He kissed her quiet, hand bracing her chin, tilting her head all the better to devour her with. Thank God he’d stopped her babbling. She’d already told him too much, but the words had come bursting out of their own volition. Her own, not Paul’s.
He tasted like chocolate, sweet and decadent. Decadent … had she ever felt like that before? She pressed her body up against his, feeling exactly how much he did want to love her. She perched herself up on her tiptoes and rubbed her pelvis back and forth against that evidence, reveling in the sound of pleasure (or was that agony?) that issued from his throat. His hands dropped from her face to slide down her throat and then over her breasts. His thumbs circled her peaks, sending electrical shocks straight to her lower region.
Her body was still trembling, but it was ripples of pleasure and anticipation. Like the way she’d felt watching Mitch play football, only one hundred times as much. She leaned close to his face, but when he tried to kiss her, she nipped his lower lip. He gave her a wicked look, then lunged forward and ran his tongue over her lips. She nibbled his chin, feeling the slight brush of his stubble. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth, making incredible sucking noises. She opened her mouth and started to kiss him, capturing his tongue and moving her mouth back and forth over the length of it. His eyes rolled shut, and he pulled her flush against his body with a growl.
A tiger unfurled inside her, unleashing every naughty thought she’d ever had, every sexual fantasy. She would never again settle for rote lovemaking. She’d tasted passion and she wanted more. She pushed him back on the bed, then climbed up and tugged his shirt out of his jeans. His bare, tan stomach moved with his breathing, and she couldn’t resist running her palm over the hard ridges. She leaned down and kissed his belly button, then ran her tongue over the soft hairs that led downward. She straddled his pelvis, unbuttoning his shirt.
“You’ve been hiding the wild side of yourself,” he said, laying back with his arms spread, perfectly comfortable with her ministrations and with being the object of her attention and admiration.
“From myself.” She fished the last button through its hole and flung his shirt open. “I want to see the colors again.” She leaned forward and kissed first one nipple, then the other. Well, now everything on his body was hard, everything except that fiery gleam in his brown eyes.
She ran her hands over his chest, marveling at the beauty of the male body. Perfectly sculpted, tan, skin soft, rib cage deep. She nipped his stomach, or what skin she could get to, then tried to pull his top snap open with her teeth. It took a few seconds, but she managed, then unzipped his jeans. He had to help get out of those, shimmying out of jeans and briefs at once. He started to lean forward and undress her, but she pushed him back again.
“Down, boy,” she said in a playful, tough voice.
He saluted her, falling back on the bed. Paul had been shy about his body. Mitch was a different story altogether, as usual. It wasn’t conceivable that a man should be this gorgeous, this perfect. That he should want her was even more preposterous. She took him in, every inch of him including the part of the male anatomy she’d never particularly found attractive anyway. But on Mitch … she shook her head, running her fingers over the hairs on his legs, feeling his muscles tighten in response.
When she trickled her fingers down the length of him, his entire body went rigid at once. She caressed the velvety tip of him, slippery with his essence. His hands splayed against the bed as she continued discovering him, every edge and ridge until he lunged up and twisted her around.
Suddenly she was the one lying beneath him. He didn’t take nearly so long to remove her clothing, but he did take his oh-my-god-i’m-going-to-die-if-he-doesn’t-stop-this-instant time being more tortuous than she had been. Using his mouth and his hands, he had her body arched and rigid, toes curled. And then she let herself go, completely, totally, riding-down-the-rainbow gone.
He hardly gave her time to catch her breath before starting again, sliding his finger through her wetness, bringing the shattering sensation back all over, and again, she was gone.
“How can that happen twice?” she whispered when she came back down, finding him watching her.
He slid up beside her, lying on his side, a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin on his face. “Dunno, but we could have a lot of fun trying to find out.”
“Ooh.” The thought of that shuddered right through her.
He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. “You want to drive?”
“Me? On top?” Of course she’d heard about women ‘being on top’, but she’d never tried it. “Yeah, I want to drive.”
