The Protea Boys (16 page)

“You’ll have to stay too.” She patted the side of the bed. “You can’t drive home now; it’s too late, and the road might be closed.”

“I’ll stay, don’t worry. I’m not leaving you here on your own. Not until the fire threat is over. I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Georgie reached up, slipped her arms around his neck, and drew his face down until it was so close to hers the chips of amethyst glittered in her eyes.

***

In Tom’s intense stare, the conflicting emotions flickered and travelled across his eyes. She waited and said nothing. She had had enough issuing instructions to last her a lifetime. Finally he took control. Kissing her, holding her tight, cradling her face in his hands. When his tongue explored her mouth, she could do no more than groan in pleasure. He slid his hands down her neck, across her shoulders, her taut nipples rising toward him when he grazed her T-shirt. Then he paused to stroke in circular movements with the pads of his thumbs. Coils of anticipation whirled through the empty spaces of her mind, and she gave herself up to him.

“Are you going to take these clothes off, or am I going to do it for you?” Tom’s question hung in the air while she ran her shaking palms down his back, his muscles flexing and bunching under his T-shirt. Craving the touch of his skin, she slid her hands beneath his shirt and snaked her palms back up along the smooth skin to his shoulders. His groan filled her ears, and he bent his head and kissed her again, his tongue darting around her mouth, wooing her and coaxing her. Coaxing her body into a molten mass of trembling desire.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” His murmured words vibrated against her lips. “You need to sleep.”

“It’s what I want.” Her words played against his lips.

“Absolutely positive?”

“Absolutely positive.” Didn’t he know it was all she had fantasized about since the first moment she had seen him? It was as though the crash and firestorm had purged her of her inhibitions. All she wanted was here with him. She trailed kisses along the length of his neck.

He lifted himself on one arm, the intensity of his leopard gaze almost burning her before he pushed up and sat astride her. His muscled legs cradled her thighs, and he lifted her T-shirt and pulled it slowly over her head. Then he dropped it to the floor.

A low noise erupted from the depths of his throat, and he paused and cupped both her lace-covered breasts in his hands with a look of stunned awe.

“Now if I had known what was hiding under your disgusting T-shirts, I would have taken them off weeks ago.” He teased her taut nipples with his fingertips until they jutted against the pale pink lace. The provocative pleasure of his husky voice and his hooded gaze sent pulses of desires throbbing through her, making her pelvis tilt in anticipation. Tom slipped his hand beneath the lacy cup of her bra and molded her bare breast while he stroked down her ribs with his other hand until he reached the top of her cargos, and then he glided his fingers under her waistband.

“And is there a matching piece here?”

Georgie closed her eyes, nodding. The anticipation building within her spiraled and her body arched to him.

“Slowly, slowly,” he murmured as he flicked the button and painstakingly ran the zip down, revealing the triangle of pink lace barely covering her. Then he sat back on his heels and stared at her. Her skin tingled, and a flush of heat swept up her body. He pulled her cargos down over her bare feet and tossed them onto the floor.

Georgie’s heart pounded so quickly and so hard she was certain Tom could hear it, but he crossed his arms over his chest and drew his T-shirt over his head. Her mouth dried as she watched the play of his muscles, and unable to control herself, she ran her fingers down the ripples of his abdomen to the line of dark hair disappearing below his belt. Her fingers hovered near the buckle, and then she ran the tip of one finger along the line of his belt.

“In a minute.” His voice dropped to a throaty whisper. “I want to look at you.”

“Tom,” she gasped, impatient for his touch. And he slowly slid his fingers under the pink lace, teasing and tempting, before he drew her pants down her legs and tossed them away and knelt beside her. He leaned forward to run his tongue languorously down her belly. Farther and farther until she clamped her teeth together to stifle the scream of eagerness when he gently explored the damp curls between her thighs with his tongue.

Georgie’s breath quickened, and in invitation to his licking tongue, she parted her legs, panting with desire as she circled her hips against him. Lifting his head, he smiled lazily up at her and reached for her nipple, which peaked agonizingly toward his touch. With his other hand, he stroked her rhythmically, and then he eased his fingers slowly inside her, sending a tremor shooting through her body.

