She warmed all over and need lit a match in her sex. He flashed her a smile that melted her panties and teased her with promise.
Tease. The idea held a certain allure. It could be a lot of fun to tease him for a few days. Payback for ripping the shit out of the land out back.
He may win the war, but she’d give him a hell of a run before she surrendered. Oh yes, she’d hang him by his blue balls until he begged for it.
She smiled back at him and put enough heat in her expression to sizzle steak. “I’ll take you up on that offer, TJ, seeing as you were such a good sport to offer me a guest room. To myself.”
“Guess I’ll move out to my camper then.” Deke muttered beside TJ.
TJ slapped his palm on Deke’s shoulder to hold his brother still. He stared up at Marnie. “That’s great, Marnie. Jon would be pleased to know you’ve accepted my hospitality.”
She walked down the stairs much more slowly than she’d run up, her expression serene and sultry. The sway in her hips promised him a good old-fashioned chase.
A chase he was definitely up for. Up being the operative word. His cock had been on alert since he’d first set eyes on her.
“Deke, get your shit out of the spare room and move your camper to Lyle’s place. I have a guest that smells a lot better than you.”
He’d won this round, with the help of the kids that had ruined the inn. As sad as it was to see the condition of the place, he rejoiced at his good luck.
Marnie had accepted the cabins and the interior of the inn was guaranteed to keep her out of his hair through most of the project.
Best of all, he’d have a whole summer of contact. She wasn’t the kind of woman to leave work to others and she’d be on site more often than not.
He had a handle on the woman she’d become: sexy, bright, driven. He wanted to know if there was anything left of the girl she’d been, the funny, smart kid who’d laughed with him and caught his heart in the first blush of attraction.
He had a whole summer to learn about Marnie Dawson. A whole summer to seduce her, starting now.
Holly Dawson glanced at her call display. Marnie. Guilt made her answer. “Finally,” Marnie said by way of greeting, “you picked up.”
“Only because you made me feel guilty about not answering. I’ve been busy. New place, new job, yada yada.” Avoiding her ex-husband had been high on her list, too. She juggled her phone, her purse, her keys, while listening to a wild rant from her favorite cousin.
She opened her apartment door and left her key to dangle in the lock as she listened. “You won’t believe the devastation. All those beautiful trees gone. Uprooted as if they never existed,” Marnie wailed.
Holly didn’t get a word in while Marnie blasted through some more complaints about a guy named Paul Bunyan who was immovable as a mountain. She got hopelessly lost in the details, none of which made sense.
The best thing to do when Marnie got on a rant was to let her wind down. She set her purse on the shelf in the hall closet, while Marnie complained in her ear about stubborn mountain men in plaid shirts.
“Paul who?” She leaned on the wall, prepared to listen for as long as it took. Marnie in a panic didn’t happen often, so it must mean serious trouble at the inn.
“He tore up an acre of trees to build log cabins.”
“Paul Bunyan?” Marnie was frazzled if she was imagining fictional folk heroes. “Have you seen his ox?”
“Yes, no, don’t be a pain and listen.” Marnie’s exasperated voice rang through the phone. “His name is really TJ O’Banion, but he reminds me of Paul Bunyan. He’s big and brawny and builds log cabins.”
“And he’s cleared the back acres? All of them?”
“One. But you’ll recall the codicil Grandad added to his will? We thought it was odd, but now it makes sense. He paid the O’Banions to clear the land and build log cabins behind the inn.”
“What was he thinking?”
“After Aunt Trudy died, he added the codicil and paid TJ in advance. The work has to be finished before we can sell.” Marnie stalled out.
“If the cabins increase the value, then I’m fine with the whole idea.” She looked forward to spending a couple of weeks away from Seattle and the chance to spruce up the Friendly Inn couldn’t have come at a better time.
For lots of reasons, getting gone worked for Holly, but Marnie wanted in and out and a sold sign on the lawn. This time on the Peninsula was time Marnie couldn’t afford.
