Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) (22 page)

He opened his eyes like a man who is drunk. He pretended to hug and kiss his fantasy woman. “I love you, Jenny,” he said, imagining he was tenderly rubbing her back.

Jenny was stunned by his words, but she liked them. Not only had he given her the best imaginary fuck of her life, he had been tender after she milked him. Yes, he was a beast who had lusted for her, a man’s man who would kiss her between the legs and love every second of it, but he was also someone who thought of her in a romantic way.

He was the one.

As quietly as she could, Jenny slipped through the darkness about seventy-five back along the road. She leaned against a tree and replayed what she had seen. “I want to fuck you so bad I can taste it,” she said, turning her head toward the river house. She reached down and felt her panties. They were soaked, almost unbelievably wet. It crossed her mind that he might even smell her now, the scent of sex emanating off her pink panties.

* * * *

Ten minutes later she walked back toward the house, loudly scuffing her feet. She called out when she was about thirty yards away. Devon appeared from out of the darkness, wearing only a pair of white shorts.

“I was just getting changed,” he said, almost in a panic. “I didn’t expect you, Jennifer.”

“I didn’t expect to be here.”

He laughed nervously. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh?” she asked, seeming surprised. “What were you thinking?”

Devon was caught off guard by her question. “Oh, just about you in general,” he stammered, holding his hands in front of his waist, the outline of his hefty, satisfied prick quite visible. “Please, come in. You are welcome.”

“Thank you, Devon.” She followed him onto the porch. “Beautiful place you have here.”

He quickly threw on a shirt that hung all the way to his knees. “I just rent,” he said with a laugh, turning around to her with a sexy smile lighting up his handsome face. “But, tell me, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“Is it a pleasure?” she asked.

He was struck by the remark. “Excuse me.”

“Does my company give you pleasure?”

“Yes,” he said. “Very much so.”

“You said you were thinking about me before I came,” Jenny said.

“Yes,” he answered tentatively.

“Did that give you pleasure, Devon?” She raised her eyebrows. “Hmm?” Then she burst out laughing and touched his chest with the tips of her fingers, the long red nails ever so slightly pressing against his skin. “Isn’t that just like a woman? Always fishing for compliments!’

He laughed back. “You said it, not me.”

She suddenly looked at him with a no-nonsense expression. “Stop keeping me in suspense, you bad man. Did those thoughts of me give you pleasure?”

“Yes,” he said, his heart pounding. “Pleasure like I’ve never had before.”

“That’s good,” Jenny said casually. She laid a briefcase on the table. “Mr. Taylor left some documents and asked me to deliver them. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but he wants an answer as soon as possible.”

“No bother,” he assured her, still bewitched by her beauty and enigmatic manners. “Would you like a glass of lemonade?”

“I accept your offer,” she said cutely.

Jenny sat at an awkward angle to the table and didn’t know what to do with her eyes. Each time Devon turned his back to her, however, she looked at him. His presence seemed magnified, bigger than life. And here she was, alone with him. Alone together on an island. No one else would be coming. It was a strange, almost overwhelming feeling, but Jenny knew there was nowhere else she would rather be.

Devon poured two mugs of cold lemonade and dropped an ice cube into each one. He placed one in front of Jenny and sat down opposite her, then read the documents. As he studied the papers, Jenny looked around the room. On the wall hung a picture of two men in a wilderness area. One man, probably close to seventy years old, was a native dressed in traditional clothing. The other, smiling brilliantly and with his arm around the older man, was obviously Devon about ten years earlier. Jenny wanted to inquire about the picture but didn’t know how to ask.

When Devon finished reading, he dropped the papers onto the table and raised his eyes. “Thanks to you,” he told her, “the bank is going to give me an extension.”

“That’s wonderful, Devon,” Jenny said. “I probably shouldn’t have stepped in. It was none of my business.”

“If you hadn’t stepped in, I might not have a business.” Warmth emanated from his eyes. “Thank you.”

