Exposed to You (15 page)

She stared up at the ceiling sightlessly, trying to catch her breath. She tasted the sharp tang of her own sweat in her mouth. Through a haze of disorientation, she felt Everett move, and then the spring in the mattress when his weight came off it. She felt something flick against the arch of her foot and twitched, realizing her left foot was free. Everett was freeing her ankles from the restraints. For a few seconds, she heard nothing but her own ragged, soughing breath in her ears. Her body still buzzed, her nerves still zipped and sizzled. She was having a hard time calming following her explosive climax.

The mattress dipped and she lifted her head. Her breath caught, burning in her lungs for a moment, before she gasped again for air. Everett came toward her on his knees, naked, his already lean, defined muscles looking especially tight and hard. A condom stretched over his enormous erection. He looped his forearm beneath one of her knees and kept coming toward her on his knees until he paused between her thighs. She watched, her breath scoring her lungs, as he lowered his head and gently pushed back her thigh, rolling back her hips. His head lowered, he took his cock in his hand and pushed it into her slit. He flexed his hips, impaling her in one swift, shocking thrust.

Joy shouted out hoarsely. Her body tightened, her muscles rippling at the bold possession. He grunted thickly, gripping firmly on the thigh he held in the air. He lifted her hips several inches off the mattress and began to fuck her. She bit her lip to stop from screaming. The friction was nearly too much for her, but he was clearly enjoying it. No . . . relishing it.

Hadn’t she thought just moments ago that she’d love to be able to swallow his cock and stimulate every inch of it at the same time? Maybe her mouth couldn’t. But her pussy could. She ground her teeth together and bounced her hips in a counter rhythm to his pounding cock. The uncomfortable pressure deep inside her morphed to a burn . . . a delicious friction. She watched him, his glinting gaze, his rigid face, the long, golden stretch of flexing, pumping muscle.

“Harder,” she managed between clenched teeth, even though part of her was screaming silently that she couldn’t take it. “Fuck me harder.”

His chest and arm muscle tightened. He drew her leg up higher and tauter at the same moment she spread her other thigh on the mattress. His hips turned his cock into a fluid, ruthless piston. He pounded into her until she screamed without drawing breath. She felt his cock jerk viciously high inside her. His pelvis crashed against hers with a loud
whap
. He lifted her, grinding himself against her exposed clit while his cock swelled.

Her scream of barraging sensation segued to a keen of climax. She shuddered in tight, delicious pleasure, but she lifted her head and opened her eyes, wanting to see him as he came, absorbing his primal growls, loving the way his sweat-gilded muscles tightened and loosened, went rigid and shuddered with each consecutive ejaculation . . .

With every beat of his wild, pumping heart.

She’d done that to
him.

Savage triumph blazed through her at the thought. She let her head fall back on the mattress as she tried to catch her breath again. It was shocking, how accurately, how powerfully, he could give her pleasure.

But what was truly alarming—and definitely addicting—was how much she loved pleasing Everett in return.

Eleven

Joy’s eyes opened the next morning in a room that had been transformed into a golden, light-filled globe. She remained still, her head resting on Everett’s chest, spying a beam of sunlight escaping around the curtains to flicker across his biceps and reach its luminescent tendrils toward a nipple. His chest moved steadily up and down, teasing the little light fairy; the curtains shifted ever so slightly, and the beam danced along his shoulder.

Joy reached and gently mingled her fingers with the sunlight on his collarbone, making her touch nearly as ephemeral so as not to wake him. The light fairy had warmed his smooth skin. She snatched back her hand when Everett’s facial muscles tightened and his even breathing halted, but he fell almost immediately back into a deep sleep. She carefully extricated herself from his hold and the bedclothes, smiling.

The light truly did love him.

She quietly removed some clothing from her bag and entered the bathroom. When she came out ten minutes later, dressed for a jog, the sunlight-speckled, mussed bed was empty. She found Everett in the cozy little kitchen of the guesthouse, wearing pajama bottoms and scooping coffee into a filter.

