Chapter 25
The drive had sucked, and Trask was never so happy to see the turn-off into his parents’ driveway. Of course, the snow was eight inches deep at this point, so he had to crawl down the unplowed entry, but his excitement couldn’t be quelled.
Jett was waiting for him at the end of this long trip.
And if what she’d teased him about was an indicator of things to come, he wasn’t going to hold back any longer. He was going to make sure both of their wildest fantasies come true. Fantasies…
Fuck.
Again with the cock-stand.
Trask grumbled. He didn’t want to wear his appendage out before he even got started.
A snort slipped from between his lips.
Right. Fat chance.
When he finally parked in what had become his customary spot ten feet from the porch, Trask gave a huge exhale of relief at being home, then opened his door.
He’d barely gotten his feet planted when his body got slammed by…
An armful of warm woman.
Whoa.
Had he ever been greeted like that before?
The easy answer was no.
Jett had smashed up against him, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and she was peppering his face with kisses.
Trask was struck dumb.
Best. Welcome. Ever.
He buried his nose in her bare neck, and…
Bare neck?
“You crazy woman,” he groused. “No coat? Don’t you know there’s a storm going on out here?”
“There’s a bigger storm going on inside me,” she told him breathlessly. “And it’s ready to break. So you’d better do something about it, or it might rage out of control.”
Exactly his intent. Eventually.
As much as Trask wanted to take Jett up on that right away, there were a few logistics that, in her enthusiasm, she’d forgotten.
“Uh, dogs?” he posed, still reveling in the feel of her; drawing in her warm, rich scent, reluctant to let her go.
“Crap,” she replied, sliding her legs down from around his midsection, bypassing his hips to plant her feet in the snow.
Giving a sigh, she slipped and slid toward the back door of his truck and opened it wide.
“Babies!” she cried, grabbing each one before they jumped out. She hugged them around their necks and showing them as much enthusiasm as she’d just showered on Trask.
“Oh. I see where I stand,” he quipped. “A half step below your mutts.”
She laughed, glancing over at him. The dogs took that opportunity to jump out willy-nilly, which had her tumbling backward into the snow.
“Oooh!” she squealed as the icy precipitation enveloped her. “That’s cold.”
The dogs instantly thought her being prone was a game, and pig-piled on, dancing around and over her downed body.
She ended up roaring hysterically, which also tickled Trask.
But as amusing as it was, before Jett got frostbite, Trask decided to call it.
“Boys. Sit,” he commanded.
Both beasts’ butts obediently hit the snow, and they looked up at him expectantly, tongues drooling, anticipating that he might want to join the fun.
Instead, he gave them a stay signal, bent down, and easily lifted Jett from the snow, bringing her aloft to be cradled in his arms.
Flakes clung to her pale lashes, and Trask couldn’t help himself. He tipped his head forward and swiped his tongue at the small bits of snow.
Jett groaned at the contact. “Inside. Quick. Before I make you get naked out here, which I know you won’t like,” she warned him.
It didn’t exactly sound terrible to him, but inside would definitely be better.
He turned his feet toward the house. “Come,” he said to the dogs who had just peed on every bush within reach.
The foursome made their way up the steps, onto the porch, and after stomping off, into the mudroom.
“Stay,” Trask ordered the furry pair again as he kicked the door closed behind him.
“Uh, Trask?” His wet-woman bundle called for his attention as they entered the kitchen.
“Yes, Jett?’ He nuzzled her earlobe with his cold nose, and she eeped.
“Umm, as much as I love this, a wise man once pointed out to me that I was forgetting something.”
“Mmm. What’s that?” he asked.
“The dogs,” she reminded him. “I should towel the boys off, or they’re never going to dry.”
She was right. The mudroom was heated, but not overly so. His parents kept it at sixty degrees in the winter.
“Fine,” he said with an audible exhale. “We’ll do it together. But then you’re getting into a hot shower.”
Her eyes widened and she licked her bottom lip.
“With you?” she asked huskily.
That hadn’t been Trask’s intent… Well, maybe it had. It sure was a great idea.
“With me,” he declared, decision made.
“Sweet!” Her huge smile came back, and she wiggled in his hold. “Then let me down right now so I can take care of the dogs, then we’ll get to the good stuff.”
Trask wasn’t above teasing as he placed her feet on the floor.
“Wait. What about that food you promised me? I haven’t eaten since breakfast, you know, and I’m starving.”
