The Lost Sheenan's Bride (Taming of the Sheenans Book 6) (19 page)

She didn’t.

“Are you going to call her, or are we turning around?” he persisted.

Her heart thumped and Jet licked her upper lip, her mouth suddenly painfully dry. “If we call her, you will have every available Sheenan heading to Polson,” she said carefully.

He shrugged. “Then we do.”

“You don’t want that.” But then she saw his taut expression and frowned. “Or do you?” Something in his expression reminded her of Trey, when he’d visited the house and he and Shane had battled it out.

Shane’s silence said more than words ever could.

There was more to this story, she thought, and it was beginning to weigh on her. “What is this…thing…between you and the Sheenans? It’s more than the book,” she said. “It’s almost as if you have a grudge against them. Is it because they haven’t helped you with the book? Is it because they’ve just blocked your efforts, turning folks in Marietta against you?”

“No.”

“Did something else happen?”

“Yes. But it was a long time ago.”

“And it has nothing to do with McKenna or the Douglases, or the fact that the Sheenans aren’t sympathetic to your book?”

Silence stretched, heavy and significant. “No, it’s not. It’s personal.”

Her thoughts raced. She tried to see what piece she was missing. There was something else at work, if only she could see it. “Did you know the Sheenans before you came to Marietta?”

“
No
.”

“Did they know you?”

“No.”

“Then what?” She saw his expression and suppressed a sigh.

He wasn’t going to tell her. He wasn’t about to confide. She could push and start another argument, or she could let it go. She let it go.

“I’ll call Harley,” she said quietly, “but I think now the best thing is for me to attend the course tomorrow. I’m registered, it’s paid for; I just need to go. And then I can tell her I caught a ride with you. But that means you’d need to drop me off in the morning, and then pick me up after. Would that work? Or is Missoula too far from the lake?”

He seemed pleased by her decision. “It’s just a little over an hour. That’s easy to do.”

“So we’ll still go to Polson tonight? And then early in the morning you’ll drive me to Missoula?”

“Or we can stay in Missoula or even in Butte tonight, and we can get up early and I’ll drop you on my way.”

“But you’ve already paid for a night in Polson.”

“I can afford to pay for a couple of rooms in either place.”

“I can pay for my own,” she answered quickly.

He leaned towards her, his hand sliding to her nape. He drew her towards him and kissed her. “But I like doing things for you,” he said, deep voice pitched even lower.

His hand felt deliciously warm on her skin, while his lips felt cool. His tongue licked at her lip, and she opened for him, nerves zinging, practically dancing with pleasure as he tasted her and then explored her mouth. Heat exploded within her and her body arched, leaning in to the kiss, leaning in to him, wanting more contact, more pressure, more sensation.

Shane’s hand slid across her lap, finding her seatbelt. He undid the belt, freeing her only to pull her from her seat, onto his lap.

His thighs were hard and she could feel the ridge of his erection press against her bottom. He held her more closely, her breasts crushed to his chest, and she shuddered as his hand found the side of her breast, and then beneath. She might as well have been naked. There seemed to be nothing between them. She could feel him through his jeans. He was so hard and hitting places where she was sensitive and she squirmed, overwhelmed by the intensity and the desire.

Shane cupped her breast, stroking, and she couldn’t stifle the low moan of pleasure, her nipples peaking inside her bra, the friction exquisite. She’d never felt so much with anyone. Not even with Ben. Shane was overwhelming in every way—good and bad—and her heart raced, pulse beating so fast she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

With one hand in her hair, he tipped her head back to give him better access to her mouth. She whimpered again as his tongue took her mouth, and he sucked on the tip of her tongue, the rhythm imitating lovemaking. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, nails biting at the muscle and skin.

If he wanted her now, if he stripped off her clothes now, she’d find it impossible to say no.

Crazy to feel so strongly about him.

Crazy to want him when everyone in Marietta was so conflicted about him.

Crazy to feel connected when there was so little she really knew about him.

Nothing about her feelings made sense. And yet she couldn’t stay away from him. Couldn’t push him away or tell him to go away and shut down this thing between them.

