“Jaron, I want this. I want you.”
He might have been able to win his inner struggle if he hadn’t seen the desire coloring her smooth cheeks or heard the urgency in her sweet voice. But the combination of her heartfelt declaration and the feel of her tight body surrounding his was more than he could resist.
“Forgive me, darlin’,” he said, pushing himself forward to breach the thin barrier blocking his way. Her eyes widened and a soft moan passed her parted lips when he sank himself completely inside her.
Holding his lower body perfectly still, Jaron kissed away the lone tear slowly trickling down her cheek. He hated that in order to love Mariah this first time he had to cause her pain. But as he felt her body relax around him, he knew that she was adjusting to his presence and, easing himself back and then forward, he set a pace he hoped would cause her the least amount of discomfort. He knew she probably wouldn’t derive much pleasure from their lovemaking, but that wasn’t going to keep him from trying to give her whatever pleasure he possibly could.
As the driving force of the tension holding them captive increased, Jaron held himself in check until he felt Mariah begin to respond to his gentle movement. Only then did he increase the depth and strength of his strokes.
When he felt her tiny feminine muscles begin to tighten around him, he knew she was close to realizing the satisfaction they both sought and, reaching between them, he touched her in a way he knew would send her over the edge. Her fulfillment triggered his own and, gathering her close, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t pass out from the extraordinary sensations of his release.
Collapsing on top of her, Jaron buried his face in her silky hair and tried to catch his breath as he slowly drifted back to reality. He had never experienced anything as intense or as meaningful as being one with Mariah.
As his strength returned, he eased himself to her side and pulled her into his arms. “Are you all right?”
With her head pillowed on his shoulder, she nodded as she rested her hand on his chest. “I’m fine.” She yawned. “That was amazing.”
He could tell by the sound of her voice that she was drowsy and, remembering that she’d mentioned having a rough day, he kissed the top of her head and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. “Get some rest, darlin’.”
He’d barely finished making the suggestion before he could tell that Mariah had dozed off. Long after he was sure she was sound asleep, he continued to hold her close as he stared up at the ceiling. What the hell had he done?
No matter how much he would like to go back to the way things had been between them in the past, it would never be the same again. He’d not only crossed the line with her, he had taken something that she could give to only one man.
He closed his eyes as he fought the need building inside him once again. He wanted her, and just the thought that he had been the first man to touch her like this sent heat streaking throughout his body with lightning speed.
It hadn’t even crossed his mind that she might still be a virgin. Hell, Mariah was twenty-five years old and he knew for certain that over the years she’d dated several men. So why him? Why had he been the one she chose to be the first man she made love with?
Unable to think clearly with Mariah in his arms, Jaron contented himself with simply holding her while she slept until sometime around dawn, when he reluctantly eased away from her and got out of bed to pick up their clothes. Folding hers, he placed them on the bench at the end of the bed, then took a quick shower and got dressed.
As he started to leave the room, he turned to gaze at the beautiful woman sleeping peacefully in his bed. How had he let things get so out of hand with her? Why had he ignored that voice of reason in his head, telling him to walk away before he did something he was sure to regret? And how was he going to be with her at family gatherings without losing his mind from wanting her and not allowing himself to touch her?
Guilt and regret so strong it threatened to choke him settled in his gut and, shaking his head, Jaron headed downstairs for a stiff drink. He needed to shore up his resolve and do what he knew was right and would be the best for Mariah. As soon as his men repaired her car, he was going to send her on her way and hope like hell one day he could forget the most incredible night of his entire life.
* * *
When Mariah awoke the following morning to sunlight peeping through a part in the drapes, two things were immediately apparent—she was in Jaron’s bed and he wasn’t with her. She was a little disappointed, but not really surprised. Bria had told her that ranchers usually started their days before dawn and sometimes worked until well past sundown. Now that Jaron owned the Wild Maverick Ranch, it stood to reason that he would keep those hours, as well.
Lying there surrounded by his clean masculine scent on the black satin sheets, Mariah’s heart skipped a beat as she thought about the shift in the direction of their relationship. After all these years, Jaron had finally recognized she was no longer an eighteen-year-old girl with stars in her eyes. He had finally seen her as the woman she had become, albeit almost grudgingly. But she was certain that even he would have to admit that what they had shared was beautiful.
As she thought about his hesitancy, she frowned. Why had Jaron kissed her, made love to her, if he had been so reluctant? She might not be as experienced as a lot of women her age, but she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that it wasn’t because he hadn’t desired her. In fact, it had been as if needing her was the last thing he wanted. But he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
Confused by his reaction, she got up and collected her clothes from the bench at the end of the bed, then she went into the master bathroom for a shower. They needed to talk, and his usual brooding silence wasn’t going to cut it this time. She wanted answers and she wasn’t going anywhere until she got them. What they had shared last night had been too meaningful to be dismissed. Nor was she going to allow him to ignore their lovemaking as if it never happened the way he’d ignored their first kiss.
Twenty minutes later as Mariah pulled on the clothes she’d worn the night before, she made the bed, then opted to carry her shoes instead of trying to navigate the circular staircase in four-inch heels. As much as she liked the boost the shoes added to her five-foot-five-inch height, she wasn’t willing to take the chance of breaking her neck before she confronted Jaron and got the answers she wanted.
Picking up her jacket and purse, she left the master suite to go downstairs in search of Jaron. She was a bit surprised to find him seated at the table in the breakfast nook, drinking a cup of coffee. She had fully expected him to be somewhere outside with his ranch hands, doing whatever ranchers did.
“Good morning,” she said, walking over to set her things on one of the chairs.
He gave her a silent, stoic nod as he got up to take a mug from the cabinet above the coffeemaker. “You like cream in your coffee, don’t you?”
“I’m surprised you know that,” she said, pulling a chair from the table to sit down.
“I’ve watched you drink coffee with dessert at our family dinners for years. You and Lane’s wife, Taylor, are the only ones who don’t drink it black.” He shrugged one broad shoulder as he reached into the refrigerator to take out a dairy carton. “Will milk be okay? It’s the closest thing I have to cream.”
“That’s fine.” She’d known he watched her whenever they were together, but she hadn’t taken into consideration that he might have actually paid attention to mundane things like how she took her coffee.
