Chapter Twenty-nine
Sunlight.
It was coming from the wrong side of the room and Jake blinked groggily, momentarily confused. He let out a frustrated groan when he realized he also couldn’t move because a warm hand was flattened against his chest, and an equally warm leg was languidly hooked over his.
He was still in Liz’s bed. Shit.
Nothing he could do about it now. He turned his head toward her. Her hair was spilling over the pillow and across her face, her other hand tucked up under her cheek. He settled back down to just look at her, not wanting to move and wake her up just yet.
Softness etched her features, her freckled, tanned skin glowing against the white pillowcase.
She was fucking beautiful, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
His heart stilled in his chest as she shifted, adorable sleepy noises murmuring out.
He held his breath, hoping that when she finally woke up, she wouldn’t be angry.
They had collapsed into bed last night, both of them bone-tired.
He was in his boxers, and she was in his T-shirt.
They’d fallen asleep curled up with one another, neither of them initiating sex, because both of them were exhausted.
At some point Liz must have woken up because the bedside lamp was off, and she hadn’t been wearing his shirt when they’d gotten into bed.
He wasn’t sure what this meant, and he wasn’t sure about rocking the boat by prying into it. He just wanted to get out of the bed without her murdering him.
He took a chance and tucked her hair off her face, behind an ear, running his fingertips down over her cheek.
She slowly opened her eyes and met his, confusion flickering in, quickly replaced by her lower lip disappearing between her teeth.
She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he couldn’t help but grin back at her.
He knew that look. She was about to pounce.
He didn’t think he would mind that at all.
“Good morning. We seem to have broken the rule,” he murmured as calmly as he could. She stretched herself down the bed, and let out a soft groan, sliding along his body, her leg sliding up over his hips, brushing against his already hard cock.
“I can see that,” she replied, and scooted closer, laying her head on his shoulder.
Palming her hip, he ran his hand up and down her thigh, marveling that a woman who could physically master a fifteen-hundred-pound animal could, at the same time, be so delicately sensual and enticing.
She was a cacophony of contrasts. Tough, yet caring.
Strong and capable. He liked how she fit at his side like this, sleepy and soft, just as much as it turned him on to watch her work.
“You okay with this?” he ventured, and she nodded, her tongue coming out to slowly lick the nipple nearest her. It stiffened, and he hissed. He tightened his grip on her hip to her small growl of appreciation.
She took that invitation and ran her hand down his stomach, into his boxers, and circled his cock, sliding down and gently swirling back up.
He lifted his hips into her hand, and then found her mouth, pulling her up to kiss, her tongue meeting his, the intention behind that dominant gesture quite clear. It jolted his core.
If this was the greeting he’d get from her in the morning, he’d spend every night here, damn it.
As quickly as she had revved him up, she hopped out of bed, throwing the covers back over him, and ran for the bathroom. He sat up, clawing them off his face, then fell back to the bed, laughing as she slammed the door.
“Tease!” he yelled at her through the door.
She laughed, then the toilet flushed. A moment later she emerged, peeled his shirt off, and threw a strip of shiny blue foil-wrapped condoms at him, hitting him squarely in the chest.
“Saddle up, buttercup. I’m a morning person,” she drawled, and jumped onto the bed, sending the comforter flying, the springs squeaking ominously.
He laughed along with her as he set the condoms aside, grabbing her and rolling her over so she was underneath him. He looked down at her, and they both stilled.
“I know you said no overnights. I’m sorry.”
She groaned and pushed at him, but he held her firm. He wanted to make sure this wasn’t just her deflecting the intimacy they had back to something safer, not wanting to show any vulnerability. She did that so well, and he could see it as she let out a big breath and attempted more levity.
“It’s fine, Jake. I’m not mad. I like morning sex, so let’s break that rule today, okay?
” she said, her eyes shooting fire at him as she lifted her leg over his hip and nudged him into her.
