Chapter Eighteen
She should go out that door and never come back. Her mind screamed for her to put her hand on that knob and twist with all her might. Hopping into bed with Jett would only cause her a world of hurt. She would never really know if he meant what he said or if he was trying to get her land out from under her while she was busy lying under him.
Her body shook as she visualized what being in bed with Jett would be like. She couldn’t trust herself, at least not her heart, which wanted her to rip off her clothes and his and forget logic.
He waited for her answer. He wouldn’t push her. If she said no, he would back up and let her go—forever. She would not get another chance. She would be making herself very clear in the here and now. He was risking his own heart. She knew it. And she knew how hard it was for him to do such a thing. If she didn’t treat him with care, she would never be able to come back from that. Polite neighbors would be the most he could give her afterward—if at all.
She had come here for a reason. More than one reason. She had wanted to comfort him, but she wanted more. He was offering. Could she take the risk?
“I only want to worry about tonight,” she said. “I don’t want to decide about anything else. Can you live with that deal?”
“I can take things one day at a time if you can.”
“This doesn’t mean I’ll sell to you.” Nor would she tell him what she was really doing at Markus’s. Her money problems weren’t his business even if he knew about some of them.
“My offer stays on the table. You will have to make the best decision you can for you and your family. If Ives can offer you more, then go with him.”
But they both knew Ives’s offer wouldn’t be as good as Jett’s because whether she liked it or not, Ives could not be completely trusted. And the timing of his visit was still suspicious. She could think about all of that tomorrow or the next day. For now, she had a decision to make.
“What’s it going to be, Autumn?”
She held out her hand. “Take me to bed.”
Jett clasped her hand. His skin was warm and rough against hers—his rancher hands. She shivered from his touch. He closed the bedroom door with a click. Light from the moon’s reflection on the crystal layer of snow cast a white glow in the room. Plenty to see by.
A king-size bed took up most of the room. Considering he topped off at a good six-one, she wouldn’t expect anything smaller. And if memory served her, he also liked to sprawl out when he slept. One side table held a lamp and a charging station, some loose change, and a picture of five men, four of them standing in silly poses except for Jett who stood facing front, arms crossed over his chest. He had wanted his brothers to be serious for five minutes while they took a photo for their mother as a gift. Autumn had been standing to the side by the photographer, trying not to laugh at her boyfriend’s frustrations and his brothers’ goofiness.
She detected a hint of woodsmoke and laundry detergent in the air. Everything in here fit its owner. Jett was a man of the land, simple and strong. An old-fashioned wooden rocking chair with spindles sat in the far corner. It looked a lot like the one on her porch, but it couldn’t be a match. A pile of folded clothes on the seat waited to be put in their rightful place.
“Jett, that rocking chair—”
“Is the twin to yours. Well, almost the twin. I found it at an estate sale a long time ago. I bought it, thinking of you.”
She didn’t know what to say. All the words tangled with her feelings for him.
“You can still change your mind.” He cupped the back of her neck under her hair and riveted her to her spot with his intense gaze.
“My mind is made up, Jett Ryker. I may not know what to do about the land that was in my family for generations or what I will tell my daughter about where we will live in a short time, but I know that standing here with you is exactly what I want.”
He kissed her without hesitation. She had given her permission, and he was ready. His tongue pushed her lips apart and sought hers as if his life might depend on it. She matched his determination because she thought her survival might be at stake if she didn’t have every inch of him.
He tasted faintly like coffee, but she didn’t care. She was with the man she had wanted to be with for more years than she cared to count. All the nights of foolish wondering and imagined unexpected encounters. All the times she’d played out in her mind, saying the things she should have said a long time ago. Each time she’d envisioned this moment—the moment when Jett took her in his arms and held her close. Safe. She had never completely trusted another human. Life had taught her to be leery of others who promised and didn’t deliver. And even though Jett had promised once to be by her side, life had broken its promise to him and he had splintered. She should have helped him glue the pieces back together instead of running for the hills.
His lips trailed along her jaw to the soft spot below her ear. His hands slid inside her sweater and over her abdomen. She wriggled against the scratchy trail his touch left. That touch would destroy her, and she wanted to turn to ashes if only to keep his hands on her skin.
She needed to feel him as much as she wanted him to touch her. Her hands slid over his back and lingered on the places where his muscles flexed. She pressed against him, trying to get as close as she could with their clothes on. He gripped her bottom and tugged her against his hips.
“Can we get rid of this?” He eased back and pulled on her scarf.
“Let me.” She unraveled the heavy wool and tossed it on the floor.
Jett moved to the king-size bed and turned back the duvet. Even in the dim light, she could tell the comforter was a dark plaid. Something else that was all Jett. He wore plaid shirts open over tees very well.
“You’ll be warmer under the covers,” he said.
She hadn’t given the temperature in the room any thought. He might have misunderstood her shivering for cold when the reason for her trembling was the opposite. Hot desire shook her. She slid under the covers and motioned for him to join her. Wrapping her legs around him would be far easier lying down than standing up anyway.
