When Bruce Met Cyn (24 page)

She hummed out a disagreement, then clasped his thighs so he couldn't escape her.

Bruce pressed his back hard against the wall, needing the support. He locked his knees, cradled her head in his hands—and came like a wild man. It was so powerful that he could barely stay upright. His hips jerked, his entire body shuddered, and his shout was loud and raw with emotion, edgy with lust.

When Cyn released him, he slowly sank down until he was sitting, his head back, his limbs loose and his heart still racing. Cyn turned, put the stopper in the tub, and switched the shower so that the tub began to fill.

On her knees, she faced Bruce. And waited.

He got his eyes opened, saw the uncertainty in her gaze, and opened his arms to her. “Come here, you.”

She scuttled up against his chest and Bruce stretched out his legs, holding her to his pounding heart while the water level rose.

After that, after what she'd done and what he'd enjoyed more than any man had a right to, he decided anything was fair game. They soaked while he regained his breath. But when he was ready again, he took his turn bathing her, then rinsed and dried them both and carried her back to bed.

It was a night meant for sexual exploration and excesses in the extreme. Bruce felt tireless, mostly because Cyn was an open, generous lover. She took, but she also gave, and she enjoyed anything that brought Bruce enjoyment. They skipped dinner, and until four in the morning, they skipped sleep.

But exhaustion finally won out, and when Bruce rolled to his back, he heard the soft, metered breathing of deep sleep. He looked at Cyn, at the wild tangle of her midnight hair and the even rise and fall of her breasts, and contentment settled on him, lulling him to sleep as well.

He turned on his side, pulled her up against him, and dozed off with the knowledge that she was his, now and always. Nothing and no one, especially Palmer Oaks, would change that.

He wouldn't let it change.

Cyn woke to an empty bed, and it panicked her. Before she could even get her eyes open, she'd been reaching for Bruce—but he wasn't there. She bolted upright, her gaze searching the empty room.

Then her memory kicked in, and she sank back against her pillows with a pained frown. Last night had been…not what Bruce was expecting.

Heck, it hadn't even been what she'd planned. She wanted him to stop holding back, sure, but wow, had he gone overboard.

Bruce on the loose was something, all right. Wicked and naturally sensual. Exciting and inexhaustible. Provocative and daring. His stamina amazed her. Of course, he'd been celibate a long time, so maybe that contributed to last night's marathon. She wouldn't be dumb enough to make any more of it than that.

She'd forced the issue, sabotaging him in the shower, taking advantage of him when he was naked and unable to run off. Cyn grinned, because she knew Bruce would never run away from her. He might take control of the situation, but he wouldn't flee. He was a most remarkable preacher, and an equally remarkable man.

Sure, she'd gotten things started, but Bruce had certainly joined in after that, and the night had been
incredible.

Here she'd thought she knew everything about sex. Ha! She knew the moves necessary to finish the deed. But she hadn't known about all the moves in between, all the touching and kissing and whispered words that made it so much more special. With Bruce, the moves didn't matter. He could have stood her on her head and she'd have loved it because it wasn't what she did, but rather that she did it with Bruce.

She sat up and shoved her hair out of her face, considering what to do next. Bright sunlight streamed in through the windows. It was late morning, or maybe even early afternoon, so no wonder Bruce wasn't still in bed with her.

God, let that be the only reason.

Please don't let it be that she'd repulsed him with her sexuality, that she'd encouraged him to do things he now regretted.

Bruce was a man of religion, and she'd debauched him—and gotten debauched—quite thoroughly. It wasn't what he was used to, and maybe, even though he'd succumbed, it wasn't what he wanted. Had he hoped for a meek little wife who'd be content to have sex in the dark, beneath the covers? He
had
kept the lights off before yesterday.

But damn it, he'd married an ex-hooker. Preacher or not, he knew what he was getting into, and she wouldn't apologize for wanting him.

Slipping naked from the bed, Cyn was amazed at how unsteady she felt. Like a drunk with a hangover. She almost laughed. Even as a lady of the night, she hadn't spent so many hours in the sack.

She stretched her lethargic body awake, then found one of Bruce's T-shirts to slip on over her head. Filled with uncertainty and a twinge of belligerence, she went in search of her husband.

The house was small, so he wasn't hard to locate. She didn't call out, just peeked in each room until she finally found him in the back of the house, where the glass block wall was now complete. He wore only unfastened jeans and held a steaming cup of coffee while staring off into space, at nothing in particular that Cyn could tell.

