Secret Desire (11 page)

“Hah. That’s how little you know. In estate sales, even the household cleaners are sold. People are scavengers and will buy anything if they think it’s a good deal. How do you think I make my money? Put on a price tag and hang a sale sign and buyers will come. But that’s your choice. I’ll have an estate consultant come in and determine what everything’s worth. Afterward, we can decide if you think it’s worth selling or if you want to buy out my share.”

“You’re going to sell me things like the plates, glasses, and rugs? Should I clean out the refrigerator or should the condiments be included in the estate?”

“Don’t be crass. Yes, please clean out the refrigerator and whatever perishables are around. Otherwise, we’ll have to spring for a pest control company to come out. Mom never would have allowed her home to be dirty. Why start now?”

She didn’t want to continue bickering with Fran. Her sister would just keep going to get the last word. She’d already planned on cleaning out the kitchen, and nothing needed to change on that front.

“Call me and let me know when to expect you.”

“I’ll have my assistant make arrangements and let you know. Probably just email the itinerary, if that’s fine with you.”

“Yes. I’ll look for it. There’s another appointment at the attorney’s office day after tomorrow. We need to sign some legal documents for the probate court. It takes about sixty days to hear back and then another thirty days or so for the estate to be finalized, taxes paid, and the money disbursed. Shall I let Bob know you’re coming?”

“Bob Chase, Sr. or Jr.?” Fran had softened her voice.

“Bob Jr.” Claire closed her eyes. Dustin was right. Fran had dated around. She’d been less than interested in her sister’s activities during high school. They’d hung out with separate crowds and didn’t go to the same parties. Dustin hadn’t been part of either group but sometimes hung out with her friends. Then she couldn’t recall seeing him in any group. He became a loner of sorts, hanging out with some guys who raced motocross. Well, she certainly knew now what Fran had done to make him drop out of sight. They’d both been trapped. Well, not anymore.

Chapter Seven

Claire hung up and walked out the front door. She approached the gate between her house and Dustin’s property and lifted the latch. The white wooden boards had been recently painted and the gate swung back on some kind of spring. Stepping stones and pavers formed a walk between Dustin’s home and the barn. The siding on Dustin’s house no longer dipped and splintered. He was right about fixing up the house. Raised, landscaped beds of shrubs and flowering plants were mulched and landscape lighting had been installed. New shutters were up. The back porch opened up to a tiled patio equipped with a new gas grill and wrought iron furniture.

Dustin’s dog ambled up next to her and whined. She scratched his head. He ran off and came back with a red ball. She threw the ball, and he raced off after the airborne toy.

Claire approached the barn and heard pounding. She stepped inside and gasped. Dustin was bent over his bike engine. He stood up and Claire bit her lip, seeing him without a shirt. Sweat poured over his chest and down his abdomen. His jeans hung off his hips. She’d been right. He had a flat stomach with a mega six-pack. He turned around. His back and shoulders were an amazing set of grooved muscles at work. He twisted, his muscles contracted, and she had to remind herself to stop staring.

Dustin set down his wrench on the workbench. He wiped his hands on a rag, still unaware that she’d entered.

She carefully walked along the dirt floor. The barn smelled of hay mixed with fuel, reminding her of being inside here with Dustin long ago. The silver motocross bike was held up by a metal stand. A space where something had been removed was leaking gasoline into a small container.

“What are you working on?”

He turned toward her. A smile overtook his face and her breath was lost, much like next question. His body was a work of art. He could have been a cover model for any story she’d ever written or imagined.

“The carburetor is busted. I’ll rebuild it but need to get some parts.” He gazed back at her while holding the grease-covered rag. “It’s really a mess in here right now. I’ve been busy with the house and haven’t had a chance to rebuild these motorcycles properly.”

“How many do you have?”

“Two tore apart. Down to the frame. I was able to use the parts to rebuild the Honda. But I hit a hole today, damaged the carburetor. Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted.” He threw the rag onto the bench.

“I didn’t go inside the house. I didn’t need to after all.”

“Able to take care of business over the phone?”