She writhed against him, kicking with pleasure as he delved deeper and ran his tongue down her stomach, igniting uncontrollable tremors of lust. She fastened her fingers into his hair, pushing his head to her body until the tension coiling in the pit of her stomach and the pulsing sensations became more than she could endure.

“Stop, Tom. Stop,” she mumbled, and he lifted his head, leaving only the cool air to fan her peaking desire.

She looked up at him, her hands resting against his tight stomach, her heart thundering, and he gave an imperceptible nod of his head, and she pulled him closer to unfasten the buckle of his belt. The button popped, and she slid down his zipper, her gaze riveted on his face. His groan came from deep in his throat, and she thrilled at the sound. Tom pulled away and stood over her, then dropped his jeans on the floor.

The hard, naked planes and angles of his sculpted body and the thick evidence of his arousal were silhouetted in the dim light. Everything she had imagined from the very first moment she had seen him.

Tom swung over her back onto the bed, her pulse ricocheted, blood pounding in her ears, and she braced herself for his welcome weight, and he lowered his face to hers and kissed her long and deep and tender. The contradictory touch of his hard length and his gentle kiss sent her body once more into a rhythmic rise and fall, begging him to appease the heat scorching through her.

“I want you. I want all of you.” Her demand filled the room, and he knelt back, running his tongue over his lips.

“Still positive?” He bent to kiss her and slipped two fingers back into her, delving the searing moisture of her, and then withdrew, tantalizing her, sending her spiraling out of control.

“Even more positive,” she gasped throatily, her frustration building to a crescendo.

“One minute.”

Georgie groaned, her frustration mounting as he reached to the ground for his jeans and pulled a foil packet from his pocket.

“We need this.”

“Are you always so well prepared?” She smothered a laugh and stared, fascinated, while he ripped the foil with his teeth and rolled it over his length, and then she sighed in relief when he returned to her, his raw, hot need etched on his beautiful face.

Grabbing his shoulders, she moved under him, straining in her impatience and brushing provocatively against him until she could wait no longer, and she dragged his hard body down between her aching thighs.

“Slow down, darling, slow down.”

“I can’t. I’ve dreamed about it too many times. Make it real.” Her whispered words dampened the skin on his neck, and he nudged her moist, inflamed entrance. Impatient with her need, she pushed down onto him, her muscles tensing and relaxing until he filled her.

Chapter Twenty-
Three

Every nerve ending shrieked as he thrust deeper. Her muscles contracted around him, and she drew him into her. The sharp peaks of her nipples rasped against his chest, and her breath came in hot, damp gasps against his neck. A deep, sharp stab of lust seared through him, her muffled cries intensifying his passion. Her fingers scored his back and slid to his buttocks, enticing him deeper into her, and then she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, and he plunged farther, unable to control the frantic rhythm of his body. Their lips met, and he swallowed her cries, until their bodies shuddered and peaked together, sealing the well of loneliness deep inside him.

Sated, he lay in the total calmness, his face pressed to her shoulder, her tangled locks caressing his face until she stirred below him, and he rolled aside, relieving her of his weight.

Her eyes flickered open instantly, questioning. He forced his ragged breathing to still, and her indolent smile wrapped around him. Tom pulled her into the cradle of his arms, relaxing, knowing she was safe.

He trailed a finger down her cheekbone, the tracks of her earlier tears still visible, and brushed her tangled hair away from her face.

“Why the long face? Did I disappoint you?” The freckles on her nose danced as she wrinkled it, highlighting the smug grin on her face.

Had she disappointed him? No. No way. But he had disappointed himself.

“You went through a lot today, Georgie. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of your susceptibility.”

“Tom. You’re making me sound like a nineteenth-century virgin. You didn’t take advantage of me. In case you didn’t notice, I wanted it as much, if not more, than you did.” Her giggle punctuated her words, but he couldn’t shake his concern. “It was wonderful, Tom, and please don’t imagine I can’t look after myself, because I can. You don’t have to take responsibility for me,” she said, drawing lazy patterns on his chest with her fingers.

