Aaron was making a Herculean effort to focus on the shitload of work that needed accomplishing before tomorrow morning. When the sun came up, there would be scads of staffers, volunteers, interns, and press, all looking at him for direction, and he refused to be unprepared. Unfortunately, every time his attention strayed to the clock in the lower-right-hand corner of his laptop screen, the urge to phone Peggy made his eye twitch speed up to triple time.
Honestly, what could three girls get up to in this low-key part of Iowa?
He never should have asked himself that question, because his mind had conjured up farm boys and house parties and shenanigans in the hay. He’d anticipated them being back hours ago, after discovering how little nightlife was available in the area, but no. Midnight had descended without so much as a courtesy text message from his sister, who would be hearing all about that oversight in the morning.
He knew Peggy well. Knew she’d dressed Grace up like walking sex to drive him fucking insane, dangling her like a carrot in front of his face, before jerking her away. God, her thighs. Her thighs. He could smell the combination of her sex and whatever lotion she’d rubbed on them. Could feel the smooth texture against his lips. If they’d had enough time in the Suburban before leaving, if he’d been given the slightest opportunity to lick her pussy, it would have been like sinking into a slice of sun-heated watermelon after two months in the desert.
And she could be anywhere right about now, fresh from telling him to shut the fuck up. Probably being presented with a variety of male options that didn’t treat her like a child. Or dry hump her until she was begging, then walk away, leaving her primed and confused. Didn’t matter that they couldn’t have a physical relationship for a multitude of reasons. His job, her past, and how those two things intersected. The vast difference in the way they lived their lives, treated people, viewed the world. None of that meant shit when Aaron didn’t know her whereabouts. Was she safe? Had he finally succeeded in putting the kibosh on any attraction she felt for him?
Shut the fuck up. She’d looked…beyond beautiful when she’d said those words to him. Fierce, sexy, challenging. Why hadn’t he yanked her out of the Suburban when he’d had the chance? Instead of spending the night memorizing her voice, her mannerisms, he’d cursed through the process of pitching a tent in the mess hall, aware that sharing a cabin with Grace was bad news, whether or not his siblings slept nearby. Yeah, he was that depraved. That desperate to get Grace’s thighs up around his waist, to hear her whine for him to pump faster in his ear.
Beneath his laptop, Aaron’s cock grew thicker, the heavy flesh pressing against his right thigh. He’d grudgingly resigned himself to self-pleasure, sliding a hand down the front of his sweatpants, when Belmont crouched down in the tent’s entrance. Aaron jolted and retrieved his hand with a lightning-fast move, his daydream starring Grace in nothing but stockings busting into fragments.
“Jesus.” Aaron settled the laptop more firmly over his arousal, keeping it hidden. “You could have announced yourself.”
Belmont didn’t comment on Aaron’s reproof. In fact, it seemed like the farthest thing from his mind as he stood and began to pace, leaving Aaron with the view of his brother’s legs. “They should have been back by now.”
Aaron sighed and shoved the laptop aside, his erection waning at the reminder Grace could be experiencing the goofy courtship of some local farmhand named Josh. Or Brady. “Yeah, I know. Peggy won’t answer my texts.”
“She’s doing it on purpose.”
“No shit.” Aaron watched his brother pace a minute, before climbing out of the tent to go join him. Even after hours spent in the cramped Suburban and sharing rooms in both New Mexico and Iowa, it was weird spending time with Belmont. Talking to him. Their conversations had been sparing and stilted before their mother died, but since then, they’d ceased altogether. He wasn’t even sure where to start. Or if he should start at all. “Give them another half hour and we’ll take the van down the mountain.”
“Ten minutes.”
Aaron nodded, relieved someone else was in the mood to be irrational. “Fine. Ten minutes.” He leaned back against one of the few cafeteria tables they’d decided to keep and crossed his arms. “If it makes you feel any better, I think Sage is probably the least likely to paint the town red.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Okay, then.” Aaron reached into the tent and brought out his electric lantern, setting it on the table behind him. “When did you meet Sage anyway? I’m blurry on all the sordid details.”
Belmont stopped his back and forth stalking in favor of staring out the large picture window, out into the forest. “Nothing sordid about it,” he rumbled. “She could never be sordid.”
Yeah, definitely shouldn’t have attempted this brotherly talk. Aaron grabbed his lantern and started to duck down, intending to climb back into the tent and resume his work, but Belmont spoke, halting his progress.
