Riding the Pause (11 page)

By the time they finished their entrees, they’d backtracked through most of the get to know each other stuff people did on first dates. It felt strange, after their nights on the Appalachian Trail talking in the dark. It felt like they’d moved past the
where did you go to school
thing to a deeper level of intimacy, but in reality they didn’t know all that much about each other. Most of what he knew came from his relationship with her brother.

“So what about you?” she asked, stirring a teaspoon full of sugar into her coffee, one of the few things the restaurant sourced outside of a hundred miles. “Did you always know you wanted to make furniture?”

“I’ve always loved wood and trees, but no, I actually started out as a firefighter. I trained as a smoke jumper out of college and spent a couple of years out west.”

Her eyes went wide, and he could almost see the questions circling in her head. She was smart and so perceptive and interested in everything. For as beautiful as she was, it was her quick mind that really attracted him.

“Like jump out of airplanes into fires? That kind of firefighter?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he said smiling. “Other times it was driving to the site of the fire and cutting in lines to keep it from spreading.” He knew her next question before she asked it, but he wasn’t sure how to answer it.

“That has to be such an adrenaline rush. Why did you stop?”

She’d see through anything other than the truth, and he found he didn’t want to hide from her. She’d find out eventually anyway and he wanted her to know. She had to if they were going to take this thing between them any further, and he wanted to do that. He’d wanted to see what it felt like to have quick, brilliant, wound tight as a drum Rachel Southerland find her release in his arms.

“It was a lousy job for a family man – dangerous with low pay. I’d gotten married and thought I was ready to have kids.

Of all the things she’d expected him to say, the fact he’d been married and planned to start a family was not on her list. There was no reason for him not to have been married before. But seeing his shop and the way he lived, he seemed so isolated. It was hard to picture him sharing his space with another person, and there was the way he’d almost run from Jude and Autumn’s baby. He certainly hadn’t acted like a man who was interested in starting a family.

She probably should hold back and let him tell her what he wanted to, but he’d opened the door by telling her he’d been married. He had to know she’d ask questions, and she’d never been good at holding back.

“No offense,” she said, charging ahead. “But what happened? You seemed scared to go near Marion, not like a man who wants kids.”

“Wanted not wants,” he said. “That’s a door I’m not planning to reopen. As for what happened, I guess we were just too different. We wanted different things. I wanted the rugged beauty and isolation of Wyoming, and she wanted the sophistication and bustle of the city. She said she wanted to try things my way, but she couldn’t and she ended up hating me because of it.”

By the time he was done talking, he was looking anywhere but at her, and she could tell he was having a hard time meeting her eyes. With what he’d just told her, they ought to shake hands and walk away from each other. Their story felt too similar to the one he’d already lived, but thinking about walking away from him started an ache in her chest. She might not know what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, but she knew without a doubt that walking away from Ian wasn’t part of it.

“I suppose that explains the baby thing,” she said, taking a swallow of coffee to mask the emotions swirling around in her head.

She didn’t want to walk away, and she didn’t think he did either. They didn’t have enough history between them to discuss it. Baby and marriage talk this early was crazy. And neither of them had said they were interested in anything serious. That meant the only choice that made any sense was to move past kids and ex-wives and simply have fun with each other for as long as it worked for both of them. Rachel tried hard to see it as an adult approach and to ignore the ache in her heart.

“I’m going to have the strawberry rhubarb crisp for dessert. What are you having? And don’t say nothing because I don’t want to share,” she said, managing a grin.

Stepping outside into the cool night air, Ian felt Rachel shiver beside him. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her body to him, loving the way they fit together. Her arm slid under his jacket and around his waist, her fingers splaying against his side as he tucked her tight to him. In a moment they’d reach his truck, and they’d have to make a decision. The only thing he was absolutely certain of was that he wasn’t ready for their night to be over.

Before he opened the passenger side door for her, he turned her in his arms, caging her body against the truck with his. Bending, he took her lips in a kiss, catching her answering sigh with his mouth. She arched up to meet him, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. With his teeth and tongue he teased her parted lips, tasting her as he breathed her in.

