Soul Deep (14 page)

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Authors: Pamela Clare

Tags: #Romantic Suspense, #Horses, #colorado, #Western, #disabled, #mature romance, #pamela clare, #iteam, #skin deep, #mature couple

BOOK: Soul Deep
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CHAPTER TEN

Jack broke the kiss, looked down at Janet. “I
think we’d both be more comfortable if we moved this to the
bed.”

She smiled, her lips wet from kissing him. “I
like the way you think.”

He drew her to her feet, helped her walk the
short distance, willing himself to ignore his own anger and to
focus only on the sweet woman who was trusting him with her body
and soul tonight. He wouldn’t be any good to her if he wasted his
energy hating the man who’d shot her. The bastard was dead.

He drew her onto the bed beside him, ran his
knuckles over the smooth curve of her cheek, her skin so soft.
“We’re going to take this nice and easy. Tell me when I’m getting
it right, okay?”

She slid a hand into his hair and drew his
lips toward hers. “So far, so very good.”

That was reassuring to hear. It had been
seven long, lonely years since he’d held a woman, seven years since
he’d kissed a woman, and he worried that being out of practice
might make him clumsy. But she wasn’t complaining. Far from it.

Her fingers curled in the hair at his nape,
her body arching against his as they kissed. He let himself go,
tasting his way over her cheek and down the column of her throat.
He felt the ragged beating of her pulse beneath his lips, watched
her skin tighten into goose bumps, her responsiveness
gratifying.

He slid a hand inside her gown, cupped her
breast, its softness precious against his palm. He nibbled his way
across her collarbone and kissed the divot at the base of her
throat, his fingers plucking and teasing the petal softness of her
nipple to a tight point. She gave a quick little gasp, arching into
his hand.

Blood surged to his groin.

“Let’s get this out of the way.” He wanted to
see, taste and touch every inch of her skin, her body so different
from his.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up, her
dark hair spilling around her shoulders. “My zipper.”

“I’ve got it.” He reached behind her, found
her zipper tab, worked it down, then tugged the gown down to her
waist and unfastened her black lace bra.

A jolt of pure lust shot through him, two
beautiful, natural breasts spilling into his hands, dusky pink
nipples puckered into tight buds.

He rubbed his thumbs over their tips. “You
are beautiful.”

She reached over, fumbled with his tie. “I
want to touch you, too.”

“That seems fair.” He took over for her,
making short work of the tie, tossing the dress coat over a nearby
chair, then removing his waistcoat and shirt with all of its
damnable buttons and cuff links.

He watched as her gaze traveled over him,
gave her time to explore. She pressed her palms against his chest,
caressed his pecs and abs, her dilated pupils and her rapid
breathing telling him that she liked what she saw. He pressed one
of her hands against the place where his heart was pounding so hard
and bore her back onto the bed. Then he let himself feast, suckling
first one nipple and then the other, flicking their tips with his
tongue, grazing her puckered areolas with his teeth, tugging on
them with his lips.

She gasped, moaned, arched upward, her nails
digging into his bicep.

He kept it up until she was panting, her eyes
squeezed shut, her hips shifting on the bed. “Oh, you are
sensitive, aren’t you?”

Her eyes fluttered open again, and she looked
at him, confused. “Hmm?”

She was just
that
far gone.

Good.

He chuckled, lowering his mouth to kiss and
lick the skin beneath one breast, teasing the other with his palm.
While his mouth stayed busy, he let his hand wander, let it skim
over her ribcage and belly, savoring the satin feel of her skin and
the way her muscles tensed at his touch.

He had to get her the rest of the way out of
this damned gown, but that meant venturing into sensitive
territory. “I want you naked. Are you okay with that?”

“Mmm, yes! But…”

He waited for her to finish.

“I don’t wax or shave like a lot of women do
these days.”

He laughed. “Good. I don’t want to feel like
I’m having sex with a 10-year-old. I came of age in the seventies,
when natural was sexy. I like bush.”