“Peggy asked me to walk her down the aisle. She was marrying the first guy. The Padres fan.” He rubbed the crease of his chin. “Sage…she was planning the wedding. And I didn’t do well at the rehearsal. Didn’t want to hurt Peggy’s feelings by saying no, but I’m not…it’s not—”
“I get it,” Aaron cut in, knowing the rest. Knowing his brother didn’t like attention of any manner. Didn’t like having the spotlight directed at him, nor did he like being put in a position to interact with unfamiliar people. Basically, Aaron’s polar opposite. “You don’t have to explain.”
“Sage,” Belmont continued on, as if Aaron hadn’t spoken. “She has this way of…slowing my heartbeat down, speeding it up, slowing it down again. Is that normal?”
Thinking of Grace, how she commanded his senses like a maestro, Aaron sat, running a hand over his stubbled face. “No, it’s not normal. But in yours and Sage’s case, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I think you should let her.”
“No.” His brother, usually so stoic and unmoved by anything he said, turned on Aaron with dawning horror. “No, I can’t.”
“Okay,” Aaron said carefully. “Why not?”
Again, Belmont circumvented Aaron’s direct question. “I didn’t mean to…gather her up so no one else could have her. I shouldn’t have let myself do that.” Slowly, he drew a hand up and laid it over his heart. “She touched me here in the back of the church, and now she decides if it goes fast or slow.” Aaron could barely remain upright under the force of the look Belmont dropped on his head. “What if she decides to make it stop?”
This was important. Right there, in the almost dark of the mess hall, Aaron finally had some insight into the way Belmont’s mind worked, finally had the chance to aid him in some small way. That was what Aaron did. He was the solution guy. But when it really counted, he came up completely empty. Because he feared there was a ribbon-haired girl out there who might just have the power to stop his most vital organ from beating. He might even force her into it. “I don’t know,” Aaron murmured.
And son of a bitch if that wasn’t—by some unseen twist—the right answer. Aaron watched in disbelief as Belmont smiled, a smile so fleeting it could have been his imagination, but it sent a rush of childhood noise blowing through Aaron’s consciousness. “Okay.” His brother gave a firm nod. “If you don’t know, there is no way of knowing.”
“You have that much confidence in me?” Aaron managed, positive he’d fallen asleep back in the tent and dreamed the whole conversation.
But he couldn’t have imagined it, because Belmont’s hand on his shoulder was too heavy, too solid. The slight increase of pressure too real as he passed on his way out of the mess hall. When he heard his brother’s boots scrape to a stop at the door, he didn’t lift his head. Wasn’t capable. “I was glad to see your face that day at the top of the well,” Belmont said, so quietly Aaron almost didn’t make out the words. “I was glad. But I knew I couldn’t be the person you looked up to anymore.”
Aaron pushed to his feet, intent on demanding a full explanation of that bullshit, but the sound of the Suburban pulling up, feminine voices filling the night, broke them both of the spell. Belmont, the tension draining from his shoulders, nodded at Aaron, who had no choice but to return it.
* * *
Seduction was a tricky business. Truthfully, it went against Grace’s nature. She didn’t believe in swaying people toward a choice they wouldn’t normally make. Distaste for that very practice had driven a wedge between her and Aaron. Which was how she’d drawn the conclusion that fighting fire with fire was her only option. She’d shined a light on their differences; now she would redirect it. Show him where they met in the middle, where they connected. And then she would build on it. Fight one war at a time. She refused to see tonight as a setting aside of her beliefs. Not when they might reach Aaron on the other side of the battlefield.
The light inside the mess hall beckoned, but Grace hung back, needing to garner every spare ounce of confidence in her arsenal. Seducing a man like Aaron—a born seducer himself—wouldn’t be easy. If she showed him a speck of doubt or gave him room to shut her out, he would do it. He would retreat so fast her head would spin. That certainty was just one example of how well she already knew him. Setting up camp in the mess hall had been his way of sending a message. You are there. And I am here.
Not for long, bucko.
Trying to banish the image of Aaron ushering her out of the hall and back to the cabin like an annoying ward, Grace started up the steps. The walls were coming down tonight and she needed to believe Aaron wanted that eventuality. God knew she wanted to feel nothing between them. Not clothing, not hurt, not the incessant ding-ding of the bad idea meter. In her experience, risks not taken meant rewards never received. And bone-deep intuition resonated within Grace, a knowing that she and Aaron didn’t have a short road, but a long, winding one. If she had to take a shortcut to get them pointed in the right direction, so be it.
