Suspended (19 page)

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Authors: Taryn Elliott

Tags: #Erotic Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Suspended
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“Oh, Delinda, it’s beautiful. I can’t believe you did all
this in a basement room.”

“We have a lot of help with the church.”

Kendall faced Delinda. “Well, we appreciate it more than you
know. A bed is all I want.”

Delinda’s smile softened. “The front is locked up, and our
house is just through the back door of the kitchen and across the yard if you
need anything.”

Shane came up behind Kendall and laid his hand on her
shoulder. “No, just the bed and shower.”

“I’ll leave you to it. Breakfast is at eight.”

“Thanks,” Kendall said and held out both her hands, gripping
Delinda’s. She gripped back, and Kendall released her. After a final good-bye
she turned the lock and leaned against the door. “This is gorgeous.”

He trailed his hand over the end of the sleigh bed. “This
bed is old and done by a master carpenter.”

“Good, because I plan on sleeping like a queen on it. After
a shower.”

“You go ahead.”

“Yeah?” She smiled up at him. “I have no shame. I’ll take it
first.” She grabbed her bag and dashed into the bathroom and closed the door
behind her.

Part of him wanted to follow her and see how big the shower
was. But knowing basement plumbing as he did, he preferred to wait out his
disappointment. And the sharp need to touch her, to feel water on her skin, to
lose himself inside her again was too acute.

It was too much with the word
marriage
dangling over his head. Even if it was a lie. When he was
around Kendall, nothing felt light or casual. He shook off those thoughts. He
didn’t want to think about forever, not when everything was so in flux.

 

STEAM FOLLOWED KENDALL out of the bathroom. She’d cranked
the heat until her skin was pink, but her muscles were loose, and her back had
stopped screaming for the moment. Endless hours in the truck were taking their
toll. She flipped the towel off her hair and froze.

Shane had stripped down to his jeans. Dirt streaked his neck
and arms, but his back was a perfect smooth, tanned expanse of skin. Muscles
bunched in his shoulders and rippled over his back as he dug into his bag. He
turned to her, and the sardonic lift to his brow crumbled all the layers of
resolve she’d built in the shower.

She craved his touch. They were in a church basement, and
she still wanted to curl herself around him and feel him pulse inside her. The
devil had to be sitting on her shoulder. She glanced at the bed with the slats
for a headboard and the pristine white sheets. It should make her feel chaste.

But all she could think about was gripping those slats until
they bit into her palms as he slammed into her. Over her, filling her until she
was screaming his name. Until nothing mattered but how they fit.

“Christ, Kendall.”

She winced. Exactly. “I’m sorry.” He crossed the room,
standing before her with his chest a fraction of an inch away from the knot of
her towel. She looked up at him. “You better take a shower. I’ll try to be
asleep before you get out.”

“You think that will make this easier?”

She closed her eyes. “Maybe.” He didn’t say a word, but she
felt him move away and missed his warmth and the endless buzz that surrounded
her when he was in her space. The
click
of the door behind her freed her to move into the room. She quickly slathered
on her lotion to combat the lack of moisture in the desert. She’d grabbed
clothes for the next day but nothing to sleep in.

“Great.”

She turned to Shane’s bag and found an old, stretched-out
undershirt in the stack of clothes jammed into the corner of the duffel. Trying
not to overthink things, she quickly pulled it on and slid beneath the sheets.
Her nipples beaded under the ultrasoft cotton. No, she was not going to get
herself worked up.

She could hear him in the shower. Imagined his economical
movements. Shane wasn’t the type to linger. He was always in a hurry, always
prepared to get the job done.

Especially when the job included getting her off.

And that was not helping.

She turned her nose into the pillow. Vanilla and the soft
scent of clothesline-fresh sheets mixed with the heady scent of cranberry that
teased the air. Nothing about the basement was dank and stale—no, Delinda
Cooper wouldn’t allow that in her house or her church.

Church.

As if she needed the reminder.

She buried her face in the pillow and screamed. She’d napped
with Shane before. With the desert-sunset romance setting, she’d managed to nod
off for a few hours. Surely she could do the same in a church. The least
romantic idea in the history of romance. She could relax and draw in the peace
for a good night’s rest.

