The Widow's Protector Read online

  Like cutting his throat.

  Imagining it kept Ben going all the way back to his car. It made him calmer as he pulled out a sleeping bag and curled up in the passenger seat with the back dropped all the way.

  It filled his dreams much later when he at last slept.

  Ryder owed him a life, the life of the only person Ben had ever really cared about. And like a loan shark, Ben was going to collect.

  * * *

  Ryder couldn’t sleep. That kiss in the nursery had gone from gentle to passionate in one second flat. He’d forced himself to end it there because he didn’t want Marti out of some misplaced sense of gratitude. The disgust he would have felt for himself would have flogged him for a very long time.

  But he’d heard her response in her quickened breathing, felt it in the way she had clung and opened her mouth to him. Seen it in the hazy look in her eyes.

  Now he was lying in the dark, his loins heavy and aching in a way that was going to keep him up half the night.

  For a long time now, he’d lost these feelings. He’d had to bury them because Brandy was never in the mood and he didn’t want to make her feel any worse over anything.

  He’d built a wall around her, he realized, protecting her from everything. He brought no problems home with him, he’d done all the cooking and cleaning and everything else, and he’d even taken responsibility for ensuring she took her meds.

  Maybe he’d added to her depression by making her feel useless. He’d never know now, though, and he was getting tired of asking himself questions that had no answers.

  The desire that had begun the very instant he set eyes on Marti wasn’t helping clear his thoughts anyway.

  That was a question with an answer.

  All he had to do was walk down the hall and ask.

  Or get in her truck and see if there were any easy women in town. No, he realized instantly, that wouldn’t make him feel any better. It never had.

  What he wanted was Marti. Why the hell was he making it so complicated? She knew he was just passing through. If she welcomed him, it meant that she was prepared to accept that. Simple questions, simple answers.

  Somehow it all seemed tangled up anyway.

  Ah, hell. He gave up and wandered the roads of fantasy he’d been denying himself for so long. Marti would be beautiful naked, although he doubted she would believe it right now. He had no trouble imagining her lying on her bed, her pregnancy merely adding to a womanliness that he’d detected from holding her in his arms.

  Full firm breasts, fuller because of her pregnancy, probably pale and blue-veined to judge by her light skin. A thick thatch of blond hair between her thighs beckoning him.

  He imagined turning her around so that she lay on the edge of the bed so he could love her without hurting Linda Marie. He imagined her sighs, her moans, her pleasure, and with each imagined sound his passion mounted until he was so heavy with need he almost groaned.

  Parting her petals, running his fingers over her most sensitive and private parts, learning her most intimate secrets. Bending over her to carefully suck at her nipples.

  He touched himself, and felt his body leap. It had worked in the past when his needs had been unanswerable and too big to ignore.

  But this time he stopped, realizing that another solitary orgasm wasn’t going to ease his real need for a woman, a particular woman.

  Somehow the need was making a joke out of all his reasoned reluctance. How much would he really hurt the lady with a single night of ecstasy? Good question.

  Maybe he could just give them both a great memory to store up for the days and months ahead. He sure as hell knew the importance of memories like that, because they’d helped him through the worst of times with Brandy.

  Memories of good things. They added up to the reason people kept on living. If all you had were memories of bad things, what would be the point?

  He’d seen how Marti had responded. Maybe she wanted it as much as he did. Maybe she even needed it to realize that she was definitely an attractive, sexy woman.

  Maybe he was doing them both a disservice by fighting something that was almost tangible between them. By the way she had kissed him back earlier, he was sure his feelings were reciprocated.

  So why be a damn fool and deny them both what they wanted?

  The next thing he knew, he was standing outside Marti’s bedroom door, wearing nothing but his shorts.

  He was going to explode if he didn’t love that woman. It was as simple as that.

  Chapter 8

  Marti heard Ryder stir. At first she thought he was going to the bathroom, but his steps came down the creaky hall floor and stopped by her bedroom.

  Oh, please come in, she thought as her body gave in to all the cravings he had awakened in her. All the things she’d tried not to think about even as her body had been sending loud and furious signals almost from the outset.

  Fantasies she hadn’t allowed herself to have suddenly burst into her mind full-blown, as if they’d been rehearsed at some subconscious level. Ryder’s hands and mouth on her, learning every single inch of her, possessing her at last.

  Oh, how she wanted his possession. Every cell inside her seemed ready for it. Between her legs, a deep aching throb resumed, a throbbing that had never been far away since he had arrived.

  He’d been so careful of her, so cautious, and too damn gentle. She was sure she wouldn’t break, and she so desperately needed to feel wanted, if only for a single night.

  It had been so long since she’d been really wanted or made to feel truly sexy. An eternity had passed since her body had awakened the way this man awakened it with a few kisses and touches.

  Sometimes she felt he was the key to her lock.

  Ridiculous, she tried to tell herself as she listened to the silence. She bit her lip and stirred restlessly as deepening desire took command.

