Page 46 of Rainwater
Jennifer looked into his face, noting the signs of strain even the laughter couldn’t melt away. “Well, isn’t that a coincidence? I need to touch you,” she said. She smiled, warmed by the grin that flashed across his face.
Run. The word echoed in her head and she remembered only hours ago she’d heeded his words and run back to the house. When she had reached the bright lights of home, she had locked herself in her bathroom until her ragged breathing stilled. She had been up against the barn and if he had stripped her naked and taken her there, she would have let him. She had shaken from the memory of the amazing passion that sprang between them every time they were together. It was unnerving and just a little scary.
No. It was too late for her to run. Much too late.
She was on the verge of falling for him harder than she would have ever dreamed. She was committed, whether or not he wanted her to be, and sadly, she couldn’t go back. She knew he was going to hurt her by leaving and she still couldn’t stopthe need to give him all that she had to give. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.
She led the way back to the cottage. “Do you want me to touch you on the couch or the bed?”
His eyebrows rose and she laughed. “Now who’s being naughty?” she asked playfully.
“The bed will be fine.” He smiled, leading her up the stairs to his bedroom.
“So accommodating,” she teased as she went into his bathroom and got moisturizing cream out of the medicine cabinet. When she returned, she noticed the cloth-covered canvas and her heart contracted. She walked over to it. “Corey?” He glanced up, his eyes narrowing.
“No, Jennifer. It’s not ready for you to see yet.”
Was that panic in his voice? she thought suddenly. “Will it ever be?” she asked matter-of-factly.
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know. It’s a very special painting.”
“Corey, I noticed the destroyed painting in the trash. Are you trying to make this one perfect?”
He shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with her question. “This one is infinitely different from that one. I just wasn’t happy with the way the other one turned out.”
“Do you always slash them like that? It looks as if you did it in anger.”
She’d never seen his expression so closed, so remote and emotionless. “Do you want me to drop this?”
“Yes. I need you, Jennifer. I don’t want to talk. I want to feel your hands touching me.” He turned so that he was in profile.
The deep blue-black of his hair gleamed from the overhead light in the room. It was one of his most beautiful features, like warm black silk heated from the inside out. Through the opening of his unbuttoned shirt, she could see the hard planes ofhis chest. She couldn’t stop her gaze from traveling down to his navel and to the dark hair that disappeared into his tight jeans.
His voice deepened. “I like it when you touch me.”
Abruptly he turned to face her, his expression stark with truth. “I enjoy talking to you and listening to your velvet voice. I love watching your face in passion and anger. You are one of the most honest people I know. I admire the way you’ve raised your daughter alone. And you’ve done a damn good job. Putting your life back together after the way you were betrayed couldn’t have been easy. The courage it must have taken amazes me. I wish I had that kind of strength.” He put his hands on his hips and bowed his head. “Ah God, Jenny darlin’, I’ve been alone a long, long time. I never realized it until now. Until I met you.”
He sounded weary, yet not defeated. Pride still burned in his eyes. He was a man who took charge and dammed all consequences. He was a maverick. A loner.
An outlaw.
Her outlaw.
His heartfelt declaration jarred something loose in her chest, and she realized all of a sudden that she didn’t even know the meaning of the wordlonely. She couldn’t fathom what it was like to have absolutely no one to turn to. A huge wave of despair rolled over her. She understood how much it had taken for him to utter those words. She locked her jaw, the tenderness welling in her chest for this proud, battered man. It was all she could do not to cry.
She stood awkwardly, fiddling with the top of the cream. “Do you want me to take your shirt off?”
For a full minute he stared at her, his eyes burning brightly in the darkness. His body language said loud and clear that he wanted her. His expression also spoke volumes of how much he appreciated her not voicing the tender emotions flittering acrossher expressive face. “No, I’ll do it,” he said gruffly. He took his shirt off and laid it over a chair. “Just one thing before you start.”
“What?”
“Don’t touch the back of my neck. I’m very…sensitive there.”
“You mean it turns you on?” The knowledge that the back of his neck was one of his erogenous zones explained the way he’d acted that day she was looking at his stitches. She’d aroused him with only a touch. The knowledge sang through her blood with fiery notes of passion.
He looked down and she could see the effort it took him to fight his need for her. His fists clenched and he took a deep breath. “I love it when you touch me there.” Taking deep breaths, he swung away from her.
“Corey, maybe I should go.”
