Redhead Blitz Page 12

  When she finally relaxed, her body heated and pliant, he pulled her back down to lie next to him. She entwined one leg with his and nestled her cheek on his chest. He kissed the top of her head, hoping to God she didn’t fall asleep. But when her hand slid down to grasp him, he almost sang out. Her fist slid to the base of his penis then up to the tip, pausing there to swirl the drop of moisture over the head with her fingertip. Shit, he was almost gone with one tug.

  Gigi bent over him and licked the head of his penis.

  “Je-sus.” The word flowed out of him on a slow tide of carnal pleasure.

  As she took him into her mouth, the warm texture of her tongue sliding along the bottom of his shaft had him sinking deeper into mindless lust. She took more of him and then retreated, again and again, leaving him gasping for air.

  He’d reached his limit and, wanting them on the journey together, he pulled her away. She tried to lean over him again, but he rolled, reaching for a condom in the top drawer of his nightstand.

  “Let me.” She took the cellophane square and opened it, rolling the condom down his erection so slowly it was painful.

  “Witch,” he teased.

  She gave a soft cackle. “But riding you is so much more fun than my broomstick.” She straddled him and guided his penis to her opening. Then, as she sank onto his length, they hummed in mutual satisfaction. Grasping her hips, he set their pace as she rode, faster, harder, as her bottom bounced on his thighs.

  But it wasn’t enough. Without leaving her, he flipped her onto her back and began driving deep. Her enthusiastic moans spurred him on. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he went harder, deeper, bumping her womb. When she groaned, he backed off.

  “No, don’t.” She grabbed his ass and pressed. “Don’t hold back. I want all of you.” Her words echoed his sentiments. He wanted all of her, with nothing held back, with only their love between them. He increased the intensity of his thrusts, giving her all that he had. Seconds away from orgasm, he felt the coil of anticipation winding tighter and tighter.

  “Oh, God . . . I’m going . . . to come again.” Her bright green eyes flashed amazement and elation. “Come . . . with me.”

  And he did, coming in a rush of physical sensation and emotional clarity. “Gigi.” He almost roared, the frustration of the past weeks thundering from him, draining him of everything except his love for this woman. His body froze above hers, still pouring into her with a release that went on and on. Finally, he collapsed on top of her, holding back part of his weight.

  It seemed eons before his heart rate returned to normal. When it did, he rolled onto his side and disposed of the condom in a wastebasket under his nightstand. Then he pulled Gigi to him in spoon fashion. She covered his hands with hers and, trusting their newly declared love, he slept.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sunlight filtered through the paper accordion shades of Sean’s bedroom. Gigi sipped from her mug of coffee and admired the delicious man sprawled naked across the bed. She was tucked comfortably into a brown plaid chair that sat in the corner by the window. It epitomized Early American Ugly. The man needed new furniture in the worst way.

  After washing up, she’d donned one of his dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up, made coffee and taken a peek around the first floor. Awful furnishings aside——apart from the expensive television in the living room, the place screamed Animal House——the house was quite charming.

  Her gaze returned to Sean. He made his queen-sized bed look small. She smiled, remembering their mutual declarations of love and last-night’s love-making. Never had she felt any measure of contentment close to this. But never before had she been in love.

  As her gaze drifted to the covered window, she wondered what was happening with Al and Annie. They’d both been so unhappy. Whatever the outcome, she hoped her neighbor returned soon. She missed her.

  “Hey.” Sean’s voice was gravelly as he pushed up on his elbows. “Do I smell coffee?”

  “You do.” She moved to the side of the bed and held her mug out to him. He took a couple sips and then stretched to set it on the nightstand.

  “You know, as much as I love that first cup of coffee in the morning, I’d love waking up with you in my arms even more.” He patted the bed beside him. “You’re too far away.”

  She took one step back. “Not this time. If I get any closer we both know what will happen.” She grinned. “I’m starving and I’ve got pancake batter ready to go.” She headed toward the door. “Meet me in the kitchen.”