He debated for a moment more before he pushed his boxers down, and kicked them off, fitting himself between her thighs, her smooth skin whispering across his as one of her heels dug into the back of his thigh.
She wanted sex, that was clear. But he was seeing something in the way she had responded to him that he hadn’t seen before, and the daredevil in him decided to call her on it.
“What’s the hurry?” he said, holding her gaze, his hands sliding over her. She let out a soft moan and wriggled underneath him.
“I want you. Now,” she said, but she broke eye contact when she said it, and he stilled. She was desperately blocking anything other than keeping it casual, and with that, he knew it was bothering her that he was still here, had stayed the night.
“I don’t want a quick fuck this morning, Liz. Let’s—” he taunted, rotating his hips into her.
“Well, it will have to be, we’ve got jobs to do.” She interrupted him, turning her head away from him to grope for the condoms on the bedspread beside them.
Damn it. Jake wanted her to tell him what was going through her head and admit that what they were doing together was more than just a casual fling, because it was preferable to her bottling up in front of him and making it impersonal.
He was going to rock the boat.
“I want to make love to you,” he said quietly, turning her head so she had to look at him.
She let out an exasperated breath, flitting a glance at him and then tilting her head away from his hand. “Whatever. Slow, fast. Just—”
He was raised above her, his heart beating a mile a minute in his chest, looking down at her. She had stiffened the moment he said make love, and it took the wind out of his sails. He sat up and moved over to the side of the bed.
“Jake,” she said, then stopped. “Come on, it’s—”
“S’okay,” he muttered, frustration slamming into his chest, utterly confusing him.
He’d pushed, he’d wanted her to open up, and when she didn’t, it reminded him of what they’d agreed to.
He was only here for a short time, neither of them looking for anything serious, right?
No connections. No romance. Definitely no “making love.”
Complications were not something either of them should do, with all the other shit going on in their lives.
But there it was. Complication.
Looking down at her, he’d wanted this to mean something more than just getting their mutual rocks off.
He wanted her to feel the same pull he felt every time he looked at her, to absorb her, never let her out of his sight.
When she had looked away, he realized she likely didn’t feel anything close to what his heart was careening toward.
He couldn’t ask that of her—she’d made that clear—and he just had.
“I need to get moving,” he said quietly. “It’s late, I think.”
He didn’t look back at her as she let out a frustrated sigh and then shifted to reach for her phone on the side table.
“It’s six a.m., Jake. Sunrise. It isn’t late.”
He stooped to grab his jeans, and her hand touched his back. He stilled, the heat from her palm sinking into his skin. He almost turned and took her in his arms, wanting that heat to spread through both of them, to make it right.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “What is it that you want?”
“Obviously not the same thing as you anymore. I—” His voice was gravelly.
“What does that even mean?” she asked. “Jake—”
“I think I just need to go. I can’t be here right now.
” He stood, stepped into his jeans, and then threw on his sweater as he scanned the room for his socks.
He swiped them from under the bed as she sat up, her hair everywhere, a sad, hurt look on her face, her hands braced behind her, throwing her chest up and out.
It was all he could do not to crawl back onto the bed and bury himself in her, tell her that this was more for him, laying her out and dragging the connection he knew she felt out of her by sheer sexual force.
The idea of slowly rocking in and out of her was making him ache, to tell her anything he could to make her see, to feel the way his heart was hammering in his chest because of how much he wanted her. Not sex. Her.
But he didn’t.
If he did, he knew he would fall over the fucking cliff and she would be the one who pushed him.
* * *
The barn office was empty except for the grumpy ginger tabby that haunted the front area of the barns, and Jake frowned.
He needed to talk to Tanner; the morning meal prep was done and now he had to go through payroll with him, but he couldn’t find him in all the usual places.
Tanner’s truck was still parked at the house, so he wasn’t out inspecting any of the pastured cattle, and Jake counted all three tractors still in their parking spots, so Tanner wasn’t out on one of them either.