Authors: Cerian Hebert
Once they were back on the road, he held
onto her hand as he drove. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t have to. She
loved the silence, the feel of him in the seat next to her while she watched
the black landscape slide by. Hills rolled gently, darker than the deep purple
sky. It rose and fell, sometimes flattening out for miles. Occasionally they
passed a house or a ranch that was lit up, but mostly it was just dark. In the
rearview mirror she noted the clouds gathering. A jagged, forked finger reached
out from one toward the earth, lighting the entire bottom of the cloud with a
white flash. It looked wicked, but far away. Still, she kept her eye on it. It
excited her, as if the lightning itself charged her blood. Nothing like a storm
racing across the prairie. At night it seemed all that much more awesome.
When they arrived at Emerald, she was
wide-awake and bound with energy. Craig got out of the car and they walked hand
in hand to the house. On the porch, she turned to face him.
“Want to come in? Or do you need to get
home?”
“Marisol is spending the night with my
parents. And I believe there was a second part to our bet. Unless you’re too
tired.”
Ah, yes, the second part. No, she wasn’t
too tired at all.
“Come on in.”
Now this was strange. Inviting him into
his own home, her first home, her first relationship with a man outside
college. It shouldn’t have shaken her. After all, they’d already made love on
several occasions, including in her own bed, but this, well the tone of the
evening was different than that first time. More laid back, like they were a
real couple coming home from an evening out.
“Don’t start playing house yet,” she
told herself sternly and kicked off the low-heeled sling-backs she’d tortured
herself with all evening.
“Can I get you a drink? Wine or beer?
Water?”
“I’m good,” Craig replied. He took his
jacket off and slung it over the back of a chair in the living room.
Yes, he was. Quinn decided she didn’t
need alcohol—this man was enough. In the crisp white button down dress shirt,
he looked taller and broader than normal. She tried to connect this businessman
with the rancher, and if it weren’t for the smile on his face, she wouldn’t
have been able to do it. Both sides of him were incredibly and equally sexy and
she hoped she’d get a glimpse of this Craig from time to time. She knew those
moments would be few and far between, but it would be worth the wait.
“Hmm,” she thought aloud, looking around
the living room. She tapped her finger against her lips then glanced at Craig.
His eyes were steady and intense.
“Hmm what?”
“Deciding where the best place for a
massage would be,” she replied. “Here or the bedroom?”
Craig decided for her. With ease, he
swung her up into his arms and carried her down to her room, covering the
distance with ground-eating strides.
Thank goodness she’d made the bed that
morning.
When he carefully laid her down on the
bed, she watched him as he pulled the tie free of his neck. “Of course the best
place for a massage is at the spa over at Long Knife,” she noted, her tone
teasing.
He glanced down at her and grinned.
“They won’t give me the personal service I demand.” He dropped the tie on her
dresser and started unbuttoning his shirt.
Quinn continued to watch him. “If you’d given
me some notice I would’ve picked up some of those sexy massage oils. The kind
that are supposed to heat up and make your muscles tingle.”
Craig chuckled and shrugged off his
shirt. Quinn’s mouth went dry. She took a deep breath and tried to slow down
the quick-fire beat of her heart. Every single part of her started to melt at
the sight of his bare torso, the tanned muscular chest. He’d been doing some
work outside without a shirt on. That was something she wanted to see.
“I don’t think we need any fancy massage
oils, but it’s a nice thought.”
“Well, I’m not going to use horse
liniment on you. The only thing I have on hand is some of my girly body cream.
Do you really want to smell like cherry blossoms?”
He started working on his pants. She
couldn’t sit here watching. She felt rather foolish staring at his long bare
legs as his pants dropped to the floor. With more energy than she felt, she got
off the bed and headed to the bathroom. In there, she looked at herself in the
mirror and was surprised at the flustered look in her wide eyes. She wasn’t
used to being thrown curve balls when they came from a man like Craig. Oh,
hell, she thought, it was Craig. If she’d been there with any one else she’d be
calm. She would never be in this position with any other man.
