Trespass (9 page)

Nicole grinned, nose crinkling. “You’re good at this.”

“Well, you put terrible thoughts in my head.” He stared between them, wanting so much more than the teasing pleasure they were sharing now. He wanted it rougher. He wanted his cock inside her slippery folds, the feel and the sound of his thighs slapping hers, the frantic greedy motions of their bodies using one another. He wanted her voice begging for him over and over as he drove deep. He wanted to feel like a
man
again—not the workaholic Russ-shaped shell that’d been rattling around in this house the past few lonely years. He wanted to be twenty-nine again, the age he’d been when he’d decided to feel sorry enough for himself to stop living. And with Nicole he felt like that man. Looking down at her now, he could just about cry with gratitude.

But staring at the naked female body laid out across his bed also redoubled the lust, drove away some of Russ’s sentimentality and ushered the desperate hunger back in its place. He abandoned the teasing and wedged his knees under Nicole’s thighs and leaned in, hands braced at her shoulders and his cock resting against her pussy. He held there without moving, stared into her eyes and smiled.

She smiled back. “What?”

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

Her grin deepened. “I guess single women don’t come by to bother you as often as coyotes.”

Russ laughed politely but held back a dozen corrections he wanted to share, knowing they were too earnest, given how new he and Nicole were to each other. She was more than just a single woman to him. A wistful part of himself that Russ hadn’t been in touch with for half a lifetime thought she’d been brought here by something more meaningful than a coincidental blast of buckshot. By fate, maybe.

“Nicole,” he began.

Her eyes darted between his, uncertain.

Don’t scare her off now.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and left it at that.

She pursed her lips, moved her gaze down his torso. “You’re beautiful too.”

Russ shook the sentimentality from his head. He let his body take over, arms locking, hips running his cock along her wet lips like the night before…except this time he wasn’t going to lose himself after a minute’s frantic pleasure. Tonight he wanted to feel her come against him, as close as he could get to that thing his body was screaming for.

“God, Russ.”

He shut his eyes at the sound. He let her voice drift through his body as her hands surveyed his skin, warm palms running up and down his arms and chest and sides.

“Faster.”

He took the order happily. He felt a surge of sexual aggression, that desire to take, to be rough and selfish and animalistic, so long as she could handle it. The hands on his racing hips told him she could, that she wanted to uncover that side of Russ as badly as he did.

“Wanna make you come,” he muttered.

“Keep going.”

He leaned back on his knees, keeping the motions going as he grabbed her thighs and held them tight to his hips.

Nicole brought her hand between them and pressed it over Russ’s cock. He could feel the sweet friction of her clit against his ridge each time he pushed forward, could feel her body jolting in time with it.

Russ imagined the things she’d talked about—sex under the endless blue sky, in the grass, in the water—hell, in the mud. Fall colors like now, then snow falling outside the window and a fire in the hearth, then green, green spring everywhere as his truck rattled down the never-ending dirt road toward town, Nicole in the passenger seat. He’d wandered back into his romantic haze without intending to, and he didn’t stumble out again until he felt her nails raking his skin, her body begging his to keep going, to take her where she wanted to be.

He stared down at her, rapt. “Come for me.”

“Russ.”

He sped up his strokes, looked into her eyes, and felt powerful and helpless all at once. “Come on. Please.”

Her eyes snapped shut as her back arched and a deep, harsh moan seemed to curl her body from the inside out. Her hands grasped his backside and held him still as she moved herself against his cock in small motions. Russ thought he’d catch fire from the heat of her wet lips. Blood and power thundered through his veins, and with the crazy, sentimental thoughts from earlier pushed out of his mind, he gave himself over to his body’s wishes.

He relocated his knees to either side of Nicole’s waist so his dick hovered above her breasts, her palms on his thighs.

“Touch me.” Not quite a command, but not a plea either.

She smiled as she took the order. One hand cupped his hip as the other wrapped around his cock.

“Tighter.”

Her fist squeezed him hard.

“Good. Stroke me.”

The pleasure was unbelievable, a good part of it rooted in the bossiness. Russ hadn’t been this way in so long, and even with Beth he’d held back. He wanted a taste of what he’d forfeited when he’d adopted the role of gentle husband.

