Authors: Susan Mallery
He started to turn away. Without giving herself time to think, Anne reached out and grabbed him. The only thing she could reach was his belt buckle. She pulled him hard against her. He moved forward reluctantly. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but he wouldn’t want to hear her words. There was nothing she could say, so when he was close enough, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips to his chest.
He tasted all male with a combination of sweat and the unique flavor of his skin. What started out to be comfort rapidly became something else. She kissed him gently at first, moving her mouth across his chest with hard, hot kisses, then she began to lick him. She found his nipples and caressed them until his breathing became as rapid as her own.
His hands reached for her breasts. He touched her sensitive skin, kneading and rubbing until she quivered again with need. She’d had a half-formed notion that this was for him, to help take away his pain, but the second he reached under her skirt and touched her moist center, all thoughts of altruism fled, washed away by a flood of passion.
He jerked off her panties and pulled her skirt up around her waist. She undid his belt buckle and reached for the buttons on the fly of his jeans. To torment them both, she worked slowly, savoring the feel of his hardness against the back of her hand. Her knuckles brushed him with each button and his erection flexed at her touch.
At last he was free. She stroked his smooth length. He felt hotter here. Hard and ready. He quickly pushed down his jeans and briefs and moved between her thighs.
The velvet tip of him rubbed against her center, causing her muscles to clench rhythmically. When she was panting and desperately close to her release, he entered her.
She hadn’t had a lover in several years and she was tight inside. He pushed forward slowly, stretching unused spaces, forcing dormant feelings to flare with sensation. She braced herself on her elbows and watched him move in and out of her body. She glanced at his face. He was looking at her. Their eyes locked.
They didn’t speak, they didn’t have to. Communication flowed between them as if they’d spent their whole lives waiting for this moment. Her hips flexed in time with his thrusts. She was closer, so much closer, but not close enough. She wanted more. He reached between them. With his thumb he gently stroked her. Up and down, double time to the movement of her hips. She felt him tightening, getting ready to explode and it was enough to send her to the edge.
He breathed her name and made her fall. Her muscles convulsed in release. It went on and on, forever it seemed. She felt his final thrust, heard the guttural cry, then he was still. He pulled her up against him, cradling her in his arms. She listened to the thundering of a heartbeat and wondered if it was his or hers. Perhaps now they only had one heart between them.
Reality gradually intruded and she could hear the night creatures around them, feel the hard rock jabbing her bare behind. She kissed Jake’s chest and tasted him, but now her tongue was coated with the bitterness of regret. She sighed.
“That sounded pretty serious,” he said, placing one finger under her chin and forcing her to look at him.
She flushed and was glad the darkness hid it from view. “You’re Laurel’s father.”
“I know.”
“This was all a mistake. I don’t even know you. And you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” He dropped his hand to his side. “I don’t trust you.”
“We just made love and you don’t trust me?”
He stepped away. She pulled her skirt down and reached behind her for her bra.
“How did this happen?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” He didn’t sound any happier than she did. “It was just hormones or circumstance.” He pulled up his jeans and started fastening them. “We’ve both been without for a long time.”
She slipped off the rock and grabbed her shirt. “So it was like taking a drink of water because you’re thirsty?”
“Yeah.”
The warm lover who had touched her was gone. Even his voice was different. Jake Masters was back. The man who, despite what he said, really didn’t like her. And she’d just made love to him. In the desert. About fifty yards from Becky Sue’s mobile home. On a rock. She wanted to die.
“I can’t believe we did this,” she said frantically. She tried to button her blouse, but her fingers weren’t working. “We’ve never even been out on a date. I’ve known you less than two weeks.”
“This isn’t any easier for me,” he growled. “Dammit, woman, I was married for fourteen years and I was never once unfaithful to Ellen.”
“Golly, maybe you deserve an award for that,” she snapped. “Blame it all on me, why don’t you? That seems to be your favorite method for dealing with your problems anyway. Everything with Laurel is my fault, so make this my fault, too.”
She was close to crying, so she clamped her mouth shut. By concentrating very hard, she managed to do up her shirt and stuff it into her skirt. She was about to walk away when he touched her arm.
“What?” she snapped.
Silently he held out his hand. He had her panties. The white cotton contrasted with his tanned skin. She covered her face with her hands.
“I just want to die,” she whispered.
He pulled her close. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, his voice low and comforting. “We both reacted. I’ve never done anything like this, either. I’m not blaming you. It’s no one’s fault, Anne. Maybe it was for the best. We were both wondering about it. Now we know. It’ll make the next two months easier for both of us. All we have to do is to pretend it never happened.”
She stepped back and took her underpants. While he turned his back, she slipped them on. He was right. They had both wondered how it would be, and now they knew. But he was wrong, too. This wasn’t going to make it easier. She knew that as surely as she knew he’d called her Anne again, instead of Annie.
* * *
T
hey left Paradise early the next morning. Becky Sue got up before dawn and baked cinnamon rolls. After she’d filled them with coffee and the gooey confections, she gave them fifteen minutes of advice about the local highway.
Jake hovered in the background as Anne hugged her cousin goodbye. Laurel exchanged last frantic whispers with Becky Sue’s oldest daughter and the two girls giggled together. He waited patiently while everyone got settled, then he headed toward the highway and home.
In the back seat Laurel fumbled with her portable radio. “I had a great time, Dad,” she said, and yawned.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. How late did you and Dolly stay up talking?”
She leaned back and yawned again. “Not late.”