He was waiting for her. She grabbed the
bottle of lotion out of the medicine cabinet and went back to her room. Craig
reclined on her bed, not completely undressed.
Hmm. Boxer briefs. I think I approve.
Quinn stared a moment longer, gripping
the bottle tightly. “I kind of stretched the truth about ‘magic fingers’. I
have never given a massage to anyone, well, any humans anyway, so you’ll have
to forgive me if I hurt you.”
“First of all you need to get out of
your dress, because as beautiful as it is, and no matter how absolutely
gorgeous you look in it, I don’t think you’ll be comfortable.”
Quinn put the lotion down on the bedside
table and turned her back to him. “Can you get the zipper?” She pulled her hair
aside, baring her shoulder. As his fingers drew the zipper slowly down her
back, he kissed her skin. Thrills ran throughout her body at each touch, each
brush of his lips against her, each stroke of his fingers as he gently pushed
the spaghetti straps off her shoulders and then released the hooks on the back
of her black strapless bra.
Pure contentment filled her, replacing
the nervousness she felt a moment ago. This was right. Slow paced, no reason to
rush. No one waited for either of them. She leaned against him and sighed
deeply.
“Don’t you think you’re getting out of
your end of the bet,” Craig whispered in her ear before kissing the lobe.
“Maybe you should change into something more comfortable.”
Quinn pulled away from him and ambled to
her closet, letting the dress slide from her body, followed by the bra, so all
that covered her was the black slip and stockings. She ought to put on her
rattiest pair of sweat pants and an old tee shirt. She pulled out what she
considered was her most seductive pair of pajamas. Not one piece of sexy
negligee hung from her closet or graced her dresser drawers. She wasn’t a
negligee kind of gal, but she did have a simple, pale green silky nightgown
that plunged low and reached mid thigh. She’d bought it under extreme duress
when she was in Paris and her friends discovered a shop of such niceties. This
was the least offensive garment she could find. She slid it over her head, and
for the first time she was glad they had talked her into purchasing it.
She sauntered back into the bedroom and
eyed Craig. He looked comfortable, lying against her pillows, arms behind his
head, smiling at her. Smug. That’s what he looked. Damned smug while she
shivered inside.
Easy does it.
Yeah, easier
said than done. She didn’t know why her insides were in such a flutter. This
wasn’t their first time together. But this was the first time when they hadn’t
been taken by a firestorm of want and need. Now they faced a slow buildup of
passion and it gave her time to think, time to consider.
“Okay, big guy.” She slid into bed next
to him, ran her hand up from the waistband of his boxers to his collarbone and
nibbled at his jaw. “Turn over onto your stomach. You’re going to get a massage
you won’t soon forget.”
Someone or something was staring at him.
Craig cracked one eye open. A blur of gray and black with a slash of pink and
white took shape in front of his face. Then he noticed the sound. The sharp in
and out of breath followed by the sound of licking of lips. It got his
attention and he opened his other eye.
Quinn’s Blue Heeler, Zorro sat at the
side of the bed, staring at him with intent brown eyes. His ears pricked up as
soon as Craig moved.
For a moment, he’d forgotten where he
was, but now he remembered. The room was bathed in weak light but he recognized
it as Quinn’s, and when he reached his hand out, he found her warm little body
curled up next to him. He left his hand resting on her side so he could feel
the gentle rise and fall as she breathed.
The dog, however, wouldn’t be ignored.
He gave a little whimper to let Craig know he was desperate to go out.
Carefully Craig got out of bed, pulled on his discarded boxers and white tee
shirt, and took Zorro out of the room. The dog jogged enthusiastically ahead
and waited for him at the door.
