Taken: A One to Take Primer (3 page)

“Why not?”

His shoulders lifted me with his shrug. “It’s always been my place.”

Under the warm, mineral spring, my nipples lightly grazed his chest. Whatever it was doing for him, it was sending all kinds of sensations through me.

“Now it’s ours?”

That brought him up short. “No.”

He took my arms from around his neck, but when he turned, I felt something hard and stiff brush against my hip. His erection made me giggle.

“I felt that.”

He didn’t respond. He was back to being broody and distant, and it was pissing me off. “What’s the matter with you?” I pushed against him, and he flashed.

“Dammit, Mariska.” We were both angry now, our voices raised, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. I knew he wanted me.

“Do you remember that day in the barn?” he said. “After we rode back from the lake?”

“The day you kissed me?”

He was undeterred. “I told you I would leave. It hasn’t changed. I’m going to leave.”

Nodding, I traced my finger through the water. “It seems I remember suggesting you take me with you.”

“When I go, I go alone.”

Blinking up at him, I tried to understand this. Here we were, granted it was only Day 2 of our getaway. Still, we had this connection. We talked about everything. We could barely keep our hands off each other. It was hypnotic and passionate, and it had all the makings of something real and lasting… And this is what he did.

“What’s so great about being alone?”

His eyes narrowed, but he took the question as seriously as I put it. “No one gets hurt except me. I have no weaknesses.”

“You’re thinking like a soldier.”

“A Marine.”

My mind filtered through everything I knew. “Derek’s a Marine. He’s also a daddy and soon to be a husband.”

“Derek’s always been different from me.”

“So I’m a weakness.” Pressing my lips together, I wouldn’t argue with him any more. I was mad.

I swam back to the shore and climbed out of the water. It was warm and delicious running down my legs, but I scooped up my bikini bottoms and stepped into them, quickly pulling them over my hips. Next was the loose-knit top I’d worn. It was over my head in a quick swipe.

“What are you doing?” Stuart’s voice was level, but I could sense a change.

Looking back at him, my braid flipped over my shoulder. “More than one of us can leave.”

With that, I set off toward the cabin. We’d strolled here at a leisurely pace, but I took a fast, determined stride. Minutes later, I was back, pushing through the door and grabbing my bag. When Stuart made me drive over in the truck, I’d been sad because I’d wanted to ride with him again. I wanted my back pressed against his chest, his strong arms around my waist, our hands clasped. We were at the start of this mini-escape, and my brain was full of romantic dreams.

Today, I realized my head was just as hard as his, and I was glad I had a truck to drive back to the ranch. I almost wished I had a plane ticket as well. All of my things were quickly shoved into the duffel I’d brought, and I reached for the door when it opened on its own.

Stuart stood in my way, water dripping from his hair, eyes blazing. “You’re not leaving.”

As angry as I was, my breath still caught at the site of him, towering over me, seeming twice his normal size.

“Yes, I am.” My voice was annoyingly small.

He surveyed me a moment before stepping into the cabin and pulling the door closed behind him with a slam. I was trapped. “Why?”

My brow lined. All the reasons I should go and never look back crowded together in my mind fighting each other to get out. The result was me stuttering. “You… Are you? Seriously…?”

In one quick move, Stuart caught me, pulling my face to his.

“Stop!” I cried out, slapping his hand off my cheeks.

I was angry. He was angry. I pushed at him, trying to get past, and he caught my arm, jerking it behind my back.

“Ow!” I shouted, twisting to get free. “Let me go!”

“No.” His eyes were dark, and something wicked, low in my stomach tingled in response.

I pushed and fought harder. He blocked every blow, holding my wrists, turning them away, lifting me off the ground, pulling me closer to him. We were both breathing hard, our chests moving together.

My voice was low and angry. “What do you want, Stuart?”

In that moment, I saw the break in his eyes. “You.”

Two blinks passed between us before our mouths crashed together. His large hands were on me, tearing my sweater, grasping my breasts. I whimpered, desperately holding on, chasing his kisses with mine, trying to hold him as his mouth moved over me. It was rough and painful, and my insides throbbed for him.

He lifted me in his arms, and we crashed against the sofa on the way to the bed, lips reconnecting. I grasped at his hair, his neck. His mouth moved to my chin and he lowered me then jerked my bikini bottoms off. I made a little noise, but he didn’t stop. His shorts were off just as fast, and he gripped my waist, turning me on my stomach and pushing into me from behind.

“Oh, god!” We both groaned as he filled me. Rocking the bed, he lifted me off my feet with the force of his thrusting. Pain mixed with pleasure, and I tried to hold on, I tried to keep up as he fought this battle with himself.

