Heaven's Gift aka Kiss of an Angel

Chapter Nine

Three hours later, hot, restless, and still aroused, J.T. lay in bed, cursing the woman down the hall for the sensual effect she had on him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hungry for the feel of a woman pressed beneath him. Not just any woman, but Caitlan.

The sound of the guest bedroom's door creaking open broke the night's silence. J.T. listened, unmoving but alert. Recognizing Caitlan's tentative booted steps on the wooden floor, he frowned. Seconds later he heard the latch on the front door unlock, and the squeak of the hinges when she opened the door.

He bolted upright in bed. Where in the hell was she going at one-thirty in the morning? Damn!

Caitlan of all people should've known better than to roam around the ranch alone, especially at night, when an "accident" could easily befall her.

Fearful for her safety, J.T. threw the covers off his naked body and jumped out of bed. Hastily, he pulled on his jeans and donned the shirt he'd shucked only hours before. Within minutes he was dressed, boots on, and out the front door, his fear congealing into anger at her foolishness. The emotion ran parallel with the tense, aroused state of his body.

Caitlan wasn't on the porch, or anywhere around the close perimeter of the house, from what he could see. Pure instinct had him heading for the barn, the glow from the full moon guiding the way. The cold night air wrapped around him, yet the welcoming chill did nothing to temper the heated blood running through his veins. Only one woman had the cure for that.

She'd left the barn door open and he slipped in quietly. Her soft voice drifted to him. Was she with someone, he wondered, unable to stop thoughts of another woman's infidelity. He had no ties to Caitlan, but he found himself silently praying she was alone, that she wasn't out here to meet one of his men. Jealousy, an unfamiliar emotion, coiled tightly inside him.

Stopping in the shadows of the last stall, he saw her, standing by King's Ransom. Alone. She was talking to the stallion, sweet, encouraging words and praise. The tension cramping the muscles across his shoulders slackened, and he released a long, slow breath.

Curbing the impulse to make himself known and chastise Caitlan for going against his orders to stay away from King, he watched her cajole the animal into accepting whatever she extended in her hand through the slats. Sugar cubes, J.T. guessed, mesmerized by the gentle way the normally crazed stallion nuzzled the treat from her palm, then allowed her to stroke his nose before sidestepping away. How in the hell did she manage to calm the beast?

She laughed softly, the sound curling around J.T. like a narcotic. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it, King?" Pulling back her hand, she brushed her palm on her skirt. "You know I won't hurt you, don't you, boy?"

The horse gave a soft snort as his reply but didn't venture back to her.

The moonlight filtering into the barn from the loft window gave Caitlan an ethereal appearance, shimmering off her hair like a halo. Taking in the view of her profile, J.T. put to memory every delicate feature of her face. God, she was beautiful. Not in an elegant sense, but in a way that went deeper than the surface. Much, much deeper.

Suddenly she straightened, glancing over her shoulder toward where he stood cloaked in the shadows. "J.T.?"

How did she know it was him? Or had she just guessed? Not wanting to scare her, he stepped into the beam of moonlight so she could see him, feeling a little guilty that she'd caught him spying on her.

"It's late, Caitlan." He tried to summon some authority, but his tone lacked conviction, so he gave up the pretense for something more basic and honest: concern. "You shouldn't be out here alone."

She didn't seem all that surprised to see him. A beguiling smile curved her mouth. "Then come keep me company."

Had he only imagined the sultry invitation in her voice? Probably so, considering everything she said and did took on a provocative aspect. "It's past one-thirty." Hooking his thumbs through his belt loops, he moved toward her slowly, lazily. "You should be in bed."

She lifted a brow, playfully flitting to the back of the barn. "Are you ordering me to bed?"

Damn. That time he hadn't mistaken the huskiness and desire in her voice. Suddenly, subtly, the game changed, and he wanted to play by whatever rules she set down. "Would you go if I am?" he challenged, following her.

She shrugged, giving him an upswept look that held an arousing combination of innocence and temptation. "I suppose not. I'm not tired."

In a lithe move he backed her against a nearby wall and propped a hand on one side of her head, leaving the other side open so she could escape if she wanted to. Surprise flared in her eyes, then simmered to a sensual heat that matched the flame licking along his body.

Caressing his knuckles down her soft cheek, he slipped his hand inside the collar of her shirt, resting his palm on the warm curve where her neck and shoulder joined. Drawing his thumb along her jaw, he said very deliberately, "I've got the perfect cure for insomnia."