The first time he’d slid inside her, she’d been tight. Now he fit perfectly, sliding into her wet warmth. They moved together, but she controlled the rhythm. He touched a place deep inside her, a place that felt sharp, though not painful. It felt strange, but wonderfully strange, and she arched her back and lost herself in that feeling.
He twined his hands with hers. “Jenna, say my name.”
Her eyes felt glazed, but she focused on his face, that gorgeous face, and said, “Mitch.”
“That’s my girl,” he said in a tight voice.
And that glorious sensation exploded inside her body, and she kept saying his name over and over. She was his girl. Every fiber screamed it, every blood cell, every skin follicle. As her body pulsed around him, she felt him explode, too, felt him fill her with him. His growl equaled what she felt inside, and he arched, pushing farther into her. His head was rocked back, throat exposed. Then his body went slack, and he let out a long, satisfied sound. His face was flushed, cheeks even pinker. He met her gaze, and his eyes looked as glassy as hers felt.
She smiled, feeling drunk and giddy. “I like driving.”
“You can drive anytime, babe.”
Those words hung in the air. Anytime, every time, one time, from here to eternity … what did they have? Before he could see the doubt creeping in, she carefully maneuvered herself so that she was lying on top of him, their bodies still connected intimately. She remembered how empty she’d felt when he had disengaged last time, though she couldn’t blame him. It seemed forever ago.
His chest was warm and damp where her cheek pressed against it. Their breathing was in sync, bodies bonded together. His arm was slung over her back, fingers brushing up and down the base of her spine.
She wanted to tell him that Paul hadn’t invaded her thoughts the way he had when Mitch kissed her the night before. She wanted to tell him that she was a little more sure she loved him, but she couldn’t tell him that until she was one hundred percent sure. That’s what he wanted, what he deserved. As much as she wanted to put Paul from her mind, she knew he had the answers. All of the answers.
Was he affecting Mitch’s feelings toward her? Lying there naked across his body, the thought that Mitch really didn’t feel this way about her devastated her. What if this was all Paul?
She pressed her cheek harder against Mitch’s chest. No, she didn’t want to think it. That thought scared her more than her doubts about her own feelings. Maybe Mitch truly didn’t know that Paul was guiding his heart. If she gave her heart and soul to Mitch, and the connection between them someday withered away, would she be able to stand the heartbreak when Mitch came to his senses?
He pulled the sheet up over her shoulders, and she realized she was shaking again. “You’re thinking too much,” he said. “I thought we were just going to be.”
She nodded, tightening her hold on him. She employed her new power of reaching out and asked, “Will you just put your arms around me and hold me like this for a while?”
His other arm slid around her, and he held her tight.
“Mitch!” The female voice from outside the French doors startled both of them. She knocked on the glass. “Mitch, open up! It’s important.”
“Cripes. It’s Tawny,” he said, covering Jenna and grabbing another sheet to wrap around his waist as he went to the door and opened it. “What’s wrong?”
Tawny took in his “attire”, then her gaze slid behind him to where Jenna lay in the tangle of sheets feeling quite conspicuous. She turned back to Mitch, face tighter than it already was. “It’s Boy George. She’s about to foal.”
“I’ll be right there.” He closed the door and turned back to Jenna, who was already slipping into her dress. “Dammit.” He stepped into his discarded jeans. “You don’t have to come.”
“I want to.”
“It’s going to be messy. We might lose the foal, or even the mare. There’ll be lots of blood.” He said this while putting on his shoes.
“Are you protecting me, Mitch?” Like Paul, shielding me from the world.
He paused, looking at her, tilting his head. “Maybe I am.”
“I’ve gone from seeing tragedy everywhere from being shielded from it completely. I want that middle ground, joy and pain.” She glanced down at her dress, wrinkled as though it had been tossed off in a moment of passion. Ahem. Speaking of joy and pain. “I’ll meet you at the stables. I’m going to change.”
Chapter 16
“I can’t believe you slept with her!”