A thin gray drizzle fell out of the lead
colored sky. Last night’s storm left enormous puddles all across the ranch yard
and it didn’t look like there’d be any sun to dry them up. He watched the dog
make his rounds, sniffing out any new and interesting scents, pausing here and
there and being distracted by sounds down at the barn. Whatever he heard, Craig
couldn’t make it out.
Not knowing whether or not she left the
dog outside to his own devices, Craig waited at the door to see what the animal
would do. He leaned against the doorframe and inhaled the fresh, rain soaked
air. God, it felt good to be home. He didn’t mean just Emerald, though he’d
always consider this his first and primary home, but being back in South
Dakota, being in Falstad with all the familiar faces and familiar landscape. He’d
never much thought of it before, but during his marriage he, Elise and Marisol
never really had a home. They had a “home base” with the apartment in DC, but
they traveled so much that Marisol couldn’t even be properly enrolled in
school.
After a while he adapted to the hectic
lifestyle. As long as he had his laptop he was fine to write, no matter where
Elise’s latest assignment took them. Not that he always followed her from place
to place. There were times, especially after Marisol was born, when it wasn’t
safe to tag along. That’s when he and Marisol would stay in DC, or if the
assignment were going to be short, they’d go to London or some other location
where they could meet up with Elise.
Never any rest. Never able to settle.
Some might think it exciting, and he had to admit for a while he enjoyed the
lifestyle, but standing here now, looking out over the prairie, with its subtle
shifts, he knew he never wanted to stray.
Yes, it had something to do with the
woman nestled in bed, who he longed to go back and join. What a surprise she
turned out to be. Last night. He shook his head, couldn’t fight the smile that
tugged at his mouth. He hadn’t planned on staying the night, but he couldn’t
help himself and she wasn’t about to kick him out of her bed.
The storm had caught up with them,
battering the house with wind and thunder. It had charged her. What a lover.
Every time he thought he couldn’t get any more of her, he was proven wrong.
When he saw her standing there in that sexy green nightgown, he was lost.
Uncertainty had clouded her eyes and completely disarmed him. Maybe she didn’t
realize how vulnerable she looked, but he saw it, it surprised him because she
rarely showed it. She’d replaced her hesitation quick enough with the
seductress look. How much more was hidden behind that confident exterior?
She was right about one thing; she
didn’t give such good person massages, but what she lacked in talent she made
up with determination and enthusiasm. He’d feel the effects of her “magic”
fingers on his muscles all day. A trip to Jacob’s spa might be in order, but
then again, every time he lifted his arm, he’d be reminded of their night
together. Sweet pain. Maybe it was worth it to suffer.
“He can stay out there.”
Craig swung around.
Tousled hair, sleepy eyes and a smile
greeted him. She wasn’t wearing the green nightgown but donned an elderly blue
robe with white polka dots. His gaze traveled down her body and he chuckled.
Blue house slippers.
God he loved her.
She might not want him to say the
words, for whatever reason, but he couldn’t deny it any more. And he would say
it. He’d find the perfect moment and tell her how much he wanted her, needed
her. They’d have to come out in the open about their relationship, no hiding.
No secrets. There’d be fallout from several directions and Jacob would maybe
take a swing at him, but how could he not yell it to the world that he was head
over heels in love with Quinn Emery.
“Coffee? I can whip up a quick
breakfast.”
She shuffled through the kitchen to the
coffee pot. “Leave the door open. The breeze feels good. I have cobwebs in my
brain.” She threw a look over her shoulder and gave him another sleepy smile.
“Did you feed me more wine last night? I feel like I had too much to drink. No,
you didn’t, never mind. Just not enough sleep.”
Craig set the table while Quinn took out
the eggs, bacon, and bread, then he began the toast making duties. Moving
around the kitchen with her seemed right. They didn’t talk too much, except to
comment on the storm, the gray wet weather, and what effects the rain would
have on the trails they’d take for the overnighter. Their conversation was
casual, no hidden expectations or unasked questions.