  She threw back the blankets as her own internal heat took over the job. Lying there in a simple nightshirt, surely the least sexy thing ever devised, she wished she had some beautiful peignoir, some lacy piece of something to enhance her appeal.

  She wished she could find voice to call out to him. But hanging on the thread of taut anticipation, she awaited his decision. Because she really didn’t believe in her own appeal, rejection would be the worst thing of all.

  The night, though chilly, seemed to have grown sultry. She began to breathe harder as if all the air were being sucked from the room.

  She didn’t know if she could stand the anxious expectancy.

  Then the door opened with a creak, and she heard Ryder say quietly, “Marti?”

  All she could manage was, “Hmm?”

  “Are you awake?”

  Never more awake in her life. “Yes.” A bare whisper.

  He entered the room but left the door open behind him as if he didn’t plan to stay. Her hopeful heart began to sink, but the rest of her remained wired on the most basic of needs.

  He approached on surprisingly light feet. There wasn’t enough star shine coming through the window to make him any more than a dark shadow. All of a sudden she wished for light so she could see him.

  She felt him perch on the bed beside her, heard the springs creak beneath his weight. “If I stay,” he said quietly, “I’m going to make love to you. I don’t want to do that if it will hurt you. So tell me, do I stay or go?”

  She wondered almost crazily if he meant he’d leave permanently. But what did it matter? She had only one answer anyway. “Stay.”

  Thank goodness he didn’t ask if she was sure. She wanted no more pointless questions to interrupt the magic building inside of her and flowing between them. It did indeed feel like magic, as if a spell of desire had wrapped around her, had wrapped them in a private cocoon.

  He didn’t he
sitate any longer. He stretched out beside her and slipped an arm beneath her shoulders, drawing closer.

  She almost gasped with delight as she realized he wore next to nothing. At that instant, nothing could have stopped her from running her hands over his warm, smooth skin. Her palms were eager for the feel of him, wanting to learn his every inch.

  Smooth muscles responded to her touches as she traced his chest and then finally managed to get on her side so she could run her hand over his back. More muscles, and they leaped at her touch in the most pleasing way.

  He seemed to welcome her eagerness and reciprocated. Even as his mouth settled over hers for a deep, possessive kiss, he began to claim the rest of her with his hands. She wasn’t aware that her nightshirt had bunched up around her shoulders until she felt his warm hands begin to caress her bare breasts.

  Impossibly, excitement leaped even higher in her very depths. Each brush of his palms and fingers set a new fire burning. Her nipples grew huge and more sensitive than she had ever guessed they could. Even the lightest of his touches seemed to leap to her very center until she felt as if a welder’s arc ran from them to her core. And with each touch, she throbbed more strongly.

  His tongue tangled with hers, a knowing tongue that timed itself perfectly with the way her hips seemed to tighten. She lifted a hand, trying to draw his head closer but instead felt him pull away. Too fast, too soon.

  But then his mouth found her breast, at first just licking her, driving her crazy with a need for stronger touches, deeper touches. But not until her hips lifted a little did he answer her silent plea, drawing her nipple deeply into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue even as he sucked on it.

  A low, helpless moan escaped her. Nothing in her life had ever prepared her for feelings this intense or a pinnacle so high. She felt dizzy with it, as if she were already teetering on the pinnacle and ready to tip over.

  So hot, so quick, so strong. Never had she ignited this way before. The thrill carried her to a newly discovered landscape of hunger.

  She hated that she couldn’t move freely, that even twisting onto her side was difficult now that he was there. She tried to find purchase to roll over even more so she could meet him directly, but he stilled her quickly with his hand.

  “Don’t struggle,” he murmured, finding her mouth with his again. “I’ll help.”

  Regretting the loss of his hot wet mouth on her breast, she forced herself to still and cried out ecstatically when he began again to suck on her breast.

  Then he caught her hand and drew it downward, wrapping it around his swollen staff.

  The silky satin of his skin there unleashed another wave of longing. He felt so big, so hard, and it was all for her.

  She murmured her delight incoherently and tried to stroke him. Then his fingers settled between her legs, parting her, opening her, caressing her lips lightly. He might as well have struck a match.

  Her hand tightened around him. “Ryder…” The moan escaped her and he seemed to understand the words she couldn’t voice.

  “Easy,” he whispered.

  She almost cried out in protest when he drew back from her, but before she could find breath to protest, she realized he had risen from the bed. He was leaving.

  Before her heart could plummet into the depths of disappointment and despair, however, she felt him lift her and turn her so her bottom rested on the edge of the bed with her legs dangling to the floor.

  “We have someone else to care for,” he murmured, his voice a little thick.

  The thoughtfulness touched her heart but then he parted her legs, opening her widely to him. Shyness almost overwhelmed her and she was suddenly glad there was no light. She felt so exposed, and although it was a good feeling, it was a little scary, too.

  But then he took that fear and turned it right back into passion. His fingers stroked her, circling in on that knot of nerves that had become almost painful with passion.

  The lightest of touches on that nub, and she bucked almost violently. She never wanted it to stop, this pleasure-pain he was inducing.

