Baby My Baby (A Ranching Family) (18 page)

Somewhere deep down, she’d known this night would end like this. Or at least hoped it would.

Her back arched toward Ash’s chest, and she let go of his thigh to wrap her arms around him, to pull herself up to him and feel the pressure of her breasts against that solid expanse.

But that was apparently not what he had in mind, for his hand left its caress of her face to slide down her neck to her shoulder, and on to her breast, outside of her clothes.

Much better, she had to admit as he began to work his magic there. Better still when he finally slipped inside to cup her bare skin and let her nipple grow taut in his palm. In fact, it felt so good, it took her breath away. She tore from their kiss and let her head drop back, inviting him to occupy his mouth in other pursuits.

He kissed his way down the column of her throat as he made quick work of the buttons of her dress, exposing her heated flesh to the night air and then to his seeking, moist mouth.

And even though she’d known that was where he was headed, the sensation was almost too glorious to bear.

Teasing, tormenting, sucking, circling her nipple with his tongue, even gently nipping and tugging with his teeth. Every stroke tightened a cord of pleasure inside her, a cord he strummed at just the right moments, with just the right touch.

She needed him to be closer, so much closer....

Suddenly their clothes seemed to be a barrier Ash couldn’t abide one moment more, either. He abandoned her to tear off his shirt, to fling his jeans away, and then to undress her in the same flurry of impatience. When he came back to her, it was to press his warm, taut, naked body to hers with a new urgency....

Urgency in his mouth on hers again, briefly, before it reclaimed her breast. Urgency in his hand exploring her belly for only a moment before he reached below and found the core of her yearning for him. Urgency in his long, hard shaft finding that same spot to slip inside her in what, by then, they were both straining for—that one perfect union, which would join them so completely that nothing that had ever separated them would matter.

Slowly, carefully, his thrusts spoke of his concern for her, for her condition, until Beth met and matched him and showed him how much more she wanted. How much more she needed.

His hands were in her hair, his mouth savored hers, until passion ignited into flames too consuming for anything but riding the storm.

And when it crested, her climax was so incredible she cried out as she never had, clinging to the solid wall of muscle that was Ash’s back, wrapping her legs around him to hold him buried deeply inside of her as wave after wave of the most intense pleasure lifted her higher and higher until she thought she might burst.

Then, just as the waves began to settle her back to earth, Ash’s whole body tensed above her, inside her, plunging in deeper still, forcefully, giving her not only more of the seed that had already sprouted in her womb but a second tremor of ecstasy to ripple through her until each thrust grew slower, calmer, and finally exhausted itself and them along with it.

Ash settled atop her. Keeping some of his weight on his arms braced on either side of her head, he looked down into her eyes again, holding them as surely as he held her.

And somewhere far out on the periphery of the pleasure he’d given her, the contentment she felt, she waited for him to complete it all by saying he loved her, the way he usually did at that moment. Not only because she craved hearing the words, but because if only he’d say it, she thought
she
might be able to, too.

But he didn’t.

And without it, she couldn’t.

Instead he slid his arms beneath her as his body slipped out of hers and he rolled to his back, holding her close to his side.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his breath a hot gust in her hair. “I didn’t mean to be so rough, but—”

“I’m fine. You’re never too rough,” she assured him quietly.

He cupped the back of her head and held it to his heart, cherishing her even without the words, and she felt each of his muscles relax in turn, the way they did when he was falling asleep.

But somehow, even as wonderful as their lovemaking had been, it seemed incomplete. It was the words that were missing, she knew.

She waited, but those words never came. And then she heard his breathing deepen and knew that hole would not be filled. Not by him. Because he really had gone to sleep.

The stars glittered in the sky above them. The water moved just beyond them in a soft ripple. The moon bathed them. The soft earth cradled them. And she had the odd sense that all of nature was waiting, even if he wasn’t.

“I love you, Ash,” she whispered so softly even she barely heard it.

