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Authors: Sarina Bowen

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BOOK: Coming in from the Cold
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He carried her through a dark dining room. Beyond it lay a sliver of daylight. As Dane approached, he saw the quilted end of a bed. With four more strides he was there, depositing her gently on its surface, spilling open her robe, exposing her body to his eyes. She didn’t cover herself. Instead, she watched his face as his gaze devoured her.

Dane pulled off his T-shirt, then dropped his jeans and his briefs in one motion. He knelt down beside her on the bed. He feasted on the sight of her at close range—those mounded breasts with rosy-pink nipples, feminine curves at her hips. Sliding onto the bed, he spread himself out on her body, covering her, touching every inch at once. She was smaller and softer than the ski team Amazons he usually consorted with. He smoothed her hair onto the sheet, dropping kisses into the curve of her neck.

He felt her hands reach around him, kneading and smoothing the muscles of his back. Then Willow’s surprisingly strong hands moved down to grasp the muscles in his ass, stroking and rubbing him, her fingertips dropping to graze his balls until he groaned. His hips twitched with longing, but it was just dawning on him that he had a problem. “I want you so bad,” he said, laying his hard shaft between her legs. “But I don’t have another condom.”

Willow looked up at him, cupping her hands to the back of his head, entangling her fingers in his hair. Then she bent her knees, squeezing his hips with her legs. “Kiss me,” she gasped. And when he covered her mouth with his, she stroked him with her tongue, her hands braced against his back. He was so aroused, he thought he might just combust if she kept kissing him that way.

She broke off, saying, “I’m on the pill.”

Dane closed his eyes and tried to think. Between her parted legs, he was all too conscious of the wetness there, slicking the base of his cock with her desire.

But rules were rules.

He shook his head. “I never go without a condom. I won’t even use a different brand.” Then he kissed her, his lips biting and tasting her lower lip.

It sure as hell wasn’t personal.

Willow gave the most erotic sigh he had ever heard. “Well, there are many other lovely ways I can make you happy.”

Dane slid down her body, his tongue on her neck, her breast. “I like the sound of that.”

But first, he would make her come.

He dragged his lips down to her hip bone, where his tongue did a lazy stroke. Then he slid his palm onto the sweet mound between her legs, and she whimpered, her thighs falling open to him.

Dane chuckled at the wanton pleasure of it all. Most mornings, he was at the gym, beating his muscles into submission or strapping on his slalom skis for three hours of drills. But in broad daylight he lay in this white bed, his face on the velvety skin of a beautiful woman. Maybe he could make her shout his name. At a slow pace designed to tease, he dragged his hand down, thumb sliding slyly into her folds, where the moisture waited.

She moaned, long and low.

He spread her legs gently, his mouth landing on her inner thigh. His lips spread wide, he sucked on her skin. With his thumb, he did a slow circle around her clit. Willow groaned, gripping the bed sheet with both hands.

Taking his sweet time, Dane nosed into her blond curls, and he felt her body contract with expectation. Then he slid two fingers inside her, while his tongue swept across her swollen sex.

She was panting now, her fingers reaching for him, brushing his ears, his shoulders, whatever she could reach. He flattened his tongue onto her, his fingers thrusting inside. She rolled her hips up to meet him, giving herself over to her desire. Every little noise she made, every whimper, every breath, turned him on. He wanted so badly to be a part of her, to bury himself inside her and never come out again. Dane heard himself groan with frustration.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please.”

Later, he would remember that her pleading was nonspecific. The request could have meant anything. But she was speaking to
him
, asking him for more. And he’d never wanted to give himself to anyone so badly in his life. The lure of the full experience—the beautiful girl, and the luxury of a morning in her kitchen, and then in her arms—was more than he could withstand. And then he was in motion, climbing her on sheer adrenaline. Hiking himself up onto her chest, with a single thrust he pushed his cock deep inside.

And holy…he caught his breath.

At once, his miscalculation was all too obvious. For a man whose goal in life was to feel almost nothing, he’d just thrust himself into heart-stopping moment. The wet velvet feel of her against his naked skin was so overwhelming that he froze, stilling himself, his face in her hair.