“Morning,” she said when he glanced around and caught her eye.

“Hey.” She liked the rough, early morning quality of his voice. He flipped the coffeemaker closed, set down the bag he was holding and switched on the power. He turned toward her, his arms outstretched and his gaze moving over her with appreciative warmth. She went to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck. “You look like you’re ready for some exercise,” he murmured, his gaze on her mouth.

Her lips twitched. The way he was looking at her, she had a pretty good idea what kind of exercise he was thinking about.

“You have a one-track mind, Everett Hughes.”

He grinned. “So I like to keep things simple. Is that a bad thing?” She laughed and he swept down to kiss her. He transferred his mouth to her neck after a moment, his whiskers and warm lips the ideal combination for making her shiver. She pressed her nose to a pectoral muscle and inhaled. He smelled delicious—lingering soap, a hint of sweet sweat and sex. His kisses on her neck were becoming lustier by the minute. She gave in to temptation and gently bit at dense muscle.

He lifted his head, looking vaguely irritated that she’d interrupted his breakfast on her neck.

“The kind of exercise I was thinking about was jogging,” she said.

“Spoilsport.”

She smiled. “Do you want to come or not?”

“I want to come, all right,” he muttered. She snorted with laughter, not at all concerned about his beleaguered expression. He gave her a glance that assured her he knew he was being highly ill-used as he released her. “Just give me a second to get dressed,” he said, leaving the kitchen.

Joy drank one of the high-protein shakes she’d brought along and made the bed while he was in the bathroom. While she was fluffing the pillows, she noticed the drawer that Everett had removed the cuffs and restraints from last night was slightly ajar. What other naughty things did he keep in that drawer?

She tossed down the pillow and edged toward the bureau. When she heard the shower door open, she fled the bedroom guiltily. By the time he came out to the kitchen again a few minutes later, she was pouring coffee into two cups.

“I don’t know what you put in your coffee,” Joy said.

“I take it black, thanks,” he said, examining the label of her shake. Judging from his expression, Everett didn’t put much stock in health food. Joy glanced down over him, her gaze sticking on his shoes.

“Everett . . . you’re not wearing those jogging, are you?”

He looked down at himself dubiously. He was wearing an ancient-looking polo shirt that had once probably been black but had faded over many washes to a dingy gray, an Army-green pair of baggy cargo shorts that fell below his knees, white socks and a pair of black Converse high-tops with white laces. “What? It’s comfortable,” he said defensively. “The raccoons and squirrels aren’t going to care how I’m dressed.”

“I wasn’t talking about your outfit, if that’s what one actually calls an ensemble like that,” she said wryly. “I’m referring to your shoes. You shouldn’t be jogging in shoes like that.”

“I always do,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee unconcernedly.

“But, Everett—there’s no support in those shoes whatsoever. Your arches are going to collapse.”

He shrugged. “They haven’t so far.”

“That’s not a good reason for you to keep doing it. My running shoes are the most expensive thing in my wardrobe. And here you have all that money, but you’re wearing those pitiful shoes,” she scolded as she walked over to the refrigerator. She opened the door and peered inside the nearly empty receptacle. “I can’t believe no one in your family has guilted you into buying shoes that are good for your feet.”

“I don’t let people guilt me into anything. Are you looking for cream?”

“I can drink it black,” she said, closing the door.

“We’ll take our cups up to Katie and Rill’s and sneak some.”

“Okay. Wait!” she called when he started toward the front door. She reached for a spray bottle she’d put on the counter and held it up. “Sunblock and mosquito repellent.”

His eyes glinted with interest as he walked toward her. “You want me to put it on you?”

“No. I already put it on. You should put some on, though.”

He shrugged. “I never wear that stuff.”

She shook her head, grinning when she caught his eye.

“You never worry about things like West Nile virus, Lyme disease, skin cancer?” she asked, amused, as they started out the door and across the large yard to Katie and Rill’s house. The forest chirped, twittered and creaked behind them, cheerfully alive and hopping in the early morning light.

