You Called Me-ARE and Apple epub (15 page)

“Mr. Blakemore has given you one hour. Our friendship is not a part of that, young man.”

Kids scattered and Kenya gave up, held her head up and like clockwork, the two girls plus four others stood with smirks on their flushed faces. They weren’t naïve, could see Jonathan wanted to pin her to a tree or a bed.

Judge beside them, Jonathan led her deeper into the woods he needed time alone with Kenya. Leaving Fiona in Benjamin’s care he could feel his cousin’s sullen stare. She’d voiced her dislike for Kenya. He was done with her whining. Time came to focus on the woman on his arm.

Leading Kenya over downed trees and over frozen bramble, Jonathan found a small grove of trees. Out of view of everyone, Ms. Claiborne had him tied in knots. No woman’s ever stripped him of his calm the way she did.

Dropping her hand, he stepped back until his back met the tree and waited. Watching her close the space between them, inches from his face, it still lacked the touch his body craved. The woman became his addiction of choice and he needed a fix, bad. Since he had no idea why she affected him in this manner, he held his thoughts and emotions close to the vest, and only gave her his actions.

Jonathan rocked them side to side shuffling his feet to widen his stance through the six inches of snow. He adjusted their height drawing Kenya even tighter in by her waist. Nudging her thighs apart till she sat comfortable over his leg. Heat from her body penetrated the layer of his jeans. An electric charge shot up through his groin making him jerk painfully behind the zipper of his pants lodged against her stomach.

“If you're cold, slide your hands under my coat over my sweater. It's warm under there,” Kenya offered, but he had another place in mind. He'd had on gloves but had to remove them to work his hands into the curve of her jeans back pockets. The gentle swell a perfect fit to his hands. Kenya raised soft glittering brown eyes up to him, “Better?”

“You have no idea,” he confessed honestly. “Are you having a good time out here...with the kids?” he asked rubbing his chin over her knit cap, eyeing the snow fluttering down from the branch above them behind each bump of their body's along the tree.

“It's beautiful up here, Jonathan, and the kids aren't so bad. They’re actually a joy to be around,” Kenya said, nodding to the ground. “But I'm not so certain about Judge, is he okay, I mean his paws and the snow? Should he be inside?”

He leaned in cupping her chin, brought her mouth up to his brushed a soft kiss across her lips, slow and tender, needing to taste her kindness. Kenya parted her lips and he slid his tongue in deepening what started out as a taste to a feeding. His hunger spiked and he fought not to close a hand over her breast beneath the coat, to mold his hand over her warm flesh. Her quiet moans brought him up, foreheads still together. He swallowed the delicious taste of her mouth closing her tighter against his body. “I'll take Judge in if it concerns you, but he'll let me know if he's ready to go.”

“You're starting to win back those points you lost in the elevator when we first met, Blakemore. One point at a time,” she teased.

“Good to know, Claiborne.” He chuckled and it startled him as it only came out around Kenya. “Now that I know your weakness...” he acknowledged then stopped talking at her hands on his coat.

Kenya unzipped his jacket pushing her hands beneath his sweater and cuddled against him through the material, her fingers over his heart where her face rested warm and soft. “Sometimes I'm shy, other times I'm not...now I'm not.”

Air crossed his face coming in off the open field, where the others played on the ice under the fog lights strung through the trees. Had he ever paid attention to the shadows it cast over the pond before Kenya came into his world? Probably not, business had been his only focus, and this woman slowly crept up and snagged his attention in a matter of weeks.

He glanced at his watch and their stolen moment had less than twenty minutes left.    

He couldn't get enough of this woman. Up until now, she’d fought him and he understood her boundaries and her need to set them. He'd made demands on her free time, her space, and now he'd designated himself the man in her life. He wouldn't apologize for taking what he wanted only for presuming she wanted him. He knew he'd stepped out of line being demanding and challenged her independence by taking away her choices by consuming her time from the moment they met. But Kenya triggered something in him and until he knew what, she belonged to him.

“I have to go to Ireland for a week,” he started, molding her to his body, massaging her waist. “I want to see you when I come back.”