Jenny was taken aback and touched by Devon’s genuine appreciation. Because he was not a man to give compliments easily, his acknowledgment warmed her all the more.

“We should be outside,” Devon suggested, rising from the table. “It would be a shame to waste a beautiful night like this.”

“I think I should be going,” Jenny said, standing up and slowly moving toward the door. “By the way, Mr. Taylor asked you to call him at your earliest possible convenience.”

“Can you stay a little while longer?” Devon asked, looking intently at her. “I’ve never had a visitor here and I’ve forgotten how nice it is to have company.”

“Well, I—”

“At least come look at the view from the back veranda,” Devon persuaded. “It’s really quite special.”

Jenny glanced at her watch. “I guess I can stay a few more minutes.”

When they reached the veranda, Jenny sat on a swinging love seat. Devon, instead of sitting on the chair next to it, positioned himself right beside her. She was surprised by his bold move but said nothing as she gazed out over the water and sipped her drink. She refused to look at Devon, but she could feel his big, warm, manly body next to her as he gently swung the love seat back and forth.

From her vantage point she could see the spot where she had accidentally witnessed Devon emerging from the water. She wondered how nice it must have felt, on such a hot and sticky night, to feel the cooling water cascading over your nude body.

“A lot of people go skinny-dipping in the river,” Devon said with a playful tone in his voice. “Apparently it’s quite popular.”

“Really?” Jenny answered flatly, trying to conceal the fact that she had been thinking about that very subject.

“Yes.”

Jenny stood up, walked to the railing, and said jokingly, “If I didn’t know you better, Mr. North, I’d almost think you were inviting me to go swimming in the nude with you.”

“Obviously I would not suggest such a thing.”

“Obviously.” At that moment she had the tremendous urge to go swimming, to strip naked in front of him. She wanted to. She craved the feeling of being admired and she craved the sensation of causing man lust. She wanted him to look at her bare breasts, her bare ass, her pussy. She wanted to be shameless, uninhibited, and she wanted sex so bad it was driving her to distraction.

Jenny’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I went to the meeting of the historical society this evening and they had quite a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?”

She explained about the furniture in the library and how the architectural society had offered it.

“How much would it cost?” he asked cynically.

“Nothing.”

“What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t any.”

“No one has ever given me anything for free.”

“I gave you the sign,” she said, “and they’re giving you the furniture.”

“Are you sure there are no stipulations?”

“None,” Jenny informed him. “The ladies at the historical society like the work you’ve done and I suspect they’re doing this as much for you as for the historical aspect.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” Jenny insisted.

He thought for a moment. “All right. I accept.”

Spontaneously, Jenny touched Devon’s hand but then quickly drew away. They looked at each other and smiled.

“I was thinking you might do something to thank them,” Jenny proposed when he faced her again. “Once the furniture is all in, you could let the ladies stay at the inn one weekend for free. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to see all the furniture back in its rightful home.”

“Can you arrange it?”

“Sure. But all the furniture will have to be in place. You’ll have to do a lot of moving before I can set it up.”

“More moving than you think.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“In the letter from Mr. Taylor,” Devon said, “the bank is insisting that I decrease my expenses. They want me to be as frugal as possible and they want me to stop paying rent on this house.”

“They want you to leave?”

“That’s what they said. My money is apparently their money, at least in their minds.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I didn’t sign a lease here and I can leave anytime.” He smiled with a special glint in his eyes. “I’m going to make them happy and move to Newbridge soon.”

“Where will you go?”

“The inn, of course.”

“The inn?” Jenny said. “When exactly?”

“Very soon,” he said. “I’ll start bringing up my belongings maybe as soon as tomorrow.”

“How do you feel about leaving here?”

“The question is, how do you feel about it?”

“It’s got nothing to do with me,” she noted.

He looked at her and smiled.