With that mission roosting in the nest of her mind, Grace entered the mess hall and walked without hurry toward the tent. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. Taking deep breaths, Grace ran shaking hands up the insides of her thighs, beneath her suede skirt, encountering the uncovered flesh above her stockings, remembering Aaron’s mouth there. How his greedy tongue had flattened on her skin, tasting, his full lips sliding back and forth. He wanted her then. He would now.
The red wine still flowed through her veins, making it seem entirely natural to drag a thumb across crotch of her panties, feeling her nipples plump, her breathing grow short. But the blaring of her pulse was interrupted by the sound of typing. Clack, clack, clack. Aaron’s fingers. So capable in so many ways.
With a concerted effort, Grace dropped her hands from beneath her skirt, pushed her winter wind-tousled hair over her shoulder, and ducked into the small tent. She’d meant to move fluidly toward Aaron, to negate his chance to list all the reasons why she shouldn’t be there, but his appearance brought Grace up short. His lower half was inside a red sleeping bag, but his upper half…yowza. He wore a white, long-sleeved thermal shirt that had to be a couple sizes too small, judging from the way its material wrapped tightly around his swelled biceps, his toned chest. As if that wasn’t enough to render Grace mute, he wore a black beanie, pulled low over his eyes. Eyes that were sending a clear message toward where she knelt at the tent’s entrance.
What the fuck are you doing here?
Yeah. That’s what Aaron wanted to project. And he would have been doing a bang-up job if his Adam’s apple hadn’t gotten stuck beneath his chin, those long-fingered hands gripping the laptop like a shield. Grace could see right through him in that moment, as if he’d stepped in front of an x-ray machine that displayed intention, instead of injury. Right now, his intention was to turn her down.
“I’ve never seen you in pajamas,” Grace whispered. “I thought you’d have your initials over the pocket or something.”
“Peggy went shopping for winter clothes. She thinks she’s funny.” He sat up straighter, going back to staring at the screen. “I feel like some wannabe Instagram fitness model.”
“Wannabe?” Grace crawled toward Aaron, noticing his fingers go still on the laptop keyboard. “No, you’d be the real deal.”
Without looking at her, Aaron shook his head. “Grace.” He’d meant to speak her name like a warning, but all she heard was the gruff desperation. “You need to go sleep in the cabin. I might just be able to explain you spending the night here with two other women present, but this—”
Imagining her courage flowing out behind her like a cape, Grace gently set aside Aaron’s laptop and straddled him, taking hold of the hands he lifted to keep her back, stroking his wrists with her thumbs. “Who says you’ll have to explain anything?”
“I think we’ve established I’m a capable liar. You, on the other hand, are not.” His tongue stroked the corner of his lips and Grace’s nipples puckered to painful points in response. “If you spend the night underneath me, you’ll wear your satisfaction like a billboard, baby. Someone asks you about it, you’ll blush like a schoolgirl, remembering all the bad things you gave me permission to do in the dark. They’ll know I had you. They’ll know you got on your back for me and gave me that pussy like a birthday present.”
It was all Grace could do not to slump sideways, canaries circling over her head. He was muttering a reproof under his breath, directed at himself. Filthy bastard. You filthy bastard, talking to her like that. “You’re not making a very good case for me to leave. M-maybe you’re having an off night at convincing people to see things your way.” She slid her knees wide on either side of Aaron’s thighs, watched his attention snag on the flesh he’d licked earlier that night. “I’m not having an off night, though. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“You don’t,” he rasped, closing his eyes. “I’m not in a nice mood, hippie. Right or wrong, I’ve been…jealous. For the last four hours and seventeen minutes. Jealous like some sorry-ass boyfriend. You think I’m going to make love to you like some art school chump? You’re wrong.” He yanked down the hem of her skirt, covering up the exposed tops of her thighs, but in a mind-blowing contradiction, his thumbs slipped up to the edge of her panties, tucking underneath for a single arousing second. “It’s not safe for you here. Go sleep in the cabin.”
“No.” Embracing the shot of bravery, Grace fisted the front of his thermal shirt, drawing him forward, until their faces were an inch apart. “I’m sleeping here. You can try to scare me off as much as you want, but I’m not budging. I know where I’m safe. I know where I’ll sleep the best. And I know you’ll sleep best with me here, too.”
His breath pelted her mouth. “We wouldn’t be sleeping, Grace.”
“After, then,” she whispered, releasing the front of his shirt in favor of sliding her hands over his sturdy shoulders. “After you fuck me.”
A groan filled the scant distance between them. “You’ve got a mouth on you tonight, Grace.” His teeth dragged over his lower lip. “It makes me think you’re looking to be chastised. And if you weren’t my boss’s daughter, you’d be in the right goddamn place for that.”