She scoffed. “You’re accustomed to people following direction, no questions asked, aren’t you?”

He frowned. Bracing her shoulders, he held her away from his chest and saw it there in her face. She hadn't fully comprehended the extent of what his life consisted of.  

He dropped his hands, shoving them into his pockets, then started, “No, Kenya. Questions mean you’re listening,” he took a breather casted a glance off to the kids playing on the ice in the distance. Stepping from in front of her, he grabbed her hand and led her farther down the trail still in view of the kids. He needed to walk. Every couple of steps he'd look at her beside him waiting intently for his response.

He sucked in the cool air and blew it out on his words, “People do what I say because I take the hit, stepping into places others won’t.” Indicating the kids on the ice, he continued, “I’m the wall between these kids and a life of a missed childhood because their parents couldn't get their shit together long enough to see the pain these kids are going through.” Jonathan lifted a broken branch under the snow with the toe of his boot launching it through the trees behind a swift kick.

Kenya grabbed his hand and he found himself being ushered through the downed bramble behind a large tree until his back met the hard bark. Snow dusted from the branches, coating over them as Kenya’s body molded to his in a manic rush.

Kenya’s kiss burned away his frustration for the kids trapped in the system. A system geared toward the parents and not the kids being tossed from parent to parent.

He swore under his breath, locking his arm over her back, her fire blowing his composure apart with each lick of her tongue. He kissed deeper. Plunging his tongue between her lips, sweeping the sweet honey of her mouth, Jonathan cupped the nape of her neck, tilting her face he swallowed her groans as if they quenched his thirst. She gave when he needed it, and right then he needed all of it. Flexing his fingers into her behind through the tough jeans, he held her to his groin. Let her feel the length of him straining to have her, to carry her to his cabin, and push into her for the rest of the night until neither had strength to blink. Lifting her feet off the ground, he angled her around until the thump of her body hitting the tree jolted through his chest.

Swallowing her moans, he swelled tighter against her body. Fisting a hand around her neck, he deepened the kiss until he bumped her teeth with his trying to taste every inch of her mouth.

The sound of Judge barking brought his head up, eyes searching the wide expanse through the trees. He couldn’t make out if shadows were shadows, or a person walking toward them as the snow had begun. It covered their tracks as they'd stumbled around between the trees. Maybe one of the kids was out there looking for them. Releasing his grip, he let Kenya slide down the front of his body, to stand on the uneven ground littered by broken branches unseen beneath the snow. The flash of two boys throwing snowballs at one another running between the trees and he relaxed.

“Watch your step.”

She nodded, stepping carefully, poking mounds of leaves under the snow with the toe of her shoe while adjusting her clothes. He'd shoved her coat up her back trying to touch her skin when she had her legs wrapped around his waist. He grinned at her tilted cap. Reaching out a hand, he straightened it and tugged on her soft braids hanging over her shoulders. She had his heart thudding, pulse pounding in his ears and his vision slightly blurred, but his body purred for another taste.

He removed his gloves to caress the creamy skin along her jaw. “You're a pretty woman, Kenya.”

She blushed, lifting the metal tab on his coat, zipping it up to his throat. Those soft brown eyes sparkled under the falling snow. “I needed heat and you're a furnace, Blakemore,” she said snow falling on her nose melting, running down her flushed skin. “It's snowing harder...we need to get back, although,” she said, turning over her wrist eyeing her watch, “we have about ten minutes until the kids start heading back to the main cabin.”

He touched her nose. “Share my cabin…tonight,” he managed to say between his erratic heartbeat and imagination. “I know you're not afraid to be alone with me, Kenya.”

“Yeah, Jonathan, I am.” She gave him a look that said something fragile sat waiting to shatter beneath her tough outer shell and it had nothing to do with him. “It's too soon and I have little restraint around you when your hands are all over me.”

Something moved out in the woods. On instinct he caught Kenya to his chest searched the expanse for any animals. Judged barked. Hearing his cousin calling his name over the raging of his blood pounding in his body he tightened his hold on Kenya as she tried to break free.