Her luminous gaze darkened and she swallowed. He followed the movement down her throat with his thumb, stopping at the quickening pulse at the base of her neck. Beneath the touch of his fingers on her shoulder, a delicate shiver stole through her.

"You're cold." He shifted closer to share his body heat. His thighs rubbed provocatively against hers. "You should've put on your jacket."

Another tremor ran the length of her. "I'll be fine." Her voice was a breathy whisper of sound.

Pushing her chin up with his thumb, he lowered his head to meet her lips. "I can make you warm," he promised huskily. Brushing his mouth over hers, softly, tenderly, something unraveled deep inside him, a yearning and a hunger he could no longer deny.

He nibbled on her full bottom lip and ran his tongue over her smooth teeth, needing to taste her deep inside. "I want you, Caitlan," he growled.

She gave a slight shake of her head. "We can't do this," she said, even as her lips parted to allow him access to the moist, sweet recesses of her mouth.

Hearing the wistful catch to her voice that contradicted her objection, he pulled back just enough to capture her gaze. Feminine awareness flickered in her eyes, another contradiction. "Why not, Caitlan? We've both been fighting this from the first day we met."

Confusion and uncertainty creased her brow. Reaching up, she touched her fingers to his stubbled jaw. "When you touch me I feel things I know I shouldn't."

He chuckled softly. "Are you that innocent?" Leaning close, he nuzzled the sensitive flesh just below her ear with his lips and damp tongue, giving her plenty to feel and experience. "It's called lust, Caitlan," he whispered in her ear just before his tongue traced the delicate orifice.

She moaned and shuddered at the sensual onslaught, then shook her head. Grabbing his face between her palms, she made him look at her. "No, it's more than that. It's an… emotional link." She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes smoldering with passion and apprehension. "I can't fight it any longer, J.T. You feel too perfect for me, yet I know I shouldn't give in… "

An emotional link. J.T.'s first instinct was to scoff at the idea, but damn if he didn't feel that link, too. Refusing to analyze those disturbing emotions, he focused on what he knew he could handle for the moment: their desire for one another, and quenching the need burning him up like flame.

"Is that all you feel?" he asked, moving his hips against hers in a slow, evocative motion.

Her head fell back, her eyes closed, her answer a soft, enticing moan. Her hands slipped from his face to clutch his shoulders in wild abandon.

"Look at me, Caitlan," he ordered in a low, rough voice. "Tell me what your body feels."

Opening her eyes, she ran her tongue across her bottom lip, her breathing deep with the beginnings of sensual excitement. "I feel… strange. Tingly and warm all over."

He smiled, loving how utterly honest she was, how innocentdespite her allure. "That's a good start. Now let me showyou how you make me feel." Wedging a thigh between hers, he pressed his aching arousal to that natural feminine cove. He groaned as the length of him throbbed and strained against the fly of his jeans, and against her. He hated the layers of clothing separating their flesh.

"You make me hot and hard and hungry for you," he whispered darkly, his bold words made more provocative by their clandestine setting and the shocking way he moved against her. "I want you as restless as I am. I want you to feel that frenzied excitement build deep inside until you want to explode. That's exactly where I am, Caitlan, and exactly where I want you to be."

A small sound slipped past her lips, a whimper of need and eagerness tinged with the barest hesitation. "I already feel it."

"There's more." Moving slowly, giving her enough time to protest if she wanted to, he dropped his mouth over her parted lips, kissing her slow and wet and deep and lazy. Over and over again, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, touching and tangling with the sleek length of hers, until a moan of pleasure rolled up from her throat, until she clung to him, responding with a quick, fiery need.

Her body flowed into his and she rubbed against him, her hands moving over his chest and shoulders, seeking the hard contours of muscle and heat. A primitive shudder ran the length of him.

It no longer mattered that he'd sworn he wouldn't touch her. He needed her too badly. She was so sweet, her response so warm and open, she selflessly gave him the simple pleasure and wonder of feeling alive again.

Desire flared like wildfire in him, urging him onward. His blood pulsed in hot, heavy beats, and even as he denied the softening emotions stirring within him for Caitlan, he admitted to the desperate need to know more of her.

Flattening a palm over her collarbone just inside her shirt, he savored the velvet texture of her soft skin. His hand brushed against the chain around her neck. The heated gold singed his fingertips. While his other hand deftly unfastened the buttons down the front of her shirt, he hooked the chain around his index finger, slowly sliding down to where the medallion nestled between her breasts.

