Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)(44)

He tossed the catalog aside. “When a woman gives me hell for leaving her unsatisfied, I take that very seriously.” He hoisted himself out of the chair. She blushed and he chuckled. Then he said, “I can see why you like this recliner—it’s a good chair. Have you eaten?”

She shook her head.

“Would you like me to take you out for a meal?” he asked.

She ground her teeth and pinched her eyes closed. When she opened them she found him grinning at her, making fun of her. Should I feed you before I scratch your itch? His teeth, so white against that brown beard just about did her in.

“You don’t invest a lot in your women, do you, Colin?” she asked.

“Oh, Jilly, I give them everything I’ve got. Know what I’d like to do?” he asked her. “I’d like to go up on the roof and have a look at the sunset from there. You game?”

She showed him a little smile. “I love it up there. You can see forever—almost all the way to the ocean.”

“Take me up to the roof, Jilly,” he said, his voice hoarse and his eyes glowing.

The climb was three flights and she heard him moan a little behind her as they tackled the last staircase. She looked over her shoulder. “Okay?”

“I should do more of this,” he said. “My leg still gets stiff and sometimes it’s not real strong. But I’m keeping up with you.”

“Just watch your step—there’s not much I can do if you fall off the roof.” But it wasn’t a dangerous roof—it was flat, about six by twelve, surrounded by an eighteen-inch tall, decorative, wrought-iron border. If this house had been built on the coast in the 1800s, the wife of a sea captain would have climbed up to the roof to scan the horizon, watching for the sight of sails, waiting for her man to return to her.

And when Colin reached the top he snatched off his hat, ran a hand over his head and said, “God.” He turned full circle and took in the view. “This is better than I imagined.”

“You like to be up high,” she said.

“Ironically, not so much. I’m kind of afraid of heights. A lot of pilots are. We like flying—we don’t like hanging close to edges of cliffs and stuff. This is good, though. Feels secure in a way.” He dropped down, sitting on the roof. “Come here,” he said. And when she sat, he pulled her between his long legs, his knees raised, her back against his chest, his arms around her waist, and they faced in the direction of the coast, the sunset. “Now see, that’s beautiful. I’m full of good ideas.”

“I sit up here and talk to my sister on the cell phone,” she told him. “The connection is weak on the first floor of the house and outside with all the trees. But up here it’s good. And I love it up here, especially at sunrise and sunset.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I spotted you the first time from up here.”

“That’s why this spot is all cleaned off—you come up here a lot….”

“I swept it so I could sit up here. I just haven’t gotten around to bringing up any chairs.”

He pulled the hair away from her neck and put his lips there. “Hmm. Nice,” he said. One hand slipped under her shirt. He sucked on her neck and grabbed a bare breast at the same time. “Hmm,” he said. “Even nicer. So glad you didn’t get overdressed.”

She laughed lightly, then he gave her nipple a tender pinch and she gasped with pleasure. She scooted farther back against him.

“Do me a favor, Jilly,” he whispered. “Unlace those boots for me.”

“You better tell me what’s going to happen here first,” she said.

“Anything you want,” he answered hoarsely. “Everything you want.”

“On top of the house?”

His other hand went under her shirt and he held a breast in each hand. “With the setting sun?” he asked. “Nice and easy, nice and slow, nice and out of your mind?”

“That’s a little crazy!”

“We’re not going to fall off—there’s a little fence. And I get the impression you are a little crazy.” He kissed her neck again. “You’re not any more tame than I am.”

“But I never knew it,” she said. “I thought I was on the very conservative side.” Then she groaned and reached for his boot laces, untying and loosening them. He used the toe of one to push off the heel of the other and within just a second, both boots were sitting behind him, out of the way. He reached a hand behind his neck, gathered up his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “I’m scarred, Jilly. You should see it before it takes you by surprise and scares you. It might turn you off.”

She hated to have his hands off her br**sts, but she pushed them aside and turned toward him. Kneeling in front of him between his legs, sitting back on her heels, she saw the scarring. It wasn’t terrible but it was obvious. The texture of his skin was rough and discolored, kind of wavy. It ran down his neck, over his shoulder, down his upper arm, upper back, upper chest. There were also a couple of tattoos—a decorative armband on his left arm, some Asian lettering on the right side of his chest. The scarring stopped right at the lettering. She ran her small hand over the skin, very lightly, very carefully.

“This isn’t scary, Colin. Does it still hurt?”

He shook his head. “My leg sometimes gets stiff and my elbow drives me nuts, but I get better every day. I’m healed enough to make love.” And then he slipped his hand around her neck and pulled her mouth onto his, moving over her lips slowly, deeply, with heat and passion. While he had her in that lip-lock, he slipped a hand down the back of her sweatpants, rubbing her butt softly, sweetly. Next he pulled on her shirt, lifting it over her head and leaving her bare to his gaze. He sucked in his breath. “You are gorgeous.”