Her Unexpected Hero Read online

  But as if he sensed her anxiety, his hands and mouth slowed. He looked up, his eyes sparkling as his tongue lazily circled the quivering flesh of her stomach.

  “You are so beautiful, Alyssa,” he whispered reverently.

  “So are you, Jackson.”

  He chuckled, then grasped her jeans and panties and drew them off in one fell swoop, leaving her bare to his view. She didn’t have time to feel self-conscious about her gently swelling belly in the well-lit room. He didn’t allow it. He lowered his head and began doing delicious things to the part of her that ached the most. Moaning in encouragement, Alyssa moved her body to the rhythm of his tongue as she sought fulfillment.

  Time ceased having any meaning as his tongue and fingers lifted her higher and higher, as her body reached toward release. Why had she been fighting this? It was exactly what she’d needed for so long. And there was no one other than Jackson capable of bringing her body such pleasure.

  When she reached her peak and came against his mouth, Alyssa thought she might stay suspended in the sky like a burst of stars. But when she opened her eyes and found Jackson poised above her, a satisfied smile on his face, his thick erection pressing against her thigh, she realized that this was only the beginning.

  “Why have we wasted so much time? This is exactly where the two of us should always be,” he said, his voice serious, his body throbbing against hers.

  “I don’t know,” Alyssa sighed. Suddenly her reasons for trying to keep her distance seemed foolish, ridiculous, even. “I shouldn’t have prevented something that feels so good.” Why would she want to put distance between them when he so clearly wanted them to be together?

  “I will treat you like royalty,” he said, his words whispered in her ear before he began kissing the skin of her neck, making shivers race up and down her entire body.

  “I’ve been so afraid this can’t last forever. But isn’t everyone unsure of that same thing? It doesn’t matter, though, because for now this is exactly what I need and if we don’t finish tonight, surely I’ll melt away into nothingness.”

  “Alyssa, I guarantee you will finish many times over,” he said before taking her nipple into his mouth and making her lose her ability to speak.

  All that mattered right now was that this felt real. It felt better than real. When his mouth trailed a line of kisses back up her neck and then he was once again leaning over her, looking into her eyes with passion and . . . love, she knew she was his forever, or for as long as he would have her.

  “Take me, Jackson,” she panted, overcome with emotion as he slid against her.

  His next kiss was soft, gentle, incredibly tender. He’d never kissed her that way before, and it brought a sheen of tears to her eyes. She closed them to hide her emotion. He was holding nothing back from her, and she was falling irrevocably in love.

  When his knees pushed against the insides of her thighs, she didn’t fight him. Opening willingly, she gave him her body—along with the rest of her heart. His tender kiss turned urgent as he pressed the tip of his arousal against her heat.

  This was the man she knew; she knew the hunger rippling through him, impatience burning in every pore. He wanted her, and she wanted to be wanted this way. The fires within her ignited again when with one sure thrust he buried himself deep inside her aching core.

  As her body tensed, as the fire built, Alyssa gripped his arms. She opened her eyes and looked up with greedy fascination at him, at the strength of his muscles flexing, at the pure hunger etched into his features.

  He began to move, making her body sing. When his eyes opened, and their gazes connected, Alyssa was stunned to see so much raw power capturing her. When he shook and gave a groan of release, she held him tight and joined him in an awe-inspiring orgasm, wave upon wave of rapture.

  When their passionate tremors finally ceased, he collapsed, half on her and half beside her, his breathing still heavy as he cradled her to him. How had she lived her whole life without this man? Without the pleasure he brought? Without the passion he ignited? And how would she ever be able to let him go?

  “Jackson . . .”

  She needed to tell him, had a burning need to share with him the fact that he was going to be a father again in just a few months.

  “It’s okay, Alyssa. I know it’s overwhelming, but it will all be okay,” he said, and then he kissed the corner of her mouth.