Ravishing her mouth with his, apprehensive but intrigued by the lure of the medallion and what had happened that day at the creek when he'd touched it, he defiantly grasped the pendant in his palm.

Caitlan gasped audibly and jerked back, but J.T. determinedly pressed closer and deepened the wet, silken kiss until, with a whimper, her resistance melted away and she surrendered to him. The medallion scorched his hand, but he ruthlessly clutched the gold. Seconds later, his efforts were rewarded. A shimmering heat radiated up his arm and flowed through his veins to every nerve ending. A charge of energy jolted him, electrifying him to the core of his soul. His body shuddered, wracked with mind-blowing sensations. He moaned as in the next instant the impression of being in perfect harmony with Caitlan cascaded through him, a blending of spirits, hearts, and bodies so unequivocally woven he never wanted to release her. He grew incredibly hard, painfully so, the mystifying experience inflaming his ardor.

He tore his mouth from hers, needing to know if she'd experienced the strange coupling too, or if he was slowly going crazy. One look in her eyes, bright with awareness, confirmed that she'd been with him all the way, and that she was as aroused as he by the encounter. They both panted for air, and when he pressed his free hand over her left breast her heart beat wildly beneath his palm.

"You're mine," he said fiercely, shaken by the depth of emotion accompanying the statement. Where had the possessive words come from?

"Yes," she whispered in return, her voice husky and needy.

Letting go of the medallion, J.T. tugged on the knot of her shirt, desperate to explore every inch of her with his eyes and hands, desperate to make Caitlan his in every way. Fumbling with the front clasp of her bra, he dipped his head to string a line of wet, hot, openmouthed kisses down the side of her throat.

J.T. thought he heard Caitlan murmur, "please," but couldn't be sure for the blood rushing through his head and every other vital part of his body. He lifted his mouth from the warm, fragrant hallow of her neck and shoulder just as the clasp on her bra gave way. Her full, perfect breasts spilled into his waiting hands, her pale skin gleaming in the moonlight. Her nipples drew into tight buds, from his gaze or the cold air, he couldn't be sure. Grazing his thumbs over the stiff crests, he illicited a moan of pleasure from her that echoed his own enjoyment in just watching her uninhibited response. He glanced up into her face. Her gaze was heavy-lidded with passion, any uncertainty she might have harbored minutes ago replaced by encouragement.

Her approval was all the inducement he needed. Lowering his head, he dragged his tongue across her collarbone and leisurely downward, toward the bountiful offering he held in his hands. She started at the first sweep of his tongue around the bottom swell of her breast; she moaned and slid her fingers into his hair when he opened his mouth wide over a nipple and suckled deeply, strongly, his fingers kneading the soft flesh.

A shudder passed through her and she arched toward him. Holding his mouth to her breast, she showed him in that one daring move that she needed him, this wondrous contact, as much as he needed her.

Lifting his head, he guided her slender hands to the buttons on his shirt. He braced his palms on the wall on either side of her head, looking at her flushed face. "Open my shirt, Caitie," he told her. "I want to feel your breasts against me."

She attempted the task but couldn't coordinate her trembling fingers to slip the buttons through the holes. After a moment that seemed more like an eternity to J.T., he laughed abruptly and impatiently brushed her hands aside to do the deed himself. An ever-widening V quickly appeared with each button, all the way down to his belly.

The sudden cool touch of her hands on his heated flesh excited him beyond what he believed to be possible. Her palms smoothed over his chest in a timid exploration, the muscles in his belly rippling. Reining in his control and once again bracing his palms on the wall behind her, he curled his fingers into tight fists against the rough, cool wood. He granted her license to touch and explore, knowing it would cost him dearly but uncaring because her light caresses had him blazing like a match to dry kindling.

She looked up at him, her gaze shining with awe and sensual enjoyment. "You feel so good, like silk and steel…"She plucked a nipple and he drew in a quick breath, a shy, but wholly seductive smile curving her mouth. Her tongue bathed her bottom lip with moisture, and she slowly leaned forward, tentatively touching her tongue to the flat brown disc, tasting him.

Everything in J.T. coiled up tight, and he hissed at the exquisite sensations darting through him. Desire pooled heavily in his groin, pulsing, throbbing. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled her mouth back under his. "Enough," he said gruffly, pleasure and pain meshing. "I'm going to die if I don't feel you against me now." He captured her mouth at the same time that he crushed his chest against her breasts. Their mutual moans of satisfaction filled the dim barn.