Holly understood, but at the same time, she wanted the peace and quiet. She needed to sort out her life and a couple weeks away fit the bill. Marnie still ranted, but one detail came clear.
Grandad had always been an out-of-the-box thinker, a man who forged ahead with ideas without a thought for anyone else. She couldn’t decide if that made him strong and decisive or just plain selfish.
He would never have consulted with his children about such a move, even though the land and the business would one day be theirs.
But he’d fooled everyone by skipping a generation in his will. He’d passed all his land down to his granddaughters with the stipulation that no male descendants could visit the inn until one year after his death.
“I wish our fathers could go up there and see what’s going on. I have to wonder what else the old man had up his sleeve.”
“Doesn’t bear thinking about. But in a way, I’m glad we only have each other and Kylie to deal with when it comes to decisions about the inn. Surely three people can find common ground sooner than an entire family of stubborn Dawsons.” A hint of humor laced through Marnie’s words.
“We’ll manage, but—” A pair of strong arms caught Holly around the waist, cutting off her words. She yelped in shock but recognized the scent of the man who held her.
“Holly? Are you okay, what’s going on?”
“I have to go, Marnie.” Jack nuzzled her neck. “I have unexpected company.” Her ex nipped at her ear, while he dangled her keys over the hall table. She heard him kick the door shut as she disconnected.
Damn, she should have seen him lurking outside the building.
She flipped her phone off and turned into Jack’s arms, thinking fast. He snugged her hips tight to his.
His cock rose, ready and hard between them. Holly let him kiss her while she tried to think of a reason to get him out of here before the inevitable happened.
Too late.
His hand slid up her skirt to her pussy with expert knowledge and pressed against her in a rocking motion. He knew she’d be wet for him in seconds. Sex had almost always been good with Jack.
It was everything else that was wrong.
Moisture built while he sighed into her mouth. “See, babe? It’s so right for us.” He tore her panty hose open then hooked a finger around the crotch of her panties and pulled them down so he could open her and plunge into her moistening channel.
Damn, this was good. She tried not to like it, but her knees went weak as she opened into a bloom. She hadn’t seen him in two weeks and she’d hoped he’d take the hint and let these booty calls come to an end. But Jack had never let anything go easily.
“Jack, we need to talk.” He rubbed his thumb over her clit. “Really.” But, oh, it felt good. So good. She let her head roll as he rubbed at her. They’d talk later, after he’d woven his magic. She was such a sucker for this. Did it make her weak to want sex this much? Her clit plumped as he rolled it under his thumb.
She shifted to give him more room while he tore at her hose again. If she was lucky, he’d drop to his knees and eat her raw. But she refused to ask. He’d like hearing it too much.
“Done enough talking, Holly,” he said into her ear. His chin rasped the delicate skin of her neck. “Right now I want you and you want this. You’re so hot, so needy every time. I’ll never get enough of you.” He kissed her again, hard, testing, tempting. “There’ll never be another you.”
He was right about her need for sex. She was easily aroused and he’d taken adva
ntage all through their marriage. Knowing he was doing it again didn’t stop the sensations, though. She was a sucker and let him play her like one.
But one more time couldn’t hurt. She moaned as he bared her breasts and suckled each one. Tension rose and orgasm beckoned.
She bit back the next moan as desire heated deep in her belly. A flare of anger burned along the passion as he kissed her neck with a stream of nips and nibbles that drove her toward release. Her hips pumped in response to the steady plunge of his fingers. “Jack.” He made her so wet.
“Hear that, baby?” He moved his finger faster, sliding into her slickness. “You’re wet for me. Just for me. Tell me, Holly, tell me.”
“Just for you, Jack,” she lied and panted for breath, and heard the wet slide as he worked her toward a fast first come. Her plumped clit distended toward his thumb and he laughed in his throat when she rolled her hips for more. He burrowed his thumb and rubbed harder. She groaned and opened wider, giving him the invitation he craved.
