Page 25 of A Lonely Road (Spruce Hill #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

Nora

A s a result of my many travels, both as a child and an adult, I developed a longstanding love affair with maps.

Paper maps, online maps, globes, phone maps—it didn’t matter the format, as long as I could study them to my heart’s content, tracing the lines of the rivers, hopping from one city dot to another, tracking my own path or sometimes my father’s as they zig-zagged across the continent.

Maybe it was a childish exercise, but it never ceased to center me when I started to feel that itch beneath my skin that told me it was time to move on.

Before settling on Spruce Hill, the maps had shown me the wealth of waterways nearby: Great Lakes, Finger Lakes, rivers, canals.

They all played a part in my choice of location this time around.

I’d been landlocked for too long, and after I mentioned that fact to my father in one of our semi-frequent phone calls, he’d sent me a picture of Mr. Jenkins’ apartment ad.

Everything had fallen into place after that, but all that water around sealed the decision for me.

Maybe you’re just looking for a place to call home.

Now, with Jake at my side and Lake Ontario spreading before us, the words he’d spoken as we gazed out across his backyard echoed in my head. My fingers tightened on his for a moment and a soft, sweet ache in my chest receded as something else slipped into place, settling comfortably inside me.

“This is absolutely incredible,” I whispered. The deep blue stretched as far as I could see, bobbing with gentle waves under a beautiful, flawless sky.

Jake kissed my temple and tightened the arm he’d slipped around my waist, tucking me firmly against his side. “I thought you’d like it here.”

“I love it here, but I think we should go back in,” I purred against his ear a few minutes later. “I have something to show you.”

When his eyes widened, I simply gave him a sultry smile and tugged at his hand. Jake stumbled along behind me as we made our way back to the room, following willingly, his blue eyes sparking with heat every time I glanced at him.

Once we were safely ensconced in our charming little suite, he cupped his hand around the back of my neck and kissed me until I was wiggling impatiently against him .

“What is it you wanted to show me?” he asked hoarsely. “If it doesn’t involve you getting naked, I’m not sure I’ll survive to appreciate whatever it is.”

I stepped back and pulled my t-shirt over my head, revealing the lacy black bra I’d bought with Sam. As I tossed the shirt aside, his breath hissed through his teeth and he dipped his head for a closer look. The fabric was sheer, giving a glimpse of what hid underneath the swirling lace pattern.

“Oh, this is nice,” he drawled, straightening to kiss me again while his hands wandered.

His thumbs teased my nipples through the material until they hardened into tight buds, until I considered begging for his mouth to replace his fingers, but when he slid one hand behind my back to unfasten it, I remembered my plan and shook my head.

Jake groaned, but it was clear my teasing had him intrigued—and, pressed so close, I knew he was already hard as a rock. Still, the big reveal required a little more torment.

“Uh-uh,” I replied, the sing-song words a direct contrast to the husky note in my voice. There was no way not to respond to the raw desire darkening his expression. “There’s more to see. You used to be so patient. What’s the rush?”

Jake tore off his own shirt and then pulled me snug against him, rolling his hips into mine and growling at the little gasp that slipped past my lips.

After I unbuckled his belt, he returned the favor and slid down the zipper of my jeans.

When he pushed the denim past my hips and brushed his hands over the curve of my ass, however, his fingers met bare skin.

I almost burst out laughing as his eyebrows shot up before he turned me around, leaving the jeans tangled halfway down my legs.

“Holy shit,” he whispered when he saw the thong. “If my sister had a hand in this, I don’t need to know. Fuck, Nora, you are . . .” He trailed off as I turned back toward him and lifted a brow in challenge.

“What am I?” I asked. Slowly, so slowly I saw his fists clench at his sides to keep from reaching for me, I wriggled out of the jeans and kicked them aside.

“You are so fucking hot, I might just lose my mind.”

Jake hooked a finger in the front of the flimsy underwear and tugged me toward him.

With one hand tangled in my hair, he kissed me until the fire burning inside of us both became all-encompassing.

He tossed aside his own jeans and boxers, then swept me into his arms before I could protest—though I doubted I would have, not when he was looking at me like that.

Like I was the only thing in the world he wanted.

The laughter that bubbled from my lips made him smile with a different kind of warmth, softer and more tender, then he laid me on the bed and I turned my attention toward showing him just how I felt about his presence in my life. Before this trip was over, I wanted to be sure he understood.

And I was certain we’d both enjoy the process along the way.

T hough I knew Jake had intended our little getaway primarily to take my mind off of recent events, it turned into something even more precious. Now that I’d told him about what happened with my mother, the murmured conversations we shared while snuggled in bed became deeper and more personal.

For the first time, I told him about the places I’d lived, the choices I’d made to avoid getting close to anyone, the aching sense of loss that had colored my final years of college.

Through it all, he stroked my hair or my skin, pressed kisses to the top of my head, made it clear he understood how big a deal it was that I was opening up. When I told him about my time with Audrey and Jamal, however, I felt his lips curve against my bare shoulder.

“You know, my sister and Casey both commented on you being bi, but I didn’t want to push it by asking. I know straight guys can be idiots about that stuff—believe me, the two of them have told me that a hundred times.”

