Payne, Lillith - His Unconventional Woman (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  Clay had sucked her clit and taken long licks of her pussy lips. Over and over he repeated the movements. Dana knew she’d jutted her hips forward, giving him better access to her body. She couldn’t reach to him while holding the material of her bridesmaid gown, which gave him all the control. With his hands on her hips, he moved her body at his whim. Dana had let him, groaning louder when he stroked her pussy lips with his index finger.

  “Clay,” she’d started, but he’d glanced up at her.

  “Quiet, Dana, just let me,” he’d told her, and she had. She’d let him lick her pussy and slide his finger inside her. “Damn it, you’re beyond wet, you’re almost fluid. So sweet and hot to my lips,” he mumbled. When he slid a second finger in her pussy, she’d widened her stance to give him better access. With his fingers pumping in and out of her and his mouth covering her clit, Dana had cried out when she came. Clay had stood instantly and kissed her lips, sharing her essence with her while he continued to slip his fingers in and out of her pussy. “I told you to be quiet,” he said. Dana had wilted against his body, the aftermath of his attention making her legs weak and her whole body quake.

  The kiss was beyond erotic, it was mind-boggling for her. His large fingers were still sliding in her body, rubbing against her clit. When she came a second time, he swallowed her cry with his tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth.

  “What part of be quiet didn’t you get?” he teased, pausing to drop light kisses to her mouth.

  “Let me get to your cock and see how quiet you can be,” she answered.

  “Another time,” he told her, and very slowly withdrew his fingers from her pussy. She’d dropped the dress to try and hold him in place, but he was quicker than she was. Grabbing his wrist, she drew his hand to her mouth and licked his fingers clean of her cum. It was his groan they heard in the small closet-like space.

  “What were you saying about being quiet?” she teased, dropping her other hand to rub his erection through the material of his pants. “Jeez, you’re hard. Let me get to you, I’d bet you’re dripping pre-cum.”

  He’d grabbed her wrist to stop her movements. “Another time,” he told her, kissed her forehead, and after putting his clothing right, left her alone in the closet. Dana had stayed there a few moments longer, thrusting three of her own fingers in her pussy. She came again, but it wasn’t the same. After catching her breath, she smoothed down her dress and left the closet. With a quick stop in the bathroom to repair her hair and makeup, she spotted him across the room, champagne glass in hand, talking with some of the farmhands. Nobody would believe what he’d just done to her in the closet. Her problem was getting him to do it again.

  Later when they were dancing, she’d leaned up and whispered, “I’ve got my juices dripping down my thighs.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not if you do it again. Let’s see if we can get your cum to drip down my thighs.” Dana remembered holding his look, waiting for his reply when the orchestra leader called for everyone’s attention to center on the cake cutting.

  “I could think of some things to do with the icing,” she’d whispered.

  “I’m sure you could, but not tonight, kid. We have duties to attend to.” He’d squeezed her hand and walked away, joining the guests gathering around the cake table.

  “Damn that man,” she’d whispered in exasperation. For the rest of the reception, they hadn’t a moment alone. Dana drew a deep breath and locked the memory away where it belonged.

  The door to the nursery stood ajar, the only light in the room a soft night-light, more of a glow, Clay decided. Adam was nestled on Dana’s chest, his fist gripping her finger as she sang the old hymn softly. One his mother used to sing, one he would never forget from his childhood. Standing beside the door, watching Dana rock the baby to sleep, hearing the soft words she sang, he knew there was no way around it. He was in love with her. He had been since the last Christmas he had spent with her. This moment he watched made him all the more aware of his feelings.

  Now he had to decide how to hide them from her. She was young and free, her whole life ahead of her. He had no right to think the thoughts he had of them together, of her one day holding his child, of them as a couple. She had stopped singing, but the chair still rocked. Forcing himself, he walked several steps into the room, stopping dead when he caught sight of the tear running down her cheek. He went toward her, quietly pulling over a second straight-backed chair as he went. Sitting across from her, his front straddling the back of the chair, his legs spread wide around it, he heard Dana sniff back the next torrent of tears that threatened. Waiting her out, he was still there when she opened her eyes a minute later.

