Untouched: 2 (Rough Boys) (3 page)

Suddenly it occurred to him that Eva’s husband Bill had died and not left her provided for. She was probably left with a stack of bills and a mortgage, with only her low salary to survive on. No wonder she was careful with money, whether it was his, Dorsey Forestry’s or hers.

A growl rose in his throat. He had to get her away from Amber Pratt as quickly as possible.

“No, we won’t be at Mindy’s party, Amber. Eva and I are attending a party for an old friend tonight.” There. That made it sound as if they were going together.

Why weren’t they?

Amber’s face fell. “Okay. Well, it’s good to see you both. I hope we can catch up over New Year’s! Byeeee!” She toddled off on her treacherous heels, swinging her ass as if she were taking out attackers on either side.

Eva groaned louder as the woman retreated. “Agh. I hated that woman in high school. The last thing I’d do is go to a party with her. Thank you for getting rid of her.”

He stared down at Eva, their mouths inches away. Closer than he’d ever been to her. Could he resist this pull she had on him?
You have to. Suck it up, buddy. Go home and jack off.

His balls clenched up tight against his body in response to that thought. He put one hand on the shopping cart and one on her elbow, steering both toward the checkout. He had to get her home to make those hors d’oeuvres and give her time to get ready for tonight.

Really, he had to get her out of his sight before he did something he regretted later.

* * * * *

Eva dumped the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and caught her four-year-old son Brady as he hurtled across the space into her arms. She lifted him easily and clutched him tight, kissing his round cheek.

He squirmed. “You’re cold, Mommy!”

“I was out in the snow, pal. Of course I’m cold.” She kissed him again and then set him down. He shot off toward the living room and his favorite toys.

Eva turned to smile at the babysitter. “Thanks for agreeing to come back tonight, Abby. Brady sounded excited on the phone that you’d tuck him into bed.”

She nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll just get going now and see you soon. But Eva—”

Eva’s throat constricted. Fuck, she was going to ask for her pay, and there was no way Eva could swing it until the following week. She racked her brain, mentally searching her coat pockets and underwear drawer for loose bills to settle with her babysitter and friend.

The dreaded words fell from Abby’s lips. “I know you’re strapped for cash, but could I please get paid? I have bills due.”

What was she going to do? Panic wove through her. This was the third time she’d fallen behind in paying the caregiver. Abby wasn’t about to stand for that for very long. Soon she’d take her services elsewhere, leaving Eva in the lurch.

“Uh…yeah. Just let me get my checkbook.” With fear a wild animal in the cage of her chest, Eva crossed the kitchen to the shabby desk that held her checkbook. She sank into the chair, doing the mental math as fast as possible.

There was no overlooking the fact that the balance of her checking account was $6.23. She owed Abby for three weeks, which amounted to $300. A bargain for child care, but out of Eva’s budget.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked rapidly to dispel them. This was no time to panic. She had to find a way to make ends meet.

Hatred for her deceased husband rose in her anew. He’d done this to her—pinned her down and made it impossible for her to live. And he hadn’t even had the consideration to die properly by having a life insurance policy.

She sniffed and backhanded one that escaped. She had no choice but to write the check to Abby, then rush to the bank and pull the funds from the Dorsey Forestry account she’d just put in last week. They were technically her funds anyway. She just wouldn’t contribute as much this pay period. She’d do better with her money management next time.

She uncapped a pen with her teeth and hastily scribbled the check. Standing, she handed it to Abby, who was waiting nearby. “I’m sorry you had to wait for it. Thanks again for all your hard work and the care you provide Brady.”

“No problem, Eva. See you in a few hours.”

As Abby left, Eva eyed the clock. She had about an hour of work on those polenta and chicken tartlets. But she had to get to the bank before that check went through and bounced.

“Damn.” She grabbed her purse and rushed to get Brady ready. He protested loudly at having to abandon his play to run errands, but she promised him a lollipop from the bank.

Bundling him into the car, her mind jumped ahead to her next task. Get the money from the Dorsey Forestry account, deposit it and then run home and bake. She was pushing it for time, and likely wouldn’t have a moment to do more than freshen up before running back out to meet Mason at the party.

Meet Mason.

Her body tingled with renewed life and her worries fell away for a bit. She actually found herself humming as she made the transaction at the bank. Since she didn’t always stop at this small-town branch, no one questioned why she was exchanging funds between her account and the business account. This was one of the things that caused her the most guilt—every time she made a transfer, she changed how she did it.

One time she’d drive to a bank in the next county. Sometimes she made online balance transfers. And sometimes she actually used the ATM to deposit or withdraw. It made her feel more like a criminal than ever.

But for now, she had a party to think about. With a happy, sticky-faced boy in the backseat, she tried to dream up an outfit to wear.

Mason couldn’t stop throwing glances at the window, waiting to see Eva’s familiar used compact car pull into the driveway at Osborn’s house. The party was in full swing but she still hadn’t showed. More than one person asked him where she was, and he replied that she’d be there.

She’d better be.

He paced before the front windows overlooking the icy world. He hated the thought of her on these dangerous winter roads in that bean-can of a car. She should at least have four-wheel drive and some thicker steel to protect her from an accident.

“Hey, Dorsey, what are you going to do without Osborn? You hiring?”

He turned to talk to the man who addressed him. He vaguely remembered the man’s name, though they all knew each other in this part of the country. They’d grown up together, and living in a small town meant everyone knew everyone else’s business.

“We’ll have to see how business is in the spring. We’re slowing a bit now that it’s the holidays.” Mason hitched a thumb in the pocket of his jeans and cast another look at the windows. No sign of Eva.

