Chapter 19
Revelation
Shane nuzzled Amy’s hair, loving the silky texture and the lavender-vanilla fragrance trapped in her strands. “I hope you don’t mind that we’re taking a breather. That was … intense.”
“I don’t mind. What you were doing to me … That was pretty intense too.”
He covered her breast and looked down at his hand resting on her chest. “I like these.”
“Everyone’s, or mine in particular?” she snickered.
He snorted. “Let’s say I have a general appreciation, but I especially like yours. They might be my favorites.” With his fingertip, he drew a tiny circle above her breast.
“Good to know.” She clasped her hands and pillowed them beneath her head. “Can I ask you something?”
His alarms came on board and readied for defensive maneuvers. “Yeah, of course.”
“Did you ever, um, sleep with Estelle?”
Relief waved through him. This one he could answer without an iota of guilt, and he rushed to reassure her.
“Nope. Never had any interest.” Estelle and he had shared one long, tangled kiss that should have shaken desire loose inside him, but it hadn’t even fanned an ember.
Nothing like the way kissing Amy set every cell in his body ablaze.
Then again, nothing compared to kissing Amy, and now his bar was set so high he couldn’t fathom any other woman reaching it.
Probably best to stick with kissing only Amy.
Oh yeah, he could definitely live with that.
“I have another question.”
“Okay. Shoot.” His cock had gone from full mast to half, but now, as his fingers got a little busier trailing along the underside of her breast, it perked up. He traced more circles, these with more intent as they closed in on her stiffening peak. He pictured sucking it into his mouth and—
“What did Micky say that upset you so much?”
His fingers stopped their meandering, and his dick withered as pieces of the conversation echoed in his mind.
His eyes drifted to the foot of the bed.
First Micky had railed at Shane for helping Amy move.
Then he’d demanded to know where she was.
Shane had held his temper and kept his voice low and even, but it hadn’t kept Micky’s tirade from ramping up.
The final straw came when he’d yelled, “You tell that bitch she needs to get on her knees and beg if she expects me to take her back. If she’s real lucky, I’ll let her suck my dick.
If she does a good job, then I’ll decide whether to let her move back in.
And by a good job, I mean better than the ones I pay for from a professional who knows what the hell she’s doing. ”
Fury flashed anew inside Shane at the recall, and he quelled a desire to hunt Micky down and bloody the motherfucker’s filthy mouth.
Not only had Micky shown total disrespect for an amazing woman who deserved to be cherished, but he’d admitted to cheating on her.
With “professionals.” Had he ever considered what diseases he might have passed on to her?
“Shane?” Amy’s soft voice pierced his veil of red.
Raising his gaze, he looked at her sweet face, and his anger melted. He gave her a soft smile.
“Yeah, I’m here. Micky didn’t really say anything we hadn’t heard before. He was being Micky, which is enough to piss off pretty much everyone.”
Nodding, she seemed to accept his lame dodge. For now.
Comfortable silence settled over them once more. He relaxed beside her, feeling so right. His hands began to roam again, his mind along with them as it imagined him burying himself inside her. Anticipation tingled, racing up and down his spine.
“You met my parents when they visited,” she started, “but I know little about yours. Your mom lives out of town somewhere, you have brothers, and your great-greats helped settle the town, but that’s all I know.”
Pillow talk before … pillowing? And she wanted details on his background? Fair enough, considering the forever he wanted from her. As he held her, he filled in some of the blanks.
“I come from a long line of ne’er do wells.
My ancestors were outcasts from the get-go, Irish Catholics in a community of Protestants.
And while families like the Hunnicutts were getting rich off the mines, my great-great-whatever was a drunk who couldn’t be trusted below ground.
So they slapped a badge on him and gave him a gun. ”
Amy choked back a laugh. “Wait. So a dangerous drunk miner was given a gun and told to enforce the law?”
“Yep. So there you go. I have no idea how effective he was at enforcing, but based on the few records I’ve unearthed from the times, I don’t think he was very well-liked, especially by the bar owners. I think he used his badge mostly to get free booze.”