And as she finally drifted toward sleep, she wondered if he’d always felt what she did at that moment laying bare her feelings and getting nothing in return.

Because it was a loneliness as painful as any she’d ever known.

S
ometime during the night Beth had rolled to her other side and Ash had apparently followed, because she woke to the feel of warm, early morning sunshine and him curved perfectly behind her.

That wasn’t what lured her from sleep, though. What did that was his hand, moving in a slow caress of her stomach. And the sense that she was being watched. Or studied, actually, from where he’d propped his head up on his hand to peer over at her.

And while the changes in her body were not enormous or unsightly, and had some positive aspects, she wasn’t comfortable having them all so openly assessed in broad daylight.

She reached for the edge of the blanket and pulled it around her as she turned to glance at him. “Looks like we camped out.”

“Looks like it,” he agreed, his smile mischievous, as if he knew how uneasy she felt and was enjoying her modesty. He didn’t do anything to stop her from covering herself, but he also didn’t stop his sensual exploration of her middle underneath the blanket. “I was enjoying myself, you know.”

“When?”

“Just now. Looking at you. There are some interesting things happening to you.”

She glanced further over her shoulder and downward at him, and even though she couldn’t really see anything, she said, “You look the same,” with enough impudence to hide her own discomfort.

“Is that bad?”

“No,” she admitted, unable to suppress an appreciative grin at just the thought.

Before she realized what he was doing, Ash flung the blanket away and pressed her to her back. “Your changes aren’t bad, either. In fact, I’d say they’re pretty terrific.”

She tried to retrieve the blanket again, but one long arm shot out across her, caught her wrist and held it captive while he sat up some, still braced on his elbow but with his head raised, the better to see her. He began a slow scrutiny that seemed to memorize every new curve.

“They’re all very sexy,” he said in a quiet, husky voice that relayed his admiration. “And this...” he went on, his gaze dropping to the evidence of his baby. “This is what we made together. I could look at it forever,” he said, finishing in awe, just before he bent over and placed a kiss above her navel.

Then he let go of her wrist and, in one lithe movement, sat up, swung a leg over her to straddle her, and cupped her stomach with one big hand on either side of it. “Incredible,” he whispered, exploring, kneading, learning every inch of that small, firm mound with his hands and eyes as if to convince himself it was real, that what was growing inside of it was real.

Embarrassment warred in Beth with the rekindling of desires she thought had been well sated just hours before. She reached his thighs with both hands, considering whether to push him away. But once she felt those solid, muscular legs, the decision made itself and she did some caressing of her own instead.

“We should get dressed before somebody happens out here,” she said, but it was a feeble suggestion that Ash didn’t even seem to hear.

Instead his eyes had returned to her breasts, and a devilish smile played on his lips as he raised his hands from her middle and filled them with her new voluptuousness. “Oh, yeah, this is
very
nice. And would you look at that—all I have to do is say hello and they perk right up for me.”

“You have no room to talk,” she countered, finding the advantage to the situation in her own view of his body in broad daylight. He was gloriously, magnificently naked, wearing only the arrowhead tied around his neck and a clear indication much lower down that he wanted her. Again.

She slid her hands to midthigh but let her eyes go farther up his body to that long, thick shaft; to his flat belly; to the widening V of his torso; to his broad, powerful shoulders; to his exquisitely masculine face.

And, heaven help her, she wanted him, too. Again.

She paused for a moment. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re not far from the house, where at this moment, my brother and any number of ranch hands are getting ready to go to work. Depending on the direction they take, that could mean they’ll pass right by here.”

“I guess we’ll have to hurry then,” he answered with a sly smile that said he wasn’t worried.

But then, neither was she. Not really. Not when he cradled her face and kissed her, setting aflame the passions that were so eager to be reignited it was as if they hadn’t been satisfied at all.

Neither Ash nor Beth moved with any haste. They made love slowly, as if they had all day there in the sun, relearning the sight of each other the way their hands had already relearned the feel.