“I need you to be safe. You’re too precious. I want you to have everything you deserve. What we shared tonight was beautiful, but I can’t expect you to shoulder my problems. I’m not what you need.”

“You’re everything I need.” Her muffled words warmed his chest, and she yawned against him as she snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm. Her pulled her tightly against him, and her eyes fluttered shut as the gray-brown dawn started to light the sky.

For a long time, he lay quiet and still, relishing the role of protector, guarding her as she slept. To know she was safe and content was all he wanted, but what had happened between them was a mistake. It couldn’t happen again. He had no right, none at all. An image of them sleeping like this every night sprang into his mind, and he pushed it back. No way. It couldn’t happen. What Georgie needed was a nice, gentle guy, happy to give her everything she deserved in the world, not some broken-down, irresponsible hack who couldn’t even take care of his little sister.

It was better for her to believe he wasn’t interested in her, didn’t want her, than for him to stay and slack off and not live up to her expectations and cause her harm. Now he’d really mucked everything up. He should never have taken the job in the first place, never become involved in the farm, and never, never made love to her. They were supposed to have a friendship and nothing more. That’s what they had agreed.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he eased himself off the bed and looked down at her sleeping so peacefully. With infinite care, he covered her with the rumpled duvet. He slipped silently into his jeans and T-shirt, his nose wrinkling at the stale odor of sweat and fire, and left her to sleep. He needed to get out of her way, and out of her life. His hands opened and closed as he looked down at her sleeping face, a huge part of him just wanting to crawl back into bed with her and nuzzle her awake, but his sense of responsibility won. It was better to leave and leave while he still had control.

Tom moved silently as a cat out of the door and onto the veranda. Head down, hands thrust deep in his pockets, he crossed the paddock back to his Ute and drove away, trying to ignore the very real pain slicing his chest.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Georgie fought the sunlight blasting against her face, wiped her hand across her hot and sticky skin, and opened her eyes. She threw back the duvet and stared at her scratched and aching, stark-naked body...and then the memories came flooding back. Every detail flashing through her mind in brilliant clarity, from her tumultuous fall off the ridge top to the look on Tom’s face before she fell asleep. She stretched and smiled, ignoring the burning in her muscles and the throbbing bruises, knowing at least this time she hadn’t fallen victim to another of her mad dreams. This time it had been real. They’d made love, not under the swaying acacia trees, but right here in her bed. A warm swirl kicked her stomach; they’d certainly unpacked his baggage and a whole lot more. She giggled and rolled over onto her stomach, wriggling languorously. In fact, she wouldn’t mind repeating the process—just to make sure they hadn’t left any baggage behind, of course.

The giggle caught in her throat, and she rolled back and stretched out, her arm patting the other side of the bed, but she found only the tangled duvet and bunched pillows. Sitting up, she pushed back her hair, stretched again, and swung her feet carefully off the side of the bed.

“Tom.” She cleared her throat, still raspy and uncomfortably dry from the smoke and passion of last night. “Tom?”

The silence hummed, and a flicker of foreboding washed over her. Surely he hadn’t left? She scrambled up and pulled a towel from the en suite, wrapping it around like a sarong as she checked the shower. “Tom?”

She stuck her head out of the open door and looked up and down the corridor, but the silence of the house answered her question. Padding through to the kitchen, she looked out onto the veranda. The sofa was as she remembered from last night, the imprint of their bodies still visible in the soft cushions and the quilt draped carelessly over the arm. Hurrying to the window, she squinted toward the shadows next to the shed. No sign of his car, just the truck and the empty space where the quad bike used to sit.

He’d left. Left without waking her. Left without saying good-bye. She lifted her hand to her chest and rubbed the uncomfortable lump caught there. He wouldn’t. Not after last night, not after they’d made love.

Georgie stopped dead. Had they made love, or had she just thrown herself at him and he’d grasped what she’d offered? Color flooded her face. She must have been out of her mind or suffering from shock to have given in to temptation. What was the matter with her? In those blinding moments of passion, she had forgotten the lesson she was supposed to have learned from Dale. Trust no one. Just like before, she had let down her guard, and all she had left was her empty bed and her foolishness.