Willow whimpered again, her arousal taking over. Her hips rocked beneath him, and the sensation nearly shot him through the roof. Wet and warm, her body cradled him, held him, and it was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

He heard his own growling moan. He thrust his hips once, twice, the sensation knocking him to near oblivion. His own body was like a foreign country, driven by an unfamiliar yearning he didn’t know he owned. Every inch of him was hypersensitive. He could feel the friction of her breasts against his chest, even her hands on his back seemed to burn him up. It was too much, and he felt himself breaking. He tensed for it—for the familiar sensation of climax. But that isn’t what happened. It was something else, and it took Dane a moment to figure out what.

There were tears springing from the corners of his eyes. Actual tears.

What the fuck?

His surprise was enough to wake up that part of Dane that was always intent on maintaining control of the situation. He pulled out quickly. And just as Willow opened her eyes in surprise, he rolled off her and onto his side, then turned her small body with two hands, until she was facing away from him. Holding her hips in his hands, he thrust upward again, entering her from behind.

And there it was again, that amazing feeling. Holy hell. She was like a path of honey; he could dip himself in and out forever and want nothing more. “Sweet, sweet thing,” he choked out, his hips moving on their own volition.

His heart hammering, Dane reached a hand over Willow’s hip and between her legs, flicking her clit with his thumb. She arched her back, leaning that sweet ass of hers into him with a gasp.

“Sweet, sweet,” he whispered, his voice shaking.

Willow’s body strained against him. “Oh, God,” she said. “
Dane
.”

He bucked into her, flying high. He buried his face in her hair and thrust harder.

Willow grabbed his hand, pressing it down on her sex. As he rolled the heel of his hand onto her, she came hard, moaning and straining, her body squeezing his cock in an embrace. And then he couldn’t hold on a moment longer. He burst into her, pouring himself into a woman’s body for the first time. With his hand that was still clamped over her, he slammed her against his hips once, twice, three times, until finally he could rest.

Dane’s heart thundered in his chest, and he sucked in air. Between his legs, he could feel Willow tight on him, her body still milking tiny contractions around his cock. He had never felt anything so beautiful. He panted into the nape of her neck, her hair sticking to his face, which was still wet from his tears.

Willow turned her chin toward him, tilting her shoulder as if to face him.

Dane clamped both of his arms around her. He curled one of his long legs over hers, holding her tight, but keeping her facing away.
Calm down
, he told himself. He stroked her breast and tried to measure out his breaths to slow himself.

Willow curled a hand around his and squeezed. The tears leaking from his eyes still came. He lay quietly, trying not to sniff.

It was just that he’d been up all night. It must be exhaustion breaking him down. Turning him into a total pussy.

He closed his eyes. With his hand on Willow’s chest, he could feel her own breathing lengthen and slow. His body listening to hers, he finally began to relax.

* * *

Willow lay locked into his embrace wondering what had just happened.

She’d felt it again, an odd intensity between them, unfurling when they touched. And now he clung to her, like a drowning man to a life preserver. She closed her eyes, memorizing the feel of his powerful chest against her shoulders.

They fit together perfectly.

Chapter Seven

Dane woke up slowly, sunlight against his eyelids. As he came to, he realized that one of his arms was still curled around Willow’s waist. The shock of waking up next to her sent his pulse racing.

Jesus, dude!
What are you still doing here?

Blinking at the curve of her neck, it was cruelly apparent just how far he’d strayed from the plan. And he couldn’t even count how many of his own rules he’d broken.

Go, asshole. Now.

Carefully, he eased his arm off of her body. Willow sighed in her sleep, rolling onto her stomach, her face still turned away from him.

His heart pounding, Dane counted to sixty. Then, he slid carefully off the bed. As noiselessly as possible, he gathered up his clothes, carrying them into the kitchen. There he speedily got dressed, put on his coat and boots and stepped outside.

The cold air greeted him, snow crunching under his feet. He sucked the chill into his lungs, and Vermont’s piney scent began to do its work on him. Outdoors, under an open sky stretched between two mountain ranges, his life slid back into control.

He walked into Willow’s garage. He found her snow shovel leaning against the door.
That’s right, Dane. Time to dig your way out of this one.

