He moved next to her and unfastened the button on her jeans and then unzipped them. She raised her hips to help him pull them off her, and then there was nothing between them except his boxers and her lacy, pale pink panties.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “And I want you so badly.”
“Show me,” she replied half breathlessly.
He pulled her back into his arms for a deep kiss. After several minutes he slid his lips to kiss behind her ear and then on down her throat.
He melted her with the flames of desire in his eyes, with the heat of his lips and hands on her. When his mouth captured one of her taut nipples, she couldn’t help but moan with the sweet sensations.
Her hands gripped his shoulders as he licked and nipped at first one nipple and then the other. This was what she’d wanted...this complete and total closeness with him.
As his hand slid down her stomach to the waistband of her panties, her breath caught in her throat. He slowly moved his fingers from left to right, teasing her and heightening her need for him.
She reached down and found him fully aroused within his boxers. She plucked at the material, wanting the boxers off him so she could stroke his bare hardness.
Before that could happen, his fingers slid beneath her panties and found her moist center. She cried out as electric shocks of pleasure ripped through her. His fingers moved with just the right pressure, with just the right tempo. Her need climbed higher and higher, and then a climax shattered her.
She cried out his name and reached for his arousal once again. “I need more, Hunter,” she gasped. “I want you inside me.”
He rolled away from her and took off his boxers. He then reached into his nightstand and grabbed a condom. He quickly rolled it on and then positioned himself between her thighs.
He slowly eased into her and held her gaze. His eyes were like a primal forest, dark and wild. He buried himself in her and then remained unmoving for a long moment.
As he continued to look down at her, she felt connected to him not only physically but also emotionally as well. It was as if their souls were uniting as well as their bodies.
Slowly he began to stroke into her, and the tension inside her began to build once again. Their breaths became pants as he increased the quickness of his strokes. She was lost in him...in them.
She’d never felt these incredible feelings before, certainly not in all the years of her marriage. This was more intense, more meaningful, and while he masterfully took control, there was also a wealth of gentleness coming from him.
With a gasp, she felt another climax begin to build inside her. She urged him faster and met each of his thrusts with her own. She felt him surging inside her and the tension stiffening his entire body right before he climaxed sent her back over the edge again.
After several seconds he rolled off her and onto his back next to her. It took a few minutes for them to both catch their breaths.
He propped himself up on an elbow and smiled down at her. “That was better than in my best dreams,” he said.
“For me, too.”
He reached out and stroked his fingers across an old scar on her abdomen. “What’s this from?”
“Oh, uh, a splenectomy due to a car accident,” she said. The lie tripped from her lips and she hated herself for it. She still had her spleen, no thanks to Peter, who had tried to kill her by stabbing her to death. Thankfully all the other wounds and broken bones she’d received from him were no longer visible.
Once again he stroked his fingers over the old scar. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“It was a long time ago,” she replied. She sighed and looked at the clock on his nightstand. “It’s almost time for you to get me back home.”
“I thought it was women who always wanted to bask in the afterglow,” he said teasingly. He leaned over and kissed her tenderly.
When the kiss ended, he swept a strand of her long hair away from her face and frowned. “I wish you could stay right here for the whole night. I would love to cuddle you all night long and then wake up in the morning with you in my arms.”
She sighed with wistfulness. “I would love that, too, but unfortunately reality intrudes and we need to get up.”
“Go ahead and use my master bathroom, I’ll use the one in the hallway.” He rolled off his side of the bed, grabbed his boxers, jeans and shirt from the floor and then left the bedroom.
Ainsley grabbed her clothing from the bed and the floor and then went into the adjoining bathroom. As her heart finally found a normal rhythm, she dressed and then stared at her reflection in the mirror.
She looked like and felt like a woman who had just been thoroughly loved. Making love to Hunter had been magical. This evening, this experience, had just confirmed what she’d seen coming...she was falling head over heels in love with Hunter Churchill.
She wanted this relationship to thrive and grow. She wanted this healthy and happy relationship. She desperately wanted a future with Hunter. Right now she felt as if it was within her fingertips—she just hoped nothing happened to mess it all up.
Chapter Six
“Deputy Churchill, somebody is out here to see you,” Lanie said when she stuck her head into the bullpen.
He gazed at her quizzically, but before he could ask her who, she disappeared again. “Ainsley?” Nick said from his desk.
Hunter shrugged. “She’s never shown up here before.” But they hadn’t spent the kind of night they had shared last night before.
He’d spent far too much of the morning thinking about how much he’d loved the taste of her, the feel of her bare silky skin against his and the evocative scent of her.
He sprang to his feet and hurried to the door. “Go get her, tiger.” Nick’s laughter chased behind him.
Hunter stepped out into the reception area, disappointed not to see Ainsley but surprised to see Marybeth Wilson. “Marybeth, your dad doing okay?” he asked, instantly concerned about George.