His body flexed and then arched over my shoulder, sending him deeper than he’d ever been. I moaned louder, and a matching groan rumbled from his throat.

“Stuart,” I gasped. In this position, my clit was pressed and rubbed against the mattress. It sent shockwaves tingling and shooting down my legs matching the force of him stretching and invading me from behind. The sensation was overwhelming.

Every muscle below my waist tightened with each move. My orgasm snaked up my legs, and my eyes squeezed shut at the building release.

He jerked into me harder and then
Smack!
A hard slap stung across my ass. Threading his fingers into my braid, he pulled my head against his shoulder.

“Oh!” I whimpered, reeling from the conflicting sensations.

“You’re not leaving.” His beard scuffed against the sensitive spot on my neck, and electricity shattered through my core.

My eyes squeezed shut as my orgasm, wicked and intense, blazed through my legs. “Stuart,” I cried.

He pulled my hair again, biting at my neck. “Say it.” It was a hoarse command coupled with a deep thrust.

His intense possessiveness, his grip, his words… all of it combined with the sensations racking my body to make my head swim.
What was he doing to me?

“Say it.” He demanded.

My thighs shook. Each push took him deeper, and he kept scrubbing my clit against the mattress. I’d gone from mind-numbing orgasm to pleasure that was now painful.

“I’m not leaving,” I gasped, needing him to stop.

He didn’t stop. He gave me three more swift thrusts before holding himself deep inside me, leaning over my shoulder as he groaned through his orgasm. He pulsed, filling me, then growing still. My heart beat so hard, and I couldn’t move. My bones were liquid as I lay on the bed.

Two more breaths, and he climbed onto the mattress, pulling me with him. I couldn’t resist if I wanted to as he wrapped me in his arms, holding me against his chest. His face was at my shoulder, buried in my hair, and he breathed deeply. We were both panting. Holding him, I could feel his pulse at my temple.

“Stuart,” I whispered.

“You’re mine.” He rumbled against my skin. “You don’t leave me.”

My jaw clenched. I was still recovering from that blazing fuck, and I hated how shockingly true his words were. I’d need the strength of Hercules to walk away from him. At the same time, I knew I had to stay strong.

“But you can leave me?”

He didn’t answer. He only held me firm against his chest. Our breath swirled in and out, mixing and mingling, and I wondered if he’d ever let me go. I wondered if I ever wanted him to. After a few moments, he did relax. He reached down and pulled the Indian blanket over me. Kissing my shoulder, he went to the bathroom and closed the door.

I pulled the blanket tight around me trying to calm my swirling emotions.

D
eep blues
, olive greens and brown. Tonight I started with as much of the landscape as I could remember. A lot of it had been brown prairie grass, but when Elaine and I had driven to town, I’d seen more variety—silver spruce trees, red rock formations, soaring waterfalls. We were there in the winter, but I used my imagination to see what it might be like in the spring or summer.

A square butte west of the city formed a backdrop for the brown of wild horses running across the prairie. It was all so open and vast under the sky. I had to capture the orange arc of clouds over the Chinook.

Again, my hair was up in a high ponytail, but tonight I wore the grey Henley I’d stolen from Stuart. His scent was fading on it, and I wished I’d thought to snoop in his toiletries bag for whatever cologne this was. Sure it was torture, but I was an artist. Suffering was good for my art.

I decided to have a glass of wine. It was Sunday, technically a work night, but our hours at the gym allowed me to sleep in, and I’d had to work every day but Friday. I pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay and had just twisted off the cap when someone knocked on my door.

My heart flew into a panic. I’d left my phone in the other room, and Kenny always texted before she came over. She knew I didn’t like opening the door at night when I wasn’t expecting visitors.

I crept through my living area, which really was getting too crowded with books. I needed to get an eReader, but I still liked to hold them and smell them.

The knock came again, and I jumped. Carefully, I rose on my tiptoes to look through the peep hole, and my heart stopped working.

His back was turned as he seemed to scan the parking lot, but I easily recognized those broad shoulders. The canvass jacket I knew as well as the short, dark hair that I loved to slide my fingers through. He turned back, and the sight of his eyes was like warm honey poured through my veins.

Stuart Knight stood outside my door. He wasn’t overseas.

As much as I wanted to throw it open, I quickly assessed my wardrobe. My hair was up in a ponytail, and of course, I had flecks of blue paint in the tips. I seemed to remember touching my cheek with the brush at some point, so I knew there was a streak of green there. You’d think I was freaking Jackson Pollock the way I threw paint all over myself.

Another loud knock, and I let out a little shriek when I jumped.

“Mariska?” His low voice clutched my insides through the wooden barrier.

