Courting Bathsheba Read online

  He swatted her playfully on the bottom, and she yelped in surprise. “Fragile old lady, my ass.” His hands leisurely stroked the spot he just spanked. “I want more of you, could fuck you for hours if I had the energy, but I'm not eighteen anymore. Longer recovery period, you know.” He gave her a wry grin.

  She smiled in returned, then hastened to cover a yawn. “Sorry. It's way past my bedtime, and I'm not used to this kind of exercise, especially at this time of night."

  David anchored her to him and rolled them both to their sides. His features grew solemn, more intense. “Can you stay longer?"

  Ann found it harder and harder to stifle the yawns. “Just a few more minutes,” she murmured sleepily and ran her hand down his arm and across his back. In moments she was asleep against him, waking only once when he slipped out of her and left the bed for a bathroom break. She was vaguely aware when he crawled into bed and spooned against her.

  It wasn't until a pleasant heat lapped in waves over her breasts and belly that she fully awakened. The room was dark, and David lay curled tightly around her, generating a sleepy warmth that seeped into her skin and bones. She stretched against him. His hands were busy beneath the covers, stroking her skin and squeezing her breasts while he nuzzled his face into the back of her neck.

  The sweet ache of desire pooled in her belly and pussy once more, and she gave only a token protest when David turned her onto her stomach and coaxed her to her hands and knees. The bedroom's encompassing darkness served to strengthen her other senses, She was acutely aware of his scent—musk and sleep, the feel of his hard thighs against hers as he positioned himself behind her, the press of his fingers as he spread her buttocks and ran a light finger from her anus down to her cunt, slipping into her wet heat. At some point before awakening her, he'd put on another condom. Nothing remained to interrupt the steady rise of her hunger.

  "Ann?"

  "Hurry,” she whispered. She lowered her head to the pillow and groaned when he slid into her in one quick motion. Her back arched as she took him deep, savoring the stretching feel of his shaft as he fucked her slowly. The position allowed him a harder penetration, and he echoed her moans. They moved together in a primitive dance until her nails scraped across the pillowcase, and he thrust into her hard enough to scoot her closer to the headboard.

  His thighs rubbed against the back of hers, the teasing nestle of his balls against the back of her cunt a slow fire that built until she squirmed and pleaded for him to fuck her harder, faster. He grasped her hair like a mane and rode her hard, scraping his teeth on the back of the neck when he came. She had only a moment to register the slight sting of his bite when he pulled out of her and flipped her onto her back. With her legs draped over his shoulders and his face buried between her thighs, it wasn't long before Ann followed him, crying “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus” in sacrilegious prayer. Again they fell asleep, too exhausted for anything more than a leisurely kiss and a tight embrace.

  When she awoke a third time, weak morning light was bleeding through the window blinds. David lay against her, snoring softly in her ear. Ann crawled across the mattress, trying not to disturb him. Muscles unused to such vigorous exercise screamed in protest as she limped to the bathroom. She made use of his shower and basic toiletries. He was still asleep when she returned the bedroom, wrapped in one of his towels.

  Her clothes lay in a small heap on his side of the bed. Ann dressed quietly and glanced at the clock on one of the bedside tables. A little past six. She should have left before dawn, but the previous night's excesses had left her drained, sated, and her sleep had been deep.

  Once dressed, she didn't know what to do. It would seem both rude and insensitive to leave without a word. Granted, this was nothing more than a one-night stand—the thought made her a little queasy—but she still wanted something more than sneaking out the door. A good-bye said. Maybe an embrace if it wasn't too awkward. When she turned again to admire him stretched out on the bed, David was awake, watching her.

  "Are you sure I can't convince you to spend the day with me? Stay another night?"

  She smiled. “Tempting, but no. I have to get home."

  He sighed and rolled out of bed. She almost whistled her appreciation at the sight of his firm buttocks when he bent and slid his jeans on, not bothering with his boxers. Even half asleep, with his eyes puffy and long hair tangled, he was still one of the handsomest men she'd ever seen.

  "Do you want coffee?"

  Ann shook her head, refusing the offer. “No. I just need to go."

  David rubbed his jaw, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Okay. Let me get my shirt and I'll walk you to your car."

  "That's not necessary. Just walk me to the door."

  He frowned but acquiesced to her wishes. She savored the feel of his hand resting on the small of her back as he escorted her through the apartment. Before she could phrase her good-bye, he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her against him.

  "Any regrets?"

  "Honestly?"

  "Honestly."

  "No. None. I find some of it hard to believe, but I don't regret any of it.” She caressed the side of his face, tracing her fingers through his short beard. “Thank you, David. I won't forget this or you. Some lucky woman will win the proverbial lottery when she lands you."

  He captured her hand and kissed it. Disappointment dulled his green eyes. “You won't let me call or e-mail, will you?"

  Oh, the temptation. Ann wanted more of them than just the one night, but now wasn't the right time. “No, I need time. My life has taken a completely different turn. I want to adjust to it, get used to it—by myself."

