Page 66 of Thunder Pass

She smoothed little circles on her back until she calmed down and fell into a deeper sleep. When she looked up, she saw a large figure silhouetted in the doorway. Her heart jumped in fear, until she realized that of course it was Gunnar.

Finger to her lips, she tiptoed out of the girls’ bedroom. “What’s going on?” she whispered when they were out in the corridor. The wooden planks of the floor were smooth from decades of guests, but bare of whatever paint had once covered it. The only light fixture was a bulb hanging from the ceiling; Gunnar had to dodge it every time he passed.

“Are you getting any sleep?” he asked her.

“Off and on. I knew the kids might not sleep well, and I was right.”

He cupped a hand around her neck. “I can take over if you want. You need your sleep.”

“They don’t know you. They like you, though.” She smiled at him and rubbed her head against his arm. “I think they see you as a big teddy bear with muscles.”

“That’s about right.” His chuckle was a deep rumble in his chest. A shiver went through her, his physical presence overwhelming her with desire. Or maybe it was comfort. Or some magical mixture of both. “Would they be shocked if they found us in the same bedroom together?”

“Probably.” But did she care? She was living by her rules now, not the Chilkoots’. She wasn’t a nun, and she wasn’t their mother. Even if she was, she had a right to choose what man she wanted to be with, when and how.

As long as they didn’t walk in on anything of a sexual nature…another wave of desire hit her as images flashed through her mind of all the “sexual nature” stuff she longed to do with Gunnar.

She took him by the hand and led him back to her bedroom. “We have to keep our clothes on,” she murmured as she closed the door behind them.

“Not a problem. All I want to do is this, anyway.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and tugged her onto his lap. Strong muscles under her thighs, warmth radiating at her back. The next thing she knew, his big hands were on her shoulders and his thumbs were tracing a path along her tight neck muscles. Those hands, accustomed to working rusty bolts with wrenches and maneuvering studded tires onto plow trucks, were just as capable when it came to the knots and tension in her muscles.

She let out a low moan. “Oh my sweet heaven, Gunnar, that feels so…don’t stop. Oh yes, up there too. Oh lord.” Tears stung her eyes as the stress stored in those tendons at the back of her neck eased.

Everything’s going to be okay, his hands were telling her. I got you. We got you. You’re not alone. It’ll be all right.

“I love you,” she whispered into the dusty stillness of the bedroom.

“Hm?”

She bit her lip to keep from saying it again. She loved him. It was true. She loved Gunnar with her whole heart. But she couldn’t tell him that. She shouldn’t tell him that. He had his whole life ahead of him, and she was currently burdened with the care of seven—no eight, including Sarah—children under the age of sixteen. What attractive young man, not even thirty yet, would want to take that on?

“I love that,” she said, more loudly. “What you’re doing with your hands.”

“It’s called a neck rub.”

“Oh. Well, it feels really good. Ohhh.” His hands were moving lower now, to the muscles alongside her spine. She arched and flexed to accommodate his movements. She imagined what it would feel like without her clothes on, and shivered.

“Cold?”

“No.” Then, when he sheltered her deeper in his arms, “Maybe.” She should get cold more often, she thought dreamily as she cuddled against him. Step outside, get cold, run into Gunnar’s arms. She could just repeat that pattern for the rest of her days.

His hand came around her front, then found its way under her skirt and between her legs. Her throat closed up, so tight with excitement that she could barely breathe.

“The kids,” she managed.

“I’m listening for them. Don’t you worry about it. Just focus on my hand. Does this feel good?”

She nodded, speechless with pleasure. He stroked lightly, found moisture, then used it to give her more friction, more speed, until she couldn’t track it anymore and all she could do was twist against him and bite down against a moan that threatened to become a shriek.

She came hard into his hand, so hard that she felt emptied out of anything except the savoring of those incredible sensations. She drifted for long moments, freed from all space and time and fear and responsibility.

When she came out of that trance, she felt him working on getting his pants open, she shifted her position to give him more space. His erection pressed hot against her lower back. Did he have a condom?

Even as she formed the thought, she heard the crackle of the foil packet he must have put in his pocket. A moment later, he was lifting her up and moving her underclothes aside to position her over that thick spear of flesh.

It came inside her slowly, like inescapable destiny. There you are, she thought in a daze. You. Only you.

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