  As he held her, touched her, began stirring the hormones in her needy body yet again, she lost her courage to speak. She fell under his spell and allowed herself to just feel.

  Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would tell him . . .

  For two days straight, Alyssa had been content to do almost nothing but lie in Jackson’s arms. They made love, ate, showered, and made love again. Neither of them spoke of the future. Neither of them spoke of anything more than this moment, this time they’d carved out for themselves in what felt like paradise.

  Late the night before, a thunderstorm had blown through, knocking out their power, but it hadn’t slowed them down even a bit. Instead, Jackson had turned on an old battery-operated radio, lit some candles, and then pulled her into his arms as the two of them danced naked in his den.

  She’d refused at first, horrified that someone might show up. But she was powerless against his pursuit, and soon she’d surrendered, needing the feel of his hands against her body. No one else would ever be able to pleasure her again, not after these uninterrupted days with Jackson.

  “We should eventually climb from bed,” she said while her hand lazily drew patterns on the hard contours of his chest.

  The bedding was in shambles, only partially covering them now, but Alyssa didn’t mind. She was still hot from the last time they’d made love.

  “Why leave? I very much like this bed.”

  “There’s work to do, and people who are probably worried about us. My parents are most likely ready to gather a search party.”

  “Nah. They love me.”

  What confidence! It was probably one of the things she loved most about him.

  “Hmm. I don’t know about that,” she told him. Admit to him how much power he wielded in this relationship? No way. And she wasn’t such a fool as to think they weren’t in a relationship now.

  Not after the last couple of days. For that matter, from the moment he’d set foot in the saloon, they’d been in a relationship. If she really wanted to get technical, she hadn’t even thought of another man since their plane ride—since making love in New York.

  Jackson had owned her heart and soul from that night on. And wasn’t love exactly what he was showing her right now? Maybe he was incapable of saying the words, but weren’t actions much more real, much more meaningful, than the words slipping from his mouth?

  “I know for a fact that both of our families would be thrilled if we stopped fighting against this attraction we share. My brothers think the world of you. I’m sure my father does as well, since every time I talk to him, he asks me how I’m treating you.”

  “But they know I’m pregnant.”

  There was a pause before he spoke. “Yes. That doesn’t change how they feel.”

  “And how do they feel about that?”

  She held her breath as she waited for him to speak. “You realize how I came to be with my family, right?”

  “Yes,” she answered, not understanding what this had to do with anything.

  “If we are together, do you honestly think they would love your child any less just because it doesn’t share my blood?”

  “I haven’t really thought about it,” she said, squirming beside him as she always did when he brought up the parentage of her unborn child.

  “My dad is my dad because he loved a child enough to give him a chance—loved three of us enough, actually. He wouldn’t hesitate to claim your baby as his grandchild. It nearly destroyed him when Olivia was lost.”

  His voice tightened with his last words, and Alyssa melted against his side, not wanting him to feel that pain a
ll over again.

  “Tell me about your family, Jackson. I only know bits and pieces,” she said, hoping to turn his thoughts from sorrow to a better time in his life.

  “It’s a long story,” he warned her, but her words did the trick and he relaxed against her.

  “I don’t have anywhere to be, Jackson.” She should check in with her parents, but she was too comfortable even to think about moving.

  “I lived in the foster-care system from the time I was a baby. I never knew my mother or father. It was just how it was . . .”

  “Did you ever look for them?”

  He was silent for a little while as he thought either about her question or about whether he wanted to answer it or not.

  “No. I thought about it when I was twenty-one, and then decided I really didn’t care. I love my father and my brothers. Even if my birth parents are still alive, it doesn’t interest me. I wouldn’t know them. Even if I looked like them, even if there were brothers or sisters out there, they wouldn’t be my family. My family is right here and they are the ones who have always been there for me.”

  “Did you tell your dad you were curious?” She worried that Martin might have been hurt.

