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Chapter Five
Adam
Shit!
I collapsed back on the sofa, forcing myself not to go after Belle. My body was on fire, my dick aching behind the zipper of my suit pants. I could no longer deny the effect Belle had on me. She’d inched her way under my skin from the moment she’d entered the room on our wedding day, looking like a vision. Only now was I realizing just how deep she’d burrowed.
I’d lost control. Said things I shouldn’t have said. But, God, I wanted her! She was beautiful, inside and out. She radiated a pureness of spirit that drew me to her like gravity. I wouldn’t be responsible for dimming that glow, even though every cell in my body was screaming at me to claim her, to make her my wife in every sense of the word.
But what kind of man would that make me? I was pretty fucking sure that Cora’s dying wish to take care of Belle hadn’t included me playing hide the sausage with her.
I owed Cora so much. There was no doubting that I would’ve ended up in foster care after my parents died if she hadn’t stepped in to take on the son of her nearest neighbors and best friends. She’d given me a roof over my head, food in my belly, and she’d loved me just as fiercely as any parent.
Which is why I hadn’t been able to refuse her request when she’d come to me about the loophole in her will. At the time, marrying Belle had seemed like a small price to pay for the sacrifices Cora had made me for me. After all, it was just a piece of paper. A business transaction of sorts. No messy emotions, just two people signing a legal document in an attempt to prevent Belle’s stepfather from laying claim to this place.
Cora had kept her cancer diagnosis to herself for months, not sharing it with Belle, Jolie, or myself. That was typical of Cora. She hadn’t wanted the fuss and sympathy that would come with the news of her illness. She knew Belle would’ve returned to Jasper immediately to be with her, but Cora hadn’t wanted that. She’d wanted Belle to stay in Medicine Bow, where she’d built a life for herself.
Then Jolie had died, and that had seemed to suck the last of the fighting spirit from Cora. No parent should outlive their child—Cora had only managed it by a few months. I wasn’t a religious man, but I truly hoped that if there was such a thing as an afterlife, she was there with her husband and daughter and at peace now.
I reminded myself that I wasn’t the only one grieving Cora’s death. Belle was, too. She’d been through hell in the last few months, losing first her mother and then Cora. Not to mention dealing with her asshole of a stepfather in recent years.
I frowned. I hadn’t given Belle the credit she was due. She’d had to grow up fast. As a result, she was more mature than many women her age. I’d accused her of not knowing what she wanted, of having some misguided crush on me. But what if it was more than that? What if I was denying myself the pleasure of being with her and throwing away a precious gift in the process?
The death of a loved one had a way of making you look at your own life, of wanting to grab every opportunity with both hands. Which is what I wanted to do with Belle—grab her with both hands because when I was with her, I felt alive in a way I never had before.
I sat there for endless minutes, contemplating how complicated things had become. Keeping Belle at arm’s length over the last two months had been hell. Having her so close and not holding her, kissing her, not giving in to the need to press her up against the nearest surface and fuck her until we were both sweaty and satiated was pure torture.
She was beautiful, but it was so much deeper than that. She was caring and compassionate, yet strong at the same time. Life with her mother and stepfather hadn’t been easy, but in the two months we’d been living together under this roof, not once had I seen her feel sorry for herself. She wasn’t one to fall victim to her experiences. If not for her nightmare, I wondered if I ever would’ve learned the full extent of Robert’s abuse. Would Belle have trusted me enough to share that with me?
I raked a hand through my hair. How the fuck was I supposed to survive another eight months without giving in to the temptation of her? Pushing her away earlier was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.
Surging to my feet, I headed upstairs to my room. Belle’s bedroom door was ajar as I approached, and I found my footsteps slowing against my will. I paused outside her door, feeling like some kind of pervert but unable to help myself.
Moonlight seeped through the window, much as it had that night two months ago. Belle was lying on her back, sleeping peacefully, her blonde hair splayed across her pillow. Her camisole top had twisted so that one of her breasts had escaped, the rosy nipple a tempting contrast against her pale skin. My mouth watered with the need to taste her, to lick her nipple into a tight bud until she was squirming with desire.
She was every fantasy I’d ever had, laying there like a beautiful angel. She’d knocked me off-balance the second she’d walked through the door on our wedding day, and I’d been teetering on the edge of a cliff ever since. I could take a step back, regain my balance, and return to the safety and familiarity of the life I knew. Or I could take a step forward and plunge into the unknown. Plunge into her.
Every part of me wanted to wake her with my mouth, spread her legs wide and submerge myself inside her welcoming heat. I clenched my fists at my sides and forced myself to keep moving, entering my bedroom and closing the door behind me.
My body was on fire. I needed some relief. I shed my clothes as I crossed to the adjoining bathroom. Turning on the shower, I ducked under the cold spray, but it did nothing to diminish my enormous hard-on from watching Belle sleep.
My mind wandered as I soaped up and took myself in hand, remembering how she’d tasted as we’d kissed. Sunshine and lemons. Did her pussy taste like that, too? I imagined her long legs wrapped around my shoulders while I buried my face between her legs, spreading her folds with my tongue and drinking down her juices.
I tightened my palm around my thick cock, dragging my hand down my engorged shaft and back up again in rough tugs. Pre-cum leaked from the slit, and I rubbed it around the swollen head, imagining it was Belle’s lips and tongue working their magic on me.
I wanted to fuck her hard, watch as my cum dripped from her pussy and trickled down her inner thighs. I stroked harder, gripped tighter, hearing Belle’s moans and whimpers in my head as her tight pussy clamped down on me, as she begged me to fuck her harder, deeper.
“Fuck!”
My orgasm crashed into me, and ropes of cum spurted over the shower wall before the spray washed them away. I leaned a palm against the cool tiles, gasping for breath as the last shivers of pleasure faded, leaving me shaky and a little dizzy.
I dried off, not bothering with my usual boxer shorts, and slid into bed, falling into a blissfully exhausted sleep.
Work kept me busy for the next few days. The ranch wasn’t huge, but there were still a couple of hundred head of cattle to look after, which involved the regular ranch hands and casual labor to help out during the busy calving season, breeding, feed programs, and veterinarian care.
But despite the long hours, Belle was never far from my thoughts. We hadn’t spoken about our kiss after the funeral, but I knew it was on both of our minds. The tension between us was growing by the day, and it felt like only a matter of time before it snapped.
I’m just going to have to show you what you’re missing.