She rolled her head again and touched the frame of her hall mirror, but Jack didn’t stop. He knew all her signs and kept up a steady assault on her senses.
“Unh,” she groaned the way he liked and stopped pretending she could put the brakes on this with him. He took her over the edge into weak release.
“That’s it, baby,” he crooned as her pulsing orgasm faded. It had been a couple of years since she’d had a really great orgasm, but Jack never bothered to notice.
There was a lot he didn’t want to see, and Holly had unconsciously entered into a conspiracy of silence with Jack. Their marriage had slipped away while neither of them noticed. Conversation had deteriorated, shared time had disappeared. The only thing they still had was this.
Three months after the divorce even the sex had faded to a shadow of what it had been.
Yes, a conspiracy of silence cocooned them.
A silence that had to be broken.
Later.
Right now, she didn’t have the heart to throw salt into his wounds, so she took him into her bedroom and into her body, one last time.
She tugged off her shredded panty hose and panties and settled back on the bed while Jack shucked out of his jeans. She passed him a condom and smiled when he whined about it. She cocked an eyebrow. “We’re not together, Jack. I don’t know where you’ve been.”
He used it, but he was pissed off enough to drag her by the ankles to the foot of the bed. Then he bent her knees to her chest, opened her legs wide and rammed into her. He grunted with the force of his powerful thrust while Holly clutched the bedspread and counted plunges.
Should take four, but, hey, Jack was in fine form today with six. He spurted into her and rode out his orgasm in a burst of enthusiasm she didn’t feel. Two weeks ago she’d at least managed to feign interest.
Booty calls with her ex. How pathetic. But this was the first time he’d come to this new apartment. Other times she’d gone to him and it shamed her that she had. But sex with strangers wasn’t a sure thing and Jack came with a guarantee. Marnie often said a vibrator did, too.
Jack tried to shift to his usual side of the bed but she scooted over and moved into place to block him. “You, ah, have to go now, Jack. I’m busy tonight.” She held her breath while he took in the comment.
He frowned. He liked everything in its place and she was on the wrong side of the bed. Her bed. Her new bed, that up until now, had had no trace of Jack in it.
“I want to have dinner, watch a movie,” he said. “Do what we always do.”
“Which is the problem, isn’t it?” She should have been more careful with her keys. She set her forearm across her forehead and stared at the ceiling. Plastic stars and moons glowed at her from the ceiling.
He saw them, too. She knew because he made a clicking sound with his tongue. He disapproved of whimsy, and the glow-in-the-dark celestial bodies smacked of lightheartedness.
Thing was, she loved feeling light and happy and it was time she said so. “I like my stars,” she said. “They’re mine and I like them.”
He smoothed his cock and left sticky tracks on her brand-new sheets. He’d always been lazy post coitus. He wouldn’t leave unless she pushed harder.
“What are you busy with?”
“Packing. I’m going to the Peninsula to meet up with Marnie.”
“Why? You never go there.”
“Family meeting. Everyone’s going.” The lie came more easily than she expected, but she’d say anything to ease this moment. She didn’t want to end things with the bald truth. She didn’t have any feelings for Jack anymore: not love, not anger, not even dislike or disappointment. There was just a big void where her feelings for him used to live. And sorry, sad sex couldn’t fill that void any longer.
“Your Grandad sick? He’s got that inn, right?” Jack always liked the idea of her coming into her share some day. It was a mistake to mention the Peninsula. He could be dogged when he got wind of something.
“No, he’s not sick.” A technicality because Jon Dawson had died months ago, in the early days of their separation. “But we thought it was a good time to get together.” She scrambled to think of a reason that would work to put him off the scent. “It seems we have a cousin we’ve never met. My Aunt Trudy’s daughter. No one’s met her.”
