Coming Home (16 page)

She sat still. Closing her eyes, she remained completely motionless as she savored the delightful fullness.

Then his body demanded more and he jerked beneath her. She moaned as he grasped her hips and moved her up, then down again, until he was once more tightly encased inside her.

"You haven't forgotten how to ride, have you, Nick?"

She grinned in answer to his challenge, and bent over him, placing her hands hard on his chest.

"You just lie back and see if I've forgotten."

Then she slowly began to move, taking him deep, then lifting herself so he almost slid out of her body. As the frenzy increased, and her pace did, too, she lost a little of her control.

"Let me," he growled.

Wyatt rolled her onto her back, never breaking the connection of their bodies and plunged into her again and again. Her legs wrapped around his waist, demanding that he give her his all. The damp night air didn’t keep the sweat from slickening their bodies as they twisted and thrust and loved.

As if he needed to plow even deeper into her, he lifted one of her legs and pulled it over his shoulder. The angle was incredible and this time when he slammed into her, Nicole actually howled with the pleasure of it. He bent and caught her cries with his mouth, his kiss deep, hungry, frenzy.

“Are you...”

“Oh, God, yes,” she groaned, grinding against him, loving the position that gave her just the right amount of pressure, just where she needed it most.

He didn’t let himself go right away. Not until she was gasping, crying, and finally shaking apart with the power of her climax.

Then—only then—did he follow her with a final, powerful thrust and a whispered endearment.

She slept. Or she lost consciousness. Or she hyperventilated from all the gasps of pleasure. Nicole wasn't quite sure which. But eventually she opened her eyes, looked up at the star filled sky and wondered how late it was. There was no music coming from the Grange building. She heard no voices, no cars. It could have been hours, or mere moments since she and Wyatt had made love.

He was curled against her side, his arm draped around her waist. She liked its heaviness and the feel of his leg twisting between hers. Rubbing her own limb against the coarse hairs on his, she heard his sigh of contentment. Then he whispered something close to her ear. "What did you say?" she asked.

"I said ouch," he muttered.

Not understanding, she watched as he twisted his arm back over his shoulder and plucked at something. Then he held his hand toward her and offered her a small, pink object. "Yours, I believe?"

Finally realizing what he held, she couldn’t prevent a giggle from erupting from her lips. A quick glance at her own hands confirmed it. Seven of her fingernail tips were gone.

"I think there's another one imbedded in my hip," he grumbled.

She laughed out loud and sat up so she could look around for the pointy fake fingernails.

"I take it they weren't real?"

She shook her head and said, "Guess they didn't use enough glue. Or I got a little carried away. Did I scratch you?"

"Oh, yes."

"Poor baby, maybe I'd better inspect you."

He didn't protest as she pushed him onto his stomach and carefully ran her palms over his smooth back. She dipped lower, following the fine lines of his backside and upper thigh, biting her lip with pleasure at the feel of his skin.

Wyatt rolled over and stared up at her, the heat obvious in his eyes as he whispered, "I think you better check out the front, too."

"Did I injure you terribly?"

He nodded slowly.

"Maybe I'd better kiss you to make it better."

"Maybe you should."

Nicole lowered her face to his and whispered, "Tell me where it hurts."

He slowly raised his hand and pointed an index finger toward the base of his neck. She followed his hand and pressed a moist kiss on the spot. Looking up at him, she suppressed a grin as he moved his finger and pointed to a spot on his chest. She silently followed where he led, kissing him again.

"I think I saw this in a movie once," she murmured when he moved his hand to point to his left shoulder.

"Was it R-rated?" he asked in a silky tone.

She shook her head no.

"Then I guess the guy didn't point much lower than here," he said with a sultry smile as he moved his hand.

Nicole laughed out loud and kissed her way down to the X rating.

It was late in the night when they finally dressed and got into the cab of the truck. Nicole ruefully eyed her pretty dress, noting the hopeless wrinkles and stains. There was no way on earth she could get her hair swept back up on her head, with the artful curls falling from it, and she hoped Maria had long since gone to bed. She looked a complete and utter mess. Or like a woman who'd been making love in the back of a pickup truck for hours.

"I hate to leave," she said quietly as Wyatt got in and started the truck.

“Me too.”

Taking a deep breath, she added, “I think there are some things we need to talk about.”

“Yeah. I guess there are,” he said. “But not tonight, okay? Let’s just have tonight the way it was.”

She scooted close to him on the bench seat and he draped an arm across her shoulder as he drove. “Okay. I understand.”

He squeezed her shoulders. “Soon. It's been too many years, and there are some things we need to straighten out. Some things need to be explained."

She nodded, hoping that meant he finally wanted to talk about their son. At least to concede the possibility that Justin was his and take it from there.

What might this night mean for her little boy? Nicole wasn't foolish enough to think that one night's passionate lovemaking might suddenly erase ten years of loneliness and anger. But she was fully aware that deep emotions still connected her to Justin's father. And tonight, if his tenderness, his passion, his complete desire for her were any gauge, she realized the feelings had to be mutual.

"Did you have a nice time at the dance last night?"

Nicole took a big sip of her coffee, wincing as it scalded her tongue, and tried to avoid her father's eye. She wondered if he could tell by the dark circles under her eyes how little sleep she'd had. She'd gotten home after three, but had awakened with the rising sun. Tossing and turning in bed didn't help. All she could think about were the delicious moments of the night before.

"It was a lovely evening," she finally replied.

