Leaving the candle behind in the kitchen, he made his way through the dark house, his familiarity with her parents’ home guiding his steps. Once inside her bedroom, he pushed the door shut with his foot, in case Runt decided to follow, and continued on to her bed. He laid her down, then stretched out alongside her.
In the darkness he couldn’t see her face, didn’t need to in order to know that somewhere along the short walk from the kitchen to her bedroom her hesitancy had returned. He could all but feel the years that lay between them, all the days and months, stacked one on top of the other, in which she had clung to her resentment toward him, shored up a wall around her heart that he had only just begun to believe he could tear down. He had the power to seduce her. He knew that. He’d proven it in the kitchen only moments before. But he couldn’t allow his physical needs to destroy whatever chance he might still have with her.
Placing a hand on her cheek, he turned her face to his. “You’ll never know how much I’ve missed you,” he said softly. “How many nights I’ve dreamed of touching you and holding you like this.” He drew in a deep breath, anxious to make her understand how he truly felt. “But it’s so much more than the sex. I’ve missed you, Steph. Your laughter, your smile. The way you always seemed to know exactly what I needed, whether it was a swift quick in the seat of the pants or a tight hug of encouragement. The hours we spent talking. And the times we spent in silence, content just to be together.”
He caught her hand and drew it to his lips. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you right now. But more than the sexual release and pleasure that would give me—hopefully both of us—I need you. Back in my life, back in my heart. When we make love again, Steph, I want you to want me as much as I want you. I don’t want there to be any regrets.”
He heard her breath hitch and he swept his thumb across her cheek to catch the tear that fell. “Don’t cry, Steph.” He slipped his arm beneath her and drew her to him, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Just let me hold you. That’s all I’ll do, I swear, is just hold you.”
Steph awakened and stretched her legs out, while wisps of sensations and emotions floated through her mind. Her eyes still closed, she separated each, naming them. Warmth. Tenderness. Comfort. Security. Lust. She stiffened at the latter and tried to remember if she’d had a dream that would explain why she’d wake with that particular thought on her mind.
Wade, she realized slowly as the events of the previous night returned. He’d aroused her with his seductive words, his lips, his touch. Even as she remembered the way his mouth had felt on her breast, the tremble of desire he’d drawn, she had to squeeze her thighs tight against the ache that throbbed to life deep in her womb.
She remembered, too, the trepidation that had grown inside her with each step he’d taken that had brought them closer to her bedroom. Distrust. It was such an ugly and debilitating word, one that she had lived with for far too many years. But as hard as she’d tried to banish it from her mind, it was always there in her subconscious, keeping her from giving her heart to any man—even, it seemed, the one responsible for planting the seed inside her in the first place.
But he’d claimed that he had suffered as much as she. And, if he was to be believed, he was still suffering. Remembering how he’d pulled her into his arms, telling her that he wanted only to hold her, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the warmth and sense of security she’d found there.
Stiffening, she flipped her eyes open, suddenly wide-awake. Was he still here with her? she wondered. In her bed? Holding her breath, she dropped a hand behind her and groped. When her fingers met only cool sheets, she slowly brought her hand back to curl beneath her cheek, swallowing back the disappointment at finding him gone.
And why would you be sad about that? she asked herself. You should be relieved that he left. You don’t need this, she reminded herself. You’ve got enough drama going on in your life without adding Wade to the mix.
With a sigh she flipped back the covers, preparing to get up, but froze when a piece of paper fluttered up from the pillow next to hers and drifted slowly out of sight on the far side of the bed. Making a dive for it, she flattened her stomach against the mattress and caught it before it hit the floor. Her heart in her throat, she sat up, bracing her back against the headboard and read.
Good morning, Sunshine. Sorry to leave without waking you, but you were sleeping so soundly I hated to disturb you, figuring you needed the rest. I’ll be back around noon to drop off another bundle of letters. If you want, after I check on the cattle, I can stay for a while and help you pack. Wade
She shifted her gaze to read the first line again, and a warm glow slowly spread through her chest. Sunshine. It was a nickname he’d used often the summer they’d met. Surprised that he would remember the endearment, she sank back against her pillow and stared out the window, her thoughts growing pensive as she wondered where all this was going.
Judging by the passionate scene in the kitchen the previous night, she had to believe that he was hoping they could be more than friends.
But she wasn’t sure she could offer him anything more than friendship. He’d destroyed her trust, hurt her more than words could ever describe. How did a person get over that kind of pain, humiliation? Was it even possible? Forgiving was one thing, forgetting another. And if she couldn’t forget, what was the point in getting involved with him again? Even if she were willing to agree to a strictly physical relationship, the past would always be there between them.
She shivered, remembering the way his mouth had felt on her breast, the desperate need that had burned through her body, leaving her weak and wanting. He had been right in saying that they’d been good together. They had been good together—though she had to give all the credit to Wade. She’d yet to meet the man who could satisfy her the way he once had. He had always seemed to understand her needs better than she did herself, knowing what pleased her, the areas of her body that were most sensitive, when she craved speed and when she preferred a slow seduction…and when she needed him to stop altogether.