He took his time kissing her and exploring her body because Jett was never in a rush. He could just as easily amble over to the stables as he could slowly make a breakfast for thirty without breaking a sweat. He could sit on a mountain’s ledge and soak in the view without worrying about the hustle of the world.
They used to hike together, and he would find a spot to sit. She would wait off to the side for him to enjoy the view. He would not leave until she sat next to him on the ground, with their legs dangling over the edge of a rock.
She didn’t have the patience he did, and on those long hikes, she would be the one to tire of the scenery first. Even now, she couldn’t wait any longer to feel his skin against hers and tugged at the bottom of his shirt, trying to set it free.
He sat up and dragged the material over his head, messing his hair a little. “Better?” he said with a devilish smile.
“Much. Thank you.” She kissed him this time. While her mouth tried to express how hungry she was for him, her hands took a walk of their own.
His soft chest hair tickled her fingertips. She explored every dip and hill of his muscular torso, creating a trail over his navel with her fingers and stopping at the top of his sweatpants. She wanted to dip lower, but she fought to control herself. They had barely begun. If she didn’t slow down, it would be over too soon.
He eased her sweater over her head, dragging his hand over her body as he did and setting her skin aflame. She had another layer under there, and unfortunately, it was her pajama top because it was winter and she hadn’t exactly expected to be in his bed. When she heard about Silver Bell, she’d grabbed the sweater, thrown it on, and run for her coat.
She did have a small surprise, though, and hoped he would like it. Sitting up, she lifted the top over her head to reveal she wasn’t wearing a bra.
He let out a low growl and eased her back down with her hands over her head. “Don’t move,” he said. “I want to watch you a second.”
“Don’t stare too long. Things look a little different twenty years later.” She had stayed in decent shape over the years, though each year made it harder to maintain what she had. Her life was mostly physical, and that helped, but when her age climbed into her forties, her body had a good chuckle at her efforts.
He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Your body looks exactly as it should—curvy, soft, creamy.”
Her insides glowed at the compliment. His lips moved to her breast and took it in. He sucked until her nipple ached. His hands left her wrists and trailed her body. She could not believe she was in Jett’s bed and could not dream of any other place in the world as wonderful.
He stopped at her other breast to take his time there as well. His mouth descended to her belly and lingered at her hip bone. Slow. Steady. Strong. Everything she wanted in a man and he had been the only one who fit the bill.
She wanted to touch him too, but from her spot she could only reach his shoulders. “Jett, I need to touch you.”
He hopped onto his knees. “Don’t rush me, woman. I’ve got all night.”
“I see not much has changed. The ever-patient Jett Ryker.”
“You always did have a hard time with that when we were together.” He gripped her pajama pants and dragged them over her legs.
She helped him remove them and her socks. She tried not to groan at how unsexy her attire was tonight. Although he didn’t seem to mind if his full erection straining against his sweatpants was any indication. She reached for him. Knowing she could arouse him even now, looking sloppy and older, heated her up more.
He stayed on his knees and fisted his hands on his hips. Shy was not a quality to characterize this man. He flashed that devilish grin as she went up on her knees too. With her palms, she slowly pushed down his pants. His gaze never left hers. Once he was free and they both knelt there fully naked, he slipped his hand between her legs, and she nearly came in that second.
From there, even the patient Jett Ryker could not hold back. They became a tangle of hands and tongues, touching and exploring, until they were both breathless. He eased back, panting. “Birth control?”
“I haven’t had sex in two years. Haven’t bothered.”
“You haven’t?” His eyebrows shot to his hairline.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’ve had opportunities. I didn’t want them.”
“This night just got even better.” He placed a quick kiss on her lips, rummaged around in the end-table drawer, and presented a condom.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
“We can talk about that later.” He took care of the needed business and positioned himself above her. She wrapped her legs around his waist.
He entered her, and all thoughts of his past sex life were obliterated. He filled her up with slow strokes until she was too full to take any more. They rocked together like a small wave on the wet sand, each push and pull growing until the whirl became a tsunami that shook them. Sweat slicked their skins. She would never be cold again as long as Jett loved her just like this.
He held her gaze as the inflamed desire built to an unreachable height. She would never get on the other side of it no matter how high she raised her hips to meet his. He slid his fingers between them, touching the place that pushed her over the edge. He remembered. Tears sprang to her eyes as the release became relief.
He kissed her hard and long as he followed her to the end. His body shook with his own finale, and she held him close until he stilled. His lips found her salty tears.
“You don’t have to be sad anymore,” he whispered near her ear.
She doubted that was true, because even Jett couldn’t stop the sadness that always seemed to wait for her and would find her again. She might want to trust him like before but no longer remembered how. And Jett would not stick around if his woman didn’t trust him. Plus, there was still the little matter of her land.
Instead of answering, she kissed him until he was distracted enough from her surge of emotion and only wanted to be inside her again.