She was a petite blonde and had an aluminum foil–wrapped platter in her hand. “He’s doing fine. I should have done this before now, but I wanted to thank you for taking care of him while I was gone. He told me how kind you were to him.” She held out the platter. “These are homemade chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven.”
“Marybeth, you didn’t have to do this,” he said as he took the platter from her. He made an instant decision not to tell her about his father’s visit to his home with his cookies. George apparently hadn’t told her, and Hunter wasn’t going to rat him out.
She smiled. “Trust me, I needed to do this. You’ve been so kind to my father on so many occasions. It was about time I did something to show my appreciation.”
Hunter smiled. “These cookies smell delicious, but still, I was only doing my job.”
“We both know that you have gone above and beyond just doing your job for him many times. Anyway, enjoy the cookies.” She gave him another smile and then turned and left.
“You’d better give me one of those cookies before you take them back to the other guys,” Lanie said. She jumped out of her chair, ripped the aluminum foil off the cookie plate and then sighed with pleasure. “Look at them...all warm and gooey with chocolate chips.” She grabbed two off the platter and then returned to her desk.
“This was really nice,” Hunter said.
“Way better than that time Betty Simon brought you her special cauliflower casserole,” Lanie replied.
“Yeah, her thoughtfulness was appreciated even if her cooking skills weren’t,” Hunter said with a laugh. He returned to his desk, where Nick immediately grabbed two of the cookies. “If these are from Ainsley, then you better marry that girl,” he said after a bite.
“Actually, they’re from Marybeth Wilson for me taking care of George whenever he goes off the rails. But I am considering marrying Ainsley.
”
Nick paused with the cookie halfway to his mouth. “Seriously, dude?”
“Seriously,” Hunter replied. He didn’t know exactly when he’d realized he was completely in love with Ainsley, but he had reached a point in their relationship that love for her filled his heart. Making love with her last night had just confirmed it.
“So, are you going to propose to her soon?”
Hunter frowned. “Not yet. We’ve got a major issue we need to get past before I’ll ask her.”
“What’s the issue?”
“Her daughter hates me.”
Nick’s dark brows danced upward in surprise. “Seriously? She hates the most well-liked deputy in the entire county? What did you do to her?”
Hunter laughed. “Nothing. I bought her a stuffed pink unicorn, thinking that would break the ice between us.”
“So apparently she isn’t into unicorns,” Nick said.
“Oh, she was into the unicorn, she just wasn’t into me. I’m hoping it’s just going to take a little time.”
Nick took a bite of the cookie. “Good luck with that, man.”
Minutes later Hunter was back patrolling the streets, but his mind was still filled with Ainsley and Melinda. He hoped Dr. Atkins would be able to sort things out with Melinda and the little girl would give him a chance to be a part of her life. Without that, he knew there was no hope for a future with Ainsley.
Still, last night had confirmed to him that she felt close to him. He didn’t believe she was the kind of woman who would go to bed with him if she wasn’t falling in love with him, and that excited him for the future.
When it was time for his lunch break, he was more than happy to head to the café. He stepped inside, grateful that as usual the lunch rush had passed and the café was relatively quiet.
He spied Ainsley by the soda machine, and he slid into a seat at one of her tables. When she turned around, her beautiful smile lit up her features. She delivered a soda to one of the other diners and then walked over to his table.
“I’ve been waiting all day to see you,” she said.
“That’s funny, I’ve been waiting all day to see you, too,” he replied.
“I couldn’t wait to thank you, although you shouldn’t have.” Her eyes twinkled brightly.
“You’re welcome, but what is it I shouldn’t have done?”
“You know...the roses,” she replied with one of her charming blushes rising up to color her cheeks.
“Uh...what roses?”
“Stop playing,” she replied and gave him a playful smack on his shoulder. “They were delivered in here this morning.”
He gazed at her solemnly. “Ainsley, I’m not playing with you. I didn’t send you roses. What exactly was delivered to you this morning?”
“A dozen red roses in a beautiful vase with no card. I just assumed after last night...” Her voice trailed off.
“I wish I had sent you roses, Ainsley, but I didn’t.” He reared back in his chair and then grinned at her. “So, it looks like you have a secret admirer and I have some competition.”
A deep frown cut across her forehead. “It isn’t funny. I don’t like secrets.”
“I’m sure if you give it a little time whoever sent them to you will let you know.”
“I hope you’re right,” she replied. Her frown smoothed out somewhat. “Now, what can I get you for lunch?”
He placed his order with her, missing the flirtatious small talk they usually indulged in. He watched her taking care of the other diners in her section, and a sense of disquiet suddenly filled him. Despite the way Ainsley had reacted to the roses, maybe he shouldn’t be so sure of himself when it came to her.
Who in the hell was her secret admirer, and how much did he have to worry about him?
AINSLEY SAT AT her kitchen table and stared at the vase of red roses that had been delivered to her in the café that morning.