  Minutes later, as she stood by the stove, Sean’s hands twined around her from behind. The man was semi-aroused already. Turning in his arms, she kissed him. He tasted of toothpaste and coffee. The kiss deepened before she remembered her task.

  “Whoops.” She pushed him away and hurriedly flipped the browning pancakes. “You get the plates.”

  Later, as they finished eating, Sean was noticeably quiet. He’d polished off seven pancakes, so she didn’t think her cooking was the problem. Something else was causing his uncharacteristic reserve.

  She grasped the back of his hand, curling her fingertips into his palm. “What’s wrong?”

  He pushed his plate away and met her gaze. “I hope you’ll forgive me for this.”

  And before she could ask what he needed to be forgiven for, he knelt next to her chair. Surprise and shock held her unmoving.

  “I wanted to do this in some romantic setting. You deserve the best, with me wearing a suit and not just a pair of boxers, but I don’t want to wait another minute.” He took her hands in his and all her worry dissolved. “Will you marry me, Gigi? I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up with you each morning.”

  With his chin lowered, he studied her face. “We can have a long engagement, no problem. Or we could fly to Vegas next weekend. Whatever you want. But at the very least, I want you to move in with me. Today, if you’re willing. I love you and having you here would make me happy.”

  Tears of joy blurred her vision, and she threw her arms around his neck. Moving in would made her happy, too.

  “That depends.” Her boundless joy spilled over into a bit of teasing. “Would I have carte blanche about what stays and what goes?” She straightened and gestured at the rickety table and mismatched chairs.

  He laughed and rose to his feet, pulling her into his arms. “All I want is you, Gigi.” They kissed long and hard. And afterwards, taking advantage of her breathlessness, he added, “Just you and my television.”

  The End

  If you’d like to read Heidi and Rafe’s story, look for SERVICING RAFFERTY at SamhainPublishing.com or wherever you buy electronic romance books.

  As my way of thanking you for purchasing REDHEAD BLITZ, on the next page I’ve included the following bonus vignette. Enjoy! - Janie

  WORTH THE WAIT

  By

  Janie Mason

  “What in the world have I done?” Annie Marcum didn’t know what had caused her steak of impetuousness. Some weird allergic reaction? An astrological phenomenon? Temporary insanity brought on by standing too close to microwaves? This recklessness had started weeks ago and was still going strong.

  Staring into the bathroom mirror, she barely recognized herself. Ordinarily, she would have bet her favorite pair of reading glasses—and wasn’t that depressing—that she was the most level-headed person within a five-hundred mile radius of Greenville, Ohio. So what in God’s name had possessed her to cross the threshold of the Hot Hair Salon and tell the stylist to go for it?

  She fingered the tips of her light brown hair. It was so short. Well, not as short as a man’s cut, but weekend pony tails were a thing of the past. The layered cut had looked great on the model in the magazine, but Annie didn’t know whether she’d ever get used to it. She’d worn either a French twist or a pony tail since Josh was born twenty-six years ago.

  “Are you insane?” she asked her reflection. You’re a forty-seven year old widow, not a twenty something fashion mo
del.” She continued fingering her hair, still stunned that the stylist had been able to talk her into adding blond highlights to the medium brown color she’d used for years.

  “People aren’t going to recognize you.” But as she said the words, they sunk in like an anchor tossed into the sea. Would that be such a bad thing? She figured if she was sick of herself the way she was, maybe other people were, too.

  Still toying with her hair, she tried to study her appearance through a stranger’s eyes. The blond highlights did make her look as if she’d spent the summer months outside in the sunshine rather than in an office under fluorescent lighting. Her complexion was fresh and healthy, due in part to the long walks she’d been taking in the hills surrounding the cabin. And although there was no scale in the bathroom, the looseness of her slacks confirmed she’d lost weight in the past few weeks. Too bad she’d had to go through a major identity crisis for that to happen.