“I worry about stuff, but not about those things,” Everett said.

“What things, then?” she couldn’t help but ask as they crept up the front stairs. What
did
a man like Everett Hughes worry about?

He opened his mouth to answer but paused as he opened the screen door and tested the knob. It was locked.

“They’re probably all still sleeping. I know Seth will be. He’s usually up all hours working and sleeps until ten or eleven. It’s only six thirty,” Joy whispered guiltily as Everett used some keys he had in his pocket to unlock the door. They were both clutching their coffees. The summer day was already so balmy, hardly any steam rose from the hot liquid.

“We’ll be the highest caliber cream thieves—get in, get the goods, get out,” Everett whispered.

She rolled her eyes and followed him into the silent kitchen. Barnyard rose from his reclining position on the floor and trotted up to them on short legs, his doleful brown eyes slightly accusatory. He sniffed Everett’s high-tops and waddled away.

“They must sleep so much more peacefully with a watchdog like that,” Everett mumbled.

He was about to pour some cream into her proffered cup a moment later when he suddenly raised his hand in a
caution
gesture.

“What?” Joy whispered, eyes wide.

“Did you hear that? Daisy’s awake.”

Joy strained to hear, but the big old house was silent.

“I don’t hear anything.”

Everett hastily poured some cream into her coffee and set her cup on the kitchen island. He signaled for her to follow him. She really did feel like a thief tiptoeing down the long hallway after him. They crept into Daisy’s confection of a little girl nursery, Everett several steps ahead of her. She saw him looking down into the white bassinet cradle. The next thing she knew, he was reaching in and lifting his niece into his arms.

He grinned at Joy and made a silent gesture toward the open door. Joy led them into the empty living room.

“Katie and Rill have both been sleep-deprived lately,” Everett murmured as they sat on the couch. “Is it okay if we watch her for a little bit and give them a little more shut-eye?”

“Of course,” Joy said, sliding over on the cushion so that she could look into the bundle tucked in the crook of Everett’s arm. Daisy blinked sleepy-looking eyes and looked up at her uncle. She pursed perfect pink lips and made a wet burbling sound. Joy grinned. Daisy had at first demonstrated some stranger anxiety toward her last night, but by the time the evening had been over, she’d warmed up and allowed Joy to hold her. The little girl had inherited Rill’s dark hair and Katie’s delicate features. As for her eyes, they were a striking combination of Rill’s blue and Katie’s green.

“Her eyes remind me of yours,” Joy told Everett, touching a tiny hand. Daisy bobbed her fist and turned her sleepy eyes toward her. “Hi, Daisy. Good morning, pretty girl.”

Daisy went still and stared at her for a second as if spellbound.

“Yeah, that’s how I feel when I look at her,” Everett murmured. Warmth flooded Joy at his casually spoken words. Daisy turned at the sound of his deep voice. He leaned down and kissed her on a smooth cheek, and Daisy pumped both of her fists at once, a definite sign of approval. Joy chuckled.

“She loves her uncle. You must spend a lot of time with her.”

“Not as much as I’d like,” Everett said quietly. “I can’t believe she’s already been on this planet for almost half a year. Time flies, doesn’t it, Daisy-girl?”

He continued to talk to the baby in a low, confidential tone about anything that crossed his mind. He asked her if the Dodgers would make the play-offs this year, if she liked Joy’s running shoes better than his, and what was her opinion on Tinkerbell—minx or misunderstood? Daisy stared up at him with a somber, adorable focus. After a few minutes, Joy transferred her gaze to his face as he charmed his niece. Her heart dipped in her chest. He looked easily as happy and transfixed as Daisy did.

“You’re going to get a big head, having a pretty girl look at you that way,” she murmured when Everett shifted Daisy to his lap.

