In the Firelight (13 page)

Her eyes darted back to his and saw the heat reflecting from the fire dancing off them, giving him a devilish appearance.
Yes, she most definitely should have told him she was busy… she should have made him leave. Without a doubt.

Taking a deep breath, a breath that caused her chest to rise and drew his eyes once again to the skin she had unwittingly exposed, Shea tugged her sweater back and tried to steer the conversation onto something else.
Anything else.

“How’s your report going?” All the resolve in the world couldn’t erase the breathy softness to her voice. It was as though she was channeling her inner Marilyn Monroe without even trying.

Shit
.

The words seemed to jolt Rhys from his focused attention on her breasts.
Thank God.
She needed to keep this… platonic.

“Slow. The discussion with the locals varies some, so it is kind of hard to summarize everyone’s opinion into a report.”

Shea knitted her brow and looked at the fire. “It baffles me that everyone here isn’t vitriolic with their opposition,” she grumbled. “It’s going to ruin this town, you know.”

“So you’ve said… a few times, I believe.”

“And yet, you’re still here. You’re still looking into it,” she turned an irritated expression back to him. “You know this is going to fuck things up for all the residents of this place. You know that.”

“Shea, we don’t know that for sure… there are a lot of things that can affect this.”

“That’s bullshit, Rhys.” She stood and hastily crossed to the kitchen. His presence unsettled her. His calm argument frustrated her. She had to do something with the frustration, so she began piling her few dishes in the sink and filling it with warm, sudsy water. “You don’t understand. This part of the area is special. It hasn’t gotten weird like Bigfork or Polson. It’s still the small Montana town I grew up in. And this resort will fuck that all up.”

Rhys followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the island, just off to the side of her. He crossed one leg over the other and folded his arms across her chest, watching her intently. She flushed slightly, both with anger and his close inspection, and she focused her aggravation on the dishes as she began to hastily scrub them and place them in the other sink to rinse.

“Why are you always so angry with me?” Rhys asked, sounding slightly amused.

“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry at the situation.”

“Sweetheart, you sure seem to focus that anger on me a lot.”

Shea whirled around to face him, grabbing a dishtowel to dry her hands. “Okay, maybe I am a little angry with you. You have the power to stop this.”

“Well, then shouldn’t you be a little nicer to me?” he smiled.

“What, I should be all sugary sweet to make you want to do the right thing? You should just
DO
the right thing, Rhys. I shouldn’t have to go all wonky like every other fucking woman in this town.”

“Huh… Every other fucking woman?” Rhys lifted his chin a little, and his smile changed slightly, his eyes narrowing, as though he had just seen something in her.

The look he suddenly focused on her was becoming heated, and Shea walked around him to the other side of the island, twisting closed a bag of rolls and tossing them on the counter in the corner of the kitchen. She flicked off the overhead light, dropping the kitchen to a warm glow from the fireplace close by, and began to wipe crumbs off the counter with her hand, flushing as he slowly moved around to stand beside her. And then she felt the brush of his breath in her ear.

“That’s it… You’re a little jealous, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Chapter 10 ~ The Fire

“Of course not,” Shea muttered, shaking slightly at the sound of his voice so close behind her. The heat of his body that radiated to hers.

“See, I don’t think it’s
all
about the ski hill. I think there’s something else going on here,” Rhys huskily said in her ear. Shea’s breath caught in her throat and her pulse raced. He pulled slightly at her arm, and she slowly turned around, first focusing on the woven pattern of the thermal shirt he wore. Her eyes rose to the neckline where a faint sprinkling of hair could be seen. Then up to the deep blue of his eyes, almost black in the low light. He stood so close to her. Towering over her. "The thing is, honey, I think you kind of like me," Rhys murmured as the flickers of firelight danced in the darkness around them.

She scoffed at him, rolling her eyes. "You? Just because you're all like hot and sexy with your broad shoulders and dark hair and blue eyes.” She purposefully kept her eyes turned to the side, her last bit of armor against his nearness, but was unable to keep her gaze from his for long.
Keep it together, Shea. He’s only a man. An unbelievably gorgeous, God-like man, but a man nonetheless.
With increasing effort, she looked up at him attempting to convey disdain. “I mean, yes, you're gorgeous. But every chick in this town has been making goo-goo eyes at you since you got here.” She dropped her gaze to his chest. It didn’t really help, but it felt safer than looking him in the eye. “I've never been one to get caught up in the latest fads."

"So, then," he moved a little closer, obliterating her personal bubble, causing her body to tighten with want. A whiff of soap and pine and fresh air hit her senses, and, without meaning too, as though it were completely against her will, she inhaled deeply, infusing his presence in her mind. "What you're saying is that you don't like me?" He tipped her head back up, his eyes only inches from hers, the steady blue depths holding her captive.

Her voice caught in her throat as she attempted to drop her gaze.
Oh, there were those lips. Oh my.
Her mind flashed to the kisses they’d shared. The soft brush of his tongue that had coaxed her breath away. The way he had cupped his hands around her face. And he was so close again. A slight arch up onto her toes and she could taste his kiss once more.

His fingers brushed against her hip, skimming the waist of her pants beneath her thin sweater. A slight tremor quaked through her as she breathed out a soft gasp.

"Is that what you're saying, sweetheart? You don't like me? You don't want me?" His voice was deep and thick with the same desire that burned in his blue eyes.

"I don't want to want you," she murmured desperately. "You're trouble for me."

He nodded, and his thumb slipped under the hem of her sweater, grazing the bare skin low on her stomach just above the low waistline of her pants. The faint touch wrenched a gasp from her lips. "Well, I think we're kinda fucked, then. Because I don't want to want you either." His lips lowered towards hers slowly, and he stopped a hair's breadth away. With every word he breathed into her, each nerve ending in her body began to come alive. "But I'm afraid I do anyway."