She let out a cute laugh. “Sounds scandalous. And the rest of your family?”
He knew what she was doing—she was poking around the subject of his dad. Well, he was not about to let Micky or his father ruin tonight.
“We’ve been trying to live down his reputation ever since.” He rolled her onto her back and took her mouth, one kiss flowing into another and another until there was no beginning and no end.
“I’ll tell you what’s really scandalous, though,” he murmured against her neck. “It’s the fact that we have so much unfinished business to take care of.”
He kissed a path down her throat and over her chest, landing on a bud he flicked and licked and swirled with his tongue. Her sighs and squirms told him he’d succeeded in distracting her.
“My turn for a question,” he whispered, lifting his head and interrupting his mouth’s assault for a beat.
“Hmm?”
He trailed his hand down to her belly button and gently probed the intriguing stud decorating it, but he couldn’t make out the shape by touch alone. “When did you get this?”
“Um, three or four years ago? I think.” Her voice was thick, far-off. Then she pressed his head to her other breast. “Please don’t stop.”
Chuckling, he went back to work, tending to her a little more forcefully. “Better?” He’d revisit that stud and figure out what it was later. Something to look forward to.
“Mmm, yes. So good.”
His hand drifted down until it found what it sought.
She cocked a knee and let her leg drop to the side, opening herself up to him.
As his mouth worked over her breast, he pushed a finger into her slick heat, pulling a moan from her.
Her body was a sensual live wire, and the way she responded to his touch made the caveman inside him beat his chest.
“More,” she implored. When he peeked up at her, her eyes were squeezed shut, and one hand clutched the sheets while the other dug its digits into his scalp.
He added a second finger, and she gasped, releasing the sheet and gripping his bicep. A third, and her body bucked. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down.
Working his fingers in and out, he grew fascinated by the way her body writhed. Eager to discover what gave her the most pleasure, he changed the angle, the friction, the tempo, studying her beautiful face as it contorted with her rising euphoria. Euphoria he was delivering.
When he thought she was on that brightest of edges, he added his thumb and sucked her nipple hard. Instantly, her nails bit into his bicep, and her entire body spasmed.
“Oh, my God! Oh, Shane!”
The sound of his name as she cried out nearly undid him right then and there. He gritted his teeth, holding himself together as he rode out her orgasm with her, loving the shifting expressions on her face as she came down. Every single one was a work of art.
Her eyelids lifted, and she looked down at him with something akin to wonder in her eyes, and they hadn’t even done the deed yet. He felt like a god.
He crawled up her luscious body, delighting in how the flush from her climax gave her skin a rosy-golden glow, and settled beside her. Arm draped across her chest, he covered a breast and nuzzled her neck and earlobe. “I love your skin.”
She craned her head to look at him. “You do?” The uncertainty in her voice slayed him.
He feathered his forefinger across her cheek. “Yeah. I love how soft it is. I love the color. I always have.” He pushed tendrils from her face and tucked them behind her ear, his eyes mining hers. If she could see into his soul, maybe she’d believe he meant every word.
The back of her hand glided up and down his arm, then strayed to his chest. She flattened her palm against his left pec before skimming it across his abdomen, making his muscles contract. Soon her fingertips danced over his weeping cock. Unable to stop himself, he groaned with her caresses.
“I want you inside me, Shane,” she whispered.
Without a word, he sat up and snagged a condom from the end table that doubled as a nightstand.
She watched his every movement as he tore it open and rolled it on.
Then he hovered above her, forearms bracketing her as he held himself back, straining not to plunge inside her.
She surprised him when she tapped his shoulder in a signal for him to lie back.
Letting her take charge, he stretched out and watched her straddle him, arranging his sheathed cock in front of herself.
A small, suggestive smile played over her lips while her dainty fingers stroked him.
She was feminine sexuality and hotness on steroids—a sensual sensation overload.
God, had he died and gone to heaven?
Apparently not because an instant later, she lifted her bottom and slid down his shaft, taking him in, inch by mind-bending inch. In that instant, he did die and go to heaven.
Holy mother of …!
Leaning forward, she planted her palms on his shoulders.
Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her lips softened and parted.