Carrying the shovel, he began to walk down her driveway. As he descended, he saw a tow truck lumbering along the road, slowing down as it approached.

Dane picked up his pace and ran to meet it.

* * *

Willow woke up alone.

Sitting up in her empty bed, she listened. The stillness of her house was so complete that she knew at once he was gone.

Easy
, she cautioned herself.
Don’t you dare be surprised
.

Still, there was no denying that she hoped he wasn’t really gone. She dressed quickly. In the kitchen, he was nowhere to be found. There was no evidence he’d ever been there at all, save a single juice glass on the table and the raw feeling of her bitten lips.

Willow shrugged on her coat and began to look around for the keys to her truck, which she’d left on the table. But they were nowhere to be found. Just as she began to worry, she heard an engine. Out the kitchen window, she saw her truck pull up the drive and into the garage. A few seconds later, Dane emerged with her snow shovel, which he leaned against the side.

She stuffed her feet into her boots and clomped outside. “It started!” she said. “Oh, my God, thank-you so much.”

He smiled, but his eyes didn’t quite meet hers. “The tow truck pulled her out of the ditch,” he said. “When I cleaned out the tail pipe, she started right up.”

“And your Jeep?”

“I’m back in business.” He gave her another smile, but accompanied by the same shifty gaze.

Oh no
, her heart said.

“I’m so embarrassed that I slept through that,” she said.

He shook his head. “It took no time at all,” he said. “The guy was in and out.”

Just like you’re about to be
, Willow thought. She felt her face get hot. “Did he leave me a bill?” she asked.

He waved off the question. “I took care of it.” Then Dane stuck a hand in his pocket, jingling his keys. “I’ve got to get on the road now,” he said. He took one step closer.

“Right,” Willow whispered, crossing her arms on her chest, steeling herself for his rejection. He still would not look her in the eye. Instead, he took one more step, putting an arm around her shoulder. Then he kissed her.

“Mmm,” she could not help but sigh. Even if his eyes said no, his mouth was warm and loving. He tasted her slowly. For a heart-stopping minute Willow wondered if he would come back inside.

But then he pulled back, whispering in her ear. “Goodbye, Willow.”

She didn’t trust herself to say anything. She could only hug herself with her arms as he finally met her eyes. They were as blue as the sky, and held hers for a long moment. Then, with what looked like reluctance, he turned his back and walked away.

Willow watched him start down the driveway at a walk, wondering if he’d turn around and wave. Instead, he accelerated into a run, long strides carrying him toward the road.

She went back into her kitchen, weighed down by her own disappointment.

Chapter Eight

Dane steered the Jeep through the newly white world, across the Connecticut River and into New Hampshire. He took the curvy back roads after he left the highway. A sign on the shoulder read Moose Crossing, Next 3 Miles.

Liars
. Dane made this fifty-mile trip once a week, and he had yet to spot a moose. He hadn’t seen one since he was a kid, growing up in the Green Mountains. Back when his mother was alive, they used to go camping every summer, pitching a tent in the state park and violating the rules against campfires. His brother, Finn, would whistle as he built the fire, showing Dane how to use pine needles for tinder and demonstrating the importance of sufficient kindling.

Now Finn couldn’t even get out of bed.

Dane tapped his fingers in time to the sounds of The Clash coming from his speakers and stretched back against the headrest. Alone, the Jeep humming along the road, he felt in control again. His body felt loose, with the telltale languor that was the result of intense sexual gratification. He could still feel the damp of Willow’s body on him and a mild chafing where she’d stroked him.

His mind lingered on the feel of her hands on his stiff shoulder, the way she’d massaged him into complete arousal.

Christ. He was horny again.

He turned up the stereo volume and steered his thoughts to the busy days ahead.

* * *

When he pulled into the nursing home parking lot, it was one o’clock.

He stepped out of the Jeep, stretching his frame in the sunlight. The day after a blizzard nearly always featured this kind of perfect cloudless blue sky. Even with his shades on, it was hard to take. Nowhere on earth was Dane more aware of his own fragile mortality than on this particular property, where inside the building people lay bent and broken in a hundred different ways.

BOOK: Coming in from the Cold
4.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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