She flipped onto her back and folded her hands over the
sheets across her middle. She drew in a breath and closed her eyes. Deeply
through the nose and out through the mouth. One after the other until her heart
stopped fluttering madly. She heard the door of the bathroom open, and she
continued to keep her eyes closed.

Her imagination was more than enough. She could see the
ridges of his stomach muscles and the endless ropy muscles of his arms and the
tight strength in his thighs. Even the long, masculine feet. She remembered
them peeking from the frayed edges of his jeans. Her breath shortened.

Keep cool, Kendall.

She heard him moving around the room. The bed dipped, and
the tang of mint in the air and the woodsy scent of his soap killed any hope of
keeping her heart rate in check. Her head fuzzed with the rush of blood and how
quickly it flushed the rest of her. Her nipples tightened again, and her sex
swelled. She shifted under the sheets, closing her legs to hold herself
together.

He kept a few inches between them when he finally settled
onto his back.

She couldn’t stand it any longer.

She opened her eyes, and he had one arm tucked under his
head. The wide planes of muscle and chest hair shouldn’t make a better pillow
than the down that cupped her head like it was made for her. Memories of the
crisp hair under her cheek the night before didn’t help. She wanted to feel that
again. But she didn’t trust herself.

Touching Shane made her want more.

She’d slept the night before in the flatbed of the truck,
and nothing had happened then.

She rolled onto her side, away from him, but the bed wasn’t exactly
big enough for Shane. Her butt bumped into his arm. His very tense arm.

Evidently his relaxed pose was about as believable as hers.

She held still and curled her arms around her pillow. The
want permeated the air, and yet both of them stayed on their sides of the bed.
She opened her eyes, and a picture of Jesus stared back at her from the wall.
She groaned and closed her eyes. All it needed was Jesus on there to add to the
torture.

She slid into a fitful sleep. The cool sheets grew warm, and
her dreams dragged her deeper. Hair-roughened legs tangled with hers; the heat
at her back and the cool medal of his rosary burned into her flesh. His hand
cupped her breast, pushing aside the shirt to knead and pluck at her nipple.
His chin dug into her neck, and his other hand curled under her and around her
neck in an embrace that was everything. Hope and home, love and life, warmth
and want.

She laced their fingers together and brought them to her
mouth.

Everything.

When she opened her eyes, the gauzy veil of dawn touched the
room. There were no arms around her, no Shane in her bed, and the phantom
pleasure of his touch faded with reality. She sat up and caught sight of Shane
in the wide wooden chair, his legs splayed out, his cheek pressed into the
cushioned back, and a throw over his shoulders.

He couldn’t even sleep with her?

Just dreams. Just like everything about them. Fantasy and
dreams. She had to remember that. There could be fun on the road, but it had to
stay fun.

She slid out from under the sheets and got dressed. Shane
slept on while she used the bathroom and French braided her hair to keep her
curls under control. She stared into the mirror. “At least you have some
semblance of decorum.”

“Kendall?”

She gathered her toiletries and went back into the room.
“I’m all set. You can have the bathroom.”

He stretched and cracked his neck but wouldn’t look her in
the eye. “Okay.” He glided by her, making sure their skin didn’t touch.

The silence between them as they packed was like another
person in the room. They passed each other with murmured excuse-mes and no eye
contact. Every time he almost touched her, it ratcheted up the tension until
she couldn’t stand it. “Why did you sleep in the chair? We slept together fine
last night.”

He stacked a pile of shirts until they were a tight cube of
cotton and jammed it into the corner of his bag. “I was restless. I didn’t want
to disturb you.”

“I sleep like a rock.”

He didn’t look up. “I’ve only slept with you once, Kendall.
I don’t know that about you.”

She cracked her molars together. “Fine.”

He looked up at that. “Don’t get pissy at me. We agreed to
keep this light, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. It was my idea.”

His evergreen eyes chilled. “Ready to go?”

“Definitely.”