The kiss became more insistent. His fingers had found the tip of her breast and the kiss and his touch had her almost crying for relief.

It had been forever since she’d wanted to be touched, and right now all she wanted was him. Skin. Only skin. Only pressure—

Shane broke off the kiss, his head lifting, his dark eyes half hidden by lowered lashes. But he was breathing hard, too. His slash of cheekbones glowed a dusky red.

“If I didn’t respect you so much I’d rip your jeans off and make love to you right here, right now.” His deep voice rumbled through her. “But I do respect you. And I’ve got to protect you—”

“From what?”

“From me.” His mouth was still on hers. “And what you don’t yet know about me.”

The words were spoken quietly but she heard them, and she stiffened, and slowly lifted her head.

Part of her wanted to return to her seat, but another part couldn’t bear to break the contact. She wasn’t ready to leave him, not when she still needed him and wanted him and wanted to figure out why everything in her craved more connection with him instead of less.

“Are you keeping secrets?” she asked as lightly as she could manage while trying to hide her fear.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t.”

He looked pained. “Maybe that’s why I have more than my share.”

She mulled this over, and as she thought, she reached for his long hair, and let the loose curls slide through her fingers. Close, his hair wasn’t black but a rich, dark chocolate with lighter sun streaked pieces here and there. “Would your secrets hurt me?”

“They could,” he admitted.

“That’s ominous.”

His brow lowered. “I’m doing everything I can to be sure you wouldn’t be hurt, though.”

She wasn’t going to move off of his lap without an explanation. And so she just touched him, exploring his beautiful face, lightly tracing his dark brows and the neat dark beard on his jaw. His beard was as soft as his hair. His eyebrows were strong lines over his nose and yet they balanced his broad forehead and firm mouth perfectly. He had a perfect face. It was almost a familiar face. She tried to think of her favorite actors and which one he resembled, because there was something about him that was so very familiar, and perhaps that was why she liked him so much, and maybe that was what drew her to him. The familiarity. As well as his intelligence and strength, which blazed in his eyes…

She wrapped her hands around his neck, thumbs stroking the sinewy column of his throat, and then lower to his collarbones. She could see and feel his quick intake. She stared at his mouth, fascinated by the shape and the feel when pressed to her own.

She kissed him lightly, and then with more hunger as he began to kiss her back, his lips moving beneath hers. She didn’t understand how he seemed to know just how to kiss her. Kissing him made her feel so many things—and not just physical. Emotion balled in her chest, strong and fierce and so full of longing. The longing swept through her, an aching wave of hope and need, the hope and need so strong hot gritty tears burned at the back of her eyes.

I love you
, she wanted to tell him.
I love you
.

But how could she? Especially as he’d just confessed he had secrets that could hurt her. How could she love someone that was still just a stranger?

But the way he kissed her made her feel safe and secure. He kissed her as though he wanted her. Maybe even needed her.

“There are things I wonder about you,” she said after a moment. “Things about your past. Things that don’t line up.”

“Such as?”

Jet stared into Shane’s dark eyes. His hands were on her hips. His touch firm, almost possessive. She liked that. Maybe too much.

“The fact that you were born in Marietta.” She continued to hold his gaze, gauging his response. “Your decision to write a book about a crime in Marietta. And then the decision to lease the Sheenan house when you said there is this…issue…between you and them, which strikes me as rather suspicious.”

He said nothing but she was conscious of his hands, and his warmth, and the intensity of his gaze locking with hers.

“Obviously, I can’t make you confide in me,” she added, trying to be patient, “but it would help since you know I’ve thrown my lot in with you. I’ve chosen to stand with you and it’s not an easy place for me. I wish you’d trust me. I wish you’d talk to me. I wish…”

“You wish?”

“You’d share some of those dark, scary secrets with me.”

“It’s not your burden, Jet. It’s mine.”

“But maybe it can be our burden. Maybe you share it with me so
I
can protect
you
.”