“Well, keep me in mind,” the man said. “I’ve been out of work at the mill for a couple months and jobs are hard to come by.”

Mason nodded. “Will do.”

Suddenly, headlights scoured the front of the house. Mason shot to the window, making out the shape of Eva’s little car. Relief flooded him. He spun and shoved past the throng of some forty people in Osborn’s small house to reach the door.

He whipped it open and found Eva standing there, flustered, pink-faced…and sexy as hell in a leopard-print skirt. Damn, where had she found that? Was it
the
infamous leopard-print skirt from high school?

She graced him with an uneasy smile and extended the tray of what smelled tantalizingly like polenta and chicken tartlets toward him. “Hi, Mason.”

He fielded the tray and ushered her inside. A cheer rose up at her entrance and she blushed violently, splotches of red climbing her face and settling in hectic patterns on her cheeks. His heart lurched at the sight.

She was engulfed by people asking her questions, taking her coat. And yes, it
was
the leopard skirt Mason remembered so well from their youth. She’d once worn it to a school dance and he’d spent a miserable night with a hard-on the size of the Allegheny River. He’d run home after that dance and jerked off to visions of ruching that skirt over her hips and burying himself inside her.

Now was no different. In fact, it was worse. His lust swelled to gigantic proportions. Hell, he might have to hide in the bathroom and relieve himself. It would take all of two minutes.

He followed her with his gaze, listening to her talk. She had time for everyone. Hugging, laughing, asking after wives and children.

“How is Brady?” Osborn’s wife asked.

Eva’s face lit up like a store window at Christmas. “He’s just fine. Thank you for asking.”

A pang stabbed Mason’s chest.
Brady?

Someone took the tartlet tray from him and he hurried to Eva’s side. One of his logger crew from Team Elm stopped him to talk business and he was caught up for a torturous ten minutes.

All the while Eva was passed from one person to the next. A bucker who felled logs for Team Elm grabbed her up and hugged her. He let his hands linger too long on her spine, dipping low over her lower back.

Mason caught the growl in his throat before he released it. Was that man seriously going to feel her up here in the middle of the party?

Quickly he stepped in. Starting up a conversation with the bucker meant that the single guy wasn’t able to continue holding Eva. She stepped away from him, but not before Mason caught the sparkle of electricity in her dark, espresso eyes.

He had to get her alone.

Five minutes of talk later, Mason ran her to earth in the crowded kitchen. There she was hand-feeding the man of honor a polenta and chicken tartlet. It was almost comical to see the dainty hors d’oeuvre disappear into the giant logger’s mouth. But his smile said it all.

Osborn smacked his lips and grinned at Eva. “That in itself was worth retiring for!”

She beamed.

Osborn wrapped her in a bear hug. She was lifted off her dainty high heels. The motion drew Mason’s attention to the swell of her buttocks in that sexy skirt and down to the shapely curve of each calf. Her legs were bare, he noticed for the first time. In this weather?

She was set on her feet, laughing and flushing again. That was it. Mason had to make a move.

He lashed his fingers around her elbow. She jerked, shock crossing her stunning features. Before she could react more, he towed her through the crowd. In the entryway he rummaged through a pile of coats until he found theirs. Then he bundled her into it and out into the night.

The frigid air seared his lungs. He finally drew a deep breath. Getting her out of there had been one of the smartest things he’d done in his life.

“Mason, where are we going? Is something wrong?”

He stopped on the gravel driveway and spun to face her. Taking her hands, he stared down into her eyes.

She searched his face. “What—?”

He dropped his mouth by degrees. “Eva, I’ve been dying to do this all day.” In one swift motion, he claimed her sweet lips.

The first contact of Mason’s mouth nearly rendered her unconscious. Dizziness washed over her, followed by desire stronger than anything she’d ever known. His mouth was hard and demanding and he exerted the perfect pressure on her back, lifting her onto tiptoe against him.

Her pussy squeezed and juices flooded her panties. He plundered her mouth for a moment before she remembered what to do.

Sliding her arms around his neck, she angled her head and met his kisses. The scrape of his five-o’clock shadow sent a spike of need to her sex. Her head filled with the musky scent of male, leather and wool, and also the underlying tang of freshly cut wood.

A moan bubbled to her lips. He glided the tip of his tongue over the seam and she opened to him automatically.

With a rumble, he took instant advantage, sweeping the cavern of her mouth. She was brought against the full length of his body, clamped to him, dizzy for air but unwilling to fight for it. The first velvety flip of his tongue ignited a fire in her and she spun out of control.

He cradled her face in his big hand and pressed on her chin with his thumb, urging her to open farther for him. He plunged his tongue deep, filling her head with his essence. The flavors of beer and mint made her hungry for more.

She twisted her fingers in the hair on his nape, drawing him down to her again and again. Her nipples were hard pebbles, aching for the touch of his rough fingers and his hot mouth. Her inner thighs were soaked with need.

And his cock was unmistakably steely against her belly. She fought the wanton urge to rock against it, to learn its length.

He drew back and stared at her for a full heartbeat. The wind had died down and the moon kissed the top of his head, highlighting the snowflakes on his dark hair. She ran her fingers over them and the cold melted on her skin.

A shudder racked through him. “Eva, I can’t apologize for that. In fact, I’m going to do it again.” He swooped in and captured her lips, feeding her his passion in nipping bites. She swirled her tongue over his, learning the textures and flavors of his tongue, teeth and lips.

She explored his shoulders and the outline of his chest. Beneath the thick coat he wore a simple button-up shirt that strained across his muscles. Too easily she recalled the way he looked shirtless. Several times in the summer she’d arrived at a jobsite to find him bare-chested in the heat, coated with sweat and sawdust and looking sexy as hell.