A boat, outlined by lights, glided past them on Bear River. Music filled the air as people laughed and danced on the deck. It seemed like they were having a lot of fun, but Jenny, who had attended countless functions with Ivan, was bored with parties. Being here, alone with Devon, was infinitely more enjoyable. It was quiet, peaceful, intimate. She was acutely aware of herself, of all her senses, and of Devon, the man next to her in this dark solitude. Turning to say something to him, she felt a sharp stab in her back.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned after seeing her wince.

“It’s nothing.”

“Is your back bothering you?”

“A little,” she conceded. “I tweaked a muscle while gardening.”

“You’re in luck.”

“In luck?”

“I’m a skilled masseur.”

“Really?” Jenny said, not knowing if he was telling the truth.

“Oh, yes.”

“And what exactly could you do for me?”

He put his hands on her shoulders. She had not been touched since that disaster with Ivan, but Devon’s hands felt warm and soothing. She could not find it within herself to stop him. Devon slowly and methodically massaged her shoulders, the back of her neck, and her upper arms. Jenny felt like putty in his hands and her whole body relaxed.

A hint of music, wafting from the boat, floated on the air. Jenny closed her eyes and listened to it, but she was so drawn into the touching of her body to his that she could think about nothing but the man who was caressing her. Devon was strong, stronger than any man she had dated in her life. Yet his touch was soft, softer than any man she had ever imagined in her dreams. He rubbed her gently, tenderly. Somehow his hands massaged the depths of her aching and tired muscles, right to the very core of her being. She drifted into intoxicated abandonment. She had always been private and during her whole relationship with Ivan she had only let him touch her the once, when she was so horny she needed sex as badly as a desert needs rain, but still it hadn’t gone anywhere. It was never right. But that was then, this was now.

Suddenly Devon’s lips were touching her ear, his warm breath flowing over her sensitive skin. Then she could feel the heat of his mouth on her neck. She swallowed hard, pulled away from him, and looked into his eyes. She wanted to tell him to stop, fearing she would lose all control, but she couldn’t. The words refused to come.

He leaned forward, his handsome face moving toward her. She decided to push him away, but her arms were made of lead and she could not raise them. He stopped and allowed her a split second to withdraw. She didn’t. She couldn’t. Then his mouth was on hers and she felt the searing heat of the man’s kiss, a kiss that communicated strength, passion, desire. She accepted it, kissing him back and frantically rubbing her mouth over his. They kissed with fire, and their lips went numb in an impassioned union where thought was banished. Jenny clung hard to Devon, pressing her soft, feminine body to his firm, muscular form.

“Please let me taste you,” he pleaded, a light panting in his voice.

She looked him in the eye. “Taste me?”

He nodded. “Please,” he begged. “The hunger is killing me.”

For several seconds Jenny felt like she was on the edge of a precipice. Either she drew back and continued the same sheltered life, or she went down a new, unknown road and opened herself to this man’s raging desire. “Do you like doing that?”

“I love it.”

Jenny paused and electricity surged between them. “Where do you want to do it?” she said in a half whisper, as if afraid of being overheard.

“For real?” he asked, his eyes flashing with fire. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Let me pick the room,” she said breathlessly, hurrying away as if not even waiting for Devon.

He was behind her in a second, trailing with a smoky look in his eyes.

Jenny walked into the kitchen, then into the living room. It was large and quaint, and even had a fireplace. She walked into a small porch. It was almost totally made out of windows, but probably to prevent the western sun from shining in, all the drapes were closed. There was a divan made of oak, with beautiful red velvet upholstery. Two chairs flanked either end of the room and against the river side of the wall was a long, wide couch with a blanket on it. Jenny immediately realized that Devon had been lying there earlier, probably in the nude.

“We’ll do it here,” she said in a businesslike way, turning to him with a nervous, but eager, look. She waited for him to give her some direction of what he wanted her to do. “Do you want me to pull down my panties?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“Can I do it?” he asked.

Jenny smiled beautifully. “Yes.” She slowly lifted her dress, exposing her smooth, soft legs, and then revealed herself all the way up to her belly button. It gave her a tremendous thrill and she looked away, fearing her heart might stop at any moment. Then she looked at him. “Do you like?”