“And how would you do that?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but it does help even the odds a bit. Instead of it being five against one, it’s five against two.”

He kissed her, and again. “Sweet Jet,” he murmured. “Sincerity and light.”

She didn’t know what that meant, but she didn’t want to stop the kiss, or think too hard when she was starting to feel good again.

The kiss deepened until her breathing was ragged and her body hot and electric all over.

“You are, um, crazy good at that,” she said, drawing away to catch her breath.

“I like kissing you.”

“And I like that you like kissing me.” She exhaled, determined to clear her head. “So, where will we stay in Butte?”

“There are lots of hotels. It won’t be a problem. You see something you like, and we’ll stop there.”

“Do you think there is anything in the historic district?”

“There might be. I’m sure the Copper King mansion isn’t the only historic house that has been turned into a bed and breakfast. Why don’t you check it out on your phone while I drive?”

“Is Butte far?”

“Just twenty or thirty minutes now.”

“Okay.”

He reached up and swept her long hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “And once we know where we’re staying, you’ll call Harley and give her an update, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll tell her we’re staying in Butte, and you’ll let her know you have your own room—because you will—and give her my number, too, so she can reach me if she has a problem with any of this—”

She stiffened. “I’m not going to give her your number. I’ll tell her what’s what, but Harley is not my mom and, honestly, the less interference from the others, the better.”

His palms slid down her thighs to her knees, his grip firmed as he adjusted her on him. “You need to know this isn’t one-sided, Jet. I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. And I’m just trying to do what’s right and good for you. If I didn’t care so much for you I wouldn’t care what Harley thought, or the rest. But I don’t want you getting banged up. I can take it, but I can’t take heat on you.”

And then he kissed her again, a hard, demanding kiss that made her feel as if she’d never truly been kissed before. Body on fire, she leaned all the way against him, hips tilting, pelvis almost grinding, trying to find some relief from the ache within her.

“What are you doing to me?” she whispered against his mouth, body trembling.

He gripped her butt, holding her to him, increasing the pressure, and pleasure. “Showing you how much I want you.”

“And will you be over me, once you have me?”

“No. Because I’ll never have you. That’s not what this is. That’s a promise.” He kissed her gently, reassuringly and then tapped her butt. “But now let’s get to Butte before its dark so you can see something and then we’ll find a place to spend the night.”

I
t took each
minute of the twenty-five minute drive to Butte for her body to cool down and her emotions to shift back into some semblance of order. Jet still didn’t feel wildly in control, but at least she wasn’t whimpering and squirming around on Shane’s lap, either.

They’d been driving in silence but it was a calm, quiet mood, almost thoughtful. She was glad they’d worked through the tension earlier, even if it had taken a make-out session to settle things. She wasn’t good with conflict, and she hated fighting with him.

She glanced at him as he drove, the sweater pushed up high on his arm, revealing his forearm covered in intricate ink. The design on his forearm was just black and white, but she could see an area shaded orange close to his elbow. She couldn’t make out what the designs were.

“Tell me about your tattoos,” she said, reaching out to touch one of the black ink designs that looked almost like a wing from where she sat.

“What do you want to know?”

“How did you get them? Why? When? What are the designs…you know…everything.”

“My curious kitten,” he drawled.

“I am, so, tell me. How old were you when you got your first, or did you get them all done at once?”

“My sleeve? That’s come together over ten years. I get some new ink every year, usually on or around my birthday.”

“When is your birthday?”

“End of this month.”

She sat up straighter. “We’ll have to celebrate!”

He laughed and shook his head. “Not necessary.”

“Oh, but it is. I love birthdays. Let me plan something for you…please?”

“We’ll see.”

“Bad answer. You’re supposed to say yes, and mean it.”

He gave her an amused look but didn’t argue. “I got my first tattoo when I was eighteen. It was the bird here.” He tapped the design she’d been looking at.

And she’d been right. It was a wing. Jet leaned towards him to get a better look. “It’s a raven,” she said, skimming the beak, the eye, the tight wing. She looked up at him. “Like your raven story.”