Releasing her hair, he slowly slid his hands down the slope of her back and over the curve of her bottom. He lifted her tighter against him, reveling in the soft sounds she made, the way her hands went wild on him, on his chest, in his hair. He bunched her skirt in his fist and drew up the material, exposing her thighs to the cool night air. Softening their kisses, he whispered against her mouth, "Hold your skirt for me, sweetheart." Having Caitlan's hands immobile and off him gave J.T. time to shore up his control again. There was too much he wanted to do to her, with her, and she already had him on the edge.

Mindless with want, Caitlan ignored the little voice inside her head warning her of the consequences that could result from her actions. After the arousing, soul-blending incident with the medallion she was burning up inside, aching to be filled, aching to experience everything J.T. had to offer. Doing as he'd ordered, she curled her fingers around the chambray and petticoat, holding the ruffles up for him.

"Good girl," he murmured. Running his hands up her thigh, he slipped his long, callused fingers beneath the band of her panties to cup her bottom. She let out a soft sigh, and he smiled.

"You have the warmest, softest skin," he said, dragging his fingers around so his thumbs brushed the soft curls between her legs in a butterfly caress.

She drew in a deep quivering breath at the husky tone of his voice and his light, teasing touch. When she looked into his eyes she saw that his desire matched her own. No matter how wrong this was, she knew she wanted this intimacy, and more. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but for tonight she was his.

Slowly, he knelt before her. Caitlan sensed his determination to take things slow, for her sake and pleasure as well as his own. He hooked his thumbs beneath the elastic band of her panties and slowly pulled them down, and her passion grew with every inch he exposed. His gaze devoured her like hot, licking flames of fire.

She felt no shame, only a soul-shattering longing to give him whatever he wanted from her. Her emotions were so riveting, the yearning to be with him so devestatingly powerful, she experienced a moment of panic and tried to move away. "J.T.-"

"Shhh, he said, pressing his palms on her thighs, preventing her escape. "Please let me."

Caitlan heard the ragged need in his voice, the throaty plea that bordered on sheer urgency, because it mirrored her own swirling emotions. Unable to deny what her body and soul craved, she allowed him to draw her panties down, over her boots. He helped her step out of them; then he absently stuffed the scrap of silk in his back pocket.

He sat back on his heels, not touching her when she wished he would, his gaze charting a slow, heated path up the length of her, lingering in places that craved his caress. Warmth stung her cheeks, and she closed her eyes to hide her embarrassment, knowing she must look like a shameless hussy, half clothed, breasts pouting, skirt clutched in her fists to reveal the part of her that wanted his touch so badly. Everything was bared to him, and she idly wondered if he could see or sense the deep, abiding love blooming inside her heart for him.

Love. Oh, dear Lord, she couldn't be falling in love with him!

"Look at me, Caitie." The restraint in his voice belied his heavy, aroused breathing.

Her lashes fluttered open and she glanced down at him, blushing all over again when she saw the carnal heat in his gaze. She started to lower the skirt to hide from his hungry eyes.

"No, don't," he said abruptly, stopping her. He moved closer, adoring her with his gaze. "You're so beautiful."

With him, she felt beautiful, euphoric.

The unexpected sigh of his hot, damp breath on her inner thigh sent a bolt of liquid heat surging through her, nearly short-circuiting her nerves. His strong hands held her quivering thighs apart and supported her when her knees would have buckled. She realized his brazen, erotic intent in the way his tongue caressed her flesh-long, soft strokes that teased and tantalized in an attempt to coax her thighs farther apart for him.

"J.T.," she gasped, hating how her voice trembled with uncertainty and the desire for him to continue with his sensual invasion. The tug-of-war of emotions raging inside her confused her, wanting J.T. to continue, but knowing how wrong it would be to let him take her any higher.

But the sensations didn't feel wrong, not with J.T.

"Open for me, Caitie," he murmured huskily, and when she finally did he groaned deep in his throat and pressed his mouth against the apex of her thighs, tracing the soft, alluring folds with his tongue, probing delicately.

Caitlan moaned at the exquisite feelings J.T. evoked in her, soaring her out of control, past the stars and the heavens. He pushed her closer to a place she knew would be nothing short of paradise.

