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Ashes to Ashes: Contemporary Romance Novella by Tess Oliver (12)

Chapter 3

Aunt Gail and Uncle Robbie had gone to bed and aside from the usual chorus of crickets, the occasional snort of a sleepy horse and the settling walls of the old house, a peaceful quiet had fallen over the farm.

Ryder had ridden Charger for one long, harrowing hour during which I’d traded off between gasping in horror and holding my breath in angst. He’d managed to remain in the saddle and Aunt Gail had rewarded him with macaroni and cheese when he was done. More than once, the toe of his boot had tapped my bare calf under the table and even that small, harmless flirtation had left me with an insatiable urge to be in his arms.

Just as I went to slide of my dress and get into bed, something small smacked the bedroom window. It was a sound I’d heard before, and my heart raced ahead as I hurried to the window and pushed it open.

Ryder stared up at me from the front yard. “Hey J. J., come out and play.” It was the same line he’d always used and it had always worked. I pulled on my sandals and, just like I had as a teenager, I tiptoed down the stairs and out the front door.

I ran up to him and he wrapped me in his strong arms. He gazed down at me. “There was no way I was going to sleep tonight knowing my favorite pair of lips--” He reached down, and I gasped as his callused fingertips reached under the hem of my dress and slid along the skin of my leg. “--And silky thighs were just five hundred yards down the road.” He dropped his arms and grabbed hold of my hand. I was certain he would lead me back to his house, but instead we headed into Uncle Robbie’s barn.

I looked at him questioningly.

“I told you it’s been etched in my brain. I don’t think I can ever go easily to my grave until we finish what we started here.” I followed him obediently up to the hayloft. A soft quilt and bottle of wine waited for us. A half moon provided just enough light and cast a warm glow through the open loft window.

“I don’t remember the blanket or the wine last time,” I said.

“Well, back then my dad would have had my hide if I’d been walking around with a bottle of wine, and I keenly remember getting straw stuck in places it shouldn’t have been.” He pulled me into his arms. “Let me make love to you, Janie.” It was the same thing he’d said that afternoon when we were two overheated teens and it felt just as right this time.

I lifted my face to his and felt his arms wrap tightly around me as his mouth came down over mine, making my knees weak. I clutched his shirt to keep from sinking to the ground. His hands smoothed down over my back, and he inched the hem of my dress up. He pulled his mouth away from mine just long enough to lift my dress up and over my head, then gazed down at me with a hunger that made me nearly melt into a heated puddle.

Ryder reached forward and undid the clasp on my bra and slid it from my shoulders. I pushed off my sandals and stepped back into his arms in just my panties, pressing my nearly naked body against his. I could feel his heart beating wildly as he held me against him. His hands ran over my bare skin as he pushed my panties down. My arms circled his neck and I pulled his mouth down to mine.

“I’ve never wanted anything so badly,” I whispered. My fingers reached down and grabbed the end of his t-shirt and I clumsily pushed it up over his head. I pressed my hardened nipples against his heated skin as my tongue moved along his throat.

“God, J. J., I’ve been waiting for this for four damn years.” He led me to the quilt. It was soft and warm beneath my skin as I stretched back and watched him take off his jeans. He was even more beautiful naked. He knelt down next to me, his gaze drifting over my naked body.“I can’t stop looking at you.” He leaned over me and kissed my breasts, softly at first and then his tongue circled my taut nipples and I inhaled deeply, pushing up against his mouth. His hands caressed my stomach and moved down to the moist warmth between my legs. I arched my hips eagerly toward his touch as his fingers slid inside of me.

A soft mewl floated from my lips and disappeared into the cool air of the loft. I ached for him. My fingers slid along the long hot length of him, and he groaned as I ran my thumb over the smooth, slick tip.

He reached for his jeans and pulled a condom out of the pocket. He pushed my thighs open as he knelt down between my legs. Leaning over me, he slid one hand beneath my bottom and he kissed me again as he slipped inside of me, slowly at first and then with the urgency I’d longed for. His mouth devoured mine as he thrust deeper, and I curled my legs around his waist, pulling him harder against me, not wanting him to stop . . . ever.

Our bodies fit together perfectly, and we moved in rhythm as if we’d been made for each other. I could not get enough of him. I wanted him to go deeper and harder. My fingers clutched his shoulders as he rocked against me, leaving me wanting more with each thrust. My legs gripped him tightly and I cried out as shuddering waves of heat and pleasure coursed through me. His movements became frenzied as he ground his body against mine. A low groan rolled up from his throat and his fingers clamped around my arms as he came.

He collapsed down over me and rolled onto his side, bringing me along with him. His fingers tenderly brushed the fading bruise on my cheek. “I think you should stay here, with me.”

I snuggled against him and it dawned on me that the only time I’d ever been truly happy was when I was here in the country, away from the stress of the city, and in Ryder’s arms. My ‘predetermined’ path had always led me to the wrong place, and it had taken a few bends in the road to help me find my way home. I lifted my head and kissed him. “Thank you, Ryder.”

His arms wrapped around me. “For what?”

“For waiting. For still being here when I finally came to my senses.”