Mocha Latte (Silk Stocking Inn #3) (5 page)

Chapter 11

Not wanting to be completely reckless in a world where reality could easily come back to bite you in the butt, Jackson and I had the obligatory conversation about protection. I was on the pill, and after discovering that my fiancé had been with someone else, I’d hastened myself to the doctor for a quick blood test. Jackson had recently donated blood. So we had those questions out of the way. He’d returned to his room to shower, something he’d been on his way to do before rescuing me from the hallway.

I sat amongst the sea of pillows on the bed and flipped through a magazine that had been left on the nightstand, a periodical completely devoted to raising chickens. I was nearly a chick rearing expert by the time Jackson knocked on the door.

The sound of it made me tremble with nerves. I’d never done anything remotely close to this, and I wished that in the interim, rather than increase my knowledge about chickens, I’d gone downstairs for a glass of wine. Maybe two.

“Come in.” I sounded like a frightened child.

Coco’s face poked inside, and I covered myself with the magazine. As if she’d read my mind, she walked in with a tray carrying a carafe half filled with red wine and a glass.

“Coco, it’s as if I have my own personal fairy godmother this weekend. I was just thinking about a glass of wine. It will—it will help me sleep. Sometimes I have a hard time getting a good night’s rest in a strange place.” I’d lost the frightened child tone, and now I was talking overly loud and fast, like anyone with a guilty conscience might speak.

She lowered the tray onto my nightstand. A few of the phantom age lines appeared and then smoothed away. “Then I’m glad to grant you this wish.” She winked as if there was far more to the quip than she was letting on. Magical or not, she always seemed to know what I was thinking.

Coco looked pointedly at the magazine covering my nearly naked body. “I’ll let you get back to the chickens then.” She walked toward the door. “The section on chicken feed is very informative.” She closed the door behind her.

I kept my fingers crossed that she would not run into Jackson coming across the hallway.

***

Turned out there was no worry of Coco running into Jackson. I’d gotten through chicken feeding and even memorized the characteristics of certain breeds. There was still no sign of Jackson. The half bottle of wine was down to its last drops, and my excitement was too. Apparently, sleep had been far more alluring to Jackson than me in my skimpy baby doll.  There was no way not to feel completely disappointed and embarrassed.

I turned off the lamp, dropped the magazine on the nightstand and finished the drops of wine. Feeling sufficiently buzzed and humiliated, I burrowed down under the quilt and closed my eyes.

I hadn’t drifted into sleep as much as I’d floated into a wine filled cloud. My head was spinning, and some of the harsh edges of being stood up were dulling. In the midst of the warm cocoon of downy feathers and darkness, I felt fresh air brush over my forehead, the only part of me still above blankets.

“You still in there, Spunky?” The deep voice zapped me from my wine haze. His big fingers pushed the top of the quilt down so my eyes were visible. His hair had been washed and brushed back, and he’d put on a blue shirt and jeans. He cleaned up spectacularly.

“Thought you got swallowed up by this big ole bed.” Without another word or response from me, and in one swift movement, he had me peeled from my quilted cave and in his arms.

He kissed me lightly on the mouth and then licked his bottom lip. “Hmm, wine. I like it. How much did you have?”

I lifted my hand with about an inch of space between my thumb and forefinger.

“With the way you’re struggling to keep those beautiful eyes open, I thought it had been more.”

“Well, that’s how much I poured into the glass each time.”

“
Each
time?”

“Well, not each time. The last bit was so small, I decided to just chug it from the bottle. Not one of my classier moments, but I didn’t want to waste any.” I looked at him with as much direct focus as I could muster. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“No chance of that, baby.” He tossed me up a couple of inches to get a better grasp of me and headed to the door.

“Where are you taking me in my state of undress?” Suddenly, the notion of my scanty attire shocked me closer to sobriety. I wriggled in his arms. “You’re not carrying me out of the room like this, are you?”