Trask was hungry, but in all seriousness, he didn’t give a damn about his stomach at the moment. He’d soon be feasting on something else if he was reading the room correctly.
Still, he wasn’t going to show that hand until he had Jett pouting.
“Um, I did make food. It’s all cooked, and I put it in the oven to stay warm,” she returned hesitantly. “You…want to eat while I shower?”
The look of disappointment on her face fed Trask’s ego, but enough was enough. He wanted her excitement back.
“I can’t do both at the same time?” he posited, glancing down at the V of her legs. “Eat and shower?” His nostrils flared.
Jett blinked and…the sun came out over her visage once again as she discerned his intent.
“Why, yes, Mr. Sothard. I do believe that your palate and your need to get clean can both be satisfied,” she purred.
He turned her around and gave her a swat on her behind.
“Then go get those towels, woman, or the dogs will end up shivering for who knows how long.”
Trask sighed internally.
It was downright cruel putting his cock after the dogs again, but anticipation was supposed to be good for the soul. So…
If he didn’t shame himself and explode at Jett’s first touch, he’d call it a win. His dick had pretty much been on edge, all day.
Jett swiftly toed off her soaked sneakers, and disappeared almost before those thoughts were out of his head.
She returned just as quickly, throwing one towel to him before they went out to the mudroom and got to work.
Jett knelt and took care of Tinker while Trask tackled Langly, and within minutes the furry pair were dry enough to settle down on their beds.
“Can we bring them in later?” Jett asked, kissing each one of her mutts on the nose. “I’m afraid with all the wind whipping things up, it might get a little too cold out here for them.”
Sixty was probably nothing for the pair, but Jett was a soft touch.
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Trask agreed. “But they’ll be fine for a while. Right now we need to get you warm,” he ordered gruffly.
She smiled up at him, and with an angelic look on her face, she turned and wiggled her pert ass into the house, bits of melting snow still dripping from the ends of her blonde curls.
Beautiful.
Trask jettisoned his boots and followed her in.
He tossed his wet coat on the floor and didn’t let her get more than five feet into the house before scooping her up again.
Jett laughed as he carried her directly to, and up the stairs.
“I could get used to this,” she told him giddily.
Trask could too, and that’s exactly the thing that had previously scared the wits out of him.
But Jett was just so compelling with her constant, light-hearted disposition, that she’d somehow overruled all his trepidation.
He had to have her.
And he had to have her right the hell now.
Clearly, Jett felt the same.
She was already working the buttons on his shirt, and his hand—the one attached to the arm under her legs—was busy yanking the socks off her…ice-cube feet.
“Why aren’t you complaining about the cold,” he growled. “Your frigid.”
She hummed and continued on his shirt. “I think you’ll find that I’m not. Frigid, that is. Am I cold? Maybe. But I’m not feeling anything but heat right now.”
“Good answer,” he returned, but the bossy, take-charge side of him was still worried.
He needed to get her into the shower right away and warm her up before they got down to any other business.
Kisses and love bites were applied assiduously to his clavicle as he marched them into the bathroom, and Jett must have magic in her mouth, because his nipples had hardened.
He couldn’t remember a time when that had ever happened.
His cock, certainly, but other parts of his body always remained… neutral.
Not so with Jett.
Fuck.
He was in serious trouble here, but Trask was too far gone to stop now. And even if he had the wherewithal, Jett obviously had his number. The witchy-woman would find a way to draw him back in.
Not letting her down, Trask reached in and started the shower to warm it up.
In this old farmhouse, it took a few minutes for the pipes to deliver the right temperature all the way up from the far basement.
Eventually and reluctantly he put her down.
She immediately reached for the snap on her jeans, and it triggered his dominant side.
“No. Mine.” He overruled.
Stalking forward, he removed her hands and scowled down at her.
Clearly not intimidated in the least, Jett backed up a step, grinned, then sassily placed both hands on top of her head.
“Have at it. Sir,” she added, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.
Christ. She was destroying him.
There was a slight tremble in his fingers as he slowly undressed her, one piece of clothing at a time; something else to which he was unaccustomed. Normally he was steady as a rock, and used disrobing as a way to stay in control.
To say he was not exactly steady, was an understatement.
And he was still a bit confused. What was the big deal? He’d already seen her completely unclothed.
Which should have dulled the magic.
At least a little bit.
But…it hadn’t.