Tawny had been waiting for Mitch by the garage, apparently suspecting he might shirk his duties in favor of staying in bed with Jenna. Tempting though it was, a foaling mare was nothing to mess around with.
“Fine, don’t believe it.”
“Mitch, what happened to your holy vow? You’ve thrown it in my face enough times. I wasn’t even married to Paul, I just dated him.”
“That’s between me, Paul and Jenna,” he said tightly. He’d worked through all that, but he wasn’t about to explain himself to Tawny.
“Can’t you see what she’s doing? She’s trying to continue her marriage by using you.”
Her words prickled through him. “Tawny, butt out. It’s none of your business.”
“I guess loving you for eight years doesn’t make it my business, then. Yeah, that’s right. Before I married Chuck. It started that day you kissed me behind the stables, when Paul walked around the corner and caught us.” She wasn’t looking at him. “I know, it’s no big surprise how I feel. You’ve been using excuses to keep me at bay for years. First the vow with Paul, and later, you hired me and then said you don’t date your employees. But think about it: any woman who marries you is going to be involved in this place. That’s what you want, anyway. What’s the deal, Mitch?”
They’d walked out of the pine forest, and the overhead lights bathed them in an orange glow. He looked at the lean, attractive woman who now waited for an answer.
“You’ve known me for a long time,” he said, pausing at the office door. “You know I don’t do anything halfway. Have I thought about taking up with you, being the kind of dad Scotty deserves? Sure. But not one hundred percent. What I feel toward the woman I’ll marry has got to be overpowering, all-consuming. I won’t settle for less, and I won’t give less.”
“Is that what you feel for Jenna?”
Had he said … marry? “Closest thing to. Come on. Let’s go have ourselves a foal.”
Foaling was a household event, and Mitch knew Betzi would be bummed to have missed out. Dave, Scotty, and two other employees were there to assist, and Tawny’s assistant, Sara, had just arrived.
“I just moved her to the foaling stall,” Sara said, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. She already had the necessary supplies tucked in her pockets, like scissors, iodine and packages of gloves. “She’s just about ready to go.”
“Lemme see, lemme see!” Scotty yelled out, following just behind Mitch.
“Stay back, little man. You can watch, but don’t go inside the stall. You might get kicked. Besides, she doesn’t want a lot of company right now.”
Boy George, a gorgeous paint bred for her colors, had just dropped down onto the floor when he reached the large stall reserved for foaling. Tawny stepped into the stall with Sara following just behind, both women looking capable and ready. Mitch turned to see Jenna walk into the doorway area. Even with his mind trained on his horse’s welfare, something altogether unrelated stirred in him at the sight of her. Now he felt complete, ready to go ahead with the foaling.
Scotty gave her a wiggly-fingered wave, and in his most authoritative voice said, “You can watch, but you can’t go inside there with the horse. She might kick you.” He punctuated that with a nod and looked over at Mitch.
Mitch nodded in approval, then turned back to the horse. When he’d hired Tawny, he’d found it difficult to let go and allow her to do her job. Now, he stood by with ease, ready to help with anything physical, if necessary. Fortunately, his days of sticking his hands into a horse’s vulva were long over.
That job now fell to Tawny, who donned her shoulder-length glove as soon as the mare’s water broke, lubricated it, and reached in to locate the foal’s hooves and muzzle. Normally this was done quickly, to determine that the foal was in the correct position, and then the mare would be left alone to do her thing. Mitch watched as Tawny’s studious expression turned to worry.
“The foal’s backward,” Tawny said, face now tight. “I can feel its tail.”
Mitch let out an expletive, then apologized when Scotty made a sound of surprise. He knew nature wasn’t always kind, but because he bred the horses, he felt responsible for putting their lives in danger. “Dave, call the vet!”
When he looked back at Boy George, he saw that Scotty had inched his way into the stall trying to get a better look. Just as Mitch opened his mouth to tell him to get back, Boy George rolled over, hooves flying right toward the child. Tawny and Sara were too busy getting out of the way, but Tawny’s eyes widened in horror when she saw Scotty in the stall.