“Uh, as I recall the last time I saw you, you were standing in
this
in the hallway with a cookie dangling from those amazing lips.”

“That was accidental exposure and you know it.”

He sighed and lowered my feet to the ground. “Guess it will be too cold anyhow. Just a minute.” He lifted a finger at me. “Don’t move.” He left the room, and I wondered if my bout of self-consciousness had spoiled the fun. He returned seconds later with a denim jacket. With a gentleman’s touch, he put the coat on me. I was swimming in it, and my hands disappeared at the ends of the sleeves. The bottom came mid-thigh. It was faded and soft and lined with flannel, flannel that had the distinct fragrance of the man himself. It was a leathery, grassy cowboy smell that made me feel homesick and, at the same time, giddy with the thought of being with Jackson.

“We’re going outside?” I asked as I pulled the coat tighter around me. “Should I get my shoes?”

“You won’t need them.” He swept me back into his arms.

“I could get used to being transported around like this.” I curled against him and he carried me out of the room and down the stairs as if I weighed no more than a pillow.

We crossed the foyer to the front door. He managed to keep a secure hold on me as he moved his hand to turn the knob. The front door swung open. He stepped out onto the porch and pushed the door shut with his foot. I lifted my head, heavy with the wine and the man, and squinted out to the front driveway.

“A horse and carriage?” An old-fashioned horse drawn carriage, the open seat kind with a driver’s bench up front and cushioned back seat for passengers, was parked behind the draft horse I’d seen in the barn.

“That’s what took me so long to come back for you. Riley, that Belgian cross you see in front of it, wasn’t completely cooperative when I went to harness him. It has been a while since he pulled a carriage.”

“I forgive you for the delay then.” I smiled up at him. “Even if I’m not exactly dressed for a carriage ride, thank you for this.”

Stars flooded the navy blue sky above, and the summer night air was just warm enough to keep my bare feet from getting cold. Jackson carried me down the steps to the waiting carriage. For a moment I allowed myself to imagine that I was back in time being carried off by my dream prince.

Jackson lifted me up onto the driver’s bench and then circled around the horse and climbed up next to me. He glanced in my direction as he picked up the reins. “You might want to hang on to my arm. You’re looking a little unsteady from all that wine, Spunky.”

My hands were still lost in the sleeves of his coat, but I managed to wrap one around his arm. He clucked his tongue and flicked the reins, and the stout horse snorted in protest before picking up his heavy feet and plodding forward.

We rolled across the front yard to the back of the inn and to the long trail where we’d ridden the horses earlier. Once moving, I couldn’t hold back a giggle of excitement. The summer breeze carried every scent of nature and animal with it. It even seemed that some of the delicious aromas from Coco’s kitchen and bakery clung to the night air too.

“I haven’t been on a carriage ride since my grandfather’s neighbor, Gracie, took us out on her annual Christmas sleigh ride.” I squeezed his arm tighter to keep from bouncing off the bench and to remind myself what great arms the man had. And that reminder revived some of the earlier sensations I’d been feeling. The heavy coat had almost made me forget that I was basically naked under the denim and flannel.

I still had enough of a wine buzz to reach down and brazenly slide the hem of the coat up to expose most of my thighs. The coat stopped just short of displaying my lacy thong panties to the world and to the gaze of my hunky carriage driver.

Jackson’s green eyes shifted down and a grin crossed his face. “Don’t tease. Push it all the way back, so I can see that lacy, little triangle and the sweet treat beneath it.”

I glanced around at the surrounding landscape. Jackson laughed loud enough to spur Riley into a trot.

“Are you expecting to see a dozen pairs of glowing eyes watching as you push that coat up? I assure you, we are completely alone out here, just man, woman and grumpy draft horse.” He leaned his head toward mine. “Mine for the weekend, remember?”

I blushed at his words, thinking how badly I wanted to give myself over to him. If I could just get rid of those pesky inhibitions. If I didn’t give in to this crazy desire now, I might lose Jackson and my only chance at a fantasy weekend for good.