She laughed, watching him as he finished
undressing her, tossed her gown across the chair on top of his
dress coat, and tugged off her black lace panties.

And he saw. “Oh, angel.”

There was an angry red scar that ran the
width of her lower belly, another that curved from her left buttock
halfway down the outside of her thigh. There was a quarter-sized
scar where the bullet had entered her body and a fist-sized scar in
the crease of her hip in front where it had exited, taking flesh
with it.

The rage he’d fought to subdue flared to life
again. He reacted on instinct, sliding down to stroke and kiss his
way over her scars, wanting so very much to take away the months of
pain and suffering this single act of violence had brought her. He
could change nothing, of course, but he
could
reassure her
that none of this bothered him. She was nothing less than a hero in
his eyes.

She sat up, a smile on her lips, a sheen of
tears in her eyes. “You are so sweet.”

Then her eyes narrowed. “Hey, why are you
still wearing pants?”

“A foolish oversight, I assure you.” He
wrestled with his emotions, fighting back his rage once more,
trying to be the man she needed tonight.

He wasn’t ashamed of his body. He undressed
slowly, letting her look her fill as he took off his shoes, pulled
off his socks, then unzipped his trousers and removed them together
with his boxer briefs. Her gaze was fixed on his cock, which grew
harder under the heat of her perusal.

“Is that better?”

“Oh, that’s
so
much better.”

# # #

Janet stared at Jack’s body, felt a flutter
deep in her belly, desire for him turning to liquid between her
thighs. The man might be sixty-three, but he was ripped. His broad
chest was sprinkled with salt-and-pepper curls, his shoulders,
arms, chest, abdomen, and thighs all lean muscle, his cock jutting
upward, thick and hard.

Oh, she wanted him.

A year ago, it would have been so simple. But
now…

She reached for him, and he came to her,
stretching out beside her, his gaze sliding over her, his hand
caressing her from her breasts to her belly, his touch so very
arousing. “Tell me if anything I do hurts.”

“Just don’t stop unless I say stop.”

“Deal.” He moved his body closer and parted
her thighs, lifting her right leg so that it draped over his hip,
opening her to his touch. “I need a little room here so I can get
to know you.”

His words sent anticipation shivering through
her, his erection pressing hot and insistent against her right hip,
his fingers tracing circles over the sensitive skin of her inner
thighs. Then he lowered his mouth to her breasts and began to
suckle her again.

It was such sweet torture, every tug of his
lips, every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth sending
sparks into her belly until she wanted to scream.

“Jack, you’re
killing
me.”

“Am I?” He sounded amused, his voice
deep.

Then the hand that had been tickling her
inner thighs moved to cup her. The pressure felt so good, his
fingers parting her labia to explore her, teasing her and playing
with her before finally settling on her clitoris, flicking,
stroking, and …
Oh
!

“Just … like …
that
.”

The man knew what he was doing. She’d give
him that. The combined sensations of his mouth and busy fingers
were almost more than she could take, her body aching to be filled,
the fire he’d built inside her begging to be quenched.

Somehow she managed to speak. “I want you …
inside
.”

“Yeah?” He shifted his hand, one of his
fingers making slick circles around the entrance to her vagina.
“You are so wet. I can’t wait to taste you here.”

His words made her pulse skip.

Then, slowly, so slowly, he slid a finger,
then two, inside her
.
There was no pain,
only pleasure as he answered her yearning with slow, slick strokes.
The fears Janet had carried for so long began to unravel as her
body took over, Jack’s skilled touch driving her toward the
edge.

He shifted from one nipple to the other,
whispering against her burning skin on the way, the vibrations of
his voice seeming to pass through her. “I want to feel you come.
Come around my fingers.”

His words were like an aphrodisiac. Not that
she needed one. She was already drunk on sex, her body hovering on
the shimmering brink of an orgasm. It seemed like an eternity since
she’d felt like this, so strung out… wanting him… wanting…

She came with a cry, climax surging through
her in a rush of bliss, his fingers drawing out her pleasure until
she lay weak and panting. She opened her eyes, found him watching
her, a smile on his handsome face.