Beth’s inhibitions about her body melted away. How could she stay self-conscious when Ash found such delight in it and in turn raised her own levels of pleasure to new heights?

He kissed her everywhere, following the path of his hands to trail every inch of her skin, awakening her nerve endings and bringing them all to the surface to sizzle to life. And along with the smooth, unbroken line of his exploration there was a playfulness, a teasing, a delicious torment that had her writhing in response.

In the light of day and their rediscovered familiarity, Beth gave as good as she got. He was a physically incredible man, and while it was easy to forget that in the cloak of darkness, now she feasted on it.

Her hands slid along the taut, burnished flesh of his shoulders, so wide her arms could hardly span them. She rode the bulge of his biceps with her flattened palms and kissed her way from one hard pectoral to the other while her hands rounded his narrow waist and slipped down to that derriere that caught her eye whenever his back was turned.

He was ticklish and she knew just the spot on his side to tease with her tongue to make him squirm, not minding at all when he got even with the flick of his own tongue in secret places that drove her wild.

And this time when passion grew too great to bear, she reached for him with both hands, reveling in the feel of that thick, hard shaft for a moment before guiding it home to fill the gaping emptiness as only he could.

She surrendered to the intensity of his thrusts then, letting him take her higher and higher, climbing until they reached their peak together, their breaths mingling, their bodies melded into one in an ecstasy so intense Beth could only cling to him, welcoming the full length of him so deeply inside of her that more than their bodies were joined—their spirits and hearts seemed to be, too.

But as much as she wanted it to go on forever, nothing that powerful could last, and finally they both crossed over the crest, slowly, slowly floating back to earth. To reality.

“I love you,” Ash said into her hair in a ragged voice.

Beth smiled, truly feeling replete now, as she hadn’t the night before. “I love you, too,” she whispered back.

Ash pushed up on his hands and stared down at her. “What did you say?”

He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. And it
wasn’t
easy for her. Especially not if she had to look at him and repeat it or discuss it. Why couldn’t he just let it lie?

“Beth?” he coaxed.

But she didn’t know if she could say it again. If she could let him scrutinize her emotions the same way he’d studied her body.

She swallowed with some difficulty and tried. “I said I love you, too,” she managed, though so softly it was a hushed whisper this time.

His supple mouth stretched into a leisurely smile that stretched into a full-fledged grin. “I’ll be damned. I didn’t think I’d ever hear that from you.”

Then they were even—sort of—because she’d been afraid she might not ever hear it from him again, either.

He laughed wryly. “It’s all the wrong way around, you know,” he said, slipping from her and rolling to his side to prop his head on his hand once more.

“What is?”

“Everything about us. We got married before we really knew each other, and only after we divorced are we having a baby and are you finally telling me you love me. We should have met, gotten to know each other,
shared our feelings,
married,
shared our feelings,
and had a baby. And maybe skipped the divorce altogether.”

His repetition of the sharing their feelings part nettled her as nothing in the soft earth under the blanket had. But she didn’t want to fight, so she ignored it. “We certainly seem to have jumbled everything up,” she agreed.

“Maybe it’s time we straighten them out,” he suggested in a quiet voice of his own, as if venturing into dangerous territory.

“Have you mastered the art of time travel to send us back to do it over?” she joked, for some reason feeling terribly vulnerable and pulling her side of the blanket over her again.

“I’m talking about making it right from here on,” Ash said.

An odd mixture of feelings bubbled inside her at that moment. She had a pretty good idea what he was leading up to, and a part of her hoped she was right.

But another part of her hoped she wasn’t.

With the blanket held tightly in place across her breasts, she sat up and looked at him, lying there in all his glory, staring past her out at the lake, as if he were gauging whether he really wanted to say what he was about to.

Then he turned his sharp-boned face up to her. “Maybe we should take a second stab at marriage.”

Was he unsure of the wisdom in it? Or how she might react to the suggestion? Or was it that he didn’t really want to? Because there was clearly uncertainty in his tone.

