smiling into her eyes as he gave her what he’d never give another—his heart, his trust, and his faith.
“I love you, Sunshine.”
About the author:
Sarah has traveled extensively throughout her life, living in other cultures, sometimes in areas where electricity was a concept awaiting fruition and a book was an extreme luxury. While she could easily adjust to the lack of electricity, living without the comfort of a good book was intolerable. To fill the void, she bought pencil and paper and sketched out her own story, and in the process, discovered the joy of writing. She's been at it ever since.
htpp://www.sarahmccarty.com
Sarah welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, OH 44224.
Also by Sarah McCarty:
Mac’s Law
Promises Linger
Promises Keep
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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