Before Mitch could even begin to grab for the boy, Jenna had lunged forward and yanked him backward. The mare’s rear hoof caught her in the cheek, sending her sprawling backward onto the floor.
“Scotty!” Tawny yelled, running around the mare toward the stall door.
“Jenna!” Mitch screamed, scooping her up and getting her out of the way in case Boy George got another cramp and rolled back over.
Scotty had gotten to his feet, his lower lip pouted out. “I did bad, didn’t I? I just wanted to see the backward foal, that’s all.”
Mitch helped Jenna to her feet. “You all right?” She had a nasty red stain on her left cheek. “Can you tell if the bone’s broken or chipped?”
She pressed her finger to the red area, wincing. “I don’t think so. Feels more like a bad bruise.”
“Scotty, you know better than to do that!” Tawny scolded, glancing back in the stall where Sara was trying to soothe the mare. Tawny hugged Scotty to her, but her gaze was on Jenna. “Are you okay? I can’t believe he did that. If he’d have been kicked …” She shook her head. “You could have saved his life. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Jenna nodded. “I didn’t think about what I was doing. I just … grabbed for him.”
Tawny swallowed hard, looking pale as she probably imagined what could have happened. “Thank you.” To Scotty, she said, “Go upstairs. Now.”
Scotty only took two steps toward the door, looking almost as frightened as his mother.
Mitch inspected Jenna’s cheek. “Let’s go back to the house and put some ice on it.” It was already swelling, and the thought of her pain made him wince for her.
“You stay here,” Jenna said, nodding toward the mare. “She needs you more than I do. I’ll take Scotty to the house with me.” She held her hand out to the little boy.
“You’re not mad at me?”
“No, I’m not mad at you. Come on, you can help put ice on my cheek.”
He took her hand. “I can make it better.”
Mitch and Tawny watched them walk toward the door leading into the offices. “I know you can,” Jenna said, glancing back at Mitch and letting him know with just a slight nod that she was all right. Then she and Scotty disappeared inside.
Tawny moved back into the stall, mutte
ring, “I take back every bad thought I’ve had about her. Sara, let’s try to get Boy George up and postpone her delivery until the vet gets here. I know what to do if we have to, but I’d rather leave it to the pro if possible.”
She turned back to Mitch, who had walked into the stall to help guide the mare to her feet. “Most women would have played it to the hilt, taking you from where you’re needed so you could play doctor. I almost think she was more concerned with making Scotty feel better than getting appreciation or sympathy.”
That thing inside Mitch that had started when Jenna arrived in the stables grew larger, brighter, almost overwhelming. He felt hot and high and full of the feeling that he could conquer the world. She’d done that to him. And he knew in that instant that he loved her. Not because she was Paul’s wife, not because of her strength or beauty, and not because she had Paul’s heart inside her. It was her spiritual heart that had captured him.
Now that he was sure, now that he’d gone and admitted it to himself … what was he going to do about it?
“Come on, Boy George,” he said, pulling her to her feet almost single-handedly. “We’re going to have this foal, backward or not, and you’re both going to be just fine.”
“I’m sorry,” Scotty said for the fiftieth time.
“It’s okay, sweetie. See, I’m not bleeding or anything.”
Jenna chose the chipped ice option in the refrigerator door and filled a sandwich baggie with it. In truth, she felt shaken, and her cheek felt as if it had swollen to engulf her entire face. It ached with a throbbing kind of pain, hurting even more when she’d bent down to change the shorts she’d dirtied on the stable floor. “Come on, let’s go watch some television.”
The first light switch in the gathering room didn’t illuminate the room at all. When she followed the dim blue glow, she found that the entire east wall was covered with a magnificent plaster mural of running horses. Recessed light cans lit the textures and the darker shades of the horses. Then she realized it was a replica of the gorgeous painting in the dining room, of the horses running in from the surf, or rather, the surf becoming the horses.
In a Heartbeat Page 27