Fangs But No Fangs

CHAPTER 19

Jolee clutched Christian's shoulders, leaning into his wonderful kiss. His lips moved over hers, sampling her as if she was some rare delicacy that had to be savored slowly.

She moaned, desire building with each lick, each nibble.

He seemed to sense her rising need, pressing his mouth even more hungrily to hers, deepening the kiss, and sending eddies of need through her veins.

Her hands moved over the hard muscles of his shoulders, down his arms, and then back up again. All through dinner she'd ached for this, for his touch, to touch him. Now that she was here in his arms, it was even more thrilling, more breathtaking than she imagined.

His mouth moved from her lips to brush against her jaw-line, brushes of heated velvet on her skin. She arched against him, her body desperate for more. He moved to rest his forehead against hers. His breathing was as uneven as hers, and she could also feel his body was as aroused as hers. She had to force herself not to rub wantonly against him.

"Jolee, you make me crazy," he muttered, his voice low as if he were trying very hard to control himself. And she knew he was trying to go slow. For her.

She didn't want that control, she realized with a touch of surprise. She wanted him to give her all the passion he held carefully in check. The realization should have appalled her, she knew. With the few other men she dated, it had been ridiculously easy. But then, she'd never wanted another man like she wanted Christian. She ached for him to touch her again, like he had on the car. And she needed to touch him in return, feeling all that lean strength under her hands. She was surely going crazy, too.

"Jolee?" He frowned down at her, concerned that she hadn't reacted other than to stare up at him.

«Christian…» She wanted to tell him that she wanted everything. That she couldn't wait to be with him. But still, in the back of her mind, doubt niggled. They were very much alike in a lot of ways, but they were different, too. Maybe their backgrounds were too different. Maybe he was out of reach.

But he wasn't. He was right here in her arms, and she trusted him. She did, she realized with a small surge of giddiness. And she suddenly felt more confident.

"Christian, I don't want to go slowly. I want to make love with you. Tonight."

Christian was sure that he must be hearing things. He had to be. Hadn't they decided their relationship had to go slow? Hadn't they both admitted that they didn't really know what they were doing in a relationship? He certainly didn't. He didn't have a clue. All of this was totally new to him. But at the same time, he did know that he only felt right when he was holding her.

"Are you sure?" What if this was just an impulsive decision brought on by passion?

She stared at him and nodded. "I've never been more certain."

"But it's rather fast."

She nodded, but the desire in her eyes didn't wane.

"I don't want you to think you made a mistake later." He truly didn't want that. He couldn't bear for her to pull away again. He couldn't bear it if he did something again that caused her to pull away.

She laughed, the sound soft and a little breathless. "The fact that you are trying talk me out of it only makes me more sure."

He blinked at that. "That's all I had to do to convince you?"

She laughed again. "Apparently. Now please just kiss me."

He didn't have to be asked twice. He caught her mouth, nudging her soft lips open so he could taste her and feel her raspy little tongue against his.

A pleased moan vibrated low in her throat and straight into him, creating a violent shiver throughout his whole body. He tightened his hold on her, pressing her fully against him. Their chests, their stomachs, their hips aligned perfectly with only the thin barrier of clothing to separate them. The barrier that had to disappear. He needed to feel her bare skin all around him.

She seemed to feel the same way, rubbing against him. Even through their clothes, he could feel her swollen nipples begging for his touch. A memory of how sweet and ripe those taut little points had tasted caused him to groan. Before he thought better of it, he reached for the hem of her top. Pushing it up, his mouth found the distended nub, sucking it through the cotton of her bra.

She gasped, and her knees threatened to give out from under her. He caught her easily and lifted his head to be sure she was all right. She watched him with heavy-lidded, passion-filled eyes.

He knew he should stop this now. He should steer her to his car, take her home, and make love to her there. But he couldn't seem to let her go even that long. He wanted to satisfy her now. He needed to feel her convulsing release under his hand, and in the air around him.

He balanced her against him so she was draped back in one of his arms, while his other hand moved to her breast. He stroked the rounded flesh, swirling around her nipple again and again until she wiggled, silently begging him for more.

He responded, sliding his hand downward over her bare stomach and the soft denim of her skirt until he reached the hem. He caught it and pushed the material upward until the black cotton of her panties was exposed.

He looked at her as much as their angle would allow, amazed at how beautiful she was. Her breasts rose up and down with her deep, uneven breaths. Her legs were long, lithe, her mound plump under her panties.

He touched her there, through the material. She gasped loudly, bucking against his hand. He stroked her with more pressure, and another whimper escaped her, the sound low and husky. He pressed his lips to hers, in an attempt to hush her little noises, not because he didn't love them. He did. But he could sense others nearby. Not close enough that they could see them in their secluded spot, but certainly close enough to hear.

She responded to his kiss wildly, stroking him with her lips, writhing frantically against his hand. He nudged the crotch of the panties aside, finding her clitoris hidden in the silky, moist folds of her sex. She gasped, and he swallowed the noise into his mouth, savoring it.

Lifting against his finger, she demanded that he touch her harder. He obeyed, swirling his thumb firmly against the tiny nub while he sank a finger inside her, savoring the wet, suctioning heat.

His thumb only made a few more swirls around her aroused flesh, and he felt her vagina convulse around his finger, squeezing him as her violent release scented the air, hot honey and spicy cinnamon.

