Page 24 of Rainwater
“It’s not pity, hell! What else could you feel for me, Jennifer?” He laughed harshly.
“How about compassion, Corey? What’s so wrong with old-fashioned compassion? You protected me. You stopped Jay from hitting me in the face. They beat you, stole your money and smashed your motorcycle because of me, because of what you did for me. I’m grateful. I want to thank you.”
“Grateful?” he said bitterly.
“That’s not a nasty word, Corey. What do you want me to feel?”
The air suddenly stilled in the barn. His body was so taut and immobile that Jennifer felt a slight bit of panic. The tension built slowly, becoming almost tangible. She shivered inside when she looked at him again. The shadows cast his tight muscles in relief as though he were a living statue, a magnificent work of art.
His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened with hunger. What had she inadvertently said? She never should have asked him what he wanted her to feel. She could see him fighting himself, warring with the need that had manifested itself the moment she had met those turquoise eyes. It whispered in the still air like the soft voice of seduction.
He moved forward and grabbed her, pulling her body close to his. His eyes darkened further with pain and bitterness, need and a helpless plea. “This, Jennifer! I want you to feel this.” His mouth captured hers, his kiss savage and hard. A bruising pleasure that Jennifer opened to—unable to deny the passion building inside of her. Passion they both denied.
In the stillness of the loft, every little sound seemed to intensify. She could hear the soft cooing of the doves in the rafters, the stomping of horses below her, the gentle play of the wind through the open door. And at the sound of the wind, she panicked. Suddenly she was afraid that she would feel him slip through her fingers and disappear like the elusive wind. She clasped him tighter, never wanting to let him go. It had been so long since she’d held a man.
His breathing was harsh in the silence, telling of a man who had fought himself for days and nights in anguished loneliness. In sheer desperation. His kiss said it all. His hard hands on her upper arms broadcast the unreasonable desire that had sprung between them.
He probably would never believe her, but she knew about that loneliness. She had lived with it for a long time, but she had had Ellie to keep her company. He had no one and the rigid torture in his posture spoke more loudly than his words ever could. The need to soothe and comfort rushed over her with powerful, fierce need. This man had done everything he could not to shatter her peace. He’d reined in his desire so that he wouldn’t hurt her when he left. Because she was sure that he wanted her even before now. He’d wanted her last night in her driveway when he had taunted her into anger. Anger that had sent him away.
Lost in her need, she fought the rough hold of his arms, but not for him to release her and step back, but to let her go so that she could hold him closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him as tight as he was holding her. His ravenous mouth moved from her lips down her neck, gently sucking her skin, making deep masculine noises in the back of his throat that took her control away.
His large hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her engorged nipples. She groaned softly and she felt him shudder and tremble.
His answering groan brought her back to reality with a jolt. What was she doing? She couldn’t, wouldn’t allow this! With all her might, she pushed against his chest.
Immediately he let her go and stumbled backward, sitting down heavily on a bale of hay.
Her mouth stung and tingled and she wanted that pressure back. She wanted to explore his chest with her hands, but the ravaged look on his face and her own common sense kept her immobile.
In a voice filled with self-loathing, his eyes bruised with unbearable pain, he said, “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Her breathing was still ragged.
He clutched his ribs, doubling over. “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t make me want to stay.”
“I need a foreman. That’s all, Corey.”
“You don’t want me.”
“You could help me for just a little while. It would help you out and get me through calving.” She felt relieved that her heated body was finally cooling down. But her hands still trembled from the force of their passion. “I need a foreman, Corey,” she repeated. “The work is too much for me. I can’t be in two places at one time. I can’t run the ranch and be a mother to Ellie. That is all that is important to me.”
“You don’t want me,” he said again, his breathing equally ragged.
“Why? Why wouldn’t I want you?”
He refused to look at her and he refused to answer.
“Corey, what are you running from?”
“Do yourself a favor, don’t ask me any questions.” He dropped his face into his hands, then raked his hair back from his face.
“You’re running from something,” she said again stubbornly, wanting answers even though she knew they would probably not be what she wanted to hear.
“I’m not running from anything.”Except maybe myself, he thought silently. Yeah, that was most definitely it. He was running from himself, but it was like running in quicksand.
“What was that kiss all about? Why did you do that?”
He wanted to say a thousand things.Because I want you more than I want to breathe. I want you crying out hot and wet into my mouth. I want to connect with you. I want to touch you where no other man has ever touched you.