“He already has one when it comes to Daisy. That’s why he comes up here and wakes her up, to puff himself up a little further,” a sleepy, beleaguered voice said. Joy glanced up to see Katie standing there, her long hair tumbling around her shoulders in a wild, mussed tangle of curls and waves. She wore shorts, a tank top, slippers and a fluffy robe partially tied around her waist. “I can’t believe you woke up my baby again, Everett.”

“She was awake, wasn’t she?” Everett asked, looking to Joy for confirmation.

“Yes, I mean—I think so,” Joy said, hiding a smile. She’d never really had any independent confirmation of Everett’s claim that his niece was awake.

“Morning, Joy,” Katie said as she scuffed over in her slippers and peered down at Daisy.

“Good morning. Sorry if we woke you.”

Katie smiled down at her daughter. “You didn’t wake me. But I’m willing to bet mean old Uncle Everett got you up again, didn’t he, Daisy?”

Daisy blew a raspberry and laughed at the sound. She hardly looked unhappy at the idea of being yanked out of bed by Everett. They all laughed along with her. Katie patted her diaper. “Here, I’ll take her. I think she needs to be changed.”

“I’ll do it,” Everett said, still smiling. He stood and walked out of the room, his tall male form and muscular arms a sweet contrast to the tiny, delicate female he carried. Joy shared a smile with Katie.

“He’s impossible,” Katie said, her fondness for her brother trumping her irritated act.

“He loves his niece,” Joy said, standing.

“Yeah, he does. And of course Daisy worships him. One of the few women on the planet who can turn his head. Come on, I’ll make us some coffee.”

They ended up having a casual light breakfast of juice, coffee and toast with Katie and Daisy before they finally got off for their run, promising Katie on the way out the door they’d return for lunch.

“Aren’t you going to stretch?” Joy asked Everett when they got toward the end of the Pierce driveway. She glanced up from a bent-over position, her palms touching the concrete.

“Why would I do that, when I can watch you do it?” he asked, his gaze on her making her feel warm.

She shook her head and stood, stretching her arms behind her back. “You’re a mess, running around in beat-up tennis shoes, not wearing sunblock, not stretching before a jog,” she murmured amusedly. “Someone ought to take care of you.”

“You want the job?” he asked as she started to run and kept pace with her.

“Like you’d ever listen to anything I said,” she said, keeping her tone as light as his.

“You might be surprised.”

She gave him a wary sideways glance. He wore a devilish grin, but his eyes had that expression in them that she’d caught in the sketch. Her heart rate leapt up to an optimal cardiac exercise rate, and they’d barely cleared the driveway.

By the time they started to descend the hill road, Joy following Everett’s lead, the sun was rising over the eastern tree line. It was going to be another summer scorcher. Joy was relieved when Everett suggested they get off the road and take one of the well-tended paths created by the forest preserve. Humidity clung heavily amidst all the tall trees, but the shade was a comfort and the scenery was lovely.

“How far do you usually jog?” Everett asked her fifteen minutes later. The path they were treading followed the course of a small stream. She gave him a sideways glance. He wasn’t even a little out of breath. She had the impression he was slowing his pace to accommodate hers.

“About four or five miles?”

He nodded. “There’s someplace I want you to see. I’ll try to work it so we get there toward the end of our run.”

Everett seemed perfectly capable of conversation while he jogged, but Joy found it more difficult to talk and maintain her rhythm. He must have noticed, because they jogged for a half hour in companionable silence. They began a slow, steady ascent up a hill. By the time they reached the summit, Joy was coated in a sheen of perspiration and breathing heavily.

“It’s close by,” Everett muttered next to her.

Joy didn’t understand what he meant and didn’t have the breath to ask him. They cleared a thick grove of trees and both of them came to a halt simultaneously.

“Oh, it’s pretty,” Joy murmured. She bent and placed her hands on her thighs, panting. They stood on the edge of a rippling, circular lake that nestled as if in the protective palm of the forest. The sun shone over the tops of the trees on the eastern side, casting a lengthened mirrored image of them nearly the length of the lake, making the water a shimmering green with patches of blue-reflected sky interspersed.