J.T. reveled in Caitlan's open response, loving the breathless catch in her throat and the lush, petal softness of her desire. He nuzzled her softly, wanting to savor the sweetness of her, wanting to fill himself with every secret, silken part of her. He tasted her sensual melting just as her panting filled his head. Knowing she neared the crest, he splayed his hands on her quivering thighs, lending whatever support he could.

Then it came, the tiny spasms rippling through her. He listened to her breathless moan of pleasure; then his name slipped past her lips as the tremors subsided.

In a fluid movement he stood, ignoring the stiffness in his knees for the beautiful expression on Caitlan's face. Before she had a chance to float back to earth, before the edge of her climax ebbed away, he pulled her leg around his hips, pressing denim against her sensitive flesh, and let her get used to the hard, thick length of him, and the idea of them joining completely.

Her eyes widened in shock, but before she could say anything he covered her lips with his and thrust his tongue into her mouth, kissing her slowly, deeply, showing her how good she tasted, like warm, silky honey and feminine satisfaction. He showed her with the deep stroking of his tongue how he wanted to make love to her body. Showing her, again and again, that he couldn't get enough of her, that tasting her, kissing her, touching her, was nothing compared to the way he wanted to fill her and make her his. Only his. He ached with a raw need so powerful it threatened the shields around his heart. The emotion frightened the hell out of him, but he refused to give up the sweet softness and solace Caitlan's body offered.

Caitlan wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. Twisting sinuously, she rubbed against him, pleasuring herself and at the same time arousing him to the point of exploding. She went wild, arching closer, and when he heard those broken whimpers begin, signaling how close she was to climaxing yet again, he pulled away from her, letting her leg go.

She gave a cry of protest, and he palmed her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb. "Tell me what you want, Caitlan," he demanded. He tried to shake the vulnerability creeping up on him, the feeling of becoming so totally lost in Caitlan that he'd never be the same again.

She looked like a wanton gypsy, her disheveled hair framing her pretty face, her lips swollen from his kisses. Her eyes were limpid with passion and something deeper and more touching that J.T. didn't want to analyze. "I want…" She looked away, a timid catch to her voice.

Damn, he couldn't believe she was so flustered after everything he'd done to her, everything she'd done so uninhibitedly. With his finger beneath her chin, he brought her gaze back to his. "Tell me, Caitie," he urged.

"I want you," she pleaded in a ragged whisper. "I want this. Please."

Her confession should have brought him satisfaction. Instead, he experienced a startling wave of emotion that gripped his heart. He refused to fully acknowledge the growing feeling.

Guiding her hand to the front of his jeans, he cupped her palm over the burgeoning ridge there, leaving the ultimate decision up to her. "If you want me, then help me, Caitlan. Show me exactly what you want and I'll give it to you. I'll make it so good you'll be addicted, and I'll give you as much as you want… " He let his words drift away, giving her the option of halting their lovemaking if she wanted to.

Her fingers trembled, but she didn't pull away.

A reluctant kind of acquiescence shimmered in her eyes, as if she couldn't help wanting him, any more than he could control how being one with her was becoming as essential as breathing.

"Once I'm deep inside of you they'll be no turning back," he went on. "The choice is yours, Caitie, but make your decision fast."

She did then, tugging at his zipper and freeing him. Groaning at her sweet surrender, he wrapped her fingers around his length, moving slowly, sliding against her cool palm. When the building pressure shoved him to the very edge he drew her leg around his waist once again, but this time nothing separated their flesh.

"Wrap both of your legs around me, Caitie," he said, and she did, circling her arms around his neck at the same time. Her nipples grazed his chest; their bellies rubbed erotically. Bracing her against the wall, he tilted her hips for his entrance. She was wet, very wet, and slick from spent passion, but as he pushed inside her, she stiffened and whimpered, burying her face into his shoulder.

J.T.'s body shook. She was tight, so tight he suspected this was her first time, or very close to it. But he was at a point where he couldn't stop, not even if someone put a gun to his head. Ignoring the instinctive urge to thrust deeply, he murmured soft words to her, entering her slowly. He pulled her legs as high and tight as he could around him, and with a sweet little cry she arched and he slid into that satin sheath to the hilt. He groaned as liquid heat engulfed him, fusing them as one. They fit perfectly together, he thought, as if they had been made for one another.

Wanting to lose himself in the magic of her, he moved slowly, then thrust harder, sliding deeper, over and over, until her moans of pleasure mingled with his.