When she’d realized the gorgeous roses beautifully arranged in a white vase were for her, she’d been thrilled. She’d also been certain they had been from Hunter even though there hadn’t been a card.
Lana had teased her unmercifully, and the other waitresses, both married and single, had looked at her with a bit of envy. She’d quickly carried them back to her kitchen table and then had hurried back to the floor to continue working.
She’d spent the rest of the morning anticipating seeing Hunter and then when she had and he’d told her he hadn’t sent the roses, a sick feeling had swept through her.
She definitely didn’t like surprises. She’d had enough of them during her marriage to Peter. She’d never known whether he was going to stroke her hair or pull it, smile at her or smack her. The secrets that only he could hear and see in his own head kept him unpredictable and dangerous.
She shook her head to dispel any further thoughts of Peter. She couldn’t allow herself to be pulled back into memories of his brutality and utter madness.
If not Hunter, then who had sent her the roses? The longer she stared at them, the higher her anxiety climbed. They were such a deep red...like the color of blood.
Now why would she think that? The flowers might represent a special thank-you to her or a budding romantic interest from somebody. She just wished the sender had sent an identifying card as well.
She glanced at the clock. It was just after eight. There was only one flower shop in town, and they might still be open. Maybe she could get some answers from somebody there.
She found the number and then called. “April’s Flowers,” a pleasant female voice answered. “This is Megan speaking, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Megan. My name is Ainsley Meadows, and I work at the Dusty Gulch Café. This morning a dozen red roses were delivered to me there, and I was wondering if you could tell me who sent them.”
“I’d love to help you out, but there was no order for a dozen roses that came out of my shop today,” Megan said.
Ainsley paused in surprise. “Are you sure?”
The woman on the other end of the line laughed. “Honey, I’ve been here all day, and a sale for roses is a good day for me. Trust me, no roses went out today or any time in the last few weeks.”
“Thank you anyway,” Ainsley said. She hung up and then stared at the roses again. She hadn’t paid much attention to the young man who had delivered them. He’d worn a hat, so she didn’t even know if he’d been blond or brunette.
She jerked up from the table and carried the roses to the trash can. If they weren’t from Hunter, then she didn’t want them. The flowers finished filling the trash bag, and she tied it at the top and then carried it to her door.
The dumpster for the café was just at the back of the property. She regularly carried her trash bags out to it, but for some reason she was particularly on edge tonight.
You can always take the trash out tomorrow when there’s more daylight, a little voice whispered in her head. You’ve taken the trash out at this time of night a hundred times before, another voice chided.
Irritated with herself, she unlocked the door, grabbed the trash bag and stepped outside. The cool night air wrapped itself around her as she scurried across the parking lot toward the dumpster.
The night seemed deeper...darker than usual as the moon was covered by clouds. The streetlamp on the corner provided only the faintest illumination into this area.
She reached the dumpster and threw in her bag. A rustling behind the dumpster froze her in her tracks. Was somebody there? Was somebody hiding behind the trash receptacle? Watching her? Waiting for her?
Her heart began to pound as she took a step backward, keeping her gaze shooting from the dumpster to the area just around it. Somebody had sent her roses...was it possible that somebody was stalking her?
She jumped and released a sudden laugh in relief as a mouse scurried out from behind the dump
ster and raced across the parking lot. Jeez, what was wrong with her?
She went back inside the apartment and sank down on the sofa. She was being ridiculous. Just because she’d gotten roses from an unknown person didn’t mean that something was wrong...that something was somehow threatening.
Hunter was right—somebody would probably come forward by the end of the next day to claim the roses and say why they had sent them to her.
Her negative reaction was from her past. Peter had always gotten her roses...sometimes as an apology for beating her, and sometimes in anticipation of beating her. But Peter wasn’t around. And hopefully he had no idea where she was. Most men would assume any woman loved that particular flower.
She had just gotten into bed when her phone rang. She saw the caller identification and immediately answered, unable to halt the smile that curved her lips.
“I’ve decided I love the sound of your voice right before I go to sleep,” Hunter said.
“Same,” she replied simply.
“I’ve been kicking myself all day long,” he said.
“Why is that?”
“After last night I should have been the one to send you roses.”
“Hunter, making love to you was all the gift I needed. I don’t need you to send me roses or gifts. You’re all I want.”
“God, I’m crazy about you,” he replied.
She laughed. “You’re just happy because I’m a cheap date.”
“Well, there is that,” he returned with a laugh of his own. “I just wanted to tell you to have sweet dreams.”
“Thank you, Hunter. Sweet dreams to you, too.”
Her smile continued to ride her lips long after the phone call ended. Making love with Hunter had been like fulfilling a fantasy. He’d been so gentle, so wonderfully tender and everything she had hoped he would be.
She awakened the next morning feeling well rested and more centered. She was especially pleased that over breakfast Melinda didn’t mention hearing her father talk to her the night before. Maybe the appointment with Dr. Atkins was already making a difference.
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