He snorted and rolled to sit up. His back showed his recent weight gain. Love handles bulged at his waist. Not that she cared, but it proved he was still stressed over their divorce. He liked to blame her for his fast-food diet, but when they were together he’d done a lot of the cooking. According to Jack, her skills were never quite up to snuff in the kitchen.
“You need to move on, Jack. This has to be the last time we’re together.”
His back stiffened. “Why? We’re talking now. Isn’t that what you want? To communicate?”
“Fucking when the mood strikes isn’t communication. It’s been months since the divorce. I’ve got a new place I like. A job I enjoy,” she lied again. “You need to find the same kind of positive things.” She wanted to pat him on the back, but he’d see it as an invitation for more sex. “Take this time while I’m away to focus on what you want out of life. You may find someone you connect with.”
He turned to face her. “When are you coming back?” His voice was quiet, soft. His eyes shimmered in the twilight that filled the room.
She hesitated, because she wasn’t sure how much time he might need. She shrugged. “I took a couple of vacation weeks, so I’ll be gone a while. I’m not exactly sure how long,” she fudged. “Marnie talked about hanging out a while and getting to know our new cousin.”
“A couple of weeks, just long enough for you to beg for it again.”
She couldn’t let it pass, she should have, but she couldn’t. “You’re the one who came to me. I don’t want this with you anymore.”
He stood and walked out without speaking or looking at her again. But he made sure to use her shower and leave his wet towels on the floor of her bathroom.
Jack, staking a claim, trying to let her know he was still part of her life. Still her husband.
He wasn’t.
He wasn’t.
He wasn’t.
4
Marnie took a moment to appreciate TJ’s fine body when he unloaded her car and motioned her into his home ahead of him. She opened the unlocked front door, prepared for full-on bachelor decor. She was wrong. “Your home is beautiful.” Rustic but with a contemporary flair.
He set a suitcase and her laptop on his leather sofa. Brown top-grain, not black, softly worn-in, like a favorite jacket.
“It’s a mess,” he confessed. “Deke’s not the easiest man to live with, but I should have picked up before I left this morning.” Two extra-large pizza boxes littered his coffee table, but other than the accompanying pair of empty beer bottles, the living area was tidy. Roomy and filled with furniture large enough for sprawling. A good man’s home.
He cared about how he lived, wanted comfor
t and quality in his life. “Looks great to me.”
“Thanks, but I admit to using a service every week to keep things straightened up around here.” He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the room.
“It’s a lot more welcoming than the Friendly Inn.” She shook her head at the name. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a business with such a misnomer.”
He laughed. “Jon just didn’t like people.”
“I can’t imagine him as a father with young children. My dad’s never said much about growing up with him.”
“Jon’s heart was torn out when he lost his wife. He didn’t recover. He said she made him a better man, and with her death, that part of him died, too.”
“Now you’ve made me feel sorry for a crotchety old man who never said a kind word to anyone.” She hung her purse strap over the newel post of his impressive staircase and reached to take her bag from him. “The guest room?”
“Upstairs on the left. Make yourself at home.” She put her hand on the staircase but TJ covered it with his. She looked at him for a measuring moment.
“Thank you for taking me in,” she said. “I’ll try not to disturb you.”
His gaze heated. “You’ve disturbed me since you stepped out of your car. I don’t see that changing any time soon.”
“Likewise, Thomas John.”
She trotted upstairs and found her room right away. Functional and tidy, but the bed was stripped of linen. “Tell me where the sheets are and I’ll make the bed,” she called downstairs.
His expression when she asked was crestfallen. “That door right behind you.”
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”
“A man can dream, can’t he?”
She chuckled under her breath as she dug out a set of pretty, feminine sheets. Obviously, the man wasn’t always here alone. She held the sheets to her chest and looked downstairs. She found him staring back up at her, his black hair falling over his left eye and his chest so wide they’d never walk side by side on the stairs. He took her breath as his gaze traveled up her legs to her sheet-covered chest and down again.
Men Times Three Page 4