His own release threatened at the combination of her beautiful body limp under his hand and her heady scent. His erection strained against his zipper, but he forced himself to ignore his need. He wanted her satisfaction far more than his own.

She raised her head, smiling. "Wow… that was… wow."

He smiled down at her, affection laced with his need, making his desire almost unbearably intense. They had to get back to their trailers. He didn't care which one. He just had to make love to her.

But he kissed her again as he removed his hand from her panties, only to cup her through the cotton, molding his fingers to her moist heat. He couldn't bring himself to stop touching her.

"Oh!" a female voice gasped from behind them. Christian immediately dropped his hand from Jolee and smoothed her skirt. Then he broke the kiss to glance over his shoulder at the speaker. Two women stood at the entrance of the gazebo, their open mouths and bulging eyes making them look like croaking toads.

The taller of the two women spoke first. "Sorry. We didn't realize anyone was in here."

The shorter blonde nodded, her mouth still hanging open.

Neither woman moved. They continued to stare. The tall woman even rose up slightly trying to get a glimpse of Jolee.

Christian shifted, using his shoulders to shield Jolee more.

"Good night, then," he finally said, not really caring if he sounded brusque.

Jolee stood stock-still; he even thought she was holding her breath. And he could tell she was mortified. The sooner these two busybodies left the better.

"Good night," he repeated, and the two women suddenly seemed to take the hint. Both of them started, then gave their apologies and bustled away.

Christian started to hold Jolee away from him to see if she was okay, when one of the women said, "Can you believe that? And in a public place, no less."

"Did you see how she was dressed?" the other woman hissed.

"They will let anyone anywhere these days," the first woman agreed dolefully.

"Well, it's clear what he was hoping to get when he brought her here. And he didn't even have to wait long after dinner to get what he paid for."

Both women moved away on a cloud of catty laughter.

Christian felt Jolee, who'd begun to relax a little, stiffen against him. Rage rose up in his chest, his first thought to follow the meddling, hateful women and confront them. But that would only serve to embarrass Jolee more.

"I'd like to go," she said flatly.

"Jolee."

"Please," she said, her even tone breaking just a little at the end.

He nodded, taking her hand. Just once he'd like to give this woman an orgasm without everything falling apart directly afterward.

Jolee allowed Christian to lead her to the car, not seeing the beauty of her surroundings any longer. All she could focus on was her humiliation and her disgust. Both with those women and herself.

She'd only gotten a quick peek of them over Christian's shoulder, but she recognized them immediately. Or at least, she recognized their type. They were immaculately dressed, manicured, coiffed, and they were the same types who'd looked down on her family her whole life. But what bothered her more than them was herself.

She had been kissing Christian like she wanted to swallow him whole, and him with his hand on her… In a public place!

Once in the car, she closed her eyes. She was so disgusted with herself. Her entire life she claimed over and over that she'd never act like her family. A family that existed on gratifying their impulses, no matter how base. Yet she'd been letting Christian finger her at a fancy restaurant, right there in a gazebo overlooking the lake, where anyone could walk by. Where they were supposed to walk by.

She cringed at her own description of what they'd been doing, but it was the truth. He had been. And she'd been loving it. Not even thinking about her surroundings or how she must appear. How she even appeared to him.

"They didn't see anything," Christian said.

She nodded, too embarrassed to talk. They'd obviously seen enough. And they'd certainly said enough.

Neither spoke as he pulled out of the restaurant's parking lot and headed back toward Shady Fork. Back to the dumpy trailer park where she belonged.

She wanted to look over at him, see his expression, but she was too much of a wimp. Chicken that she was, she couldn't bear to look over and see his dismay— or worse, his disgust.

The silence continued for several miles, until Christian downshifted and she heard the quiet clicking of the blinker. He pulled over into the breakdown lane and put the car into neutral. For an instant, she wondered if he was going to kick her out off the car. No, Christian was too classy for that.

"Jolee, look at me," he said, his voice low, the words clipped.

She obeyed, to find him turned in his seat as much as the steering wheel would allow.

"What's going on?" His eyes roamed her face, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Big surprise.

She looked away again, staring out her window at the darkness. She didn't want to talk about this right now. Embarrassment and shame were too vivid at the moment.

A vague, shadowy memory like the sway of the trees outside appeared in her mind. An image of her sister, Libby Ann, sprawled against the side of Chubby's Diner on Route 8 in Sawyersville. A local boy, a kid who'd never talked to the likes of a Dugan, stood with his pants down around his knees, pumping into her. Right there, near the smelly old dumpster out back.

Even now that memory made Jolee feel ill. And she'd just been doing something not too terribly different. The only difference being that she'd been near a beautiful lake rather than a stinky metal dumpster.

She still couldn't bring herself to look over at Christian. A man who also wouldn't have given a Dugan the time of day if strange circumstances that she still didn't understand hadn't brought them together. And like that kid— Jolee didn't remember his name now, but she did remember his contemptuous laugh as he and his buddies left Libby Ann against that back wall— would Christian leave?

"Can we just go home?" she said, so disgusted with herself.

Christian didn't move for a minute, then she heard the leather seat creak, and he shifted the car into gear.

Jolee just needed to get back to her trailer. And rethink what she was doing.