Without a thought for anything other than getting closer to Rachel, he pushed his hips forward pressing his long hard length against the cradle of her hips. She gasped and he swallowed it, taking the kiss deeper. He had to find a way to stop, to let her go, before he tried to take her against the side of his truck. Only the thought that she deserved so much better was strong enough to make him break the kiss and pull away to gaze down into her eyes, shining dark in the dim light of the parking lot. She looked up at him, blinking like she was trying to clear her head.

“Take me home,” she said breathless, the sweet swell of her breasts pressing against his chest.

“Home?” he asked, his entire focus hinging on her answer.

“Yours, take me to your place.”

He kept her hand in his, stroking the sensitive skin of her wrist and tracing circles in the center of her palm with his thumb while they drove through the dark to his cabin. Neither of them spoke and by the time they pulled down the gravel drive, he worried some of the heat burning between them had morphed into awkwardness.

He didn’t have to worry. When he parked the truck and turned off the ignition, Rachel turned to him, her gaze so open and honest. Looking into her eyes, he realized that whatever else they ended up being to each other, they would always be honest. Rachel wouldn’t hide or pretend, to herself or him, to be something she wasn’t. They were two adults who trusted and respected each other and if his feelings had started to run deeper that was a different issue. One he could look at later. For now this was enough. This time here alone together.

“Wait,” he said, hurrying around the front of the truck to meet her at her door.

He reached up to help her down, his hands sliding over the soft knit fabric of her dress as

he guided her to stand in front of him. She twined her fingers with his and pulled his arm around her waist, fitting herself to the side of his body. Together they climbed the steps to the porch, barely managing to avoid Artemis as she wound her way between their legs with no regard for her own life. Ian opened the door and Apollo bolted out, flopping down on his back and showing Rachel his belly when he saw her.

              “Not tonight, big guy,” said Ian, looking down at his love struck dog hamming it up for her attention. “Tonight she’s mine.”

              “I like the sound of that,” she said, turning in his arms and going up on her toes to kiss him.

              “Inside, princess,” he said with his lips pressed against hers as he guided her to the front door.

              “Whatever you say, mountain man.”

              He couldn’t hold back the laugh. “I find that very hard to believe, but I’m so ready to find out.”

              He opened the door and ushered her inside with a swat to her perfect round ass.

              Rachel let out a squeal at the sting of Ian’s hand on her butt, stopping short as she stepped inside his cabin. Even in the dim light filtering through the windows from the outside floods she could see it was perfect for him. The single large room was open two stories with what looked like a loft above. A stone backdrop dominated one wall with a fat wood burning stove in front of it, the black stove pipe running to the roof.

An overstuffed dark leather sofa sat opposite the stove on top of a deep red Kilim rug and the coffee and side tables were obviously some of his work. It was strong, warm and masculine and so like Ian.

              He flipped on the light and came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she let her head drop back against his chest, pausing for a moment to enjoy the feeling of his body curved around hers.

              “I love it,” she said, tipping her head up to look at him. “It suits you.”

              “I’ll give you the tour later.” He bent to nuzzle the tender skin along her jaw line, and she leaned into his touch, offering him her neck.

Kissing and nipping his way down her throat, he sent heat flooding her core. In his space, surrounded by his scent and his touch, she wanted to let go. To give herself over into his strong capable artist’s hands and melt into the pleasure of his body taking hers. His teeth gently scraped the pulse point at the base of her neck and the breath caught in her throat.

Straightening, he slid his hands up to her head and into her hair, gently working loose the pins holding her twist in place. Massaging her scalp with the rough work worn pads of his fingertips, he pulled the last pin free so her hair could tumble in soft golden waves down her back.

“Because you keep it so tightly constrained,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “I think it’s even more beautiful when you let it down. Like a gorgeous secret not everyone gets to see. I want to see all of you, Rachel. Feel all of you. Taste all of you. And then I want you to unravel in my arms, tumbling down like your hair being freed from its pins.”

His words thrilled her and the deep rumble of his voice touched somewhere deep inside her. She was always in control. She’d had men complain about it, but she’d never been with anyone who gave her what she really wanted – a chance to surrender to someone strong enough to catch her and hold her. Someone who could give her pleasure and keep her safe while she let go. She knew without a doubt Ian was strong enough to be that man. That he recognized it and saw her and what she needed was almost too much. Almost. She’d taken her pleasure before with other men, but she’d never been given it.