  She flipped off the overhead light, went out to the great room and tossed another log into the stone fireplace. Lately she’d had trouble keeping warm. Since the cabin was nestled amongst the thick woods of Hocking Hills, tomorrow morning she’d have to either hike along the road or down the trail to the lake to soak in any sunshine.

  With dusk approaching, Annie tilted all the interior shutters closed and heated a can of soup. It was hard to be inspired, cooking for one. Later she poured a second glass of wine and curled up in her dad’s ancient leather chair, anticipating yet another quiet evening with no solid ideas about what direction her life should take.

  Lost in memories, she let herself become entranced by the flames. Quitting her assistant’s job at the high school had been the Mount Everest of knee-jerk reactions. But something inside her had snapped when she’d heard Al preaching his sermon about the sins of inter-office relationships to poor Sean Fitzgerald. She’d waited until she and Al were alone in the office to make her thoughts on the matter known, but her whirling emotions had skyrocketed like a launched missile. Loose lips sink ships; wasn’t that the truth. In a matter of minutes, her unguarded words had changed the course of her life and here she was, metaphorically drifting at sea in a leaky lifeboat.

  In an attempt to blink away reality, she turned on her e-book reader and watched the small screen flicker to life. But although the romantic suspense novel was well written, she couldn’t fix her mind on anything other than the uncertainty of her situation. No job, with no real desire to search for another. Not that she needed to right away. She’d invested the insurance money after Jack’s death wisely and tended toward frugality, so finding employment wasn’t urgent. If Josh wasn’t so busy, she’d fly out to Scottsdale to visit her son. But this was his company’s year end and, as a CPA, he was putting in a lot of overtime. Maybe she should look into taking some classes. But as quickly as the idea came, it fizzled. Some adults enjoyed the challenge of college classes, but Annie had no desire to become a student again.

  She set her e-book reader and glasses aside, pulled the plackets of her cardigan together and allowed the crackling fire to lull her to sleep.

  Al Matthews cursed the darkness for the hundredth time and switched on the bright setting of his headlights. Unfortunately, with trees lining both sides of the gravel road, this stretch looked exactly the same as the previous mile. Earlier, when he’d finally realized his Mapquest directions were as helpful as a bullhorn at a funeral, he’d stopped to ask the way. The old man behind the counter at Martha’s Bait and Videos had been near impossible to understand with that mouth full of chewing tobacco. Al thought he’d caught second left and right at the V in the road, but now he wouldn’t wager a dime that he’d correctly interpreted the fellow’s garbles. There hadn’t been another car along the road since he’d started out again, and if he didn’t see anything within the next minute, he was turning back.

  What was Annie thinking, staying out in the sticks all by herself? Al didn’t care if it was her brother’s weekend retreat. She could be unconscious, or bleeding, or screaming her head off and no one would know.

  Oh, that’s great, Al. Scare yourself shitless, why don’t you? He willed her to be alright as he squinted into the night. If anything happened to Annie, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. After all, he was the reason she’d up and quit. He shouldn’t have argued with her. The fact that she’d called him on the carpet—which his Annie rarely did—should have been a sign something was up. Then she’d blown him away—assuming she’d said what he thought she’d said—and taken off before he’d been able to string three words together.

  Al slammed on his brakes as a fat opossum scurried across the road, the car’s tires skidding in the gravel. The road was deserted, so he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Maybe he should have waited until morning to try to find the cabin.

  No, every second that Annie spent alone in this God-forsaken wilderness was one too many. Hell, there was a state penitentiary in the neighboring county. What if some escaped convict stumbled upon the cabin and—

  Shit, you’re doing it again. She’s okay. Maybe if he said it enough times it would be true.