And that uncertainty fed the portion of her that had hoped a proposal was
not
what he’d been leading up to.

But she cared for this man and she was having his baby. And those two things kept her from doing or saying anything rash.

What they couldn’t keep her from was voicing her own doubts. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

He chuckled a little and sat up, raising one leg to brace an elbow on. “Well, at least that isn’t a no. Let’s talk about it.”

Beth couldn’t feel easy about either the idea of remarriage or the discussion of it. “I think we ought to get dressed first.”

“You’re stalling,” he said, doubts creeping into his voice. “Surely this is something you must have thought about.”

Not in a way that actually considered it. But she didn’t say that.

And before she could say anything at all, he went on. “What worries you most about the idea of our getting married again?”

“What worries
you
most?” she countered. “You didn’t exactly propose with gusto. And if the only reason you did was because you feel some sort of obligation—”

“I’ll meet my
obligations
to the baby whether we’re married or not,” he cut her off. “I’m not talking about some shotgun wedding here. I’m talking about our getting back together because we both want to.”

“All right then, what worries you most?” she repeated.

His frown was dark enough to let her know he was indeed worried, about more than whether or not she might reject his proposal. When he finally answered, it was as if he were choosing his words very carefully. “I can’t say I’m comfortable with the fact that we’d be going back into something we already failed at.”

She understood that well, because she had the same trepidation. But she could tell by the deepening of the lines between his bushy brows that there was more to it than his generalization. And that the details carried the most weight. “Go on,” she urged and challenged at once.

He shook his head dubiously. “I, uh, don’t know if you’ll ever really be able to open up to me, to let me know what I need to know—good and bad—before just up and bailing out altogether.”

He was being honest, and she knew she should be grateful for that. But what she wanted—deep down in that woman’s heart her father had taught her to hide away—was for him to sweep her off her feet the way he had when they’d met. To tell her he loved her too much to live without her, no matter what had gone wrong before. To swear there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that they could make it this time. That nothing would come between them. And she wanted him to do it all with so much conviction that even she would be convinced.

What she didn’t want was a complaint that felt as if he were blaming her for the failure of their marriage.

But that’s what she was getting.

Then, as if he read her mind, he reached over and took her free hand, rubbing the back of it in small circles with his thumb in a gesture that was soothing and sexy and sweetly romantic at the same time. “But we do love each other,” he went on. “And it wasn’t as if our marriage was horrible. There were a lot of good things about it. Good things between us. Good times.”

That was all true. She couldn’t dispute it.

“And there’s the baby now, too,” he added. “I’m not feeling I have some duty to marry you because you’re pregnant, but the baby’s a factor here. I want us to raise this child together. I don’t want to be alone in the joy of it and feeling bad that you aren’t there to see or experience something terrific. And I sure as hell don’t want to be wondering what’s happening that I’m not a part of. We’ve created a family, Beth, and I think that’s what we should be. It’s what I want us to be.”

She agreed with that, too. But still, that woman’s heart was tweaked. “If there wasn’t going to be a baby, though, you wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t even be thinking about our remarrying.”

“Don’t be too sure. I wasn’t happy about the divorce.”

“Oh, really? You seemed more than willing to me.”

“It was you who said you wanted it.”

“And you who said you’d been thinking the same thing. And then moved out of the house so fast you made my head spin.”

He was still holding her hand, but he wasn’t rubbing it anymore. “I thought that was what you wanted. Was divorce just a ploy? Are you telling me I called your bluff?”

“No, of course not.” But it might have hurt less if he’d hesitated even a little. If he hadn’t seemed so eager to be rid of her...

“Just don’t pretend that you didn’t want the divorce, too, when you made it very clear that you did.”

He took a deep breath and sighed it out. “I couldn’t have made it very clear that I wanted the divorce, because I
wasn’t
very clear that I did. I said I’d been
thinking
about it myself.”