“Sort of. A mess of sorts. I guess sometimes when mistakes are made they can help open a person to being aware of things…that things happen.”

“If you’re talking about compassion, then I agree.”

“I’m trying to say, I understand about the past and mistakes.”

He remained silent, so she stepped closer. He stood on one side of the motorcycle and she on the other.

Claire wound her fingers around the handlebar grips, remembering she’d ridden on the back of his motorcycle plenty of times.

“This is a great-looking bike.” He nodded, his lips pressing tightly together. She side-glanced him, his face, and then lower.

He picked up some contraption. “I’m trying to see if this part can be salvaged.”

He wiped off the grease and held up the part, squinting with one eye closed. She languidly observed him and his body. He was a mass of sharp, muscled angles. There were swirls of dark hair matted against his chest. Fine wisps of hair trailed over his stomach in a line to his navel. She quickly flicked her gaze back to safer ground. A silver necklace with a pendant hung down from his neck. It was the same medallion he’d worn in high school.

The air stilled inside the barn with only the barest of breezes stirring the level where they stood. Movement above caught her attention. She looked up at the rafters. Sparrows came and went from nests. The second story windows were open allowing light to enter. She recalled climbing the ladder to the hayloft and lying down with Dustin. They’d talked about their dreams. Their future. She glanced at him, and the truth dawned on her. She didn’t want to lose him again.

“What are you doing for dinner?” He was washing his hands in the sink by the back door. She marveled at the foam on his forearms and imagined standing naked with him covered in bubbles and how it would feel to run her hands over his slippery skin.

“No real plans.”

“Would you like to go out or I can try out my new grill?”

“Let’s go out. I’d like to see the town. If that’s all right with you?”

“Perfect. Around six? We can eat and then drive around while it’s still light.”

“Yes. I’ll leave you to your work. See you later.” She wanted to trace the shadows along his collarbone.

She glanced up surprised to see a pained expression on his face. Would he try to kiss her as he’d done earlier? Or would he think she was too much of a bother?

Rarely had she gone out of her way to get fixed up for date. But tonight she wanted him to find her attractive. She still had to clean out the kitchen, and then she’d see what she could do with what little clothes she’d brought.

He walked her to the door. “Shall I escort you back?”

His dog greeted them outside.

“No, but thank you. I didn’t want to disturb you. What’s your dog’s name?”

“Jasper.”

“I’ll walk the yard with him. He likes to fetch.”

“I see you’ve met. Yes. Jasper loves to retrieve anything that’s thrown.” He picked up a tennis ball and heaved it a short distance.

His whole body tensed, muscles bunched at his shoulders and arms. He was built, strong enough to do whatever he wanted, take whatever he wished. She gulped, remembering the fantasy she’d indulged in earlier. Her body responded at once. A whirring as if some motor that had been wound up let loose.

He turned and stopped dead in his tracks. Did she suddenly have a sign that relayed her inner thoughts or was her face painted so deep a crimson, anyone could guess? She looked down, shy under the heat of his stare. She could sense him coming closer. Her heart leapt into a runaway pace unable to stop.

“Claire.” He said her name and made it sound like the opening verse to a prayer inside the barn.

She looked up and held his intense gaze, biting the side of her cheek. She took a step toward him. He welcomed her closer, his eyes intense. Then he placed his hands on her arms. No need for the first word. She touched him, caressed rock hard muscle that she’d felt before. She still had time to rethink.

No, this was true. This was the moment she’d created in countless stories. This wasn’t going to be a chance she’d regret not pursuing later.

Dustin was the man she wanted…had always wanted.

She leaned into him and watched his eyes darken. She smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and twined her fingers in his hair. She pulled his head down until their mouths touched. Warm and tender at first, and then his arms moved around her shoulders, crushing her body to his. He took over and took command, and she opened to his desire. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue caressing her lips, and she tentatively swiped her tongue against his. He moaned, his desire giving her courage, and she pressed her mouth harder against his. She nipped his lip and sucked lightly on his tongue. She held onto the belt of his pants and wasn’t afraid to grind into the hardness that fully met her.

