Rocky Mountain Heat

Chapter Thirteen

Jaxi slipped a final peach half into the jar, topped it up with syrup and sealed the lid. Placing the jar with the others in the large pot on the stove, she closed the cover with a hum of satisfaction. She still had a couple of hours until supper, and after this last canner was done, she was caught up on her work.

She gave a little hop to sit on the counter, eating a ripe peach while she waited for the water to reach a boil before she could set the timer for the last batch. Juice dribbled down her fingers and chin, and she was slowly licking it off when she spotted Blake standing in the doorframe of the kitchen.

Watching her with hungry eyes.

Heat welled inside.

“You want a peach?” She held out a ripe fruit and beamed at him as he padded closer. He took the peach from her fingers, placed it carefully on the countertop and lifted her hand to his mouth, licking along the edges and between her knuckles. He opened her legs, pressing her thighs to the side as he slipped against her body.

“Just the sweet juice.”

He lapped along her chin, short little strokes like butterfly flutters over her skin. Jaxi closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation. It had been a long day with little sleep last night, between the loving and the worry of the trip to Red Deer.

Mike and Marion were stuck in the hospital for at least another couple of days. Blake had brought Jaxi home and set out the work schedule for the boys based on Mike’s suggestions and their usual routine.

The last time she’d seen him that morning was when he’d kissed her goodbye after breakfast. A sweet, lingering kiss that had made her toes curl. Having the resistance between the two of them over, and finally being together, made satisfaction settle deep in her soul. They hadn’t had a chance to finish their conversation—the one where she confessed she loved him and he hadn’t said much back. It didn’t seem the thing to poke him with while they’d hurried out the door to Red Deer, all worried about his folks. And she’d slept the entire trip home.

But somehow, from the way he’d been acting, she didn’t think she needed to be too concerned.

“You didn’t stop for dinner. Want me to warm something?”

Blake licked her neck and her collarbone. He unbuttoned her shirt. His fingers smoothed over her skin as he pushed the fabric aside to reveal her bra.

“I see what I’m looking for and it’s plenty hot already.” He slid the shirt off her shoulders to the countertop. “I like your bra, Slick, very lacy and pretty pink, but it’s a little too nice for what I have in mind.”

While he kissed, he brushed his fingers around her back, and the cool air of the kitchen flowed over her as he undid her bra. As if fascinated, he tugged off one shoulder strap at a time to let the cups fall away from her breasts.

“Blake?”

“I had something real interesting planned yesterday when we got interrupted.” Blake lugged a tall stool from the corner of the room and returned to his spot in front of her. His head lined up with her breasts, and he hummed with satisfaction.

“We’ve had that stool since I was little. Ma used it to let us get a better reach on things, and it works as good now as ever. Maybe even better since the treats are sweeter.”

He cupped a breast in each hand and lowered his head to cover the exposed surface of one with his hot mouth. Jaxi braced her arms behind her on the counter as an electric shock pulsed all the way to her womb. He alternated sides, lapping and sucking. She shut her eyes and enjoyed his intimate touch.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

Blake slid away, and somewhere nearby a drawer opened and closed. She debated peeking when drops of liquid touched her skin, rolling down the swell of her breast. Moisture trailed to the tip of her nipple and clung there, cool in the moving air blowing in the window.

She opened her eyes to see he had the peach in slices. He’d crushed one piece between his fingers, letting the juice land on her body.

“Close your eyes,” he warned.

Jaxi laughed before squeezing them shut. And waited.

Moist heat flicked as he lapped at the juice. Blake followed every sticky sweet line with his tongue, licked her skin clean, covered her with kisses. His fingers rolled her nipples, pinching and teasing. Ripples of desire spread through her body; her panties grew damp. The sound of something bumping and rattling slowly filtered though her sexual haze. The canner was ready, the water boiling.

“I’ve got to set the timer.”

“How long you need?” he asked around a mouthful of breast.

“Thirty minutes.”

He drew back with a satisfied suck. She looked down to see him stare at her with admiration, his hands still supporting her.

“Blake?”

“I’ll tell you when thirty minutes are up.” He stood, knocking the stool behind him to the floor. He plucked her off the counter and carried her to the dining room, laying her on the solid wood table. He opened the button on her shorts and tugged until they slipped off, leaving her clad only with the matching panties to the bra he’d discarded in the kitchen.

“Blake Coleman, I hope you’ve got your brothers working on something that’s going to keep them far away from the house. Ohhh!”

He’d slid her down the table to where he usually sat, her panties suddenly dangling from his fingers.

“Nobody’s going to show up here for a while. I want to see you, Jaxi. All of you. I want to sit at my place at the table and remember touching and sucking your pretty pussy. Everyone will wonder why I can’t stop smiling.” He shifted her slightly to get a better view.

“Open yourself for me.”

Jaxi flushed. She already sat naked on the table where she’d shared Christmas dinners and birthday cakes with the Coleman family. She let her legs fall open and used one hand to slide her curls apart.

He leaned forward and licked, and her leg twitched so hard it slipped off the table. He smiled at her.

And did it again.

Sensations wrapped around Jaxi to meld into one enormous collage of emotion and touch. The pot bubbled on the stove, the canning jars rattling as they processed in the high heat. The windows were open, and a light breeze blew though the house, ruffling the curtains before coiling over her heated skin. Blake licked and sucked, slipped a finger inside her sheath and pulled her cream up and over her skin before rasping hard with his tongue. Time stood still as he loved her with his mouth, his fingers, his patient touch. She shook as her release came, waves of pleasure he drew out by licking again and again.

Then he stood, dropped his jeans, and slid in.

His cock was hot and hard, stretching her, as he forced his way into her body a little more with each stroke. She was attempting to meet him, trying to match with his timing, when he touched his fingers to her clit and rubbed.

Bursts of pleasure, sharp and fast, broke over her. He held her by one hip and leaned into the table, pressure mounting, his movements growing desperate, frantic even. He thrust hard enough the table rocked. He drove deeper still and shouted. His semen, hot and wet, bathed her inside as she shuddered around him again, her passage squeezing him tight.

Blake dropped his hands, one on either side of her body, and breathed hard, still buried in her body. His eyes caught hers, the grey storm clouds swirling. She gasped for air, her breasts jiggling with each breath she took. A trickle of moisture escaped from where they connected, and she tensed.

He’d done it again. They’d done it again. No protection.

He gave her cheek a gentle caress before he pulled out and tucked himself back into his jeans. Without a word he slipped her panties back on, helped with her shorts before carrying her back to the kitchen and assisting with her bra and shirt. Every time she tried to speak, he stroked a finger over her lips or brushed her to silence with a kiss.

Once she was fully clothed, he lifted the canning pot from the stove to the hot pads and helped her remove the steaming jars to the sideboard to cool with the rest of her labours.

He took her in his arms and kissed her senseless one final time before grabbing another peach from the countertop and strolling to the door.

“Supper at six thirty?”

Jaxi blinked in surprise, then nodded dumbly.

He took a big bite of the peach, then wiped the juice from his chin with the back of his hand as his eyes twinkled at her. “Peaches. My favourite.”

He winked and scooted out the door, leaving Jaxi a little dizzy in his wake.