I laughed. “I might have forgiven your faux pas,” I teased, “or I might have made you do penance by providing orgasms. I don’t know how Sam even guessed. I hadn’t said anything remotely sexual about literally anyone.”

“She’s got a knack for reading people,” he replied with a shrug. “Small town, you know how it is. ”

At that, I laughed. “Nosy neighbors, lightning speed gossip? If I didn’t know before, I do now.”

With his fingers sifting lightly through my hair, he asked, “Were you trying to avoid me, when you first moved in? You wouldn’t even let me jump your car for you.”

“Like the devil. Fat lot of good it did me,” I muttered.

Jake grinned. “Must be my animal magnetism. You obviously can’t keep your hands off me. Sorry if I ruined your solitary plans for Spruce Hill.”

I propped myself up on one elbow and narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you object to my hands on you, Jake Lincoln?”

“Hell no. Your hands are perfect. Beautiful. Clever. Torturous. Absolutely mind-blowingly amazing.”

“Then I guess it worked out well for both of us, didn’t it?” I drawled.

Quiet laughter rumbled in his chest when I dipped my head to kiss him, but that shift remained.

Our final morning at the inn was spent in much the same way as the rest of the trip: in bed, naked, tangled up in each other’s arms. Now that Jake knew pretty much everything about my background, I felt a hundred pounds lighter.

It was humbling to realize just how bogged down I'd been by those secrets and half-truths. Jake, true to his word, really wasn’t one to pry, but his calm acceptance gave me the confidence to finally stop hiding from my past.

“Should we be packing?” I asked, though I had no inclination to get out of bed .

As we lay there, Jake traced lazy swirls over my shoulder blades in a way that made it hard for me to keep my eyes open.

My face was pressed into his chest and my lips brushed his skin as I spoke.

I grinned when he fidgeted, then he playfully pinched my hip in retaliation and I yelped when he rolled us so he was smiling down at me, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“We’ve barely worn any clothes,” he pointed out helpfully, “so most of it’s still packed. Besides, I have a better idea.”

I feigned a yawn, then burst out laughing when he blew a raspberry right between my breasts. “What is this grand idea you have?”

“Oh, I think I’d like to make love to you one more time before we go. Nice and easy, so don’t go demanding I speed up, hmm?”

His lips trailed along my sternum, settling against my throat as I sighed softly and tipped my head back to give him room to explore.

After a slow trek upward, his mouth paused at my ear while his hands stroked slowly down the length of my body.

Every nerve ending stood at rapt attention, waiting for his command.

“Slow and gentle,” he murmured. “The way I imagined our first time would be.”

“That’s what you imagined?” I asked, the question punctuated with a gasp. I was already arching against him, responding as he knew I would to both his touch and his low, seductive words. He’d learned that lesson well in our time together .

“Oh, yes. You were so nervous every time I touched your hand—you’ll have to forgive me for not expecting that things would be quite so explosive between us, at least not at first. So today, I’m taking my sweet time.

Not that I’m complaining about the other,” he added casually, even as I wondered how on earth he could continue talking, especially since I felt his growing hardness pressing snugly into my hip, “but every time I touch you, I feel like I’m going to burst into flames. ”

He glanced up at my face just in time to see me cock an amused brow at his little speech, then he captured my nipple in his mouth and my head dropped back against the pillow.

Slow and gentle, I thought distractedly as he grazed the peak with his teeth. Before long, I began to whimper and urge him faster, but he was undeterred.

“Today, my sweet Nora, we are going to practice delayed gratification. Slow,” he said against my skin, “and gentle.”

I gave up trying to change his mind. His patience was truly fathomless, and once he set his mind to a task, there was no swaying him.

With his hands and lips and—sweet heaven—his tongue, he explored, teased, tantalized until every inch of my body was burning with need.

I’d forgotten all about his insistence on not hurrying until he was at long last poised over me, looking down at me with a tenderness that made my chest ache.

Then he kissed me with such exquisite dedication that I remembered in a rush of sensation.

While I'd often felt cared for, worshipped even, in my time with Jake, this soft, slow, sweet kiss made me feel loved .

Even when a tiny sliver of panic invaded my mind over the realization, Jake’s commitment to slow and gentle drew me deep enough to wash away any trace of fear or doubt.

His lips didn’t leave mine as he pressed into me with painstaking care, gliding forward so very slowly, until he was fully sheathed within me.

Maybe you’re just looking for a place to call home.

The words echoed again in my head, spurred by the way he made me feel whole just by sinking into me.

Without speaking, he showed me all he had to offer, poured every heartfelt emotion into making love to me.

With slow, gentle strokes, he filled me again and again, his lips brushing mine in a caress as sweet as nectar.

Instead of a frantic climb toward release, I felt like I was floating upward, lifted by Jake’s careful control and measured strokes. The resulting climax left me quivering beneath him as he slowed even more, just to start the process again.

“Hurricane Nora,” he whispered into my skin. “You are everything.”

When at last the world shattered around us both, he lowered himself against me and together we trembled in the powerful aftermath of what had washed over us. Those last words replaced the echo in my head, wrapping around me like a blanket as my arms clasped him tightly against my heart.

Because he, too, was everything.