There was no hiding now. I’d have to see him looking like this. I didn’t have time to change or clean up.

Turning the lock, I slowly opened the door, wishing all this had come ten minutes from now. After I’d had that glass of wine. Our last telephone conversation wasn’t the most confidence inspiring.

Our eyes met, and his gleamed with something. I remembered the night I’d seen a break in his wall. The night he’d said he wanted me. Those few glorious days I’d been His Mariska.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call first.” His eyes flickered quickly over my body and the change I saw in them scorched my insides. I hadn’t worn a bra under his Henley, and other than that, I only wore black footless leggings.

“You came back.” My voice was breathless.
God, how I still loved this man.

“I never left. Are you busy?”

“I-I was just painting.”

Again his expression changed. His obvious lust was replaced with something like cautious optimism. “I’ve wanted to see your art. Would you show it to me?”

Several obvious questions—
What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Saudi? What do you want from me?
—were forgotten for the moment. I stepped back to let him in, and like a gentleman (a good Marine?) he slipped off his boots.

“It’s back here,” I said, pushing the door closed and turning the deadbolt behind him.

His canvass jacket slipped down his arms, and I took it, tossing it on the sofa. He followed me through the crammed living room, the sparse kitchen where I hadn’t cooked in weeks, back to the guest room I’d converted into a studio. It was always too small for a bedroom, and I never had overnight guests.

“Fire in the Desert” was leaning against the wall drying, and “Chasing the Dawn” was up on my easel. It looked better than I thought when I left it minutes ago.

“You do abstracts.” His voice was quiet as he squatted in front of the blaze of orange, yellow, and red on the floor. His eyes lifted to mine, and the mixture of approval and desire made my legs weak.

“I’ve never been much of a portrait artist.” My hands were fluttery, but I gestured to the unfinished work on the easel. “I got the idea for this one talking to your uncle about the colt.”

He straightened and stepped toward it, toward me. He scanned the canvass, and I scanned him, broad shoulders under a navy tee. His dark jeans hugged his ass in the most pleasing way, but they were loose down his legs. I swooned from his handsomeness like I had since that very first day.

“What did he say?” It was as if he needed my answer before he could go on.

“I asked him how long it took to break a horse, and he said it depended on the animal.” I tried to remember his exact words. “He said after all the work he’d done, brushing and gentling him, the colt would still get spooked when he saw him on his back. And he said if the colt threw him, that would spook him, too.”

Stuart’s body seemed to tense at my words. It was time to get back to those obvious questions.

Reaching out, I carefully touched his arm. “I thought you were in Saudi.”

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

“It smells like you.”

Before I could blink, he’d grabbed me. Emotion pulsed fiercely in my chest as he held me against the wall. His arms were under mine, and my head was in his hands. Our noses just touched, our lips a whisper apart as he spoke.

“I couldn’t get on the plane.” His breath came as fast as mine, and my lips throbbed for his kiss. “I thought my dream was in the desert, but it’s not. It’s here with you.”

I held his shirt, gripping the cloth. “Stuart…” It was all I could say.

His voice was unyielding as always. “You saved me from going back to a life that was killing me. How?”

It was a valid question. All of this was useful discussion, but I wanted to kiss him. Leaning forward, the smell of cedar and Stuart filled my senses. His strong arms supported me, and my lips grazed his as I answered.

“I told you. It was a dream.”

His mouth covered mine, demanding as always. He kissed me like I was a country to be liberated, and he was the Marine for the job. Tongues collided, another small noise ached from my throat. Fire sizzled under my skin.

Leaning back, he breathed in my hair, his lips grazed my ear. The scruff of his beard sent sparks down my limbs as he spoke. “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m so sorry I thought you lied.”

Tears burned in my eyes. I clutched at his biceps, his strong shoulders. I wanted to feel his skin. “I should have told you everything.”

His lips pulled at mine again. Hungry kisses moved my mouth over and over as he desperately quelled the pain that had nearly torn me apart. I was against the wall, and he was between my legs.

“I never gave you the chance.” He kissed a line to my ear, pulling my earlobe between his teeth, giving me a little nip.

I felt his erection against my thighs, massaging between my legs. I wanted to lose the leggings, lose all our clothes and make crazy love.

“I’m covered in paint,” I gasped.

He lowered me and looked around the small room. “We should give you a shower.”

That white-hot memory flashed in my mind. My voice was trembling and eager when I answered him. “Okay.” I was on my feet and following him across the hall to my bathroom.

“Lift your arms.” He was giving orders again, and I followed gladly. I reached up, and he swept his grey Henley over my head and off.

His breath hissed when he saw me topless. Rough hands rose to cup my breasts, thumbs circled my nipples, and ecstatic desire roared through my body. How I had longed for this moment.