“Be rough,” he muttered.

Nicole’s eyes were narrowed and heated as she gave him what he asked for—mean, fast pulls that lit him up with pleasure.

“More. Don’t stop.” He reached a hand out to touch her breast, a firm squeeze at first, then a gentle pinch of her nipple. Her lips parted with a harsh sigh, unmistakable pleasure. He tweaked her harder and watched with fascination as her body reacted, back arching again. He added his other hand, playing with her as the pleasure reached a violent boil deep in his belly.

Reality dissipated like steam. All Russ knew of was the tight fist stroking his cock, the soft flesh quaking under his touch, the smell of female sex and sweat, and a desperate need to release—to watch his come lash the pale skin of this glorious woman’s breasts and to feel as if she were his.

“Come on, Russ.” Her voice echoed just how he felt—hungry. He remembered that moment in the bathroom, a beautiful woman on her knees, thirsty for him, as though she wanted Russ more than any other thing on the planet. The image of her lips wrapped around his cock sent the last of his self-control out the window. He fumbled his way forward, knees right up around her ribs. He grasped the headboard with one hand and his dick in the other, angled his head to her mouth and jacked himself home.

He heard her mumble his name one last time as his body erupted, felt her smooth palm cup his balls and squeeze him gently as the orgasm hit.

“God, Nicole.” His hips bucked with the spasms as his release streamed over his knuckles, her chin, her lips before they closed around him. “Oh, fuck.”

Russ gulped steadying breaths and became aware once more of the room and its cool air, the sweat streaking his skin. He’d closed his eyes and he opened them just as Nicole swallowed. The scene knocked some sense into him, tensing him with guilt. He moved to the side, curling his body against hers and dabbing at the mess he’d made on her chin. He tried wording the apology in his head…then she touched him, mussed his damp hair and smiled.

“Awesome,” she said.

He returned the smile hesitantly. “What is?”

“Just you,” she said with a shrug. “When you’re all worked up.”

“Oh. And here I was about to apologize for being too rough. And…I dunno. Too filthy.”

She laughed and pushed up onto her elbow. Staring at him, she reached out to smooth his overgrown hair and tuck it behind his ear. “Sex is supposed to be filthy. If it’s not, you’re probably doing it wrong.”

Russ mulled the thought over, tempted to convert to her philosophy.

She traced his brow and nose and mouth with a fingertip. “You know all about animals…you must believe in them doing what’s in their nature. And you’re an animal too, you know.”

He nodded.

“I’m an animal,” she said.

“I suppose.”

Nicole’s brows rose. “Oh, I am, don’t you worry.” She flopped back against the covers with a happy sigh. “So don’t ever fuck me like I’m a lady, Russ.”

It was his turn to sit up. He studied her body, and the sheen of her skin, watched a vein throbbing faintly in her throat.
Animal.
The idea was exciting, like a lid lifting to reveal a treasure chest full of things Russ wanted to explore. But it scared him too. It made him wonder if he amounted to more than the nearest male in heat, and if there was room for tenderness once their two needy bodies had taken what they wanted from one another. Nicole amounted to far more than a mere body to Russ.

She reached out to touch his face again, a little taste of what Russ was needing. “The stew’s not burning, is it?”

He sighed, looking around the room, reluctant for all this to end. “It could probably stand a good stirring.”

They dressed in silence, and he sensed her body cooling perceptibly, the warmth of her presence waning. She tugged her long-sleeved shirt over her head. Her gaze wandered everywhere but Russ’s face, and the sudden change in her terrified him. He stepped close and pulled her into a hug.

Her body was rigid for a few seconds then her arms circled his neck. “What’s this for?” Her words were muffled against his shoulder.

“I’m just real glad to have you here.”

“Oh.” The reply was small, a glorified breath. Russ panicked again and stepped back, sensing she didn’t want all this sudden affection and familiarity. He’d gotten far too good at forgetting they were strangers, far too fast. She touched his shoulder as he stepped away and offered him a sad smile.

“Better tend to the stew,” he said.

Nicole nodded.

