If I Can't Have You

by Iris Morland

  Mark may have seen her topless yesterday, but getting completely naked in front of him? It was a huge step for her, as she usually requested that the lights were off during sex.

  Anxiety and excitement filled her in equal measures. Her hands shook as she pushed her pajamas shorts and panties down before slipping off her tank.

  Mark stripped out of his boxers, his cock half-hard already. Her breath quickened. Dark hair covered his chest, arrowing down his torso to his groin. Those muscles rippled as he moved, like a wild cat.

  Abby could see how tight his expression was and how his nostrils flared as he stared at her. She felt powerful, like some kind of goddess. Her anxiety melted away.

  No woman could remain self-conscious with a man like Mark looking at her like she was the only thing he'd ever wanted.

  Trailing her fingers down his torso, feeling the springy hair, she smiled. She'd missed this: this closeness with a man. Touching a man, tasting him.

  Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him, sweeping her tongue along the seam of his lips. He tangled his fingers in her hair with a groan, tipping her head back to give him better access.

  As they kissed, she wrapped her hand around his cock, now fully erect. He let out another groan as she gripped him. She learned this part of him, the sight of which set her body aflame. At first she stroked him with a light touch, but before long he covered her hand with his own.

  "Harder," he breathed against her mouth. "Like this."

  They gripped him together for a few more moments, and she felt him grow larger against her palm. Her body pulsed. The smell of sex and salt filled the room, and Abby wanted to lick the scent from his skin.

  But Mark broke the embrace with a muttered oath. "Get on the bed."

  He headed to the bathroom, leaving Abby standing in the middle of his room.

  Climbing onto the bed, she wondered if she should get under the covers or not. She was already warm, but the thought of lying naked on top of Mark's sheets seemed almost too brazen for her. She decided to compromise by pushing the comforter to the foot of the bed and getting under the sheets, which cooled her overheated body.

  When Mark returned, all thoughts of sheets and comforters fled her mind. She saw the gleam of foil packets in his hand, and he tossed the condoms onto the nightstand before climbing into bed with her. When he saw the sheet covering her, he grinned.

  "Shy?" he murmured. He kissed her shoulder, moving her hair aside.

  She inhaled as he licked her. "No," she breathed, because it was true. She didn't feel shy around him because he'd never given her a reason to feel shy in the first place.

  He pushed the sheet down until her breasts were bared, and she wiggled out from under the covers with a laugh. Like they'd done yesterday afternoon, Abby straddled Mark while sitting on his lap. He was strong, but even he couldn't keep his weight only on his good arm if he were on top.

  This also gave her a chance to keep kissing him and exploring him. His cock pressed against her belly, hot and hard. His own hands were busy, stroking down her spine, feeling each vertebrae in her back. When he found her sex, already wet for him, he groaned.

  "Goddamn, Abby. I never thought—" He shook his head as he dipped a finger inside her sheath.

  Abby gasped as he played with her, spreading her moisture over her folds, pressing and petting and driving her wild. She bucked against his hand, begging for more pressure, saying his name like a litany.

  Her climax built with stunning speed, but then he moved his fingers away. She whimpered in protest.

  "I can't wait any longer." He reached for a condom, only to make an annoyed noise when he realized he couldn't get a packet with his good arm. "Goddammit."

  She leaned over and plucked one off the nightstand, smiling as she ripped it open. "I think I can manage to do this. Unless you think I need instructions?"

  He laughed, but then he groaned when she began to roll the condom down his length. She couldn't stop herself from giving him one last squeeze, which made him tug at her hair.

  Her heart started pounding hard when she rose onto her knees, taking his cock in her hand. They both moaned when the tip began to breach her.

  Slowly—savoring every inch—Abby sank down on him, her eyes widening at how he filled her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, which made him groan.

  She watched his face the entire time. Seeing the flush on his cheeks, the way his eyes had darkened? How his hand shook on her lower back? It was overwhelming.

  Closing her eyes for a moment, she had to gain control of herself as she took him inside of her. He was so big, so much bigger than she'd had before that it was almost too much.

  Mark waited, but she knew his control was about to splinter. Opening her eyes, she started to move, his cock filling her until she started to gasp, pleasure tightening in her belly.

  Mark's hand tightened on her waist a moment before he lay on his back on the bed, his knees against Abby's back. This gave him the leverage he needed, and he began to piston inside her. Abby bit back a scream.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead and between her breasts. She held on as he used her for his own pleasure, lost in his frenzy. And she loved it. Her release trembled at the edges of her consciousness, and when she reached down to rub her clit, she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

  When he saw that she was touching herself, he swore. He thrust even harder, and the combined sensation of his cock pounding inside her and her finger rubbing her clit was too much. She shattered with a keening cry, her body shaking.

  Mark wrapped his arm around her as he thrust once, twice, three more times, and then he yelled with his own release. Abby felt his cock twitch inside her. Euphoria flooded her in waves.

  They both collapsed onto his bed, sweaty and sated.

  "Are you okay?" Mark asked, his gaze concerned. He pushed her hair from her forehead.

  How could she answer that question? Her body was boneless, but her heart felt like it had splintered. She murmured something noncommittal before she snuggled against his side.

