What a way to make a man feel ten feet tall! Damn, I’ve missed totally scattering her wits like that. What a fool I was, letting the grind of daily life drive our love down into something ordinary…
Rachel came back to herself with a double blink, finally realizing her fiancé was beaming at her like a lit-up Christmas tree. She thought briefly about twitting him for being so smug, but conceded that it was well-deserved smugness. That, and it was much easier to whisper a simple “Wow.”
“Mm-hmm,” Steve agreed smugly, cupping her damp mound under the layers of bedding. His groin twitched with desire, feeling how slick he had made her, but he told that part of himself to hush. Tonight was for his future wife to enjoy. If she wanted more, she’d let him know. If not, it was enough to have pleased her so thoroughly. She deserved being pleased.
Thankfully, his loins agreed with that decision; Rachel was worth far more to him than the proverbial quick roll in the hay.
His quietude puzzled Rachel. Arching a brow, she asked, “Is that it? No pouncing on me?”
The curve of his mouth deepened from a smirk to a leer. “If you want more of the same, I’d love to do it all over again.”
Oh. She blinked at him, thought about him suckling her again, and of him not being that eager to release himself. Since she could feel his erection prodding her hip, she knew he was eager physically, but he hadn’t even hinted at his own need. “Why? I mean, why pamper me, and not take any pleasure for yourself?”
“Who said I don’t enjoy that?” Steve countered, propping his head up on his hand. The air was cold against his arm, but he was still a bit heated from being buried under the covers. “It pleases me a lot to pleasure you. Tonight is your night. Anything you want,” he promised impulsively, almost rashly, “and if it’s within my power, I’ll give it to you.”
And I thought he’d melted my body into warm goo with that mouth of his, she thought distractedly. Who knew he could melt my heart, too, after all these years together? Thoughts whirling, she settled on what she really wanted, and slid a hand onto his shoulder, pushing him over. “What I want, right now…is to please you as thoroughly as you have just pleased me. So kindly make an air tunnel for me.”
Grinning at the ceiling, Steve complied, first making sure the quilts and sheet stayed high on his chest while she squirmed underneath, then rumpling them just so to ensure that she could breathe as she kissed her way down his chest. He didn’t want his fiancée to suffocate, after all. Especially with her mouth full.
Three
THE ALARM CLOCK RANG ALL TOO EARLY, AS IT USUALLY DID, but both Rachel and Steve woke with that wonderful, must-stretch-under-the-covers sensation of having had a truly good and relaxing night’s sleep. Rachel winced as Steve turned on the lamp by the bed, smirked as he slapped off the alarm, and kissed him with closed lips when he leaned over her. Morning breath was always a worry, but a peck on the lips was a very nice way to start the morning in a good frame of mind.
Good enough that the chill in the air only made both of them gasp and hurry to dress for the morning’s chores. Even with Pete out in the barn, ready to help shift the cows from their stalls to the attached dairy annex and give them their morning feed, it would still be a chore. Since he could still hear the wind whisking the snow around the house, Steve crossed to one of the heavily draped windows and peeked between the velveteen curtains. He frowned, trying to make sense of what he saw.
With his and Rachel’s bedroom being on the ground floor, with the understanding that the “ground floor” technically started two feet above the actual level of the ground, it took him a few moments to process what he was looking at in the sliver of light that shone through the windowpanes: snow that had piled up to the bottom edge of the window.
Six feet of snow.
There had been about eight to ten inches of snow left over from previous storms, compacted by time, wind, and almost-thawing before freezing again. It usually didn’t snow more than a few inches, half a foot at most per snowstorm, but it rarely thawed in Iowa long enough for all of the snow to melt away, just compact down. By the time spring rolled around, it would be a couple feet thick, but that was at the end of winter. This much snow in a single fall was almost surreal.
“Six feet…”
Rachel, tugging her head through the sweater she was pulling on over a long-sleeved knit shirt, padded over to join him. “What did you say?”
“Six feet!” He held the curtain back so that she could see for herself. It was somewhat dark outside, though still lit by a faint, almost sourceless, orange-peach glow that undoubtedly came from the lights over by the barn, and the streetlamp glow from the nearby town. “Assuming it hasn’t drifted up on this side of things, that’s six feet of snow out there! This is one of those storms that only comes along once every half-century!”
“Wow,” she breathed, staring at the still-falling flakes, which didn’t have quite so far to fall anymore.
“You’re only allowed to say that after I give you mindless pleasure,” Steve teased her, drawing her into his arms as he let the curtain fall back into place. They shared a loving but brief kiss before he set her free with a sigh. “I’m going to have to crawl through the snow to get to the barn, then shovel my way back again. I told Pete the milking starts at five o’clock sharp; I hope he has the sense to start without me, or the girls will get off their schedule and stop producing as much milk.”
“You’ll need a hearty meal when you’re done. I’ll start making sausage…um…chicken gravy and buttermilk biscuits for breakfast,” Rachel amended, thinking of the two guests who wouldn’t be able to eat pork.
“I’ll need a hearty meal before I’m done,” Steve quipped, shifting to pull on a second layer of wool socks. The rest of him might get warm from the exertion of all that shoveling, but his toes would freeze if he didn’t take care of his feet.
RACHEL JERKED TO A STOP BY THE PARTIALLY OPEN STUDY door. Frowning, she poked her head inside, searching the brightly lit room for its occupant, which shouldn’t have been brightly lit at all. The nubbly black curls and chocolate-colored nape of their tan-clad guest met her gaze. He was doing something on their computer, checking something online. Stepping inside, Rachel caught his attention. “Excuse me, but this room is off-limits to guests.”
He turned to face her with an apologetic smile. “I’m terribly sorry; I didn’t realize. I just saw the computer and the router, and thought I could check my e-mail. Um…while I was online, your instant messaging thingy popped up a little window. You’ve received an e-mail from someone about a Mr. Swanson. The subject line looked rather urgent—I’m done here, so you can check it out yourself,” he added, closing out the last window and rising from her office chair. “Forgive me my meddling, but I wanted to make sure my business was running smoothly.”
“What sort of business?” Rachel found herself asking in curiosity as he moved out of her way.
Mike smiled warmly. “Knowledge. It is important to learn, and it is vital to understand. I am something of a teacher, and something of an information broker, a researcher. But then, you already know an education is important; after all, you wouldn’t be so successful as a bed-and-breakfast owner if you and your impending husband hadn’t gone to college…and met there, and fallen in love. I’ll leave you to your work, and go sit in the front parlor.”
Rachel blushed as she smiled. Settling into the chair, she started to face the monitor, then turned back. “Oh—I need to stoke and build up the fire in that room first.”