Here I was in a carriage, under a starlit sky, with an incredible man, and I was over-thinking everything about it. Maybe that had been my problem all along.

I pulled my arm from his and balanced myself as well as I could with the side to side motion of the carriage. I took hold of the sides of the coat and slowly parted them, exposing myself completely to the fresh night air and Jackson’s heated gaze.

“That works,” he said with a slight hitch in his throat. “We’re almost at our destination, and it can’t come soon enough.”

It was a little cool, being mostly naked on the top of a driver’s bench, rolling through the lush landscape. But heat surged through my belly and down to my pussy as I considered what my driver might have in mind. My mind drifted into a fictional world, as it often did with my career in television. I was in the middle of a sexy, gritty western riding through the Wild West with a very handsome coachman.

Jackson must have caught my faraway look. “What’s the phrase? Penny for your thoughts? Although if they don’t include me, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Oh, they include you, my mysterious Wild West coachman who just picked me up in the middle of a deserted country road.”

“In your unmentionables, no less,” he added to my narrative.

“Yes, that’s because I ran out of the house so fast to get away from my terrible husband, a man with a sour temper and a belly as big as a watermelon.”

“And I, the Wild West coachman, am still a little drunk and horny from a night in the saloon where I lost my week’s pay at the poker table. And now I’m without enough coin to even bed a whore for the night.”

I looked up at him with a brow lift. “Jeez, men and their idea of romance.” I sighed. “You’re a hard-edged drifter who just never found the right woman to give his heart to. Until, well, you get the idea . . .”

“Strangely enough, your scenario is pretty damn close to the truth.” There was a touch of loneliness in his tone that pressed on my chest like a firm hand. “Not that parts of my unromantic version weren’t wedged in reality too. I’ve left more than one poker game drunk, horny and broke.”

“Either way, I’m impressed with your story telling skills,” I said. “Nice imagination.”

“Oh, I’ve got all kinds of imagination up in this head of mine. Especially when it comes to the distraught little lady sitting on the bench next to me in her pretty little unmentionables.”

“See, and that brings me to the rest of the story. I’m in a complete state of despair. Nate, my wretched husband, has been an asshole once too often, and I find myself alone and unclothed and much in need of the right man’s considerate and loving attention. And that’s where you come in with your green eyes and Hollywood smile and, conveniently enough, carriage with a rather plush backseat.”

He handled the reins so well, I didn’t notice that he’d directed Riley to turn off the trail.

“Where are we going?”

He flicked the reins to spur Riley on. “We’re going to act out an extremely satisfying end to that story.”

Chapter 12

Jackson steered the horse and carriage toward a patch of land that was situated between a green hillside and a meandering river. He stopped on a parcel of grass that was walled off by trees and the hill, with the night sky as our ceiling.

It didn’t take much to bring Riley to a halt. Jackson tied off the reins and climbed down from the bench. He walked over to my side of the carriage. I turned toward him as he reached up and took hold of my waist. He kept me in his arms as he walked to the backseat of the carriage.

Gently, he lowered me onto the seat. The smooth leather felt cold against the bare skin of my legs as I scooted over to make room for my western romance lead. He climbed up onto the seat. The carriage shifted slightly as he sat his long frame down. Riley took a steadying step, but, thankfully, didn’t move farther than that.

I pulled the coat closed, suddenly feeling more than vulnerable in the wide open. “A new ending just flashed through my head, a catastrophic one where we’re back here in the heat of passion, and a deranged squirrel darts out from the trees, runs across Riley’s back and sends the horse galloping through the trees with us bouncing behind.”