Her father nodded with satisfaction. Nicole was amazed at how much healthier he looked compared to when she'd first seen him in the hospital. The gaunt look was gone from his face, and his smile was as bright as ever. His hair was perhaps a mite grayer at the temples, but a lot of brown was still visible. He'd shaved his beard, and Nicole ran her palm along his cheek in a gentle caress.

"I'm sorry I ran out on you last night."

He rolled his eyes. "As if I needed another female around to browbeat me into eating more carrots."

"Maria takes good care of you, Dad."

He grinned and shrugged. "She's worse than any nurse at the hospital."

"She loves you," Nicole replied.

Her father blushed. She saw the color rise in his cheeks and he tried to stammer a reply. "No, she doesn't..."

"Yes, Dad. She does. Now what are you going to do about it? You going to keep her on as a live-in housekeeper/secretary/assistant? Or am I finally going to get that stepmother I used to tell you I wanted."

"You stopped when I took you to see the Cinderella cartoon.”

Laughing, Nicole stood from the chair next to the bed and reached behind him to fluff his pillows.

"So, what are you going to do today? The carnival starts, right?" he asked.

"I'm going to stay right here and keep you company."

Her father shook his head. "I'm glad you're here, baby. But get lost, okay? If I've got a stepmother to rope in, I'll need some privacy. Especially since I can't get out of bed."

"That might work to your advantage," Nicole replied saucily.

Her father tossed a pillow at her as she sauntered out of the room. She went downstairs, refilled her coffee cup and stepped outside to drink it on the porch. The phone rang before she took even one sip. The front door opened and Maria said, "Nicole, you have a phone call. It's Wyatt."

"Thank you, Maria," Nicole said as walked back inside. She wondered if the woman could see her blush. "Good morning," she said softly as she picked up the phone.

"Still like spinny rides? The carnival starts today. And I seem to recall that you are especially fond of Ferris Wheels. And candy apples."

She didn’t hesitate. "Sounds great."

An hour later, Wyatt pulled up outside her father’s house and watched Nicole walk down the outside steps.

"No candy apples," she said as she got in the truck. "But I would adore some funnel cake."

He studied her, taking in her shining eyes, and her brightly-colored shirt and skirt. She'd pulled her hair up into a ponytail and he gave it a gentle yank as he pulled her close to press a quick kiss on her mouth. "Funnel cakes and Ferris Wheels it is."

Wyatt had wondered if she'd be shy around him this morning. But she wasn't. She laughed, teased and flirted with him all the way to the fairgrounds. As they parked, Wyatt grabbed Nicole's hand and carefully inspected her short fingernails. "Okay. They're not loaded today."

"Jerk," she said as she jumped out of the truck.

They went on the Ferris Wheel six times. After the third ride Wyatt realized he wasn't a teenager anymore, and after the fifth, he wondered if he was really only thirty. "No more. I give up," he said as they walked down the midway.

“Wimp,” she teased. Wyatt looked down into her brightly smiling face and felt a rush of pure, innocent pleasure. He'd forgotten. He simply hadn't remembered what it was like to be with someone whose company he so enjoyed that he just had to smile or bust. Nicole reminded him.

Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet, slid his arm around her waist and walked through the fairgrounds. They were stopped every four or five steps by friends of his, or friends of hers who exclaimed over how wonderful it was to have her back in town. Nicole seemed to enjoy every moment of it. Her laughter and smiles were infectious.

After he won her a rather ugly hula-dancing doll, Nicole looked up at him, her eyes shining with warmth. She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a knee melting kiss. Nearby, someone whistled. Someone else gave a catcall.

He didn't care. All he cared about was that Nicole was in his arms, kissing him like she was declaring he was hers.

It had taken eleven years, but she’d finally come clean to the whole town about how she felt.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said once they’d ended the kiss.

“Great idea. I’m so hot, I could use a cool dip in the pool.”

“Perfect.”

They headed for the parking lot, and once inside the truck, Wyatt immediately turned toward home. Simone was working at a booth at the carnival. Brady had been away every weekend for weeks, obviously spending time with the redhead they'd met the night before. None of the ranch hands would be up at the main house, and he and Nicole would have complete privacy.

"I didn't bring a bathing suit," she protested.

"I'll lend you one of mine," he said in all seriousness.

She giggled. "Somehow, I don't think that would cover everything."

"I know," he replied, giving her a wolfish grin.

Assuring her no one else would be around, he was glad to arrive home and be proved right. The house was empty. They didn't see any trucks near the stables, and he assumed all the workers were in town enjoying the carnival.

He led her through the house to the backyard pool.

"You've added a hot tub," she said as they stood outside.

"Yep. You'll have to come back and try it out at night. I also added those wrought iron stairs that lead right up to my bedroom."

Nicole glanced around, then caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Wyatt could read her easily and understood her sudden shyness. It was, after all, the middle of the afternoon. Anyone could come back, though he strongly suspected they wouldn't.

"Come get wet with me," he ordered in a sultry whisper.

He didn't wait for her answer. Lifting his hands to the front of her button-up shirt, he began slipping the buttons open, one by one. The light fabric felt smooth beneath his fingers, though not as smooth as her skin, and he longed to free her of it. He pushed it off her shoulders and stared at her body under the bright rays of the sun.

She didn't protest as he reached one index finger toward the front clasp of her white lacy bra. He flicked it and it immediately came undone, falling away from her silky breasts. Nicole didn't even try to pretend shyness. She shrugged her shoulders, allowing the straps to fall free.