She began to rock slowly. His eyes remained wide open, and he roved his shameless gaze all over her, from her long hair hanging like a lacy curtain over her swaying tits to the stud gleaming in her belly button to her triangle devouring his needy cock.
Her smooth thighs pressed to either side of his torso, and he ran his hands along them until he cupped her ass, helping her ride him harder.
Soon his eyes closed too, and he was thrusting up into her, nothing in his conscious mind but the sensation of being enveloped by Amy, the smell of her filling his nose.
Amy Caufield was using his body to reach that high point of carnal pleasure.
Her body undulated, her legs quivered, and she practically hummed as she chased her orgasm.
Her breathing grew more labored, more erratic, and he stilled as another tremor ripped through her.
He snapped his eyes open in time to see her straighten and drop her head back, eyes shut tight.
Her hair tickled his thighs, but that’s not what he noticed.
It was her beautiful body shuddering above him as ripple after ripple waved through her.
Her muscles clenched, squeezing him like a vise.
He willed himself not to come, to let her ride out her ecstasy while he watched her do it.
A wail escaped her, and her body seized. For several beats, all was quiet except the buzz of a light bulb and their mingled heaving breaths. Finally, her eyes opened. She braced herself on his chest, and her skin glistened with the dew of her orgasm. She was a fucking vision.
Every ounce of his willpower had been taxed by holding himself back from his own release. Now he rose up and flipped her on her back, somehow managing to stay lodged inside her.
Her eyes widened in surprise, then shone with a lusty gleam. “You made me come twice. It’s only fair for you to take a turn, Deputy.”
Why did her calling him “Deputy” turn him on so much? Something to ponder later.
Lacing his fingers with hers, he pulled her arms above her head.
He rocked into the cradle of her pelvis, his movements slow and easy.
“I hear third time’s the charm.” Dropping his mouth to hers, he kissed her with the same fervor roiling in his body, sucking her tongue into his mouth and tangling them together.
A beat later, he changed it up, stroking his tongue into her mouth, matching the cadence of his flexing hips as he thrust deep inside her.
His rhythm picked up, and her hips rose to meet his, their bodies slamming as they came together.
He tore his mouth away. “You feel so fucking good.” The words were drawn-out gasps as he fought for breath.
Moans and mewls and whimpers rolled from her, their pitch climbing, driving him to pound harder and harder, faster and faster.
“Oh God, Shane!” she shrieked. “Yes!”
Her cry sent him sailing over the edge, and he felt her judder before she followed him over.
Consciousness crept back to him in fits and starts, and he found himself collapsed on top of her, her arms encircling him. He’d heard “la petite mort” used to describe an orgasm before, but he’d never understood the idiom. The little death. Holy Jesus, he totally got it now.
“That was … I never knew it could be like that,” she gasped. Her breath ruffled his hair pleasantly.
Neither did I.
More cognizant of his body now, he lifted his head. “Am I crushing you?”
“No, I like having your weight on top of me. Makes me feel … safe.” Smiling, she toyed with his hair.
He probably looked like one of those cartoon characters after sticking their fingers into an electrical socket, but he didn’t care.
In this moment, he only cared that this beautiful woman who had haunted his dreams was in his bed, smiling at him.
“Let me take care of this.” He rolled off her and hurried to the bathroom, where he disposed of the condom and cleaned up.
He grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge on his way back to her. “Hydration,” he explained as he crawled between the sheets. They would need it if he could rally for round two, and he definitely planned on a rally. He’d always been an optimist.
As he settled back beside her, he gathered her up and cradled her in his arms, thumbing hair from her face as he dropped kisses along her jaw, her throat, her eyes, finally landing on her lips. He licked into her mouth with languid strokes. “I love how you taste.”
Her arms wound around his neck with a fierceness that stole his breath. “Tell me this is real, Shane,” she whispered.
He leveled his eyes on hers. “It’s real, Amy.”
What they had kindled was more intense and more real than any other connection he’d ever experienced in his life. He understood what it meant to be willing to die for someone. Maybe the realization had taken this long because he’d never been in love before her.