The first touch of his lips was soft, gentle, almost magical. Barely a touch, yet electrifying and powerfully magnetic. A whisper of a kiss that ghosted across her lips. His hands moved from her hips to migrate around her waist, gently urging her to press more fully against him. But then it changed, and…
Oh my goodness.

He slanted his head to claim her lips, to plunder and seduce. A groan erupted from deep in her chest and her shaking fingers traced the thick muscles of his biceps and shoulders. Up into his hair that curled so slightly over the edge of his collar. Her breathing grew choppy and rushed. His body forced her back a step until she was up against the counter with his hard length pressed almost painfully against her. It had been so long since anyone had really, truly touched her. And there had never been anyone like him.

"Fuck, you're so damn sweet... I just want to devour you," he murmured as his lips trailed along the curve of her jaw to pull her earlobe between his teeth, the rough scrape of his unshaven chin leaving a tingling path in its wake. Her head arched back, drawing him down her neck to nip at her collarbones. "Why does it have to be you that does this to me?"

"This is a bad idea, you know," she exhaled with a shaky breath. "This has the potential to really fuck things up."

"I know," he mumbled against her skin as his lips traveled up the side of her neck inching their way back to her own. "But, right now, I don't really care..."

"Me either," she whispered as she stretched against him, aching for another kiss. Their mouths fused together, and the need to get closer coursed through her. Of their own accord, her arms tightened over his shoulders as her body molded into his. Every taste and caress ignited her need that much more.

His fingertips gripped her roughly, digging at her ribs, causing her sweater to ride up and reveal the soft skin underneath. A vibration ran through her body, up through her arms, and her fingers gripped wildly against the solid muscle of his shoulders. A moan rumbled through his chest. The knowledge that he was affected like she was set her on fire.

Her fingertips boldly gathered the soft fabric of his thermal, tugging the shirt up to bare the smooth, hot skin of his abs and back. His hands released her for just a moment to allow her to pull it over his head, but his hips held her steady, his throbbing length pressing her against the counter. She drew back to look at the hard, defined chest before her, and her fingertips lightly caressed his pectorals and down his ribs. They explored the dusting of dark hair that covered his sculpted muscles and then gave a little tug.

With a deep moan, he slid his hands deep into her hair and fiercely guided her mouth back to his. His grip held her forcefully and his tongue ran along the edge of her teeth, coaxing hers into his mouth. Breathlessly, she followed his lead, aching and smoldering with want. Her lips pulled away for a moment to suck a deep breath into her lungs, and Rhys devoured the tender skin of her neck before roughly capturing her mouth again.

My God! What was she doing? This wasn’t like her at all.

Rhys began to slide one strong hand down her back, pressing her against him boldly as he explored the curve of her ass at the base of her spine. The thick muscles in his arms tensed with a fiery need, pulling the desperation from deep inside her. The heat of his bare chest scorched her, but she only wanted to be closer, to be a part of him.

His other hand left her hair and joined the first, reaching for the bottom of her sweater and lifting it up over her head. The sensation of having her skin bare before him inflamed her desire. The touch of his fingertips on her bra clasp wrenched a desperate gasp from her lips. A quick flick of his wrist, and her bra was lying on the floor.

He pushed her torso back onto the cool slate of the counter, keeping his hips tightly pressed against hers as he curved her backwards. His hands held her arms down tightly against the cool surface, trapping her and holding her immobile while his teeth grazed the bony prominences of her ribs. Slowly, his callused fingers began to move along her arms, across her shoulders. Goosebumps immediately rose again all over her body, both from the chill at her back and the intense heat of his strong, rough hands slowly working their way towards the soft fullness of her breasts. Her nipples ached, painfully tight, and every muscle in her body seemed to vibrate with the need for him to touch her. The rough pads of his fingers skimmed down her sides as he gazed at her below him with a fiery intensity.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve got gorgeous tits, sweetheart,” Rhys breathed heavily. Shea trembled at the fierce sound of his voice and the crude seduction of his words. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on you since the night you found me in the snow.”

Shea closed her eyes. He was so fucking beautiful standing before her, pressed against her, staring down at her. It was too much, it was almost painful. Tormenting and forceful. With a savage intensity, his mouth fell upon her, his hands gripping, and she felt the warm wetness of his tongue at the peak of her breast. A loud cry ripped from her throat as his tongue roughly laved over the hard nipple. He drew on it deeply, and her fingernails dug into the skin on his arms as her entire body tightened. The intensity of his touch pulled her torso high, arching her back.

“Fuck,” she sobbed. “Rhys…”

His mouth was magic as he licked and sucked and nipped at her breast.

“Oh, fucking hell, smooth and soft and sweet,” he murmured against her sensitive skin as his hand rose to massage the other breast, kneading it firmly and pinching at the nipple ever so slightly. Every pull of his lips increased her desperation, caused her temperature to rise. Made her body tremble with a frantic desire for more. Her fingers threaded through his thick, dark hair and held him close as he continued to worship her breasts.

Suddenly, he straightened, pulling her up with him. His hands slipped down to the curve of her ass and he lifted her up to sit on the counter before him. Even sitting up at that height, she was barely taller than him, but this stance gave her a sense of power over him. His hands slid up her bare back, his fingers gripping fiercely and pulling her towards him. Shea’s head lolled back on her shoulders as his lips ducked to lightly bite at the skin all around her taut nipples, leaving them aching, teasing them with his hot breath. Her hands clasped his head, fingers twisting in his hair, as she tugged him closer in an attempt to guide his lips back to her aching buds. He resisted, instead choosing to explore the sensitive skin just underneath.