She followed him up the stairs, resolutely staring at his
boots instead of his perfect ass and his massive shoulders under the
cobalt-and-black plaid of his shirt. The tails of his shirt fell just past his
belt. Stupid impressive shoulders.

The bustle of children and the scent of sweet syrup and
butter hit her on the last step.

“Hi!”

Shane stopped at the doorway, his entire body tense with
apprehension. “Hello.”

Kendall peeked around Shane to see the towheaded little boy
grinning up at him minus a front tooth. She slid her hand along his lower back,
and Shane automatically hooked his arm around her neck. She was pretty sure she
had to look like a guppy when he dropped a kiss on her forehead and gave the
little boy a raised brow.

The boy transferred his attention to her. “Wow, why do you
have old-lady hair? You’re just a girl.”

She laughed and dropped down on one knee. “C’mon, it’s white
like Storm from X-Men.”

The kid giggled. “What’re the X-Men?”

Kendall let her chin fall on her chest. Man, when did she get
old? Shane snickered behind her, and she kicked him in the shin. “Comic books
and cartoons.”

“Oh.” The kid shrugged.

“Thomas!”

“Gotta go. Pancakes are ready!”

Kendall looked up at Shane. His lips twitched. “Oh, be
quiet.” She lifted her hand to her hair. Time to put some more blonde in when
she got home. She knew her roots were coming in, but she hadn’t realized it was
that bad. She stood and followed the voices into the dining room.

A pitcher of juice sat in the center with a bowl of eggs,
sausage, and a platter of pancakes.

Delinda set another pitcher on the table. “Come on in, you
two. Eat.”

“Oh, we couldn’t,” Kendall said.

“As you can see, I made enough for my horde and you two.”

Shane held a chair out for Kendall and sat next to her. She
took a pancake and eggs for herself and watched Shane demolish a plate of
pancakes. He and the boys seemed to be in a contest. The giggles and scrape of
silverware were homey sounds that she’d missed terribly.

She picked at her flapjack, giving up to sip some juice.

A shrill work whistle screamed out of Shane’s pocket. She
laughed. “Is that—”

“I got bored with my ringer. Besides, you know I like the
Flintstones.” With a grin and a shrug, he stood. “Excuse me. That’s Jasper.”

She watched him walk out, trying to reconcile the cartoon
side of Shane’s personality and keep up their charade at the same time. She
turned and found Delinda smiling at her. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I remember looking at Jonathon just like
that.”

“What? Like you want to wring his neck?”

“And take a bite out of his cute butt.”

Kendall barked out a laugh. “Yeah, well, they happen at the
same time for me more often than not.”

“Passion’s a good thing. There’s a reason I have five kids.”

Kendall’s eyebrows rose. “It’s not just the God’s-will
thing?”

Delinda laughed. “I suppose that’s part of it. I always
wanted a big family, but mostly it’s because we can’t keep our hands off each
other.”

“I know how that feels.” Too well. She couldn’t imagine how
it would feel to be able to give in to that. To trust in a relationship enough
that it would allow her that kind of freedom.

She looked up as Shane came back in. “Hey.”

He slid his thumb along one of her curls that had come loose
around her face. “Almost ready?”

She nodded. “How’s the truck?”

“Jasper’s just about done with it. He’s sending one of his
guys over to pick us up.”

His face was stony, which wasn’t an unusual thing, but his
eyes were flat. He hadn’t gotten good news. She stood. “We can’t thank you
enough for putting us up, Delinda.” She laid her hand on Thomas’s blond head.
“You’ve got a gorgeous family.”

Delinda stood and hugged her. “You guys travel safe. If you
can do a road trip, you can live through anything in a marriage.”

Shane stilled beside her, but his hand found hers, and their
pinkies twined. “We really do appreciate all you’ve done for us.”

The lines between his brows deepened. Yeah, there definitely
hadn’t been good news from Jasper. She lifted her plate, but again Delinda
waved her off.

“Kids, gather up the plates.”

One by one, the children stacked up plates, with a bit of
ribbing, and waved as they headed out the side door to the house.

“You’ve certainly got great kids.”

Delinda gathered napkins and cups. “Luckily they’re young
enough that a sticker chart still works. Travel safe, you two.”

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