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Shelter Me Home(26)

By:T. S. Joyce


In a ragged whisper, she said, "Maybe I should just tell him, and then  she'll lose that leverage. She'll only have Dodge over you, and when you  save up enough to take her to court, that'll work itself out, too. I  don't know, maybe Miles should know."

He stood and held out a hand to help her up. His rough palm was warm as she took it.

"I don't think you should make a decision under pressure or because you  think it'll help me. You have to decide based on what you and your child  need. Don't worry about Erin. I'll put her mind at ease about you and  hope she backs off. Until then, think long and hard about the pros and  cons of letting Miles in on this part of your life."

"You fight so hard for Dodge. Do you think less of me for trying to keep my child from Miles?" The answer mattered.

"At first it upset me, before you told me what he'd done. My situation  is different, though. I wouldn't ever do that to someone I loved. He  misused you, and he's in a powerful position to make things really bad  for you. I can see why you'd want to get your head together before you  involve him. No, I don't think less of you. You're already a good mom."  His fingertips brushed her stomach, and the flutters there shook so hard  she trembled and closed her eyes. "What you're doing makes me think  more of you."                       
       
           



       

She cast her gaze up to the sad smile that crooked one corner of his  lips. It likely matched her own. "If you want me to leave, tell me now  before I fall more in love with this place."

His fingers slipped to her waist, and he ran his thumb against the swell  of her stomach. "Even if I can't talk to you, working the homestead  with you settles something in me I've been missing for a long time. It's  nice not to feel so alone. You know what's going on with me and this  really messed up situation I got myself into, and you haven't run for  the hills. It's been such a relief to share the muck of my life with  someone who isn't judging me for it. I don't want to go back to being  empty again. I don't want to look out my window, knowing you won't be  there. Don't leave."

"Me being here causes trouble for both of us though, Aanon."

A deep seriousness swam in his eyes, and he shook his head. "I don't  care. I can't ever have you, but I don't want to lose you. If the most I  get is watching you work the homestead, that's okay. It's better than  nothing." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "It's better than I thought  I'd ever have."

Her throat was so tight it hurt, and she whispered, "Should I start  dating Ben? Should I go out with him casually and take the spotlight off  of us?"

Cupping her face, he splayed his legs and beseeched her with the vibrant  blue of his eyes. The wind lifted the gold tendrils of his hair, and  his eyebrows drew down as his jaw clenched. "No. I couldn't stand it.  Thinking about you with him-I just can't."

"So, I can't have you, but I can't date anyone else either?" She  grimaced at the unfairness of it all. She wasn't in a hurry to move on  from Miles, but Erin controlling who she spent time with prickled her  pride.

Aanon growled, a low and dangerous sound. "Dammit, can't you see what  you do to me? I don't want Ben's hands on you. I don't want him feeling  the baby move before I do and I don't-"

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Clenching his jacket in an  unbreakable grip, she let everything go. All of their problems could  wait, but right now, her insides were knotted, and the only thing that  would untie them was Aanon's touch.

A moment's hesitation, and then he dragged her closer, licking the seam  of her lips, as if he was asking permission. With a trembling sigh, she  parted her lips, and he lapped gently against her tongue with his.

His fire was catching. She was burning from the inside, and her knees  went soft. His mouth moved against hers in an easy rhythm, and she  fought the groan of ecstasy that bubbled from her throat. He was  everything in this moment. Shelter, sustenance, warmth, safety.

Impatient fingertips worried the hem of her shirt, and heat filled her  as his hands found the bare skin of her back. Without warning, he folded  her into his arms and made for the brush of the woods.

She soared in the strength and purpose of his stride, and when they came  to a giant pine, he set her down to run burning kisses down her jawline  and neck. "I've been waiting so long to taste you," he murmured.

Gently, she raked her fingers through his hair, brushed a thumb over his  cheek. The stubble that shadowed his jaw rasped against her fingertips,  and she pressed her hips against his. Never would she be close enough  to him.

Desperate, her fingers pulled at the fly of his jeans, and as she  brushed his taut lower abdomen, he inhaled sharply and closed his eyes  for a brief moment like he'd never been touched before. God, he was  beautiful.

He bucked against her hand and gathered her hair at the nape of her neck  before giving it a gentle pull. Grazing teeth against her throat, he  unzipped her jacket and cast it to the ground. The air was cool, but the  warmth he was causing inside made up for it. She pulled his shirt over  his head, then stroked and caressed the length of his shaft until he  tensed.

So fast she gasped, he spun her and splayed her hands on the trunk of  the great pine. With his erection pressed against her back, he reached  around to brush the top of her leggings, touching just under the hem  against her skin, and she heaved a great shuddering sigh. "Please," she  moaned.

"Farrah," he gritted out. "Tell me to stop now or I won't be able to."

It wasn't in her power to deny him. She was too far in, too far gone. If  they were going to hell, well, they were going there thoroughly. "Don't  stop."

His fingers slipped inside of her lacy panties and found her slick  folds. Teasing, he withdrew and found her again until she begged  shamelessly.                       
       
           



       

In a blinding moment of rapture, he plunged two long fingers into her  and she cried out. How had she lived so long without his touch? Nothing  in her life had even come close to this feeling. No act had been filled  with more love and desire. Pressing his hips against her back, he rocked  to the cadence of his touch, every stroke bringing them closer to  release. His lips found the back of her neck and in the final moments,  he bit her flesh as she cried out his name. The onslaught of pain in the  poignant moment of utter pleasure was overwhelming and shudders wracked  her body. She arched against him as Aanon groaned with his own release.  Warmth trickled down her back.

Panting, he chuckled low against her ear as her body pulsed against his  fingers, begging for him to stay buried inside of her. "Come here," he  murmured as he withdrew slowly.

His jacket made a soft bed on the forest floor, and hers a comforting  blanket. He didn't bother with his shirt, just lay down and drew her in  close.

Lightly, she traced the curving tattoo that coiled down one shoulder.  How many times had she imagined it since she'd seen the first hint of  ink peeking from underneath his sweater at the gas station in Homer?  Surely, none of her imaginings could ever come close to how seductive he  looked in reality. His skin was smooth and belied the deep musculature  etched beneath the surface, borne of the hard physical labor necessary  to maintain his place among the predators.

His lips lingered on her forehead as she absorbed his warmth and his  capable hand palmed the side of her stomach, as if he were protective of  the tiny life that grew there.

A strong kick from her middle echoed through her, and Aanon frowned. He  stilled until nary a muscle twitched. The second kick against his hand  couldn't be mistaken.

"Oh, my gosh," she whispered. "Did you feel that?"

Aanon rolled her onto her back and pushed the jacket down, watched his  hand with single minded concentration. Moments later, another kick. His  stunning smile mirrored the elation she felt at having shared this  experience with someone who mattered-with someone who appreciated the  magic of the moment.

"Yeah," he murmured, an absent grin lingering on his lips. "I felt it."  With more tenderness than anyone had ever shown her, he leaned down and  brushed his lips against hers. The giant pine branches above them  rustled in the deep evening light, and the breeze gathered dry leaves  into swirls around them. Gazing into Aanon's eyes, there on nature's  pillow, she'd never forget or take for granted this moment as long as  she lived. It was perfect.

A half hour later, as Aanon drove the four-wheeler up the ramp and into  the Chevy, she huddled into her jacked and smiled. He was strong and  tender in turn-a man she could trust. She'd put her faith in the wrong  kind of man before, and her bad decision caused her pain.