His back was broad, and as he sipped his coffee, muscles flexed and moved, making her heartbeat accelerate.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn't heard her enter the room. For a while, Cyn soaked in the sight of him, her heart full and her eyes burning. Sunlight flooded the room and played around his big body, gilding his skin and making his fair hair appear lighter.

“Bruce.”

He looked over his shoulder, his smile soft and…loving. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

He didn't look or sound disgusted with her. Just the opposite. Cyn cautiously brightened. “Morning.”

That was it. Nothing more. Bruce simply stared at her, not at her body, but at her face. She fidgeted and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I slept like a log. You should've woke me.”

His unrelenting gaze warmed and his smile lifted. “I liked the idea that I wore you out.”

Oh boy, the way he said that, like a typical macho guy reveling in his bedroom skills, which maybe he was. “Yeah, well. That you did.” Feeling brazen, she stepped forward and covered his hand with her own to bring the coffee cup to her lips. “Mmm. Good.”

“Want me to get you a cup?”

She tucked in her chin, looking at him with sultry insinuation. “I'll just share yours.”

“Okay.”

Damn it, he could be so enigmatic when he chose. “So. What are you doing in here all by yourself?”

“Thinking.”

“About what?”

He gave a casual shrug, while she stayed on pins and needles.

“The room is nearly complete.” He peered around the empty space with that secretive, serene smile. “Another week or so and it'll all be done. Soon we'll be able to have services here instead of the bank's meeting room.”

“That's all you were thinking?”

He handed her the cup for another drink. “No. I was also thinking that we need to get your driver's license. You'd like that, wouldn't you? I don't want you to be dependent on me, or anyone else, for a ride. There'll be times when we'll need two cars, so once you pass the test, we'll get something. Probably used. Maybe a truck.” He crossed his arms and went back to perusing the glass block. “I could use a truck.”

Cyn thought about throwing the steaming mug at his head. “Anything else on your mind?”

“Yes.” He glanced at her. “I was saying my morning prayers.”

And she'd intruded. Well, hell. Having a preacher for a husband would take some getting used to. She should probably start learning what she could about him. “You say your prayers in here?”

“Here, the kitchen, the backyard. God doesn't care where.” Bruce took the mug and sat it on a worktable. “He just likes to hear from me.”

Bruce made them sound like old pals, and given Bruce's vocation, she supposed he might feel that way. “Does He now?”

“As much as I like hearing from Him.” Bruce looped his arms around her waist and bent to kiss the tip of her nose.

“And so you were in here, chatting with God?”

Bruce stared at her face, studying her features in minute detail. His voice dropped to a soft, velvety whisper. “I wanted to thank Him for my many blessings.”

The burning of her eyes increased. She would not cry like some ninny just because Bruce was happy. He was a devout and wonderful person who always looked to the bright side. Knowing that prompted her to say, “You're such a good man, Bruce.”

“I'm a fortunate man, in many, many ways.” He made a grand gesture toward the glass blocks. “It's a beautiful, sunny day, and my very own church is almost complete.”

“It is shaping up. Everyone will like it.”

His thumb moved to her bottom lip with a teasing, gentle touch. “Good friends surround me, and I enjoy good health.”

“All things you deserve.”

He smiled. “And I've been given the greatest gift of all.”

“What's that?”

He laughed, tweaked her chin. “You.”

“Me?”

He slowly nodded. “God's given me a lot. But best of all, He's given me you.” He took her mouth in a long, toe-curling, stomach-tightening kiss, and in a husky rumble: “I'll be thanking Him every day for the rest of my life.”

When the kiss ended, Cyn dropped her forehead to his chest. “Last night. You didn't think I was too…” No proper word came to her so she temporized with, “maybe…
raunchy?”

Bruce squeezed her tight enough to make her squeak. “You were open and loving. Just what I wanted and needed and I reveled in every minute of it.”

“We had the lights on the whole time.”

“Mmmm. The sight of you inspires me.” His nose rubbed against her hair, inhaling her scent. “We're married. There's no reason to hide in the dark.”

“You turned the lights off every other—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “You tempt me, Cyn, more than you realize. If I'd seen you any of those other times, I wouldn't have been able to hold back.”

So he hadn't wanted to hold back—but he had anyway? “You didn't want to go all the way because we weren't married?”

“In part.” He took her arm and together they went to the kitchen. “Even being careful, consummation runs the risk of pregnancy, and to me, that's not something that should be chanced out of matrimony. Also, it's the ultimate physical joining, something that should be very special.”

“It
was
special.”

Satisfaction darkening his eyes, he nodded.