“I’d be worried about that too if I didn’t know Riley well, but I do. And that horse would rather stand still on hot coals than move his feet. Deranged squirrel or not, he’s solid where he stands.” Jackson scooted to the side and leaned against the corner of the seat, with one long leg curled up on the seat and the other stretched out in front. Without thinking, my gaze went right to his crotch. He grinned as he caught where my eyes had landed. I quickly blamed it on the wine . . . and curiosity. In fact, if I was being totally honest with myself it was about ninety percent curiosity. I wondered if
it
was as extraordinary as the rest of the man.

I’d just ridden across a field with my sexy lingerie and half-clad body exposed to the world, but suddenly, a bout of shyness overcame me. I pulled the coat panels shut tightly.

Jackson rested his arm casually up on the back edge of the carriage. “The way I see it, you can lose that coat now, while it’s still dark outside, or we can sit here until daylight. But I’ve got to warn you, my patience ain’t great when I see something I really want. And you, my half naked angel, are something I want bad.” He rested back to let me know, in no uncertain terms, that he was waiting.

I licked the tip of my finger and put it in the air as if to check the wind direction. “It’s a little cold suddenly. Must be a breeze coming down off that hillside.”

“I’ll keep you plenty warm.” His arm was still draped casually along the back of the carriage as if he had no intention of heading back up to the driver’s bench any time soon.

“All right.” I sat up with a long, slow breath. I pushed the coat off my shoulders, and it slid down my arms. I pulled my hands free from the oversized sleeves.

Before I could curl my arms around myself, Jackson sat forward and took hold of my hands. He lifted them to direct me to kneel up on the seat. It took some effort with him holding my hands, but I managed to balance myself up on the leather seat cushion. A shiver went through me, a result of the cool night air and the heated green gaze that was now surveying every inch of me.

“Well?” I asked, sounding slightly shaky. “Do I fit the part?”

He released my hands and scooted closer. I rested my hand on the back edge of the seat and wrapped my other arm around him as he reached up and parted the panels of my nightie. His mouth dragged hot kisses along my stomach. While one hand wrapped firmly around my bottom, the other teased my nipples.

I found it hard to balance. The delirium produced by the wine had dissipated and been replaced by an entirely new state of intoxication. Jackson’s mouth left a trail of blazing heat along my skin as he made a slow, erotic path to the small triangle of silk covering my pussy. It took no more than a long lick of his tongue to push the fabric aside, leaving no barrier between the wet, slick folds of my pussy and his mouth.

“Lean back, baby, I need to taste more of you,” he drawled.

I held him for support, every muscle in my body trembling with anticipation as I sat back down on the seat.

“Relax. Mine for the weekend, remember?” His eyes were like green gemstones, richer in color from desire, a desire for me. That thought made every inch of my skin erupt with gooseflesh. I couldn’t remember ever wanting someone this badly.

The unusual location and striking fact that we were in the back of a horse drawn carriage, no longer mattered. I wanted Jackson to finish what he’d started. I needed his mouth, his cock. I needed all of him, or I would fall apart from wanting him.

I rested back against the side of the seat. Jackson lifted my feet up onto the smooth leather cushion. “Reach back, baby. Reach back and take hold of the seat.”

He’d switched to calling me baby. Nate had done it more than once, and I’d chided him for it. It had made me bristle. But coming from Jackson, in the heat of passion, it sounded like the best form of dirty talk I’d ever heard. Right then and there, in the open carriage, I wanted to be his, to be his baby to do with as he pleased.

As I lifted my arms, the silky shift inched up, exposing me from the belly button down. The only thing between my pussy and his hungry stare was a tiny triangle of silk. I let my arms rest on the back of the seat above my head, but as he pushed open my thighs wide enough to expose me completely, I clutched the edge of the seat to hold myself together.

He watched my face, his long black lashes fluttering over his green eyes as he pulled the silk thong aside. He slid his finger through the creamy wetness that was pooling between the folds of my pussy.

I pulled in a shuddering breath and tightened my hold on the top edge of the seat.

He dropped down to his stomach and brought his head between my thighs. His warm breath tickled my pussy and inner thighs. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned as he moved his mouth so close to my pussy, I could feel the lightest scrape of his beard stubble.