Lowering his caress, he touched the line of stars covering my left side. “This is new.” He leaned down and lightly kissed it, tracing a sizzling trail up my hips.

“I got it for our night under the stars.” He leaned up, eyes full of longing. “The night I made the wish.”

“You never told me what you wished for.”

“I’m still hoping it’s coming true.”

Cupping my cheeks, he kissed me softly this time, pulling first my top lip then my bottom between his. “I love it.”

I could barely take the anticipation. “Now you.” Lifting the navy shirt he wore, I smoothed it off, running my hands up and over his broad shoulders. I rested my nose against his skin, breathing deeply. “You smell so good.”

Strong arms gathered me up, and once again our bodies were skin to skin. A part-groan, part-sigh rose from both of us.

He leaned down to find my mouth with his, and we were lost in a deep kiss. I could only follow along wherever he planned to take me. This reunion was so unexpected and sweet and incredibly welcome, it ached in my bones.

Releasing me, he stepped back to turn on the shower. Water roared against the back wall. I was still clutched against his firm torso, and his light sprinkling of chest hair teased my nipples. I was so wet. I dropped my face against his shoulder, pressing my lips to his skin, touching it with my tongue.

We had to talk about what happened, what brought him here, but for now I didn’t want to look my gift horse in the mouth. I wanted to hold him, love him, let him surround me, take away all the pain.
I’m feeling no pain now
. I smiled remembering his words.

“What?” His eyes were back on me.

“I was thinking of our last shower. We got dirty while getting clean.”

“I’d like to get dirtier.”

Passion bubbled in my veins in the most pleasing way as he led me into the small, rectangular space. He was behind me under the steaming hot water, and his hands slipped up my torso. Strong hands cupped my breasts while long fingers pinched the tight tips.

Dropping my head back on his shoulder, I let out a moan. His erection was at my back now, and I wanted him inside me. In one fluid motion he turned us. “Put your hands on the wall.”

I did as he said, and he spread my legs apart with his knee. Before I could think, he was inside me. “Oh, yes!” I panted, my thighs humming with the intensity.

He had me around the waist as he started to rock. Slowly at first, he filled me, stretching me, massaging every place that had missed him so much. His hand traveled around my thigh to my clit. Two fingers circled slowly, tantalizing me. It wouldn’t take much. The anticipation and surprise combined with his steamy kisses and caresses had already peaked my orgasm to the edge.

As his thrusting became more violent, sparks flushed through my torso. My insides quaked and exploded with so much pleasure, my elbows bent. I would have collapsed if he hadn’t scooped me around the waist.

“Mariska.” His voice was a ragged groan at my neck as he leaned us forward on his forearms, pounding into me from behind. Four more quick thrusts, and he held me clutched in his arms, my back against his chest. I could feel his body tremble as his cock pulsed inside me. He finished with another low groan.

Sliding out, he turned me slowly so that I was facing him again, my back against the cool tiles. Large hands smoothed my hair from my face as his lips trailed kisses from my brow down to my temple. The softness of his touch followed by the scuff of his jaw teased my fading orgasm. At last our mouths reunited, and he kissed me as if taking a slow drink of water.

Leaving me with my head back against the wall, he looked deep in my eyes. “I can’t live without you. Please say you’ll forgive me for hurting you.”

My body was weak with pleasure and relief, but I reached for his face. “If you’ll forgive me for not being completely honest with you.”

He kissed me again, and my insides tightened with intense joy. We were back, he was back, and we were in that magical place I never wanted to leave.

“Those weeks apart, you never left my mind.” He kissed my cheek holding me against his body. “You changed me. I can’t leave you.”

The time I threatened to leave him crossed my mind. “We’ve closed the circle then.” His brow lined, and I continued. “I can’t leave you.”

“Come on.” He reached back and shut off the water. “I don’t know that we got very clean, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“All my thoughts were very dirty.”

“I hope you’ll tell me every one.”

I took the fluffy towel he held out, rubbing it over my hypersensitive body. The tips of my hair were now damp and not covered in blue.

“Hang on,” he said, eyes sparkling. I waited as he took the damp rag and rubbed it over my cheek. “Got a little green there.”

“I’m as much of a paint slinger as an artist, I guess.”

He scooped me into his arms again. “You’re an amazing artist.” A light kiss on my lips and he released me. “I love your work.”

Every word sent healing pulses of joy through my heart. This was heaven, and I never wanted to leave. “You have to tell me what happened to bring you here, but are you hungry? I could order takeout.”

His hands were on my waist again, thumbs circling against my skin. “Just as long as it can be delivered.”