Still, he didn't let go, found he couldn't release that knot winding tighter and tighter within him. With each silken stroke, the flame of desire burned hotter, incinerating his original carnal hunger into deeper, more intense emotions. He'd told her he couldn't care, but he was feeling and needing and she was the reason.

And somehow he'd known it would come to this. From the first moment in the line shack when he'd woken to find her beneath him, he'd known he'd have her. Then it had been pure lust. Now the white-hot need ribboned around his soul, tugging him beyond the realm of reality.

She whimpered his name, a throaty plea to end the madness he created. Her fingers dug into the muscles in his back, her legs gripped him tight, and she rubbed her breasts against his chest, begging him for the pleasure waiting on the horizon.

But she was the one who held the key to their fulfillment, he thought in a desire-filled haze. He didn't want to spiral over that crest without her, and vaguely wondered when he'd become so chivalrous, putting a woman's needs before his own. With Caitlan, it mattered.

"C'mon, Caitie," he whispered huskily in her ear, tempering his strokes to slow, deep thrusts that filled her up, then retreating until she cried for him. "Be greedy, sweetheart. Take it all and let it happen."

And then it did. Her lashes fell to sultry half slits and she moaned softly, tossing her head back. She looked beautiful, tousled and incredibly sexy while she took her pleasure. The medallion grew hot where it was crushed between his chest and hers, a tingly heat that showered through his veins like sparks of wild lightning, giving him the sensation of being one with Caitlan, she the other half of him he'd been waiting a lifetime for.

Ecstasy swelled up and through him like an explosion, and he surged one final time, surrendering himself to her without any barriers. Endless pulses of release wracked his body, the rapture piercing and overwhelming. He groaned, low and deep and animal-like, luxuriating in the exquisite awareness of being alive again, of feeling so deeply, so intimately joined with Caitlan. She erased the loneliness and absolute despair he'd been living with for sixteen long years.

Emotionally and physically satiated, J.T. sank to his knees on the cool earth floor, taking Caitlan with him so she straddled his lap and their bodies remained joined. Uncaring of his jeans bunched beneath him and the uncomfortable position, his only thought was that he didn't want to let her go, didn't want the emptiness and coldness that was sure to pour back into him once she left him.

He wondered if he was the one who'd become addicted.

In the quiet aftermath he held her close, reveling in the erratic beating of her heart against his, savoring the way she clung to him, body trembling, face buried in his neck, her breath warm on his damp skin. That damnable medallion had cooled some, but the impression of gold seared his flesh. He soothingly skimmed his hands down her back, over the swell of her hip, then up under her skirt to caress the soft, warm flesh of her inner thighs. He grew hard again, impossibly hard, wanting her with a sudden raw need that should have surprised him but didn't. Not anymore.

Leaving the temptation to touch her where they joined, to start another raging fire with a gentle stroke over her petal-soft folds, he lifted his hands to her hair, tangling the strands between his fingers. Gently, he lifted her head from his shoulder, wanting to reassure himself that she was okay.

The dazed expression on her face he understood; he felt the same way. However, the confusion shimmering in her violet eyes grabbed at him. "Are you okay?" His voice was a hushed whisper in the dark confines of the barn.

Caitlan nodded jerkily, not trusting herself to speak. She was still reeling from the flare of sensations that had burgeoned through her body the moment she'd splintered apart with pleasure. She tried sorting through the multitude of emotions, and the way the medallion had heated against her flesh, the molten fire of it nearly making her breathless.

And then she'd been drawn into J.T., physically and emotionally, sapped of every living force she possessed. The connection to him had been powerful, an undeniable pull. In the distance a wisp of a promise had beckoned to her, luring her closer and closer, until she'd been swept into the vortex, her heart blending with J.T.'s, her soul meshing with his in a complete oneness.

She wanted to explore what had happened, but the crazy things J.T. was doing to her body, the lazy, arousing slide of his hands down her back, under her skirt, cupping her breast, prevented coherent thought. She ignored the uncomfortable bite of the dirt floor digging into her knees, and the cold night air caressing her bare flesh, in favor of J.T.'s warm, reviving touch.

"I want you again, Caitlan," he said, his mouth open and hot and wet against her throat. Pulling her hips closer, he buried the thick, hard length of him deeper inside her. It occured to him then that she deserved better than to be taken in a barn, with the smell of horses, hay, and tack filling the air. "Come to my bed with me."