Almost. Almost. There was a visible crack in his façade, allowing her to peer through his brash attitude and glimpse the vulnerability beneath. The approaching sense of victory was short-lived, though, because lust filled every crack of her framework like hot sand as Aaron’s erection made itself known between her legs, swelling, pushing up. Grace retrieved her hands and leaned back enough to peel the sweater over her head, baring her naked upper half, the freezing air twisting around her already peaked nipples. “Left off my bra, just like you asked me.”
Color bled into Aaron’s cheekbones, his nostrils flaring. “Put it back on,” he croaked. “You’re going to freeze.”
Grace ignored his statement, reaching the small of her back to unzip the skirt all the way down, so she could lift the black garment over her head and toss it aside. “Wore panties, just like you asked me.”
Was she shaking out of arousal or from the cold? Grace couldn’t formulate an answer. The frigid air seemed like the obvious culprit. Obvious—unless a gorgeous, commanding man like Aaron was consuming the sight of your body like a man who ached to give it pleasure, but had both hands tied behind his back. “For God’s sake, Grace, you’re fucking shaking.” He spoke through his teeth, his gaze pleading. “I can’t watch it. Please.”
Good man. He’s a good man. I’ve known it all along. “If you want me warm, better let me inside that sleeping bag.”
“Grace.” Without looking, he snatched up the sweater, attempting to drape it over her shoulders, his movements pushing his erection up against the thin barrier of her panties. Even through the sleeping bag, it was a powerful ride, and Grace allowed her head to loll back, a whimper slipping past her lips. Trembling, she was trembling violently, but an inferno erupted from all sides of her being, the contrast slamming together in Grace’s stomach, like the Red Sea closing its passage to safety.
With a vile curse, Aaron wrenched open the sleeping bag’s zipper. He jerked Grace down into the warmth his body had created, closing the bag again with an angry zip. Her bare skin hitting the slippery nylon, Aaron’s hard body pressing in from behind, his lap molding to her buttocks at the same time, was so decadent, it knocked the breath clear out of her lungs, dropping her jaw on a silent expulsion. And when his arms crossed beneath her breasts, his voice urgent in her hair, Grace almost climaxed without any further stimulation. Going from the freezing atmosphere into Aaron’s embrace was comparable to bobbing among the icebergs to being rescued by an army of towels fresh from the dryer.
“Give me your hands,” Aaron commanded, offering Grace no choice but to obey. He took them between his own and made a pained sound, before tucking them between Grace’s thighs, which warmed them in a matter of seconds. Their presence so close to her sex warmed everything, really. Made her starkly aware of Aaron’s erection nestled between her bottom cheeks, his feet pushing her boots off with hasty movements, abandoning them in the sleeping bag’s end. And then he clamped her feet between his muscular calves, warming them through the stockings. “Better, baby?”
Grace wasn’t sure she could speak through the pleasure. She was naked, except for stockings and underwear, and gathered so close to Aaron, she could feel the rapid booms of his heartbeat against her spine. Her attempt at communicating came out sounding breathless and dreamy. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt better in my whole life.”
Aaron’s heaved sigh shifted her hair, before his head ticked back. “What are these tattoos on your neck?” Using his stubbled chin, he shifted the hair aside. “Are these numbers?”
“They’re coordinates. That’s the exact location of the cabin that burned down,” she murmured, a small chisel putting a dent in the sweeping bliss of warmth. “You’re the first person to see the tattoo, actually. My hair always covers it.” Her pulse spiked with the intimacy they were sharing. “I wear the coordinates so they can’t wear me.”
The silence lasted so long, Grace wondered if he would comment. Wondered if she wanted him to. In the end, he brushed his lips over the spot—once, twice—and God, it was exactly right. “For the love of God, distract me. Tell me where you’ve been.”
She didn’t want to distract him—she wanted him present—but since her body was in a state of pleasure shock, no choice existed but to stall. Until she could turn around and do her utmost to get Aaron naked right back. “We…there was a hostage situation.”
“What?”
Following instinct, Grace turned her face to plant a kiss on his biceps, unfortunately still covered by the white thermal. “The bars were closed, so we shared a bottle of house red in a cornfield. It was the turkey’s turf, though. We found out the hard way when he chased us out.” Eyes drifting closed, she smiled. “We weren’t late on purpose. The last hour was spent on the Suburban’s hood playing rock-paper-scissors.”
A couple of beats passed. “Why rock-paper-scissors?”