  When I find her I’m going to . . . What? He sat up and shook his head in frustration. Throw her over his shoulder and drag her back to civilization? Okay, no. Physical contact—anything more than a casual touch—had never figured into their relationship. Not that he hadn’t thought about it often enough. Thousands of times.

  Damn it. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he found her. He’d imagined one scenario after another during the drive, but none of them felt right. And when he’d turned off the state road and had to really concentrate on spotting the place, he’d given up on planning.

  Wanting to assure himself that there weren’t any escaped convicts roaming the area, he switched on the radio. As bluegrass music suddenly filled the car, he spotted a light flickering through the trees to his right.

  Looking for a way in, Al put the car in reverse and backed up enough to see a narrow drive, not much more than twin paths of mud running off into the trees. This had to be it. If it wasn’t, he could at least ask the inhabitants if they knew where Rick’s cabin was.

  But as he approached the residence, his tension ebbed. There sat Annie’s distinctive white convertible, parked out in front. As he threw his SUV into park, he studied the cabin. More substantial than he’d anticipated, the getaway was built up on a stone foundation with real log siding, a heavy wooden door and a front porch that spanned the full width of the place. The light he’d seen shone from an overhead fixture on the porch and the windows were covered with what appeared to be interior wooden shutters. Someone would have to work pretty hard to get in without an invitation.

  Now all he had to worry about was getting himself invited inside.

  Annie awoke to tires skidding on gravel. The hair on her arms stood up, prickling under the sleeves of her cotton sweater. Rick hadn’t been entirely comfortable with her staying out here all alone. She’d had to remind him she was no longer his baby sister before he’d handed over the keys. Still, when he returned from his business trip she’d encourage him to install some additional exterior lighting.

  She got up to peek through one of the shutters. An SUV headed down the driveway, similar in size to the type Al drove. But it couldn’t be him. Thank goodness.

  Al. Annie felt the corn chowder in her stomach roil. Could she ever look him in the eye again? She’d ended her tirade the day she quit by stupidly admitting she was in love with him. His only response had been to stare at her in horror. Talk about wanting to crawl under a rock. She’d taken off. Within an hour he’d left her four messages demanding she return his calls, but hearing his voice had torn something inside her chest. She’d stopped listening to his messages.

  The SUV halted next to her car. Annie moved to recheck the lock on the cabin door. She wouldn’t open it to anyone she didn’t know. Problem was it couldn’t possibly be anyone she did know. Josh was too busy at work to be here, Rick was in Atlanta and no one e
lse had any idea where she was. Well, Gigi knew she was in the Hocking Hills, but she wouldn’t know how to find the cabin. She switched off the lamp by her chair. If she pretended no one was home, perhaps whoever it was would eventually go away.

  The sound of a car door closing was followed seconds later by heavy treads on the porch steps. There was a loud knock on the door and then a silent pause. Annie sat in the darkened room, her gaze shifting between the flickering fire and the front door. Another knock sounded, but this time it was followed by a familiar voice.

  “Annie, it’s Al.”

  Oh, no. If she’d been standing she might have fainted from mortification. Instinctively she curled tighter and didn’t make a sound. How had he found her? But the answer was obvious enough. Gigi. Her neighbor had promised not to tell anyone, but Annie knew firsthand it was hard to say no to Al Matthews. Especially if Gigi had gotten her old job. That must be it. He must have found out Gigi was her neighbor and intimidated her into giving him the address.

  But I’m not ready to face him. She’d made a complete fool of herself. There was no way she was going to let him in.

  “Annie, I know you’re in there. That’s your car and there’s smoke coming out of the chimney.” He knocked for what seemed like minutes, but was probably only seconds, before all was quiet again.

  She reached for her glass and swallowed the remainder of her wine in one gulp. It did nothing to calm her nerves or diminish the formidable urge to respond. The idea of not complying with Al’s demand was totally foreign to her nature. She’d been the man’s assistant for the last ten years and had become so adept at meeting his professional needs she could anticipate them.