Page 95 of Always to Remember
He was incredibly solid, his muscles firm and tight. She ran her hands along his back and wondered how he could look so lean and be so strong. His touch contained a strength tempered with gentleness.
He trailed his mouth along her throat and dipped his tongue into the hollow at its base. Then he moved lower and his tongue swirled around her nipple. The touch of his hand had hardened it, the promise of his mouth caused it to pucker. He closed his mouth around the tip and suckled gently. Moaning softly, Meg arched her back and turned into him.
“You taste good,” he said without moving his mouth from her breast.
“So do you when you’re not stingy with your mouth.”
He chuckled and shifted his weight so he was nestled between her thighs. He trailed his mouth from one breast to the other, then brushed it along her stomach as he sat back on his heels. Slowly, he glided his hands over her body. “You’re perfect, Meg. Did you know that? If I was a real sculptor, I’d always use you as my model.”
“You are a real sculptor.”
“No, Meg. I dreamed of being a sculptor, thought I could be one, but I’m not. I’ve already made some mistakes on the monument. They’re small, barely noticeable, but I know they exist. Thought you should know before we take this any further.”
“The monument has nothing to do with what’s happening between us tonight. I love you, Clay.”
His name whispered on her lips was something Clay’d yearned for as much as he’d yearned for her love, her touch, her eyes holding his as though she saw nothing about him to be ashamed of.
Sitting up, she palmed his cheek and whispered his name once more before kissing him tenderly.
He gave his heart into her keeping.
Meg kissed his cheek, his chin, the hollow at the base of his throat where she was certain the sweat gathered when he worked. Running her hands along his shoulders and arms, she eased back down to the quilt. “Come to me, Clay.”
He laid his body over hers. Sliding her hand between their bodies, Meg opened herself to him and guided him home. He shuddered and stilled. “Oh, God, you feel good. I didn’t expect you to feel like this.” Braced on his elbows, he lowered his mouth to hers, accepting her offering.
Instinct took over and he rocked his hips against hers, slowly at first, timidly, until his confidence grew and they found their rhythm. No hair covered his chest, and his body rubbing over hers felt like silk upon silk.
Meg felt the warmth between her thighs kindle and ignite into a raging fire. Writhing beneath him, she met his thrusts and dug her fingers into his back.
Clay listened as her soft whimpers filled the night. He’d never heard anything more beautiful in his life. She gasped, and he wanted to ask her what she needed from him. He increased the tempo of his thrusts and delved deeper. She arched her back and called his name to the heavens. It was all he needed to send him spiraling over the edge.
When the storm passed, he could still feel the slight pulsing of her body around his. He kissed her throat, her chin, her cheek, her lips, before burying his face in her hair. He tightened his hold on her. “I didn’t think anyone would ever want me,” he whispered.
She trailed her fingers along his back, over his shoulders, and took his face between her hands, turning it so their gazes could meet in the darkness.
“You were wrong.”
Sixteen
STANDING BY THE WAGON, CLAY WATCHED CLOSELY AS THEcongregation poured out of the church. Meg’s father and brother ambled toward their wagon.
Then he saw what he was waiting for: Robert walked out of the church alone. His departure left only one person inside. Clay brought the brim of his hat low over his brow. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he threw over his shoulder to his brothers before he began walking back toward the church.
To his surprise, Meg had looked radiant playing the organ even though he hadn’t taken her home until dawn. He’d yawned through most of the service and would have fallen asleep if it weren’t for the fact that he would have been deprived of the pleasure of gazing upon her.
He tried to be discreet as he walked to the church, but the murmurs of people standing in the churchyard rose like locusts swooping down to devour the crops. Removing his hat, he walked through the open door into the sanctuary. The clapboard building echoed his hollow footsteps as he strode down the aisle. Stopping, he smiled as Meg walked toward him. “Morning.”
Her step faltered, and she glanced quickly around the empty church.
“Thought I might escort you home or to Mama Warner’s … wherever it is you’re going.”
She paled. “Please, don’t talk to me here. We had an agreement to ignore each other in town.”
She started to brush past him, and he grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “I thought what passed between us last night sent that agreement to hell.”
“My father will kill you if he sees you talking to me.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