  “Yes. I’ve always been able to tell my dad anything. He didn’t try to make me feel guilty; hell, he offered to search for them if I wanted. He told me not to make a snap decision and had me think about it. After a week, I realized that I really didn’t want to find them, and I never brought it up again.”

  “Were the homes you were in bad?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Some of them were terrible. Some of the parents were abusive, and some were just pathetic. Not one of them made me feel wanted. Camden, Spence, and I were together in a foster home for a couple of years before we met Martin and his biological son, Michael. That day forever changed our lives,” he said, a smile flitting across his mouth.

  As the two of them lay in a perfect pocket of sun streaming in through the window—a sign that the storm was over and it was safe to come back into the real world—Alyssa realized she didn’t want to be in that world.

  She wanted to stay in this one, where Jackson held her tight, where he shared with her, where only good things happened, and where she felt alive and cared for. She didn’t ever want to move again.

  But instead of saying all this, she simply listened as Jackson told her about his first meeting with Martin and the day that changed his life.

  A loud cry rent the air as Alyssa walked to the barn, hand in hand with Jackson. She froze and looked around frantically. Jackson walked another step, until he felt the pull of her hand against his.

  “What?” he asked. “Are you feeling okay, Alyssa?”

  She knew her eyes must be bugging out of her head. He had to have heard the cry. Why wasn’t he more concerned? Why wasn’t he rushing toward the barn to see whether he could help?

  “What is wrong with you?” she finally gasped.

  “Me? You’re the one who stopped.”

  “Didn’t you hear that?” Right as she said it, another shout spilled through the open doors of the barn. She wasn’t sure whether she should rush forward or turn back and run for her life.

  Of course she’d rush forward. Her parents had been invited to the party, too, so they’d most likely be in there, and she couldn’t run away without helping them. She had to choose fight over flight. But she and Jackson were wasting valuable time just standing still.

  When he began to laugh, her mind raced around in utter confusion. What was there to laugh about? It sounded as if assassins had descended upon his family and were picking them off one by one. When he doubled over and let go of her hand, she had the strong urge to kick him. Instead, she rushed toward the sound.

  “Wait!” he yelled, but the lout was laughing so hard he couldn’t catch up to her.

  Trembling in fear—how on earth was she going to stop the mass murder?—she tore through the barn doors. And was shot right in the chest.

  “Alyssa!”

  Scanning the room with incredulous eyes, Alyssa lifted her hand and rubbed the spot where she’d felt the dart hit. The foam dart. It looked like World War III was going on, and she wasn’t sure which side was winning.

  The men were cowering behind a large bundle of hay, all holding Nerf guns of various sizes and firing shot after shot at the women rushing from station to station.

  “Don’t let them get the flag!” Camden yelled out to Michael.

  Alyssa turned.

  “I got it,” Michael shouted back as his machine gun spit Nerf darts out at . . . her mother!

  Alyssa gasped, but her mom rolled away in the nick of time. Was that really her mom grabbing a large Nerf gun from some sort of side holster and aiming it straight at Camden’s head? Yes, it was. And the woman was blessed with deadly accuracy.

  Firing off several rapid shots, her mom pinged Camden; he dropped back behind the hay bales to reload as her mom ran off toward a blue flag flying high in the barn’s loft. The deadly Nerf warriors all ran around with delighted grins on their faces as darts whizzed through the air.

  “I’m so sorry for laughing,” Jackson said as he appeared at Alyssa’s side. “I should have warned you.” And the jerk was still laughing.

  “You think?” she snapped. Then she saw the humor in the situation, and a smile split her face.

  “Um, Spence is really a giant-size kid who loves to instigate wars. He has an arsenal of Nerf guns, arrows, and water guns. The time of year determines which weapons he brings out.”

  “This isn’t for a children’s party?” Alyssa saw several small children taking part in the game, but she noticed the adults were careful with them. The kids giggled in delight when they got hit in their padded stomachs or on the shin guards they were wearing.

