“As hot as that was, I’m surprised the brandy didn’t combust.” Rising on one elbow, she sipped the sweet, spicy liquor, then stretched again, her muscles buttery soft and completely relaxed. He spooned against her side, his fingertips skating over her skin. Normally, she was too sensitized after sex to enjoy further caresses. But her usual urge to cover herself and flee never arrived. Wonder of wonders, Jesse Del Toro had taught her to appreciate post-sex cuddles.
He shifted onto his back, pulling her over him like a blanket. Heady stuff, the sensation of his big, hot body beneath her, his steady heartbeat against her cheek. While he hummed into her hair, she glanced down at his cock, still half-erect against his thigh. So many things she wanted to do with this gentle bull of a man—suck him till he begged for release, ride him slow, then fast and hard, wake up cradled in his arms, linger over morning coffee in his sunny, rustic kitchen, work side by side in that oxygen-rich greenhouse, his quiet presence soothing as she sank her fingers into the soil…
The vision was so clear she jerked in his tender hold. Where the hell did that thought come from?
“What is it, love? Are you uncomfortable? Cold?”
Just spooked by visions of a future that’ll never happen.
With a sigh soaked in regret, she nestled against his chest. “We didn’t even make it to your bedroom.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Got another fireplace in there.” He nibbled the shell of her ear. “And a big, four-poster bed. Next time, I’ll tie you to the posts and lick you until you forget every word but my name.”
She shivered in his arms, half from anticipated pleasure, and half from fear of being tied down—not literally, because being restrained and sweetly tortured by Jesse sounded absolutely thrilling. But if one climax with him—okay, two, almost three if she counted their encounter by his fire pit—anyhow, if this first taste of Jesse’s love reduced her to a boneless, brainless blob, what would happen when her itchy feet pulled her out of his orbit? Could this surprise connection survive a separation? Or would she end up hurting him like she’d hurt Caleb?
Why did he have to be so sweet and attentive? So passionate and sure? Fate was cruel to pick this moment, when her world tumbled and slid beneath her feet, to introduce this dangerous man who tempted her to make promises her vagabond heart could never keep? Jesse held the power to split her soul wide open. Would the Gemma she knew survive?
Chapter Ten
Jesse’spatiencepaidoff.Over the next few weeks, he and Gemma fell into a comfortable rhythm, meeting up daily at the shop to deal with business matters before ducking behind the wooden screen for fevered kisses. Some nights, he joined her at Zora and Marquetta’s for dinner and card games. Other times, he cooked for her before jumping her beautiful bones.
Knowing her distaste for routine, he took care to ravish her in each room of his house—bent over the kitchen table, sprawled on the sofa, slippery under the shower, or tied spread-eagled to his four-poster bed—without a doubt, the hottest sexual experience of his life. As always, she fought to speed his tempo and race toward climax, but she never once used her safe word. Tying her up let him prolong their pleasure and relish every inch of her luscious body with hands, tongue and teeth before finally unleashing himself in a flurry of frantic thrusts that drove them both over the edge. Even now, the memory of her nails raking his back as her inner walls clutched his cock brought an instant hard-on.
Afterward, she’d teased him. “Do you always stock your room with silk scarves for tying up women?”
“Actually, I bought these for you. Don’t you dare tell Annabelle what we used them for. I’ll never be able to face her again.” Come to think of it, the antiques vendor had looked at him funny as she rang up a half dozen scarves. She probably knew.
He kissed his way down to Gemma’s breasts. “Want to try the greenhouse next time? I’ll bring an air mattress.”
Laughing, she ruffled his hair. “As big and rough as you are, we’d pop it for sure.”
“I’ll bring a patch kit.”
The astrology books he’d read warned him that Aquarius women wanted each date to be a new adventure—hard to do with his responsibilities on the farm, plus the extra work to keep Zora’s shop running. But Gemma was worth every meticulous detail. This time around, he’d do whatever it took to hold her interest. Unlike his time with Shauna, he’d never assume Gemma was comfortable and content just because he was.
And he was comfortable. Talking with her, working side by side, sharing companionable meals, even if his cooking was far more boring than her exotic curries and stir-fries—it all came so easily. Secretly, he worried about that old saying—when something seems too good to be true, it probably is. But for now, Gemma hadn’t mentioned plans to leave Trappers Cove. If he could keep her intrigued until after the Esoteric Arts Expo in two weeks, he had a fighting chance.
He rechecked the weather report before packing the last treats for tonight’s date. The angels must be looking out for him because low tide would arrive at the perfect time, allowing them to watch the sunset from Ivan’s Hollow, the hidden cove where he’d first spotted Gemma. Hopefully, the chilly February temps would keep other lovers away, and they’d have the pristine little beach to themselves. In case they got lucky, he’d packed his truck with a thermos of hot tea, a picnic of quesadillas from Ryan’s bar and cookies from Garrett’s bakery, plus firewood, blankets, lube, wipes, and sturdy camp chairs—because everyone who grew up in a coastal town knew the importance of elevating sensitive body parts above the sand.
At four-thirty, he picked Gemma up and thanked Nabila and Janice, who’d agreed to close the shop. Seems he wasn’t the only one eager to convince Gemma to stay in Trappers Cove.
He found her with her delectable ass in the air, bent over a low shelf. After a long moment of ogling and thanking his lucky stars, he cleared his throat. “Evening, Gemma. You ready?”
Grinning, she hopped to her feet. “Let’s go.” She pecked the older women’s cheeks and admonished them, “Now, don’t you let Zora sneak in here while I’m gone. Doc told her two more weeks of relaxing at home.”
Nabila elbowed her friend and saluted. “Aye aye, mon capitaine.”
“Bossy, isn’t she?” Janice added with a wink. “Sure you can handle her?”
Biting her lip, Gemma caught his eye and giggled. Though a take-charge woman in most aspects of her life, she seemed to be enjoying his dominant ways in the bedroom—or whichever room they found themselves in when their clothes came flying off.
He boosted Gemma into his pickup, then drove onto the beach, deserted except for a few anglers. Evening sun gilded the gentle surf. He steered toward the packed sand at the shoreline and around the natural rock wall that separated Ivan’s Hollow from the main beach. Huzzah and hallelujah, the little cove was empty.
“Wow,” Gemma exclaimed as she hopped down. “All this gorgeousness for us?”
“For the next three hours or so. We’ll have to head back if we don’t want to spend the night.” As he hefted their gear from the truck’s bed, he cursed himself for not attaching the camper shell he hadn’t used since taking over the farm.
Gemma made a slowSound of Musicturn, arms wide. “I forgot how beautiful this place is. Haven’t been out here since that summer in high school.”
