Chapter 8
JEREMIAH
Fucking hell.
Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Lennon Graves out in the summer storm wearing nothing but skimpy shorts and a tank top, the outline of her body limned in gold from the light shining through her cabin window.
She stood there with her face tilted to the sky as if she were offering herself to the gods.
I took what they couldn’t, my gaze eating up every part of her.
She knew I was there, even though she didn’t look at me.
I came this way at the same time every morning, doing a quick pass by the guest cabins to make sure all was well before heading to the pastures to bring in the horses.
Ever since Lennon’s first morning here, when she told me not to sneak up on girls in the dark, I had made sure she could hear me coming.
She’d learned a lesson from our first encounter, too, and always had her coat on when I came through.
Truthfully, every morning I told myself she wouldn’t be out here, and every morning I hoped she’d prove me wrong, and she had.
But today…today I’d felt like a fool stomping along, knowing there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of Lennon being out in this storm. With the rain coming down in heavy sheets, I hadn’t even hoped for it.
Yet here she was. Her tanned skin was slick with rain.
Rivers of it dripped from her raised chin and sluiced down her throat, following the ridge of her clavicle down to the full slopes of her breasts.
I wanted to trace the path with my tongue, lick up every drop that disappeared into her deep cleavage.
No coat. Her shorts seemed to wither into nothing more than underwear, and the thin cotton of her tank top turned sheer. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I could clearly see the dusky outline of her areolas and peaked nipples. My cock stirred because I had thoughts about licking those, too.
Thoughts I had no business having.
What the hell was wrong with me? She was a guest here.
People came to Mercy River for healing, not depravity.
I didn’t trust her, and that was all the more reason to stop imagining the taste of her nipples in my mouth.
A decent man would look away, but Gabriel could have blown his trumpet to summon us back to heaven, and I would still be standing here, staring at Lennon’s breasts.
Fuck, they were magnificent.
“Lennon,” I rasped, my throat the only dry thing left on the planet, which was fucking unfair given the circumstances.
I had felt attraction. Lust, even. But I had never known what it truly meant to thirst until now, and this woman was all that could quench it.
She looked at me then, blinking the raindrops from her eyes. “Hey.” Her voice was barely audible over the soft roar of the rain pelting the dirt.
She ran her hands over her hair, past her ears, down her neck, squeezing the water from her skin as she went, and then left her hands there, cupping the sides of her throat. Her elbows pushed her breasts together.
Could a man die from this? It felt like I could die from this.
“Lennon.” I exhaled her name nearly against her lips.
When had I gotten so close? I had no recollection of crossing her yard, but I was already unzipping my trench coat, opening it wide, and wrapping her inside with me.
The rain streaming down the brim of my hat would have hit her upturned face, so I took it off and held it over her head.
“What are you doing out here in the storm, honey?”
Her gaze lifted to my hat and then slowly lowered to my face with a baffled expression. She rested her hands on my chest, her fingers fiddling with the top button of my shirt. “I wanted…”
A raindrop fell from her nose to her bottom lip, and her tongue peeked out to swipe it up. My vision tunneled until that pink, plush mouth was all I could see. I might have made a sound, a quiet, needy groan. I hoped to everything holy she hadn’t heard me.
She shivered. Her wet body had soaked through my flannel, but I tightened my fist on the placket of my trench coat and pulled her closer. Too close, maybe. With her hips flush to mine, she felt every hard inch of how she affected me.
Her eyes widened, but then her lips tilted into a wry smile. “I wanted to play in the rain. What about you? Why are you out here?” Her voice turned sultry as she leaned in. “Do you want to play with me, Jeremiah?”
Fuck yes, my dick screamed, which was why my dick wasn’t in charge of me. What was more alarming was that every cell in my body agreed with it. My gut was normally reliable at keeping me out of trouble—and hell, I knew this woman was trouble—but right now it was flashing nothing but green lights.
Fuck it—
Her teeth chattered. My brain kicked on and I exhaled harshly. With my arm banded around her waist, I lifted her off her feet and walked us both onto her porch, with her muddy toes kicking me in the shins. “Inside. Now.”
She laughed as I set her down. “All right, caveman. I need to shower before I head to the lodge to make your breakfast, anyway.”
My breakfast—for me and a dozen other cowboys. But the way she said it made it feel more intimate. Like her effort was for me alone. Maybe I was a caveman because damn, that sounded good.
I waited for her to gather her shoes and coat. She sent me a look over her shoulder, like she was trying to figure out what I was still doing there.
“You look like you could use a hot shower yourself,” she said.
I turned and walked away so I wouldn’t take that as an invitation. The rain kept coming down as I stalked to the lodge, but I didn’t feel a single drop of it. Holly was at the front desk when I pushed through the double doors.
She arched her eyebrows at me. “Coffee?”
“Shower,” I said shortly and made for the stairs that lead to my living quarters on the top floor.
The moment the door clicked shut behind me, I pressed my hands to my face and hollered into them.
It didn’t do a damn thing to ease the frustration.
I kicked off my boots and fought my way out of my overcoat like it was a wrestling match and I was losing.
Agitation made me clumsy, and I slammed my shoulder into the doorjamb on my way to the bathroom.
Fucking hell. I didn’t even know what temperature to set the shower.
My skin was cold, but I felt like I was burning up inside.
I flipped the knob to the middle, stripped off my flannel and jeans, and got in.
The spray hit my skin and all I could think about was Lennon slick with rain.
I slapped the knob, spinning it to as hot as it could go.
Maybe it could scald the image of her from my brain.
Her wet mouth. The shape of her nipples. The glint in her eyes when she asked if I wanted to play. Fuck—fuck. I turned around so the spray hit me in the shoulder blades, then turned around again. If I stopped moving for even a second, I’d—
My hand gripped my cock before my brain could finish that thought.
For a moment, I paused. Tried to talk myself out of it.
It had been a long time since I’d done this—I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d needed to.
I’d always treated it like stress relief.
Clear my head, settle my gut before a mission. Lust had never factored into it.
But this…I couldn’t pretend this was about anything but her.
Fuck it. I was doing it anyway.
I let my hand move, let it slide up my shaft as I remembered her tongue licking the raindrop from her lip, let it pump a little faster as I imagined that tongue licking me.
I didn’t hold back my groan as I pictured her on her knees, looking up at me with those big doe eyes.
Her breasts bare and bouncing as she worked me with that luscious mouth.
But I wouldn’t come there. Not in her mouth. I wanted—fucking hell, what had this woman awakened in me with all her talk about facials? Tightening my grip, I tried to think of anything else. But I swiped my thumb over the tip, felt the moisture beading there, and couldn’t stop.
I wanted to paint her with my cum. I wanted to watch it hit her puffy lips, her throat, her breasts. I wanted her to lick my cum from her lips like the raindrop, and then lick me clean, too.
My hand moved faster, my hips jerking. I came so fucking hard I splashed the tile with it. I fell forward on a roar, my hand slapping the wall. My chest heaved as I caught my breath from a full-body orgasm that had been unlike anything I’d ever experienced before in my life.
Slowly, my breathing steadied. My heartbeat slowed to its regular beat. The hot water felt good on my neck and shoulders, my back and its thick scars.
I flipped the faucet to cold.