  It didn’t stop. He continued until waves of hunger overwhelmed her like a tsunami.

  Then, something else she had never experienced before. She almost froze as she realized what he was doing. His mouth was on her down there now, his tongue following the earlier path of his fingers. Hot, wet, silky.

  Nature and need took over, causing her hips to rise and fall with each touch until she begged, “Ryder…Ryder…”

  At last he straightened and slipped into her heated depths, slowly, so very slowly, as if he wanted them both to feel every inch of his penetration.

  When he moved, it was with a gentleness that was at once maddening and arousing. Gently, gently, his thrusts continued, each one lifting her even higher.

  Dimly she was aware of his heavy breathing. Her own panting sounded loud in the room. The panting became helpless moans.

  Please, please, please…

  The orgasm rolled through her like an endless rumble of thunder, shaking her entire body, endlessly intense. She almost felt as if she exploded, as if the entire night turned blindingly brilliant. She felt him jerk, heard him groan and stiffen.

  She tipped over the edge into an abyss of release and pleasure she had never before known.

  And when it was done, he leaned over her on his elbows and let his head fall gently on her breasts.

  * * *

  It may have been a few minutes later, or it might have been an hour. She had lost all sense of time. Ryder turned her and covered her, then padded quickly from the room. She heard water in the bathroom, then the floor creaked at his return.

  He surprised her. Saying nothing, he pulled back the covers and began to run a warm washcloth over her from her breasts down to the still tender and achy place between her legs.

  It was such a caring gesture, she felt her eyes prickle but refused to give in to silly tears. He might misunderstand.

  Before she could chill, the blankets had been drawn over her again, but this time he was under them with her. He helped her turn onto her side, then spooned himself against her back.

  “Thank you,” he said softly in her ear.

  A long sigh of release and happiness escaped her. “Thank you.”

  His chuckle was quiet. “We could argue about that I suppose.” His hand gently caressed the mound of her belly. “Passenger okay?”

  “She’s very okay.”

  “Good.” He continued his gentle, soothing massage of her tummy, then allowed his hand to venture up to her breasts. Amazingly, she felt the heat of response again. So quickly.

  “I protected you,” he added. “I thought you should know that.”

  “What? Oh.” She had trouble focusing. “Obviously I can’t get pregnant.”

  “I don’t have any disease,” he explained, “but I didn’t want to leave you wondering.”

  At those words the entire night seemed to darken more. He didn’t want to leave her wondering. Referring to his departure, of course. She caught herself just before she could tumble into despair. Enjoy the minute she was in, she reminded herself. Don’t ruin this by worrying about tomorrow or next week. Treasure it.

  She sighed and stretched a little and felt his arms curl around her. Those arms seemed to cherish her and protect her, though she needed no protection at the moment. That didn’t prevent her from liking it.

  Her toes curled with contentment, then their feet tangled together.

  “Lady,” he said, “you are one spectacular lay.”

  The unexpected and unusual compliment completely banished the presentiment of anticipated sorrow. She giggled. “I’ve never been called a ‘lay’ before.”

  “Your education is sorely lacking,” he replied, then emitted a quiet chuckle. “All right, you’re a spect
acular lover. Sexy as hell. I’ve been going out of my mind wanting you.”

  She liked the sound of that. “I didn’t do all that much.”

  “All you have to do is breathe. Or smile. And say yes.”

  Another giggle slipped out. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He passed his hands over her, his touch now as possessive and familiar as it was gentle. “I hate to ruin the moment, but I’m starving. Want me to bring a small picnic up here?”

  “Sure. That sounds like fun. And some light. I’d actually like to see you.”

  “Ah, lady, the games have only begun. But I need to get my strength up. Besides, I’m almost positive that a growling stomach wouldn’t enhance the mood.”

  She was still smiling almost giddily when he slipped out of bed and pulled his shorts on. And oddly, she felt younger than she had in a great many years.

  She managed to pull some pillows around and push herself in a semi-sitting position while she waited. When Jeff had used to slip out of this bed, she hadn’t missed him at all and had often hoped he wouldn’t hurry back. Ryder’s absence made the bed feel way too big and empty.

  Later, she told herself. She’d deal with that later, but not before she absolutely had to.

  She glanced toward the window and thought she saw a light out in the fields. As soon as she blinked it was gone.

  The wind must have moved a remaining piece of debris, she decided. But then she remembered how earlier she had felt watched. For some reason, she thought of the shotgun in her closet. It had been Jeff’s father’s, and they’d taken it out for target shooting a few times. As soon as it crossed her mind, she pushed the memory away.

  Why in the world would anyone be watching this house? Hormones, she told herself. Her hormones were just acting up, creating strange notions. She’d been living here alone for months now, and the only thing she had ever feared was taking a fall and being unable to get to the phone.

  No reason to worry about anything else. This damn county was so safe as to be boring. However, she decided she wanted those curtains closed, even if there was nothing beyond that window except miles of empty land.