“To decide who would create the diversion,” she explained, sucking back a gasp when Aaron scooted closer, driving the ridge of his arousal deeper into the valley dividing her backside. “It started as best out of three, loser distracts the turkey. By the time we ended, it was best out of a hundred.” Aaron’s fingertips strummed down her belly, sliding back up, making Grace sink her teeth into her upper lip to keep from moaning. “The turkey finally got b-bored and left.”
Just when she thought her current situation couldn’t possibly get any more amazing, Aaron’s body started to shake with laughter behind her. The sensation might have been enough to sustain Grace’s happiness for the rest of her life, but the sound…oh God, the slow thunder roll of it against her ear, like a drought-ending storm, bathing dry fields and turning everything green…it blew her away. Just sucked her belly in tight, curled her toes, and filled her chest with effervescence.
“It could have been worse,” she managed. “It could have been a bear.”
The smile—thank God—was still in his voice when he spoke. “Grace. What is this fascination with bears about?”
He’d noticed. “When I was eight, my parents noticed food missing from the kitchen. Not just once, a few times. They didn’t suspect me, because I was so young and I was a picky eater anyway.” She fell into the hazy rhythm of the story, vowing to lie and pretend she was still cold if he tried to shake her loose. “Then one Christmas morning, a whole ham was missing from the fridge…and whoever had taken it left a trail of grease leading out the back door. And a bunch of little footprints.”
“Do I want to hear the rest of this?”
She swallowed a laugh. “They found me in the backyard, leaving dinner for my pet bear, Nolan. And Nolan was on his way into the yard to get his ham. I’d only seen him at a distance before, but when he got closer…he bellowed.” She fit the arch of her foot against his calf. “He ran toward me full speed and my mother screamed, but Nolan changed directions and nabbed the ham instead.” Aaron’s heartbeat had accelerated against her spine during the story and she gloried in that telling reaction, even as she wanted to soothe it. “I’m not really afraid of the bear. It’s more guilt that I stopped feeding him. It sounds silly when I say it out loud.”
“You’re not silly,” Aaron said after a moment, his lips grazing her neck. “I’m glad it was a turkey tonight, instead of Nolan, too. Pissed-off poultry is a lot better than what I was thinking.”
“What were you thinking?” What are you always, always thinking? I want to know. I want you to tell me, so I can lock up your secrets and never, ever betray your confidence, even if I’m tortured.
Aaron said her name under his breath. “It doesn’t matter. Every time I think about you, I land on the same damn conclusion.” He started to ease away, shooting a flare of panic through Grace’s blood. “You’re not the kind of girl who has…short affairs. That’s all I have. I’m not sure where I’ll be next week, but for damn sure, I know I won’t be your—or anyone’s—boyfriend. I never have been.”
He seemed to realize how harsh that sounded, because he pushed his forehead into Grace’s shoulder, nudging and staying put. “You deserve someone who can offer the long run, Grace. That’s not me. It wouldn’t be fair to…set what I know about you aside for one night. No matter how bad…” He sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly, his erection still prominent against her bottom. “No matter how bad I’d want to turn a blind eye to the right thing. For once, I can’t.”
This chance was slipping through her fingers, but after Aaron’s speech, she was more determined than ever to shatter his defenses. Maybe he didn’t realize it now, but he’d just revealed himself. He cared about her. But he didn’t think himself capable of offering more. If she could just win this one victory, there would be light on the other side. She knew it in her stomach. She’d do anything to reach that place. Even lie, it seemed. The past might have caused her to doubt, but even the strongest memories and fears that made trusting difficult…they didn’t stop her gut from screaming out that the man on the other side of the mask needed her in order to soar. They needed each other.
“You’re wrong.” Grace turned in Aaron’s loosened embrace, allowing a chafing of her nipples against the thermal shirt, before pushing a resistant Aaron onto his back and straddling him. “You’re wrong. I only want one night.” The words tasted acidic, but at least she had his attention. At least he’d stopped trying to unseat her from his aroused lap. “You’ve said it before. We’re too different and…I agree. But…”
“But what?” Aaron rasped.
Grace slid down Aaron’s body, a merciless drag of ripe female over primed male anatomy, making Aaron’s muscular torso flex as he moaned. “I’m attracted to you, even though I know better. It hurts to be around you,” she murmured shakily. Truth. That was truth. “I just need you inside me one time and I’ll leave you alone. No one will ever know.”
“I’ll know.” His hands fisted at the small of her back. “I’ll never stop knowing.”
She slipped nimble fingers down between their bodies, palming Aaron’s rampant arousal. “It’s just a moment, like in the field. Give me a moment.”