I nearly startled off the seat as he used his fingers to spread me open wider. A low, deep chuckle rumbled between my thighs. “Relax, baby. It’ll be that much more fun.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt near to naked and completely exposed. But Jackson made me comfortable. I wanted him there between my thighs. I needed him there. His tongue started slowly, with a teasing flick across my clit, a small intimate touch that made me tighten my grip even more.

His big hand cupped beneath my ass as he lifted me to his hungry mouth. His tongue coaxed me to arch my back so that my pussy would be tighter against his mouth. He growled in approval against my tender flesh. One hand held me securely in place as the other teased my throbbing clit to a frenzy. And all the while, his tongue made love to my pussy as if I was producing a sweet nectar for him to taste.

I scooted my feet closer to my bottom, wanting to move even higher and harder against his mouth. Every inch of me trembled with desire. I needed to finish this, to come in a glorious, mind blowing orgasm or the disappointment would be devastating.

I released my hold on the seat and curled my fingers in his thick dark hair, holding him against me. “Yes, Jackson, please.” My tender plea floated up and disappeared in the field of stars above.

One final stroke of his finger over my clit and my thighs clamped shut as my pussy convulsed in hot waves around his tongue. I rocked against him, nearly close to tears with the sheer intensity of it all.

Jackson rose up over me. He reached down with one hand and had his pants open and pushed down to reveal his cock, a massive erection that took away the breath I’d been trying to catch.

Jackson gazed down at me with an expression that was half questioning and half lust.

“Yes.” I knew what he wanted to hear. “Yes, Jackson. I want this.”

He took hold of my legs and scooted me down farther on the seat. He leaned down over me. The heat radiating from his body warmed me in the cool night air. He lowered his mouth to mine and with the same hand that had held me steady against his mouth, he lifted my pussy to meet him. His self-control now shattered, he pushed into me hard and fast, producing that sweet pussy ache that came after an orgasm.

I’d never climaxed twice in a row, but something about this man made me think it wasn’t impossible.

And it seemed he expected it. He rose up on his strong arms and thrust into me, lifting his hips each time so that his cock penetrated the deepest, most untouched place inside of me. With each movement, the friction against my still aching clit sent tingling sensations through me.

“Hold me tight with your pussy, baby,” he said in a low, raspy voice. “I want to feel you holding my cock as I slide into you.”

I concentrated on the muscles between my legs and my pussy as I contracted them, squeezing them around his erection as he dove deep inside of me, seemingly knowing my most intimate places even more than me.

His long lashes drifted shut. “That’s it, Becca. I can feel you as if you’re stroking me with your tight pussy. So fucking beautiful.”

I reached for the edge of the seat, something to hold onto, something to keep me from floating right up into the night sky. I held him securely between my legs, feeling each hot inch of him as he rocked against me, filling me completely.

Then that tiny trickle of sensation, those first few seconds of reaching the front edge of climax caused me to grip him even harder with my pussy.

He sensed what was happening and kept the rhythm. “That’s it, baby. Come for me and take me with you.”

My soft cry circled the carriage, and I hardly knew it had come from my own lips. My body shuddered beneath him. As I came in shattering waves, he increased the speed and intensity of his movements. Each time, it nearly started the orgasm afresh, nearly bringing me over the edge into a seemingly endless climax.

The muscles in his arms tightened, and he rammed his cock deep inside of me one last time. “Fuck yeah,” he growled as he came.

He stayed there, buried deep inside of me for a few minutes, while our breathing and heart rates returned to normal. The light wind ruffled his thick hair, making him look nothing short of glorious, as he gazed down at me.

The night sky was navy blue with white diamonds and nature’s nighttime music vibrated around us. It was almost impossible to believe that this was happening.

“I’ve never done anything quite like this before,” I said quietly.

“Well, Spunky, that’s cuz you were waiting for me.” He lowered himself down and kissed me.