  “Well, a lot of the neighbors bring their kids, but sadly, no. This is all about Spence,” Jackson said, and then took off to join in the war.

  Alyssa moved to a corner of the barn that looked relatively safe. Several tables were set up with food and drinks; the few adults who weren’t participating in the battle were laughing and taking photos of the activity that whirled around them.

  She sat down, reached for a cookie and soda, and watched as Jackson grabbed a weapon, then did an army crawl behind what appeared to be the men’s barricade. Michael got hit near the side of one eye, and to Alyssa’s amazement he cried out, inviting taunts from the women. Alyssa’s jaw dropped when he stood up and blasted Bethel.

  She had to be in her sixties, yet she was running around as vigorously as people half her age, and firing round after round of ammo from the two guns she was carrying. The battle continued for a good twenty minutes more before Bethel managed to grab hold of the blue flag and then did a victory dance.

  The men groaned. They began putting down their weapons and then ambled over toward the food and drink, obviously breathing heavily. Water was guzzled greedily before anyone spoke.

  When Jackson plopped down next to Alyssa, he had a sheen of sweat covering his forehead, and his shirt was damp. And just like that, she felt her stomach heat up. When his eyes met hers, his went from happy to excited in less than a second.

  “I’ve had a good time. Want to leave?”

  She was amazed he could even think about sex after the last few days. It seemed they had sex, then they both worked, then had more sex, and then caught maybe a few hours of sleep. She was exhausted. She’d have doubted that he could perform again so soon, but the look in his eyes and the bulge in his pants made it clear that he’d have no problem at all.

  “We just got here, Jackson,” she whispered, hoping no one was paying any attention to them.

  “Alyssa! So glad you came.” Camden appeared at her side, and before she knew it, he lifted her up and pulled her into his sweaty embrace.

  “Good to see you, Cam,” she said with a grimace. He released her and she tried to wipe away the sweat discreetly.

  “Ahh, a bit of moisture won’t hurt you,” Jackso
n said with a laugh.

  Wow! A lot had changed in a short time. The last time Camden had taken her in his arms, Alyssa had worried that Jackson might beat him to a bloody pulp. It seemed that a lot—a really, really lot—of sex calmed the man right down.

  “I didn’t think it would,” she replied, hoping she hadn’t offended Cam.

  “Yeah, I always get a good workout at these parties,” Cam said as he slung an arm around her shoulders.

  “That’s good to know,” she said with a laugh. And they were both right. A bit of sweat would wash right off.

  When she glanced toward the chocolate fountain, she noticed a woman dipping a strawberry in chocolate and looking over at their table. Her eyes were all for Cam, and for some reason there was a touch of sadness in them that made Alyssa want to jump up and go to her, to reassure her that everything would be okay.

  “Who is that?” she asked, and Cam’s eyes shot in the direction she was looking, but he said nothing, just seemed to tense.

  “Ah, that’s the very beautiful Grace Sinclair, my brother’s one true love. She lives in New York now, but is here visiting her family . . . and Camden, of course.”

  “Shut up, Jackson,” Cam said, shooting Jackson a look that could kill.

  “Just speaking the truth,” Jackson said, making Alyssa suddenly want to be anywhere but with the two brothers, who seemed to be about ready to start a duel.

  Before she could pull away and go, Jackson took her from Cam’s arms, lifted her up, and sat her on his lap. He turned her head toward him, gave her a short kiss, and whispered into her ear what his plans were when they got home. She was sure the blush that stole over her cheeks was bright enough to light up the entire darkening barn. She forgot all about the tense moment the brothers had just had.

  “Who’s ready for a nice fire?”

  Alyssa looked up to find Martin standing at the barn doors, and that’s when she noticed the glow outside.

  “Want to go sit by the fire and listen to scary tales?” Jackson asked.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Nope. Spence tells the best ones. He’ll have all the kids screaming in no time at all. Then they’ll rush inside and watch Disney flicks while the grown-ups have a few beers and visit.”