  Pulling several tissues from the box behind him, Clay handed them to her. He took the baby with ease, whispering to him as he placed the baby into the bassinet, propping him correctly. Adam stretched in his new environment but settled as Clay kept his large hand on the baby’s belly, reassuring him.

  Dana stared out the window, as if she was trying to force back the emotions that surfaced. He’d never seen her as emotional as she seemed these last few hours. Clay returned to his chair, studying her in the dim light.

  “Want to talk about it? I don’t think Adam will tell your secrets.”

  “If only I could,” she whispered. Then, without considering her move, she went to him as he stood, accepting his open arms for comfort.

  “Come on, kid. It can’t be that bad, tell me.”

  “Just hold me a minute, Clay. For old times’ sake.” Her grip tightened around him. He felt her shaking in his arms. All he could do was hold her, all he wanted to do was make everything all right for her, any way he could. When she finally pulled back, her gaze wouldn’t meet his. Instead, she started chattering about hormones running amok. He caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to look.

  “Dana?”

  “Please, Clay, I’m okay.” She walked to the baby, checking him one more time. “You’re pretty good with him. I didn’t realize you knew so much about babies.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Dana.” Her look flew to his, searching for the true meaning of his statement. “Just like there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

  “Why aren’t you at the party?”

  “I wanted some peace and quiet.” He started to laugh then pulled back.

  Dana seemed to be making some sort of decision, Clay thought, watching her face carefully.

  “Besides, the nursery is the last place Linda would look for me.” His words were whispered as his hand came up to her lips. His thumb ran along her bottom lip, enjoying the texture of it, the softness against his finger. She let her eyes lock on his, wondering if she would accept what he was attempting to offer. Slowly, his head bent down, hovering just a breath away from hers, his lips so close to hers, until finally she closed the distance between them, letting her lips touch his.

  Clay knew he should leave, but just when he thought he could, he had touched her, touched his mouth to hers with such a delicate glance he knew he had to have more. His face was next to hers, all she had to do was look up slightly and they would touch. Then she did. Clay closed his eyes as his lips met hers in this intimate way.

  It wasn’t the quick smack of lips that they were used to, this was warm and sensual. Dana lifted up onto her toes, granting him better access to her lips as she opened them to his. A deep groan came from within Dana, exciting him all the more. She accepted the light probing of his tongue against hers. He pulled her up close against the length of him. As their kiss deepened, he knew she felt him harden against her belly. As he did, he tossed away all thoughts of propriety and kissed her back, full and strong, taking what he had dreamt about for such a long time.

  Air, Clay needed air to breath, but he knew if he moved, the magic would be lost. Instead, he groaned against her lips, pulling back slightly, then returning to the one place he knew they belonged. Pressed against hers, life made sense to Clay Hollister for the first tim
e in years. He never wanted to lose this feeling. He never wanted to lose Dana. If he could freeze a moment in time, this would be it.

  Neither Clay nor Dana knew that Linda Cole had witnessed a portion of their kiss. She watched from the shadow of the hall, bile turning in her throat. She would have to deal with this as soon as possible. She retreated back the way she came, running into Lisa as she did.

  “Something wrong, Linda?”

  “As if you didn’t know,” was all she got in return. Linda left her standing in the hallway of her own home, confused.

  When she got to the doorway of the nursery, she saw what had set off Linda. Lisa knew that for the past year or so Linda wanted to stake a claim on Clay. Unfortunately, it seemed only Clay was oblivious to it. Everyone in the county knew she was lusting for him and his bank account. Jeff had discussed it with her on several occasions. Oddly, neither Jeff nor Lisa could picture them as a couple.

  Retreating several steps, she cleared her throat and then coughed lightly a few times before entering the nursery. There she found Clay looking out the window, while Dana looked down at her sleeping nephew.