“Jonathan,” Fiona yelled through the forest, something most people didn't do when in the mountains.

He dropped his stare to Kenya. “Stand where you are,” he said, slipping both hands back into her back pocket, keeping her snug to his groin.

“Jonathan,” Fiona called a second time and came around the bramble of downed trees. “I—” her eyes locked on their body’s pressed together, his hands in Kenya’s pockets.

“Unless one of the kids is hurt, Fiona, wait until we come back…we’re busy.”

“You’re dragging this family’s heritage straight to an early grave. Why have me stay at the castle when you’re destroying it from across the ocean?”

As he slid his hands under Kenya's jacket closing them over her warm body, Jonathan reclined along the tree. Fiona’s footsteps grew further apart as she stormed off into the clearing, joining the others at the main cabin house. The bright light a beacon glowing out through the wooded forest assured him she would not get lost. Inhaling the cold air, he blew out his irritation lowering his face to the woman in his arms for comfort.

“Maybe you should go after her, she's your family,” she soothed, stroking a hand down his arm beneath the thick coat. “Don’t worry about me I understand you need to handle this…honest.”

“She knows not to direct me,” he said, bringing one of her hands up to his mouth. He held it against his lips, enjoying the calming affect she held over him. He wouldn't have enough time to enjoy as he could hear the kids beginning to congregate at the mouth of the trees. He continued about Fiona, “She's taken on a Blakemore trait I'd hoped never to witness in our women—boastful. Talking to her right now is pointless, as she'll only hear herself until you agree to what she's saying.” He pushed them away from the tree. They found the trail covered in fresh snow and followed it as best as possible back to the cabins. 

“Does it even matter that I'm not looking to be anyone's wife right now? My focus is career and the promotion.” She squeezed his hand. “Perhaps you should make that clear to her and you two can stop all this bickering,” Kenya said taking her hand back shoving them in her coat pockets. He had to change his pace to keep up with her angry steps. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, grasping her arm, both stumbling on the slick trail. He caught her around the waist held her steady and placed a knuckle beneath her chin. Dipping down he set his face before hers. “Look at me, Kenya.” Anger twisted his stomach in a knot, burning at the sight of unshed tears pooled ready to spill down her face behind the wrong words. Her chin quivered on his knuckle. She fought back whatever tore her up inside. 

Kenya said, “Jonathan, Benjamin, can handle the next two days if you need to attend to your family. No one will fault you and, if ever a group of people understood family matter, it’s this one. They've all had their hearts crushed or disappointed. Just do whatever you need to do for your family's welfare, Jonathan.”

Watching pain move under the still face she held, he said, “Family's that important to you, Claiborne?”

“Family is everything,” she said, turning her face away. “It’s the core of who you are, what you’re made of. For some it’s a haven…”

But not her, not her family, and that piece of information squeezed his heart. This gentle woman had to have come from a loving family, yet her tone said she hid pain behind her warm eyes. It wrenched his heart. He’d protect his woman from anymore hurt.

His phone buzzed in his jeans pocket. Leaning away, retrieving his cell he eyed the number, and answered it holding Kenya to his chest. “Blakemore...Monday morning in my office, I want this over. He still wants to invest then have him sign the waiver and end his contract. My family name is attached to his company when he goes public with this...Send a notice to his office. Tell them it’s a conflict of interests. Displacing hundreds of families with unaffordable condominiums is not good investing. Have all the paperwork on my desk and send copies to all the associates and shareholders. He’s no longer a client.” He'd tired of greedy clients.

“That was intense,” Kenya said.

“I grew up in the inner city. Overpriced condominiums will become eyesores in a few years. Unattainable for most families,” he observed and his baroque had thickened behind each word. 

She held her face up, light snow sprinkling between them. “Passionate things bring out your accent. Who are you, Jonathan Blakemore?”

“Better question, who are you,
Mo Ru’n
?”

“What did you just say?”

“My dear,” he revealed seductively closing his mouth over hers. Raising his head, he asked, “If it's not Benjamin or Randall, then who’s my competition, Kenya?”

“Depends. What are you looking to win?”