He’d recognized the latter the previous night. Without her having to say a word, he’d somehow known that at some point between the kitchen and bedroom the ugly doubts had arisen, making her question what they were doing and whether or not she should allow things to go any further. Before she had even reached a decision, he’d removed her need to do so by voicing her fears aloud and refusing to make love with her until she could do so without regret.
She drew in a shuddery breath and slowly released it. How in the heck was a woman supposed to deal with a man like that? she asked herself. One who knew her fears as well as she did, then offered her his understanding and patience while she dealt with them?
Hearing Steph’s faint call of, “The door’s open,” Wade stepped inside.
“I’m back here!”
Since her voice was coming from the rear of the house, he assumed by “here” she meant one of the bedrooms. Taking the shortcut through the dining room, he glanced around and was surprised to find the table was clear and all the boxes were stacked neatly against one wall.
He stuck his head into the guest room and found her standing on a ladder inside the closet, her head hidden from view. She was wearing shorts, and the view of her long, tanned legs and bare feet put a knot of need in his groin. Puffing his cheeks, he blew out a long breath to steady himself, then tossed the bundle of letters onto the bed. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“And then some,” came her weary reply. She backed down the ladder, balancing a stack of shoe boxes on the palm of one hand. Reaching the floor, she steadied the stack with her opposite hand and stooped to set them on the floor. Straightening, she blew a breath at the wisps of hair that had escaped the ponytail she’d pulled her hair into, then smiled. “But I’m making progress. I finished the dining room and now I’m working in here.”
He looked around at the piles that covered the floor, amazed by the amount of junk she’d unearthe
d. “Where did all this stuff come from?”
She hooked her thumb over her shoulder at the closet. “In there. Can you believe Mom was able to cram all that junk in that small a space?”
He picked up a doll that lay on the foot of the bed. A black hole gleamed from the space where an eye should have been, and blond hair frizzed from its scalp. He lifted a brow. “Yours?”
Smiling fondly, she took the doll from him. “This is Maddy. I wagged her around from the age of three to about seven or eight, I think.”
“What happened to her eye?”
“One of Bud’s dogs got a hold of her and popped it out.”
“The dog get her hair, too?”
She shook her head and attempted to smooth the wild tufts. “No, that was my doing. I thought she’d look better with a short hairstyle.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Remind me to never get near you when you’ve got a pair of scissors in your hand.”
Chuckling, she laid the doll on the dresser. “Coward.”
In her reflection in the dresser mirror he watched her smile slowly fade and knew by the creases that appeared between her brows that something was bothering her.
“About last night,” she began uneasily.
Not wanting to have that particular discussion with her halfway across the room, he stretched to catch her hand and tugged her over to sit down beside him. “What about last night?”
She glanced at him, then away, her cheeks flaming a bright red. “I’m sure that you must think I’m giving off…”
When her voice trailed off, he bit back a smile. “Mixed signals?” he suggested.
She looked at him, then dropped her chin and nodded. “One minute I’m stiff-arming you and the next I’m, well, I’m—”
“Melting into a puddle of rapturous joy at my feet?”
She shot him a frown. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.”
Chuckling, he slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. “No need to get your panties in a twist. I was just trying to make you laugh so you’d relax a little.”
She shot to her feet to pace. “That’s the problem. It’s way too easy to relax around you. So much so that I’m letting my guard down.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
She whirled to face him. “Yes, it’s a bad thing! You hurt me, and I can’t forget that.”
“But you’ve forgiven me.”
It was a statement, not a question, and she stared, realizing it was true. She didn’t know exactly when or even why, but she had forgiven him.
But what was the use of forgiving if she couldn’t forget? she found herself thinking again.
“Give yourself time,” he suggested as if he’d read her thoughts. “And me, too,” he added. He caught her hand and tugged her to stand between his legs. “I’m going to win back your trust,” he told her in a tone that left little doubt that he would succeed. Holding her gaze, he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “The burden is mine to prove, not yours.”
She blinked back tears at the depth of his determination, the tenderness with which he’d made the promise to win back her trust. Yet she couldn’t help questioning her sanity for her willingness to breathe so much as the same air as him after what he’d done to her.
Again as if reading her mind, he took her hands in his. “I’m not perfect, Steph. I’ve made my share of mistakes. But loving you was never one of ’em.”
Her face crumpling, she sank to his knee and dropped her forehead against his. “Oh, Wade,” she said miserably. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”
He turned her face up to his. “It doesn’t have to be. At least, not the part that deals with us. We were good together, good for each other. And we will be again.”
She lifted her head to search his eyes and knew by the warmth she found there that he was offering her a new beginning, one that she was finding difficult to refuse. He made it sound so simple, so easy. But was it really?
“Wade—”
He touched his lips to hers to silence her. “You don’t need to say anything. I’m not pushing for something you’re not ready to give.”
