Page 16 of Color of Love

“You can keep it if you like, until you get to your…sleepover.” He nearly choked on the word, knowing soon she would be wrapped in the arms of someone else, moaning in ecstasy.

“I’ll be fine now, it’s not far,” she said, and turned away. He pulled the jacket on, trying to ignore the warmth it still held from her body or the lingering cocoa and vanilla scent that enveloped him. He watched her go back to her car, before she turned back, the moonlight bouncing off her hair and showing him those silly cotton pajamas one last time.

“Thank you, Blake,” she said softly, the words reaching him on the breeze. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he watched her, the image of her standing there looking so stunning now tattooed into his brain. He nodded and tugged his helmet on, revved the engine and shot off before he pulled her against him and crushed her mouth to his.

He didn’t sleep that night. He tossed and turned again, this time from picturing Justine, naked and spread wide for him in his bed, begging him, pleading with him to make her come. He got up and had a cold shower, already worked up before the day had even truly started.

*

Justine turned up to the NWS meeting on Monday night absolutely exhausted. Stifling a yawn, she waved hello to a couple of the older women she knew and made her way to the refreshments table, scanning for coffee. She’d hardly gotten any sleep and was suffering for it now. To be fair though, she hadn’t meant to be up quite as late on Saturday, getting to Taylor’s place late thanks to the fox incident. Then she’d spent all of Sunday until late researching PTSD triggers and treatments.

She had also spent most of the weekend trying not to think about her client in an inappropriate way, but it hadn’t gone well. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she get him out of her mind? The way he had looked at her the other night, the moonlight sparkling in his silver eyes, lightening them, bewitching her. His pale skin becoming pearlescent in the moonlight, his features harsh, dark slashes in contrast. He’d looked tragically beautiful, his scowl etched deeply across his face, her reluctant hero. She would bet her life that he only ever considered himself the villain when he was anything but.

He was a complex mix of standoffish but helpful, uncaring but compassionate and he was throwing her through loops. The level of care he had shown for an animal she’d injured had shown her his softer side, and goddamn it was endearing. She’d realized that he wasn’t lost at all, he just needed to be brought back to himself.

She watched as he walked into the village hall for the NWS meeting, a gaggle of ladies rushing him in their eagerness to vie for his attention. She watched him over her mug of steaming coffee as he tried to answer all their questions while his arms were filled with the multiple casseroles they had made him. This helpless, gorgeous, starving new man in town that they needed to look after. Did he even realize what a big hit he was with everyone?

She smiled to herself as she watched him, slipping back into the daydream that had plagued her since Saturday night. The new one where when he’d slammed her up against her car, it was with passion. How good he felt when she’d wrapped her arms around him, holding on as they rode through the night, the muscular wall of his chest hard and unyielding in her grip. Her body was instinctively drawn to him, molding with his as they leaned into the turns of the road together. And the way he’d stared at her before he left her, like he was seconds away from ravaging her sex-starved body, had her fighting shivers but she knew she was just fantasizing again.

Her core throbbed sharply, bringing her back to the present from her daydream. She didn’t understand her attraction to him, he wasn’t what she normally liked, and she needed to nip this in the bud. He was a client, nothing more. She could never cross that line, her ethics wouldn’t allow it, no matter how much her body begged for it. Besides, rebellious leather-wearing bad boys were a phase she grew out of when she was eighteen. She was looking for something different now, something lasting. She wanted a love that set the world on fire.

Blake lifted his head, met her eyes and started disentangling himself from his fan club and headed towards her. Was he walking in slow motion? He was wearing his leather jacket again. God, he looked good in that. She had been wrapped in it the other night, the leather warm from his skin, his scent lingering like spice and hot nights, it was like she was wrapped in him. She shook her head as she fought another shiver. Roll on Ladies’ Night where I can try and find a man to pour all this frustration into.

“Evening Blake,” she said, trying to keep her tone even, once he was in front of her.

“I just thought I’d let you know that I heard from Rebelle about the fox. She’s going to be fine. Just a broken leg and a pretty deep cut in her side that the vet stitched back up,” he replied, not returning her greeting. Straight to the point as usual, that was fine by her, but she still felt a twinge of disappointment at his lack of personal engagement. Maybe that’s another symptom, is he trying to shut himself off from everyone?

She smiled. “That’s great, I’m so relieved, thank you. Which vet was it? I’ll swing by and pay for the treatment.”

He plowed a hand through his hair, fingers snagging on the curls that had started forming. She would love to run her fingers through it, tugging the strands tightly as his lips worked his way down her neck and…

“Don’t worry about it, it’s been taken care of,” he replied gruffly, distracting her from the thoughts that she wasn’t meant to be having anymore.

“What do you mean, it’s been taken care of? Did Rebelle pay for it?” she asked, concerned she’d caused Rebelle undue expense. His mouth flattened into its usual unhappy line.

“No, I covered it,” he said, not meeting her stare. He paid for it? How…sweet. The action really surprised her, it was such a nice thing to do, so at odds with his frankly frequently off-putting personality. She wondered if, try as he might, he cared a lot more about the town and the people in it than he let on.

“Blake, you didn’t need to do that,” she said softly. He shrugged, looking around the room.

“It’s nothing.”

“Let me give you some money for it, it was my fault in the first place and you helped more than enough in the moment. I’m so grateful you turned up when you did,” she said, sincerity coating her words, desperate to try and connect with him. His eyes swung to hers, their color swirling to a dark silver, enthralling her.

“I said it’s nothing.” His tone was standoffish and left no room for argument. With that, he spun on his heel and went over to talk to Dean who had just come in. She stood there, not entirely surprised that when she’d been nice to him, his walls had shot straight back up.

The meeting was called to start a few minutes later and she drifted off into her thoughts. When it was just her and Blake together in the forest, he’d spoken to her, shown a different, caring side of himself. Like being away from everyone and the town, alone with her, had opened him up. She needed to break down those barriers once and for all, and now she had an idea of how to reach him. Shooting him a knowing smile across the table, she knew just what to do to crack this man.

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