“Yeah, sure.” He looked in the rearview mirror and winked.
She grinned at him. “Okay, maybe kinda late. But you know, not much past two.”
“Yikes,” Anne said from the seat next to him. “You must be tired.”
“Maybe a little,” Laurel answered. She slipped on her headset and started nodding to the beat. “I liked meeting everyone,” she said. “Dolly’s cool. We’re going to write each other.”
Jake’s first impulse was to tell her that she would do no such thing. He didn’t want his daughter corresponding with Anne’s relatives. It was a knee-jerk reaction that would only get him in trouble with both Anne and Laurel. It was also unreasonable.
He rubbed his face with one hand, then shifted in his seat. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, either. Not because he’d stayed up talking, though. He and Anne had immediately returned to the house. They hadn’t bothered to linger in the desert. There had been awkward, mumbled “good-nights,” then they’d fled for separate quarters. But even though she’d been out of sight, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her or what they’d done. He was still thinking about it.
If it wasn’t such a big mess, he’d have to laugh. After all he’d been the one saying they should just forget it. Yet every time he closed his eyes, he could see her naked body moving beneath his. He could feel her soft skin and taste her sweetness. Despite the release they’d shared, his body tightened over and over again in response to the memories. Even now, in the car, his groin hardened painfully, pressing against the button fly of his jeans. He prayed Anne wouldn’t notice.
He glanced over at her. She was wearing a green tank top and matching shorts. Freckles dotted her skin. The shirt dipped low until he could see the hint of the valley between her breasts. Her perfume whispered through the interior of the Explorer.
She stared out her window and nibbled on her lower lip. He had a view of the elegant line of her neck. Last night he’d traced that line and tasted her skin. Not quite peaches, he remembered, but hot and sweet enough to drive a man to want more.
She drew in a deep breath, her breasts rising then lowering slowly. He could see the faint outline of one nipple. The tiny bud taunted him.
He glanced in his rearview mirror. Laurel had fallen asleep curled up on the seat, her head resting on Anne’s carry-on bag. Thank God, he thought. Bad enough to have these kinds of thoughts, but it was disgusting when he considered his daughter was in the car with him. Her headset covered her ears. He could see the tape player was on. He thought about asking Anne to turn it off but he didn’t want to wake the sleeping girl. She listened to the music all the time, anyway. It wouldn’t kill her to sleep with it.
“What are you smiling at?” Anne asked.
He jerked his head toward the back seat. “She’s out like a light. I was debating whether or not to ask you to take off her headset.”
Anne twisted and looked over her shoulder. “I’m afraid I’d wake her.”
“My thoughts exactly. She’ll be fine.”
“You’re surprisingly cheerful.” She faced front and smoothed her seat belt.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I saw the way you stiffened up when Laurel said she wanted to write Dolly. Don’t you want to yell at me and get this off your chest?”
Nothing got by her. He resisted the urge to glance down at his erection. Maybe she hadn’t noticed that. “Is that what I do?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know you well enough to make a judgment. Let’s just say that’s what you’ve been doing with me about Laurel.”
“This isn’t easy for me,” he admitted.
“It’s not easy for me, either.”
She looked at him. He quickly glanced over at her and their eyes met. Awareness flashed between them. The temperature in the car seemed to climb about twenty degrees. He swore silently. So much for forgetting. He returned his attention to the road.
They passed the next two hours in silence. Laurel slept on. Jake found a country station. The sound of steel guitars blended with his daughter’s steady breathing. Anne stared out the front window. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of an emotion flickering across her face. He told himself he should ignore her. It wasn’t any of his business. But he asked anyway.
“You’re awfully quiet. What are you thinking about?” Part of him hoped she’d say “last night.” Mostly because it was all he could think about.
“Becky Sue.”
Jake shook his head. Guess he hadn’t impressed Anne as much as he’d thought he had. “Why?”
“I was thinking about her life. Five kids in a doublewide trailer in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t be happier.”
“You sound surprised.”
She shifted until she was facing him. After adjusting her seat belt, she looked up and smiled. “I suppose I am. I spent most of my time trying to get away from there. It never occurred to her to do anything
but
stay. I’d always thought she was wrong.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m not so sure. It was all so easy back then. I didn’t even think about keeping Laurel.” She glanced back at the sleeping girl. He saw her wistful smile. “I’m sorry, Jake. You’re the last person I should be dumping this on.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, and was surprised to find out he meant it. “I guess it’s because all the wondering in the world isn’t going to change the fact that you gave her up and we adopted her.”
“I know.” She leaned her head against the edge of the seat. “I always used to think that living in that tiny town and having just a few dollars above the legal
poverty level would be a horrible life for a child. I didn’t want that for my baby. Because I grew up that way. But so did Becky Sue. Her kids are doing it now. They all seem fine.”
“Except for Joey chewing on the dog.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, there is that.” Her humor faded. “Don’t be mad at me, but I can’t help wondering if Laurel could have been happy there, too.”
“Maybe she would have been.”
She raised her head, her eyes wide with surprise. “I was sure you’d jump down my throat at that one.”
“I’m not a complete jerk.”
“I remember. Just half of one,” she said, her voice low and teasing.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter. He liked this side of Anne Baker. He liked the quick mind and the gentle teasing. He liked the way her warm breath tickled his arm. He liked the sun catching a strand of her hair and turning the pale red color to auburn. He liked the feeling of family and it scared him to death.
“So you’re having second thoughts,” he said, returning to their original conversation.