She closed her eyes, gulped. When she opened them and met his gaze, saw the warmth and understanding there, what little hesitancy that remained to hold her back slipped soundlessly away.
She lifted a hand to his cheek, her fingers trembling as she traced the lines that fanned from the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to push. I’m more than ready.”
He stared, as if not trusting his ears. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she murmured and touched her lips to his.
Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. With an urgency that left her head spinning and her heart racing, he stripped off her blouse, her bra, then twisted her around on his lap and fitted her knees on either side of his thighs.
“Sweet heaven,” he murmured as his gaze settled on her breasts. He filled his hands with their softness. “So beautiful.” Sweeping his hands around to settle beneath them, he lifted and placed a kiss on each peak. He tipped up his head to meet her gaze and stroked his thumbs over her nipples. “Exactly as I remember them, perfect in every way.”
Knowing it wasn’t true, she shook her head. “You’re a wonderful liar, but age and gravity have taken their toll.”
“Perfect,” he insisted, then teased her with a smile. “I think I’m the better judge.”
She tipped her head, willing to concede the point, then gasped as he closed his mouth over a nipple. Dropping her head back, she clung to his head. “Wade,” she said, his name rushing out on thready sigh, then gasped again as he caught the nipple between his teeth and tugged gently. “Oh, Wade,” she groaned and knotted her fingers in his hair.
Desperate to have her hands on him, she reached for his shirt and fumbled open buttons. Halfway down, she grew impatient and shoved the plackets apart and sank against him to press her lips against the middle of his chest. She inhaled once, released it with a contented sigh, then inhaled again and held the breath, absorbing his male scent.
Dizzy from it, she braced her hands against his chest and began a slow journey of exploration, smoothing her palms over the swell of muscled chest, down, her fingers bumping over each rib, then bringing her hands together at the waist of his jeans. Finding the snap, she released it and eased the zipper down.
With her lungs burning for air, her chest heaving with her attempts to fill them, she found his mouth with hers and freed his sex. It sprang from the restraining clothing and filled her hands. Marveling at the feel of silk-sheathed steel, she stroked her fingers down its length until the heel of her hand bumped the nest of coarse hair at its base. She released a shuddery breath against his lips and stroked upward, gathering her fingers at its tip and swirling her thumb over the pearl of moisture there.
With a groan he fell back, bringing her with him, and toed off his boots, his socks, then, one-handed, stripped off his jeans and underwear. Letting his clothing fall to the floor, he dragged her up his body and captured her mouth again. He kissed her with an urgency that fed her own need, yet with a tenderness that twisted her heart.
Noonday sun shone through the windows at either side of the bed, filling the room with bright sunlight. Though she would’ve preferred candlelight to mask the changes age had left on her body, Stephanie was grateful for the illumination, as it provided her the ability to see Wade’s face, the muscled lines of his body her hands traced. With each glide of flesh over flesh, the years fell away, leaving in their place the familiarity she’d once known with this man, the ease they’d once shared.
Desperate to have him inside her again, to experience the thrill of oneness she’d once known, she wiggled out of her shorts and panties, then positioned her knees on either side of his hips. Using her hand to guide him, she dragged his sex along her folds to moisten it, then positioned the tip at her opening. With her gaze on his, she drew i
n a deep breath, bracing herself, then plunged her hips down and took him in.
The sensations that ripped through her stole her breath and sent brilliant shards of white to explode behind her closed lids. His name became a fervent prayer for release she whispered as she pumped her hips against his. Again and again and again, until sweat beaded her upper lip, slicked her hands, making it all but impossible to keep them braced against his chest. The pressure built inside her, fed by a rising wave of need that gathered itself into a knot in her womb.
As if sensing her readiness, her need for satisfaction, Wade clamped his hands at her hips. “Come with me,” he said breathlessly, then set his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut. A low growl rose from deep inside him, then he exploded inside her, and the heat that pulsed from him sent her soaring high.
Her lungs heaving like bellows, her hands fisted against his chest, she hovered a moment, suspended on that needlelike peak of pain and pleasure, wanting more than anything to hold on in order to capture the feelings and emotions that filled her. Unable to stave off the sensations any longer, she toppled over the other side into satisfaction.
Weak, sated, she sank to his chest and buried her face in the curve of his neck, every nerve in her body quivering liked plucked strings. “Oh, Wade,” she whispered, unable to find the words to express the experience.
“Was it good?”
Inhaling, she stretched her toes out and curled her feet around his sweat-dampened calves. “Oh, yeah,” she said, releasing the breath on a contented sigh. “Better than good.”
Before she had time to draw another breath, she was on her back and he was on top of her, his face only inches from her.
“Honey, that was nothing but foreplay. What comes next ranks right up there with fantastic.”
Laughing, she laced her fingers behind his neck and brought his face down to hers. “Then show me what you’ve got, cowboy.”
A Piece of Texas Trilogy Page 7