“Arms up, princess,” he said, reaching for the hem of her dress.

“I’m not a princess,” she said, but she raised her arms for him.

“You are to me.” He peeled the dress over her head leaving her standing in her black lace panties and bra still wearing her knee high boots.

Using the back of his hand, he traced the bumps of her spine, and she struggled not to cover herself or squirm.

“Stay still for me,” he said, taking a step away from her.

She fought to hold in the groan that almost escaped when he took his warmth away.

“My God, Rachel. You’re so beautiful.” His voice was low. Reverent. And the naked appreciation in his tone made her feel beautiful.

Starting at the base of her skull, she felt his fingertips glide down the back of her neck to her shoulders over the straps of her bra to her arms. When he gripped her arms, she sucked in a breath at the strength of his touch. Sliding his hands down her arms to the backs of her hands, he left a trail of delicious tremors in the wake of his calloused fingertips.

Slowly, deliberately he linked his fingers with hers and together raised their arms over her head, guiding her hands to rest on the back of his neck. The position arched her back and she could feel by the press of her lace covered butt into his groin how much he wanted her, too. With teasing light caresses that made her squirm against him, he stroked the outside of her arms, letting the backs of his hands come to rest at the sides of her breasts.

She ached for him to cup her breasts but he skimmed along the sides instead, stoking her desire and starting a trembling that made her knees weak. Every pass he made from the gentle swell of her hips to her breasts made her want him more. When he finally slid his hands up the front of her body to cup her aching flesh, she was desperate for him, pressing herself into his hands. He pulled back just enough for his hands to circle her ribcage, and she felt him feel along her back for the clasp.

“Front,” she said her voice, sounding needy and breathless. “It’s in the front.”

“I love that,” he said, reaching between her breasts for the catch. “Keep your arms up,” he warned when she tried to help him.

And then the clasp snapped open, her breasts spilling into his palms and she couldn’t do anything but focus on his strong hands holding her aching flesh. He rolled her nipples between his rough fingertips and she felt them tighten under his touch. Pinching and teasing he played her like she was an instrument he was learning to master. Her breath came in shallow gasps and her back bowed, pressing her breasts into his hands like an offering.

When she felt certain her knees would buckle at the pleasure of his touch, he untangled her hands from around his neck, lowering them to her side. Pushing the straps off her shoulders, he slid the bra from her body, leaving her naked but for her panties and boots. He hadn’t even slipped off his jacket and the contrast between them made her feel vulnerable and exposed, emphasizing his strength and her softness. She couldn’t remember ever wanting a man more.

Rachel was so beautiful and so responsive, her compliance at odds with her normally wound tight self. The fact that she was willing to surrender control to him made it that much harder for him to take his time, but he would. He intended to explore every inch of her body, to tease her and taste her until she came apart in his arms.

Not until she was spent, soft and pliant with pleasure would he drive them both over the edge together. He’d never wanted a woman more than he wanted Rachel, and it had never been so important to him to please her. He wanted to give her everything, wring every bit of pleasure from her body before he took his own.

Circling her body, he watched her as she battled with the urge to cover herself. Keeping his gaze on her face, he slid out of his jacket before unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. She licked her lips, and it took every bit of his restraint to keep from dragging her plump bottom lip between his teeth. He dropped to his knees in front of her, pausing for a moment with his hands on her hips to rest his forehead against the soft mound of her belly. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair and then she was cupping his head and pulling him to her in a movement that was at the same time both tender and demanding.

Not willing to let her lead, at least not yet, he grabbed her calf, lifting her leg so he could tug down the zipper on her boot. Carefully he slid the boot from her foot, setting it to the side before repeating the process with her other leg. When she stood before him in nothing but her panties, he gripped her hips and pulled her to him so he could press his lips against her lace covered mound. He loved the way her body trembled at his touch, that even if she tried, she couldn’t stay still. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, he tugged her panties down her legs, steadying her as she stepped out of them.