“Oh, Dustin.” She groaned, wanting to fulfill her fantasy. He moved her as if they were dancing, leading her firmly back, deeper into the barn. They didn’t stop until she felt the wall of barn against her back.

They locked their mouths and hungrily explored one another with their tongues. He reached down and lifted the hem of her dress. He trailed his finger up her thigh. Streams of yearning ran wild through her body. For once she didn’t press her legs together. She spread them wantonly, rubbing her calf against his leg. The feel of his clothes on her bare skin was intoxicating. Her pulse raced, fulfillment so near, and if it wasn’t she’d burst apart on the next heartbeat. He placed his fingers at the edge of the panties she wore. She couldn’t remember if she was wearing cotton whites or the black ones she’d packed. Her body became chief decision maker, shifting ever so slightly until he grazed his finger over the spot that made her gasp in pleasure.

“Jesus, you’re so soft. Baby, I want you.”

She placed her hands on top of his. She wanted him to touch her all over. She whimpered against his lips. His mouth recaptured hers, devouring this time, and she opened, giving him more access. The taste of him was divine. The feel of his fingers between her legs aroused every nerve ending. She was afraid to open her eyes, afraid this would be another one of her fantasies.

His mouth and hands sent her spiraling.

He moaned her name as if releasing a pent up ache. “Claire.”

She ran her hands over his hard torso. She could taste the exquisite need in his kiss. Claire rubbed and squeezed his waist, grazing her fingers over his jeans, down to his zipper, and tracing the outline of his erection. A snarl escaped his lips. He gently bit the corner of her lips and reclaimed her mouth, plunging his tongue deeper until she was soaring.

He continued searching with his tongue and hands. He touched and rubbed her, flesh upon flesh. He held her firmly, his arm around her waist. She shuddered, digging her fingers into his pockets, tugging him closer as he pushed her to the brink.

He slipped his finger into her, and she responded, an electrical jolt of pleasure so fierce her muscles clamped down and pulsed.

“I’m so close.” She wanted to scream his name and plucked at his pants, unable to remember how a belt functioned for a second or two.

“My God, you’re on fire.” He kissed her again.

“I can’t hold on. Please.” Her skin burned while between her legs, she grew wetter with each stroke. There was no way back to yesterday. Only this moment and the next and the next.

“I’ve got you.” He growled and found her clit, swirling his finger up and over and around until she cried out. He plunged his finger into her again, giving her exactly what she desired.

The pleasure was immediate and shocking, her orgasm hitting hard and quick. She didn’t expect to be thrown up and over a wall, into a place that was boundless as the sea. He set her free. She clung to him, aware that his arm was around her waist. He kissed her temple and cheek. He slid his mouth down her neck. She was perspiring. She bowed her head onto his shoulder and felt the long rigid length of him against her. He was more than erect, yet he’d not taken his pleasure.

“Claire, baby.” His ragged voice, heavy with desire, sang a song to her spirit. She hugged him and kissed his lips, salty from her sweat.

Claire rested her head on his arm and met the eyes of his dog, tail wagging, and the red ball in his mouth. She laughed. “We’ve got a company.”

Without letting go of her, he swung his head over hers, brushing his lips over her forehead. “He’s probably wondering what in tarnation is going on.”

“Do you wonder?”

“No. I’m overjoyed. I don’t want to push you. I can’t say it enough. I know these days must be a difficult time in your life, having to cope with this all on your own.”

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad we’re together. This isn’t some frantic escape from grief. We’ve known each other too long for that. You’ve been my friend for so long, only you could understand what I’m feeling.”

“I want to be more than a friend.”

“You are.”

He kissed her again. A hot and lazy embrace placing a hold on her, totally commanding her to join him, and she followed. He wrapped his hands in her hair and kissed her as if there were no end in sight. Her legs wobbled and she clung to him. He finished with a trail of sweet kisses along her jaw.

“Still on for dinner?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Murray.” They separated, and she immediately missed the feel of him against her.

He looked over to Jasper and raised his brow. “Give it here.”