“Welcome back, angel.”

“Jack.” She reached up, caressed his cheek.
“You’re incredible.”

He nuzzled her ear, a tender gesture that
made her belly flutter. “The pleasure was mine, believe me.”

Then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed
her, a slow, sweet kiss. And the fire he’d just extinguished flared
to life again.

She reached down, took his cock in her hand,
stroked the hard length of him, felt the muscles of his belly
contract. “I want you inside me.”

He twisted and reached for something—a box of
condoms.

“You don’t have to do that. Menopause hits
the women in my family early. I haven’t had a period in ten months.
I mean… at my age? It’s not going to happen.”

“If you’re sure.”

She smiled, gave his cock a gentle tug,
spread her legs. “Come here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He settled himself between her
thighs, lifting her left leg carefully, opening her legs wider.
“How does that feel?”

A tinge of pain shot through her thigh,
making her wince.

“Maybe put this beneath it.” She reached for
a pillow.

He did as she’d suggested, tucking the pillow
beneath the bend of her knee. “How’s that?”

“Good.” She stroked him, savored the feel of
his erection in her hand.

He let her play, his muscles tense as he held
himself still above her, his blue eyes dark, the intensity in his
gaze making her breath catch.

She guided him to her vagina, let him take it
from there.

“Tell me if it hurts.” He nudged himself inch
by inch into her. “When they said you’d be tight … they meant it.
Jesus.

It felt wonderful—until…

A muscle spasm made her gasp, the pain sharp
like a charley horse deep inside her. “Stop!”

Jack withdrew.

She closed her eyes, her heart sinking as the
pain ebbed.

He kissed her cheek. “We don’t have to do
this. There are a lot of ways we can enjoy each other that don’t
involve my being inside you.”

But she didn’t want to surrender this part of
her sexuality to a bullet. “Please. I don’t want to give this up.
Can we try again?”

“I don’t want to cause you pain. It hurts me
to see you hurt.”

“Maybe if you don’t go deep… ”

“Relax, honey.” He slid a finger inside her,
caressed her.

She closed her eyes, willed her pelvic floor
muscles to relax.

“That’s better.”

She grew aroused again, his persistent
motions like an internal massage—a very erotic and stimulating
massage.

He withdrew his finger, caught her right leg
behind her knee, brought it up toward her shoulder, opening her
more fully. “Just relax.”

He nudged the head of his cock inside her,
then withdrew. Again and again he entered her, going a little
deeper each time before withdrawing. Where there had been pain,
there was now only pleasure.

“Oh, Jack,
don’t… stop
.”

# # #

Jack kept the rhythm slow and easy, sliding
in and out of her heat. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her,
his lips hungry for her mouth, her cheeks, her throat, her breasts.
He was lost in her—the hot, tight feel of her, the musky scent of
her arousal, the taste of her skin.

He wanted to last, wanted to make her come
again, but it had been so long, so damned long. She felt like
heaven, so perfect. He willed himself to slow down, to focus on her
and not the sensation of being inside her, shifting to ride her
higher, the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen little
clit with each thrust.

She gave a little gasp, her nails digging
into his back, her inner muscles drawing tighter. “Oh, that feels …
so
… good.”

It sure as hell did.

God, he’d missed sex. He’d missed intimacy.
He’d missed touching and holding a woman. He’d missed all the
sweet, feminine things a woman brought to a man’s life. He’d missed
having someone special who was only his to care about.

And he
did
care about her. God help
him, but in the span of just a few days, she’d come to mean the
world to him.

Her eyes were closed now, her lips parted,
her nails biting into his back, her breathing erratic, every
exhalation a little moan.

He felt his balls draw tight, the first
glimmer of orgasm uncoiling in his belly, the snug, slick friction
driving him to the brink. He fought to relax, to hold on just a
little longer, wanting to give her all the sexual pleasure he
could. Then he felt the tension inside her peak and shatter.

Her breath broke, and she cried out his name,
her back arching as she came, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Jack!”

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