"Yes," she sighed. Letting her mind drift, the increasing tingling heat from the medallion began to spread throughout her body and downward, where they melded together. Curling her fingers into his shoulders, she clamped her thighs tightly against his hips.

"Ah, hell," he growled against her neck, rocking her urgently against him. "I don't think I can wait that long."

Neither did she. Basking in his caresses, her body hummed. A delicious pressure blossomed in her belly, electrifying her, causing her to move on J.T. in a shameless rhythm. He watched her, his eyes growing dark with desire, his hands on her strong and sure as they cupped her hips. Softer sensations wove through her, a longing to blend her heart with J.T.'s. Those strange sensations sizzled along her nerves again, and she closed her eyes, trying to grasp an elusive something teasing the edges of her mind.

Then it came. The name filtered through her mind, then slipped naturally from her lips, without thought or conscious provocation. "Johnny," she murmured softly.

J.T. stiffened, his blood turning to ice in his veins. A bucket of cold water couldn't have been more effective in dousing his arousal. Caitlan blinked her eyes open, looking just as surprised by the name she'd spoken.

"What did you say?" he said very calmly, wanting to believe he'd only misheard her. But he knew in his gut she'd called him by a name he'd hadn't heard for sixteen years. Since the night Amanda died.

Her gaze turned wary, snuffing out the desire. "Johnny," she repeated cautiously, as if she knew she'd said something wrong but wasn't quite sure what the ramifications were.

A sensation of being suffocated cloaked J.T. He had to get away from Caitlan, who'd suddenly, alarmingly, reminded him too much of Amanda. Those violet eyes of hers seem to lure him in, mesmerizing him, taunting him. A heavy pressure clamped around his chest, anxiety mixing with panic.

He shook his head, trying to keep his composure intact. Damn, between that medallion that always heated up whenever he touched it, and now with Caitlan calling him Johnny when he hadn't even told her his full name, he was beginning to feel like he was living in the Twilight Zone, lost between the past and the present. Ever since she'd come to the Circle R-hell, ever since she'd saved him-weird, unexplainable things had been happening between them.

Irritated by incidents he didn't understand, needing to put distance between himself and Caitlan, he lifted her from his lap. As soon as her body left his, a black, chilling emptiness consumed his soul.

She straightened up on shaky legs and smoothed her hand down her skirt, but that one act of modesty did nothing to reform the tousled, thoroughly loved woman who had been in his arms only minutes before. She still looked entirely too tempting, with her breasts still bared, and he kept from reaching for her again by thinking about what she'd called him.

Standing, he hitched up his jeans and zipped his fly, then started on the buttons on his shirt. She turned away from him and began straightening her own clothes. After everything they'd just shared the vulnerability in her movements slammed into him like a fist. Tender, forgiving emotions crept up on him, but he shoved them aside for more pressing matters.

"Why did you call me that?" he asked, his unexpectedly harsh tone shattering the silence.

Caitlan closed her eyes for a moment, trying to chase away the confusion swirling in her mind. And then there was this rejection she wasn't prepared to deal with, and the ripping pain in her soul it had caused. Opening her eyes, she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I don't know why. It just slipped out."

He jammed his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowing. "How the hell did you even know my name?"

The question startled her, and she grasped for the most logical answer. "I heard one of the hands call you John."

He let out a grunt of disbelief. "The hands nevercall me John, Caitlan. Most of them don't even know what J.T. stands for. And nobody calls me Johnny," he said fiercely. "Nobody."

Nobody but Amanda, Caitlan thought, recalling her visions and the nickname Amanda called J.T. But why had she called him Johnny?

"Here," he said, bringing her out of her thoughts.

She reached for the panties dangling from the tips of his fingers. Face heating at the remembered intimacy and her uninhibited response to him, she quickly pulled them on.

"Come on; let's go on back to the house," he said coolly.

They walked to the house in silence. Caitlan could practically feel J.T. emotionally withdrawing from her. He was cool and remote, like the man she'd first met at the line shack. Gone was the tender lover and the gentle man she'd discovered over the past few days. She had the uncharacteristic urge to cry out at the loss. So many feelings and sensations clamored within her, all of them directly linked to J.T., and she didn't have a clue as to why.

And, more importantly, why wasn't she able to control her emotions with J.T., as she normally could with everyone else? Her heart overflowed with an indescribable feeling, a shattering realization that frightened her, for she knew there would be heavenly repercussions.

She loved J.T.