“Ah, Lauren, Lauren.” Her name was half-sigh, half-groan before his mouth melted into hers. He kissed her hungrily, wildly, while his hands sought the hem of her nightgown and raised it past her waist, her quivering breasts, over her head, and flung it away.
Raising his head, he looked deeply into her bright eyes as he lifted her hand. He kissed the palm ardently, teasing it with his tongue. Without taking his eyes away from hers, he drew her hand beneath the covers and placed it over his awakened manhood. He studied her reaction, fearing that she would be repelled. Jealously he watched the tip of her tongue disappear between her lips after nervously wetting them.
Don’t be afraid of loving this man, Maria had told her. Don’t be afraid. Her slender fingers closed around the warm shaft with its velvet skin stretched smooth. Gently her fingers played over him, curious, wondering fingers, fingers made exultant by their discoveries.
Reflexively Jared arched his back. His head went back in a gesture of exquisite feeling. Then his chin lowered and he was searching her face again. His golden eyes shone bright with emotion. “Touch me, Lauren. Touch me until I die from the pleasure of it. Know all of me.” His voice was breathy and uneven.
Emboldened by his impassioned plea, she stroked and caressed until she found the smooth spearhead lubricated with the precious nectar of his desire. “Oh, God,” he groaned as he lowered himself over her and took her mouth under his. His hands found her breasts and massaged them in rhythm to her own caresses. He squeezed the soft mounds gently while his thumbs appreciated the aroused centers.
For Lauren, every vestige of reluctance, doubt, and mistrust disappeared as she thrilled to the mysteries of her husband’s body. Instinct instructed her in the best ways to show her admiration, and she was rewarded with his urgent, whispered words of praise and encouragement. Her hands glided over the firm muscles of his buttocks, down the hard thighs, up the sinewy back. She touched him unafraid. Imitating him, she kissed him passionately, using her mouth and tongue to explore his thoroughly.
His mouth and fingers were gentle stimulants that tormented her mercilessly. Relentlessly they trailed her neck, chest, breasts, and stomach, until she was making small whimpering sounds that surprised him as much as they shocked her.
“Put your hands around my neck,” he instructed as he rose above her. His fingers found her feminine threshold moist and pliant and trembling. She tightened around his fingers like warm, closing petals as they entered that haven. He withdrew a fraction and stroked her lightly, but the mere touch struck her like a lightning bolt.
Her eyes opened wide in astonishment as she began to writhe uncontrollably. “Jared—” she gasped.
He replaced the seeking fingers with his tumescent shaft. Guided by his own hand, it rubbed against her, that magic spot, until she didn’t think she could bear the pleasure any longer. She felt herself swelling, reaching out to him, opening, squeezing, dying brief little deaths to know his magnificence fully.
Jared, who before now had boasted of his sexual prowess, learned from the woman moving with him in such perfect tempo that he had known nothing of lovemaking. Not until he saw her face radiant with joy as she reached the peak of fulfillment under his manipulation did he realize the immense satisfaction of giving. Then he filled her completely, giving her all of himself, leaving no room for the frustration and fear that had come between them.
She clung to him tenaciously, matching his ardor, his fervent kisses that deepened even as he delved into her. In one shattering instant, they met on a plane where joy replaced sorrow, trust reduced uncertainty to insignificance, unity conquered loneliness, and indecision became commitment.
After the tumult, they held each other tightly, still unable to comprehend the upheaval of emotions that continued to race through them. Jared looked into her face and smoothed the ebony tendrils from her temples. Satiated, he slid down her body to cushion his head on her breasts. He kissed them lightly in turn, flicking his tongue over the rosy nipples, swollen and agitated with their recent lovemaking. “Beautiful, beautiful woman,” he sighed.
He laid his head on that welcoming pillow. He was almost asleep, drugged by the fragrance of her dewy skin, when he heard her voice coming from far away and whispering, “Jared, I love you.”
* * *
It continued to snow until noon the next day. The accumulation was in excess of six inches, which was unusual for that part of Texas. The world, from the view of those in the ranch house at Keypoint, appeared to be covered by a vast blanket, white, clean, pristine, and soft.
The bedroom occupied by Lauren and Jared was off-
limits to the other occupants of the house. When the two failed to come to breakfast, and Gloria noted that Jared’s coat still hung on the bracket by the door—evidence that he had not gone out to the bunkhouse the night before—she was thrilled. She forbade Rudy or any of the children to go anywhere near the bedroom. Rudy was amused by her protectiveness, but at the same time glad that his brother was finally sleeping with his beautiful, neglected wife. He would tease him later, away from Gloria’s hearing.
The two people in the closed bedroom were totally unconcerned about any of the others in the house. In fact, they had not given them a conscious thought, so absorbed were they in each other. After sleeping for a while, they talked long hours about themselves. Lauren told him of her lonely childhood with a remote, undemonstrative father. Jared, in turn, reminisced about Ben, and about his slain friend Alex.
In the months they had known each other, they had never discussed personal things, except for that one brief conversation in the library in Coronado. Now they talked of trivialities—food preferences, favorite things, aversions and fears, birthdays—revealing the bits and pieces of themselves that made them what they were.
Early in the afternoon, there was a light tap on the door. The entwined figures on the wide bed moved but slightly, resentful of anything that separated them by more than inches. Jared muttered to himself as he crept out of the covers and crossed to the door. He was quite unashamed of his nakedness, and Lauren gloried in his physique with equally unashamed interest.
“What is it?” he asked through the heavy door.
There was no answer. He opened the door a crack and peeped around it. No one was there. Then he began to chuckle.
Lauren sat up, puzzled by his amusement. He knelt down and picked up a tray laden with food and drink. He closed the door with his foot before bearing the repast to the bed.
Lauren saw a platter of light, fluffy eggs, thick slices of ham, biscuits and tortillas dripping with butter, a pot of coffee, and even a decanter of whiskey, along with plates, napkins, cutlery, and glasses.
“Remind me to thank Gloria later,” Jared said as he bit into a tortilla. They ate until they were filled, and he removed the tray from the bed. They had opened the drapes earlier to enjoy the sight of the snow-covered hills. Now he went to the windows and closed the drapes, dimming the room.
He stretched like a lazy mountain cat and yawned broadly.
“Am I boring you?” Lauren asked mischievously as she twirled a curl around her finger then dropped it precariously close to a pouting nipple.
His footsteps, hurried because of the cold, slowed as he came closer to the bed. He placed one knee on the mattress, eyed her provocatively, and drawled, “Could be. What are you going to do about it?”
Lauren’s flushed face became impish as she retorted, “Nothing!” and flopped to the opposite side of the bed, providing him an unrestricted view of her smooth back, tapering to the gentle swell of her hips.