  “Here’s where I lost you two. It’s my turn to hide out with my son for a few minutes. You two have to go back to the party,” she teased. Lisa was affectionate by nature, so it wasn’t out of character for her to put her arm around Dana as the two of them looked at the sleeping baby.

  “I suppose you’re right. I’ll make the supreme sacrifice. I’ll go back to the party.” Clay pushed out his bottom lip in a mock pout, sending the two women into a fit of laughter. “What, pouty doesn’t work for me?” he teased.

  “Sorry, your tough guy image overrides it. Actually,” Lisa continued, “I find it quite comical.” They laughed again, Clay leaning close to the baby.

  “Be careful, Adam. You don’t know what you’re up against.” With that said, he left them alone with the baby. Both women noted he turned toward the back staircase.

  “The baby’s asleep. We should go back to the party.”

  “If I must,” Dana teased, pausing to grab her shoes. “I guess I can’t go without these.”

  Lisa noted Dana too went in the direction of the back staircase instead of the main one that lead to the party. Leaning over her newborn son, she soothed him with her hand, smiling down at him. “All hell is gonna break loose soon. It will be interesting to see how they work it out.”

  Clay sat on the back porch steps, the hustle of the caterers just a few feet away. There he pulled out one of the slim cigars he occasionally allowed himself to enjoy. In the warm breeze of the summer night, Clay wondered what would happen next. He wondered even more what Dana would say the next time he saw her.

  Turning as the door opened, he saw her step out, her shoes in hand. Their eyes met and held. Around them, the party was just starting to break up, the caterer and his staff louder in the kitchen just behind them. Dana kept his look as she approached, surprising him as she took the cigar from his hand, taking it to her lips, puffing evenly until the tip was glowing. Handing it back, they shared several puffs of it in silence. Dana sat on the porch step, fastening her shoes once again.

  “Wouldn’t it be simpler to leave them off?” he teased. Clay hoped if he kept it light, Dana would too.

  “Probably, but I have an image to maintain,” she teased back. Taking one last puff from the cigar, she stood.

  “Dana…”

  “Yes, Clay?”

  “Not with me. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Clay, I’d better get back, especially since you’ve corrupted me with tobacco. I have to find some mouthwash before Aunt Mary gets too close.”

  He didn’t turn to look up at her, instead his hand gently rubbed at her ankle. “I’ll be in shortly.”

  “All right, Clay.” She didn’t move and he didn’t take his hand away. Her leg was smooth to his callused fingers, slim and delicate. Just the way the rest of her felt as he held her close against him. It was an image he knew would be burned into his memory for the rest of his days. Dana reaching up to close the distance between their lips, her eyes closing as she did. A chill ran through him as he stood, relinquishing his grasp on her, deciding to walk around the house rather than go back through the kitchen.

  Chapter Three

  Dana knew Hollister Farms encompassed over five thousand acres. Growing up, Clay would often take her for rides through the back roads, showing her new plantings, a new tract of land he had acquired, or especially a new piece of equipment. He never hesitated to let her climb up into the cabs of the huge tractors, following her to explain how that piece worked and its functions. When she was younger, she had often accompanied him during the long hours of spring plantings and fall harvests.

  It was natural to find Dana in the machine shop standing on a crate to watch one of the workmen, her questions about the repair endless. Even as she grew toward her teens, he’d find her there occasionally, her hands slick with grease from the machinery she was tinkering with. He always took the time to answer her questions, explaining the complexity of the engine and the needed repair. She’d known how to change the oil in most tractors by the time she was ten and had a sixth sense when it came to pinpointing a problem just by listening to the chug or clanking noise it made.

  Driving on the secondary dirt road, she was stunned at the amount of growth the timber to her left had accomplished. The last time she had been to this area was five years before, just after Clay acquired the thousand acres of freshly logged land. He had replanted, knowing it would be twenty to thirty years before it would be ready for harvest. His long-range plan always gave Dana a comforting thought. He was a man who saw into the future, knowing how to provide for the days ahead.