  Mark fell asleep within moments, but Abby remained awake for some time. She wished she could ignore this pain in her chest.

  Was she okay? She was no longer sure of the answer.

  11

  Mark awoke right as dawn stretched its fingers through the curtains, coating his room in golden light. It took him a moment to orient himself: he was in his room, yes, but there was a warm weight snuggled next to him.

  He looked down to see Abby fast asleep with her head on his shoulder. She made a noise and turned over, giving him a magnificent view of her backside.

  Biting back a groan, he moved her fully off of his shoulder as gently as he could and rose from the bed. He knew she needed to get up for work soon. He got her phone from her room, knowing it had her alarm programed; he set it on the nightstand, watching her sleep for a moment.

  They'd had sex last night. He almost wondered if it had been a dream, but no, his body was too satisfied for it to have been a dream. Closing his eyes, he remembered Abby's face as she came, how she felt when she rode him. It had been a while since he'd slept with a woman, but this?

  This couldn't compare. And now all he wanted was to have her—again and again and again.

  As he went into the kitchen, he felt something soft brushing against his legs. Abby's two cats twined around his ankles, mewing softly. The one with the white patch stood on its hind legs and was about to dig its claws into Mark's knee.

  He bent down to pet them. "You guys hungry? Come on."

  The cats meowed and followed him, and then they meowed even louder as he wondered how much food to give them. He'd never owned a cat before. If he gave them too much, would they get sick like a dog would?

  The cats almost tripped him as he dumped a cup of cat food in each of their bowls. He watched them eat, surprised to see that they both ate only half of what was in their bowls. So much for being worried.

  When he began to make something for breakfast, A
bby came into the kitchen. She smiled at him, which was a good sign. If she acted like she'd regretted what had happened last night, he didn't know how he'd react.

  They got their own breakfasts in silence, but when they brushed against each other, the electricity sizzled between them. When Abby bent over to get something out of a cabinet, Mark had to look away from her round backside in the air.

  "I fed your cats," he said.

  She looked at the bowls still filled with food; she seemed to bite back a smile. "How much did you give them?"

  "Enough."

  "Thank you, then. They can be annoying when they're hungry."

  They sat down at the table and began to eat, Abby with a bowl of cereal while Mark ate toast with some bacon. He wracked his brain to think of something to say.

  Last night was great?

  Do you want to do it again?

  I can't stop thinking about how you look naked?

  None of those seemed like appropriate breakfast conversations.

  Abby was the one to break the silence. After taking a drink of her coffee, she said, "I was thinking. About last night."

  He watched in amusement as pink tinged her cheeks, and he barely restrained himself from teasing her. Since when do I tease people? He wasn't exactly Mr. Funny Man like his brother Caleb.

  "I had a good time last night, but I think we should talk about what happened, you know?"

  Hell no, he thought, but he bit into his toast instead. Why did women always want to talk about things? Couldn't they have sex, enjoy it, and go on with their days without analyzing every second of it?

  "I had a good time, too," he replied, feeling out of his depth for the millionth time around this woman.

  "I'd like to continue with our—relationship." Abby cleared her throat. "But I think we should be clear that it's just sex. Nothing else."

  Mark hadn't expected the disappointment. Had he thought she'd want anything else besides sex? And why is that a bad thing anyway?

  "So this is an affair. No feelings." He leaned back in his chair. "That's what I'd always assumed it was," he lied.

  If he saw a tiny crease of hurt in her features, well, he'd probably imagined it.

  She nodded. "Good, then it's settled. We enjoy this while it lasts, but with no other expectations."

  "I won't keep paying you, though. And you don't need to help me around the house." At her surprised look, he flushed. "I mean, I can pay you if you want, it just seems..."

  Her lips quirked. "You don't need to explain. I agree. Although I wouldn't say no to you paying for my gas still."

  That made him laugh. "I can do that. It's a deal then."

  They shook on it, but Mark couldn't stop himself from kissing her. She giggled and pushed him away after a few deep kisses, breathlessly saying she needed to get ready for work.

  As Mark worked on the ranch, Charlie seemed to notice that he was surlier than usual, but he was wise enough not to say anything.

  Women never failed to tie a man up in knots. He muttered to himself as he brushed down the horses, Delilah nudging him on the shoulder when he stopped brushing her.

  Well, if sex was all Abby wanted? He'd give it to her. He vowed that they'd have the best damn sex on the planet.

  Days passed, and as autumn faded and winter closed in, Abby and Mark's arrangement continued as planned. She lived with him, they had mind-blowing sex, and there were no feelings involved whatsoever.

  By mid-November, the leaves had fallen from the trees, the landscape bare and the weather chilly. Rain fell most days, and sometimes it rained so hard that Abby wondered how Mark got anything done on the ranch with all of the mud.

  Delilah's due date also approached, and the veterinarian had visited and pronounced both her and her foal healthy.

  "She's young and strong," Mark had explained to Abby after the vet had left. "But I can't help but worry."

  Abby knew he loved that horse more than anyone else on this earth, which might be insulting if she had feelings for him. Which she did not.