Russ led them back into the den, checked on dinner and gave the pot a good scrape.

“Can I feed the dogs while we wait?” she asked.

“Sure.”

She looked into the pot. “Any nice chunks in there I could use to get into their good graces?”

Russ grabbed a mug and ladled out half a serving. “That’ll do it. I’ll show you where the kibble is.”

“No need. You stay right here and be the pretty housewife. It’s that big bag on the shelf near the door, right?”

Russ nodded.

“How much?”

“There’s a can inside it, one scoop apiece. Their bowls are just by the spigot, which I know you’re more than familiar with.”

“Got it.” She took the mug, heading for the back door. Russ watched her butt as she went then shook his head at himself.

She returned just as he was flipping the record over. She left the mug in the sink and stood by the fire while he puttered, looking lost in the flames. As Russ came by to add a log, she relocated to the couch. He dished out two bowls and grabbed a pair of dishtowels, joining her with a couple of polite feet between them on the cushions.

She took her bowl and spoon, draped the proffered towel over her lap. “Thanks, Russ.”

“Sure thing.” He moved the food around with his bowl but didn’t eat. The air between them had grown cold and he didn’t understand why. An old, ugly panic was beginning to claw at his insides—he’d lose her. Not the crippling way he’d lost Beth, but it would hurt all the same. He’d been an idiot to let his body call the shots and get him in deep with her. Who knew why she was here, but Russ bet it would blow over, and when it did she’d be wanting to get back to whatever her normal life was. It burned him that he could end up just the tiniest episode to her, a diversion, a fluke, when she’d waltzed in and overnight become the sun around which his world orbited.

They ate in silence, ten minutes that felt like an ice age.

“I guess you’ll be moving on soon,” Russ finally said. “Whenever things have settled down for you, back home. Wherever home is.”

She turned, gaze jumping from his face to his bowl to his chest, everywhere. “Yeah, pretty soon. I can’t sponge off you forever.” She smiled at him, a taste of that warmth he was getting so damn attached to.

“I hope I’ve made it clear you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

She nodded, staring at her dinner. “You have. I appreciate it.”

“It’s been real nice, having company for a change. Human company.”

“So you keep saying.”

“And the help.”

“And you’ve been the perfect host, Russ. When I go…it’s nothing personal.” She pursed her lips. “When I leave, I hope you won’t think it’s because I don’t appreciate everything you’ve offered me. Or that I didn’t enjoy…you know. The other things.”

“You need to get home.”

She huffed out a breath, nostrils flaring. “Yeah. Yeah, I need to get to home.”

Russ watched her push the remains of her dinner around in its bowl. “And you need to get to bed soon too,” he offered. It was early still, but he guessed she was aching for a little solitude. As much as he was aching for contact. And she probably needed rest, after what he’d put her through around the property. Idiot. He should’ve downplayed exactly how much work this place required.

She kept her eyes down. “Yeah. I’m getting pretty tired.”

“I won’t keep you.” Russ stood and headed to the sink with a heavy heart. He doled the leftovers into a plastic bag and put it in the freezer beside other such bachelor-ready specimens. He filled the pot with water to soak and tossed dishes inside, dried his hands and walked to Nicole, afraid of the cold good night he felt coming. But he saw something else in her face, something softer than before. She offered a weak smile and set her bowl and napkin on the table. As she stood, Russ could see the words forming just behind her lips, perhaps a gentle suggestion that they quit with the sex, that she’d had a change of heart.

“Russ,” she began.

“Yeah?”

She didn’t speak. Taking a step forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her face into the skin below his ear. He let his own arms circle her back and held her without understanding what this embrace was all about.

Her words warmed his neck. “Thank you.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“You’ve been really kind to me. I appreciate it.” She stepped back and smiled deeper, sadness still clinging to the corners of her lips. “You’re a very nice man. And you’re very handsome.”

Russ felt his cheeks warm and grinned down at his bare feet. “Thanks.” He met her eyes again, struggling to keep the earnestness reined in and match the hold she seemed to have over her emotions. “You’re beautiful. And you’re welcome. Anytime, and for as long as you want, you’re welcome.”