“Actually, for the most part, I was being an idiot. I wanted to treat you like a
lady
so you wouldn't get confused about how I feel. I wanted you to know that I respect you, and that your needs and wishes come first.”

Incredulous, Cyn said, “Holding out on me was your way of being kind?” She laughed. “God help me if you ever set out to make me suffer.”

Wearing an unrepentant grin, Bruce said, “Hey, I suffered, too. I've never wanted anything or anyone as much as I want you. Always. Every time I even think of you.”

“Yeah? That's nice to know.”

Bruce chastised her with a look. “Don't be so smug, young lady. After last night, I realized my whole plan was stupid. You're smart enough to know the difference between being used and being desired, regardless of what we do, or don't do, in bed.”

“Yeah, I am.” But she hadn't been smart enough to understand his motives until now.

Bruce glanced at his watch. “About one o'clock, we'll go get your temps and you can practice driving.”

“Why wait till one?” That was at least a few hours away.

Bruce caught her around the hips, lifted her, and threw her over his shoulder. With Cyn laughing, he started up the steps. “Because right now, I want you. Again.” His hand landed on her bare bottom. “Like I said, you're smart—smart enough to know you can't prance around in one of my shirts without turning me on.”

Cyn's laughter changed to a groan as Bruce's clever fingers began to stroke her thighs. He was so strong that he bounded up the steps without effort. He dropped her on the mattress and shucked off his jeans.

Sunbeams shone like beacons on the bedding, and Cyn, without shyness or reserve, sat up to remove the shirt and toss it to the floor. She shook her hair back.

His eyes on her belly, Bruce paused beside the bed. “I changed my mind.”

He was hard, so Cyn knew he hadn't changed his mind about joining her in the bed. “About what?”

“We'll make it two o'clock.” And then he came over her, holding her face and kissing her with passion, but also with love.

And Cyn said her own quick prayer—that it wouldn't end. Ever.

 

Her prayers seemed to be answered when nearly two whole weeks passed in a blissful fog. There was no sight of Palmer, and Cyn hoped for the best. Did Palmer know that she'd married? Had he given up on getting his revenge and left North Carolina for good? If Palmer stayed well out of her life, she could be the happiest woman alive.

But no one was willing to take the chance that he was still hanging around. Between Joe and Bryan, their home was secured with alarms and security cameras. The cameras were small enough that the townspeople didn't even notice them. It wouldn't do to scare people away from the church.

Cyn felt cautiously safe, especially when nothing more happened. And even though she was never left alone, she was so happy she couldn't contain herself. There had never before been a time in her life when everything seemed to go right.

Between loving and laughing, she'd kept her job with Mary and got to visit with the horses twice a day. Bruce always accompanied her, but he seemed to enjoy the animals as much as she did, and Mary was thrilled that Cyn was able to keep her job.

When they weren't doing that, she and Bruce worked hard on the church to finish it in time for Sunday services. Bruce was extra busy with last-minute details, but he took time every evening to help her practice driving. She now felt confident and comfortable behind the wheel, enough to take the test scheduled for tomorrow. Bruce was a patient teacher, but then, she was a cautious driver, so she hadn't given him too many gray hairs.

He'd surprised her a week ago with the addition of a large bookcase in the TV room. It took up one entire wall and Bruce had already put her books there. But he'd gone one step further and also added many other books. The shelves were nearly filled with cookbooks, books on gardening and home decorating, novels of mystery, romance and history. It was like owning her own library, and more than anything else material, it made Cyn feel as if she'd finally found a true home.

With a cookbook opened on the counter, she scraped potatoes over the sink in preparation of a roast dinner with all the trimmings. Bruce came in behind her, kissed the back of her neck, and gave her a hug.

Cyn turned to face him, caught sight of the envelope on top of the stack, and tried to grab it.

All she managed to do was make Bruce drop the mail. Giving her an odd look, he stooped to pick it up, and there it was, right in plain sight.

Bruce picked up the padded envelope. “Adult college classes?”

It took a lot to make Cyn blush, and that did it. She dried her hands on a dishtowel and snatched the envelope out of Bruce's hand. “It's nothing. I was just checking to see what colleges were within driving distance for me.”

As Bruce stood again, his too-astute gaze never left Cyn's face. She was learning that when it came to her, very little passed Bruce's notice. “You'd like to go to college?”

More heat rushed to her face. Damn it, she felt foolish, even though she knew Bruce would understand. “I need to get my GED first. But yeah, I think I'd like that.” And then in a rush, she added, “I don't want to go full-time or anything. But maybe start with a few classes.” And finally she admitted, “I just want to be better educated.”