  Just because she missed him while she was at work, or longed for him the nights he had to stay overnight on some work-related trip? That didn't mean she had feelings for him. It was because she missed the sex.

  A week before Thanksgiving, Mark came home from a doctor's appointment and said, "I get my cast off on Monday. Thank God."

  Abby stirred the chili, not sure how to respond. Their original arrangement had been that she stayed here until his arm healed. But their arrangement had changed already, hadn't it? She was no longer getting paid to help him, although she still cooked most days because she enjoyed cooking. Otherwise, she'd remained because she didn't want their affair to end.

  How did my life get so complicated? she thought morosely.

  "That's good. I'm glad it's healing so well," she replied, trying to sound chipper. "Are you going home for Thanksgiving?"

  Mark grunted, which she'd learned meant "yes, but I'm not happy about it" in Mark Language.

  "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. Do you want to come with me?" he asked.

  "What? You mean go to your parents' house?"

  "Yeah. They want to meet you, since we're supposed to be dating. Or whatever it is we're doing."

  Her shoulders slumped. This was about keeping up appearances, wasn't it? Everyone thought they were still dating, and if she intended to stay here, it would make sense to continue the charade. Her head started to hurt from thinking about it all.

  "Well, if you think it's a good idea," she hedged as she moved past him to get some spices, "I'll go. Your family is famous enough that seeing them at Thanksgiving will at least be interesting."

  "That's one way to put it. I promise my mom will be on her best behavior. She's been on probation ever since she messed around with Harrison and Sara."

  Abby knew all about that story from Megan. When Harrison and Sara had started dating, Lisa Thornton had tried to interfere, refusing to believe a trashy Flannigan girl was good enough for her oldest son. To say that Harrison had been angry would be an understatement.

  "That doesn't sound at all intimidating," Abby joked.

  Mark smiled. "My mom will be too interested in talking about Harrison's wedding. Or when Caleb's getting engaged. Or about my sister Lizzie—she'll be home for the first time in a while."

  Now Abby was doubly intrigued. "Lizzie? Isn't she a musician?"

  "Yeah. If our mother hates that I own a ranch, she probably hates that Lizzie is a musician even more."

  Abby tasted the chili and after adding a little more salt, she turned the burner down to low. "Your mom is certainly...memorable."

  "That's one way to put it." His face creased a little as he asked, "So you really will come?"

  She should say no. Wasn't this only entangling herself further? To meet his family like this? But the other choice was to go to her aunt's place with her mom, where her relatives would grill her about her new relationship. At least at the Thorntons’, she'd have a chance of hanging in the background.

  "Sure, I'll come."

  Mark smiled, his eyes creasing at the corners, and the sight of it hit Abby right in the chest.

  Had she really told him that there wouldn't be any feelings involved?

  She was such a liar.

  When Mark wrapped his arms around her as she washed dishes, she closed her eyes. His touch caused both pleasure and pain now, her emotions in knots.

  He trailed kisses down her neck, and she pressed against him, feeling his arousal.

  "Do the dishes later," he growled. He nipped at her earlobe.

  "Only if you're doing them."

  He laughed, husky and low. "Deal." He turned her around and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, needing to get closer.

  When had Mark Thornton become so necessary to me?

  They stumbled to his bedroom, laughing when Abby almost tripped over a cat. Collapsing onto the bed together, they kissed desperately, the mood heating until it was alm
ost explosive.

  She scratched her nails down his back, feeling him shudder. He rolled over, taking her with him so she was on top. His broken arm had prevented him from being on top. She hadn't complained, but she did wonder what it would be like to have Mark above her, dominating her as he moved inside her.

  They stripped out of their clothes. Abby gripped his cock, rubbing him with sure strokes, but he pushed her hands away within moments. He tugged on one of her legs, motioning for her to move to the edge of the bed. He kneeled on the floor and placed her feet on his shoulders, opening her up to him.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair as he kissed down her torso. She bit back a cry as he swirled his tongue in her belly button.

  He slid his fingers through her soaked folds, and he said her name in a low rumble. As they kept eye contact, he pushed a finger inside her and then another, stretching her. A rush of wetness flooded from her body.

  "Yes, Mark, yes," she murmured. She arched and bucked, all sense of modesty long since discarded. When he licked her, she gasped. He played with her like this until she was a quivering mess. Her orgasm came closer and closer.

  When he hooked his fingers upward, moving them faster and faster inside her tightening sheath, that pressure combined with his tongue circling her clit drove her insane. Panting for breath, her release burst upon her.

  Screaming, she clutched at his head, her heels digging into his back. Her vision went black. Collapsing onto the bed, still quivering, she watched as Mark went to the nightstand to get a condom. He tore it open with his teeth, his gaze hot as he looked at her.

  Abby sat up as he climbed onto the bed. He stroked down her torso, turning her over so she faced away from him. She let out a breathless laugh when he smacked her ass.

  He lay down behind her, resting on his good arm. He kissed the back of her neck, licking her and biting.

  Abby couldn't wait any longer. Lifting her leg so it rested on his hip, she reached for his engorged length with eager fingers. She gripped him and stroked him a few times; he bit her nape harder when she squeezed him at the base.