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But she thought about it anyway.
And the thoughts, making a kaleidoscope of her mind, sent her temperature rising. She could see them naked, the sun beating down on their bare skin, the dry wind swirling around them. Cage naked, his toasty skin garnished with that soft golden brown body hair. And herself, shyly baring herself to the elements, to the man.
The fantasy made her mouth water.
She saw herself touching him, saw her hands gliding over those sleek bare arms, saw her fingertips tracing the veins that showed beneath the surface, saw her fingers winding through that soft pelt on his chest.
She saw him touching her, saw his strong hands reaching out gently to caress her breasts and their aching crests, to slide down her belly to her thighs, to touch—
"I need to get back." She turned and virtually ran across the patio and through the house as though the devil were after her. Cage didn't have a forked tail and horns, but the simile wasn't all that inaccurate.
He caught up with her on the porch and she waited stiffly beside him while he relocked the door of the house. When he took her arm to guide her down the steps, she flinched away from him. "Is something wrong, Jenny?"
"No, no, of course not," she said, wetting her dry lips with a nervously flicking tongue. "I like your house."
Why was she acting like this? Cage wasn't going to hurt her. She had known him for years, lived in the same house with him when he came home for summer vacations from college.
Why now did he suddenly seem like a stranger to her, yet one she knew better than any other human being on earth? She hadn't shared her heart with Cage the way she had with Hal during their quiet discussions. But she felt a kinship with this man that was beyond reason or explanation. Why?
Feelings for him churned inside her. They were all so foreign, all so sexual. But, miraculously and unnervingly, all so right.
"Okay, you've been initiated," he said, jumping onto the cycle once she had resumed her place. He revved the engine. "Hang on tight, girl."
"Cage!"
That was the last full breath she drew. He sped down the highway until the landscape was no more than a blur. Hanging on for dear life, she clung to him, no longer timorous about splaying her hands wide over his stomach and gluing her front to his back. Her thighs cradled his hips and she propped her chin on his shoulder.
When they reached the street of the parsonage, he slowed down considerably but jumped the curb and weaved in and out of the mulberry trees that some civic-minded individual had planted there decades ago. There were no pedestrians, so it was safe, but Jenny squealed, "You're crazy, Cage Hendren!"
They were gasping with laughter when he pulled into the driveway of the parsonage and killed the motor. "Want to go again tomorrow?" he asked over his shoulder.
She climbed off and her knees nearly buckled beneath her. Excitement had robbed her of equilibrium and it took her a moment to regain it while she clutched his shoulder. "No. Definitely not. That last ride was death defying."
Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes shone green. Cage had never seen her smile quite like this. Gone was the conservative mask she hid behind. Jenny had an adventurous streak to her nature and he was seeing it emerge for the first time.
He got off the bike and pulled the helmet from his head.
"Pretty soon you'll get the hang of it." He helped her with her own helmet and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to comb his fingers through her matted hair. "Next time we'll break the sound barrier."
He draped his arm around her shoulders. Still weak-kneed, she slumped against his support and looped her arm around his waist. Together they staggered toward the back door.
It opened. Bob stepped out onto the steps. He looked at Cage accusingly, then at Jenny. His hard expression brought them to an abrupt halt.
"Dad?" "Bob?" they asked in unison.
But they already knew.
"My son is dead."
* * *
Chapter 4
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"Jenny?"
Cage's urgent whisper elicited no response.