  The BMW had low ground clearance, so she coasted along the bumpy track until she saw his pickup pulled off to the side. There she found Clay, BlackBerry in one hand and an old-fashioned clipboard in the other. He was surveying the three-foot stalks of corn forcing their way skyward. There had been a brief thunderstorm that morning. It rumbled across the coast in less than an hour leaving behind a sunny, humid day. The rain had washed the dust from the leaves of the crop, leaving it shiny and new as the light wind rustled through the rows.

  Clay acknowledged the approaching vehicle with the wave of his hand. Dana was instantly relieved and excited when he gave her a large smile.

  “Hi, kid. What brings you back here?” Before she could say it, he put up his hand, adding, “And if you say your car, I’m going to have to punish you.”

  “Promises, promises,” she teased back, wondering how he might react if she told him that was exactly what she wanted from him.

  Dana had vivid memories of Clay tickling her unmercifully when she was younger. She would interrupt him and Jeff to the point of madness, and then Clay would chase her, eventually catching her, tickling her until she promised to behave. A strange feeling came over her with the memory. A feeling she couldn’t quite put into words. The only one that came to mind was lust, and she forced it from her mind.

  Dana was on alert the minute the words left her mouth. She was glad her sunglasses covered her eyes. The only problem was that he, too, wore dark glasses. His oilskin hat shadowed most of his face from her view. Only the slight tremble in the corner of her mouth gave her away, and she let her lips spread into a smile.

  “I’ve been sent on a mission, Sunday brunch, two o’clock. Lisa promised immediate family only.”

  “That leaves me out.” Dana looked stricken at his poor joke. “Okay, kid, just teasing.” He wandered a few rows as if he wanted to put some distance between them. When he turned back, she was sitting propped on the back of her car, her legs pulled up against her chest, her arms wrapped around them. Faded denim covered the long length of her legs, her feet clad in old, worn sneakers. The white T-shirt she wore hugged the line of her breasts, tapering to her slim waist. Her hair was pulled back in an elastic band, flowing down her back. After years of modeling, Dana knew the sight Clay saw. Sh
e hoped he interpreted it as natural and sensual with a hint of humor. Maybe that would make him see she’d grown up.

  “What a sight, kid,” he said. For what seemed like eternity, Dana watched him from behind her sunglasses. “Where’s your hat?”

  “What?” Of all the things Dana was prepared for him to say, asking where her hat was wasn’t one of them. Clay took off his oilskin and plopped it on her head.

  “Keys in the ignition?”

  “Yep.”

  “Going to be kind of hard to hold on sitting there,” he teased as he tossed his clipboard onto the seat of his truck through the open window, carrying only the cell phone. He walked to her Roadster, but she saw the way his hips swayed with a definite purpose. Adjusting the front driver’s seat to accommodate his long legs, he fitted himself behind the steering wheel.

  Dana swung her legs around, stepping onto the passenger seat, climbing over to get settled. Glancing left, Clay’s profile was still strong and challenging. His jaw was hard, unforgiving, she knew, until he smiled. The thought of his smile warmed her heart on many a cold New York night.

  “Buckle up, kid.” Dana stuck her tongue out at him then felt her cheeks heat. Unfortunately that wasn’t the only thing that heated. Her pussy was instantly wet at the idea of sucking him. She hoped his glasses would hide the color rising in her cheeks, ducking her head down to tuck his hat under the seat. “Ready?” This close to him it was hard not to reach over and touch him, anywhere, everywhere. She cleared her throat and sat back.

  “Go ahead, it’s still under warranty.” Shaking her head, she held the base of her seat as he gained speed over the bumpy dirt road. Knowing he would control himself until he was on solid ground, she figured he would head over to the airstrip, and she was right. Once he hit the macadam, he shifted gears, the force plastering her against the back of her seat.