  David tucked his hands in his front pockets and scuffed his foot against the floor. “All that charm you say I have isn't doing me much good when I have bad timing.” He ran a finger down her arm. “Will you at least tell me your last name before you go?"

  She leaned into him. “MacLeod,” she said against his lips. “Ann MacLeod."

  David seized his opportunity and kissed her deeply, kneading her back with strong hands. They were both flushed when they broke apart.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “I'm usually at O'Malley's on Wednesdays and Saturdays.” His mouth turned up in a faint smile. “In case you're in town for another shopping trip."

  Tears clogged her throat. She didn't trust herself to do more than nod before slipping out into the hallway. She took the stairs down to the ground level and got into her car. She felt the weight of David's gaze from the window, even after she pulled away from the curb.

  The drive home was uneventful, the house still empty when she arrived. Over the next few days, she and the kids celebrated her birthday as planned, they none the wiser of the extraordinary night she'd shared with an even more extraordinary man. She hugged her pillow when she slept and dreamed of David curled around her beneath clove-scented sheets.

  It was a blessing that the month following that blissful evening kept her busy. The days leading up to the end of school term were so frantic she had little time to fantasize about the events of her birthday. Only during the last week, when the students were gone and her classroom was prepped for closing did Ann find herself with unoccupied time.

  She tried filling the moments with research, preparing for another lecture series in the coming summer. But proposals and research only occupied her waking hours. The nights were the hardest. She'd slept alone for almost two years, even before she and Peter separated. The bed had never before seemed so empty.

  During the last day of in-service, before summer break, Ann received a packet of information from the seminar coordinator. She flipped through the directory listing the various lectures and panels scheduled over the three-day period. A yellow sticky note fell suddenly from the pages and landed on her foot.

  Ann retrieved it, curious.

  I'm a coordinator this year, and a lecturer. See page 42.

  She stuck the note to the directory and flipped to page forty-two. The section focu
sed on British history. She recognized several lecturers, academics who had attended and presented at the seminar every year. Her gaze caught on one entry near the bottom, and her heartbeat rocketed into light speed.

  The Cross and The Claymore. A brief look at the role of warrior monks in ancient Britain. Presented by David Abrams.

  Another sticky note was wedged between the pages.

  I dream about you.

  He'd found her. Ann's trembling fingers skated gently over the directory. She missed him. God, did she miss him. Temptation was too great, and she fell before its lure. Maybe once more. They didn't have to do more than go for coffee or a walk in the nearby park. Perfectly innocent. Just once more.

  As the days passed, she came up with numerous excuses to be out of the house on Saturday. Whether luck or fate, things fell more neatly into place than she expected. All three kids would be out of the house for the weekend, busy with their own lives. Once again, she had several hours to do as she willed with no questions asked. And this time her excitement ran high.

  Ann wasted no time at the stores looking for books or knickknacks. Instead, she made a beeline directly for O'Malley's. She'd try there first, and if David wasn't at the pub, she'd hold on to her courage and visit his apartment.

  The pub was as dim as she remembered but far more crowded than when she last visited. It would be sheer luck to find him here. Her nerves were strung tight, and she made her way to the bar to order a glass of wine. The man tending the bar was young—college age—and Mike was nowhere in sight. The bartender offered a polite smile and took her drink order.

  Ann gazed around the pub. The stage was crowded with equipment but no people, and she grew more and more doubtful she'd find David in this crush. Besides, the music streaming from the speakers was far less enticing than the flamenco that first drew her into O'Malley's. She'd drink the wine quickly and leave for his apartment. Ann prayed he was at home and refused to contemplate the crushing disappointment that awaited her if he was at neither location.

  The bartender returned with her wine and a message. “The wine is covered. Enjoy."

  Ann stared at the glass. Her order had been for a Sauvignon Blanc. The bartender delivered a glass of Lagrima. A warm excitement made her shiver in anticipation, and she stared around her, hoping to catch sight of a tall, handsome man with long auburn hair and a winning smile. She didn't even jump when graceful hands came to rest on the bar's surface on either side of her. A blanket of heat covered her back, and she caught the enticing scent of cloves.

  "Hello, Bathsheba."

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  Grace Draven

  Grace Draven is a Louisiana native, living in Texas, and is a financial analyst by trade. She is the member of a large on-line network of writers, as well as a member of a site that archives fiction works. In the spare moments between working a full-time job and caring for three small children she writes romantic fiction. Grace has lived in Spain, honeymooned in Scotland, hiked through the Teton Mountains, ridden in competition rodeo and is the great, great-granddaughter of a Nicaraguan president. She is an avid fan of medieval history, Renaissance faires, Russian culture and the culinary arts.

  If you would like to contact Ms. Draven, please e-mail her at [email protected].

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  Doranis of Helenrisia travels south to Caskadan, bound by duty to secure trade agreements by marrying a woman who loathes the sight of him. Marked by the ancient magic of the Waste, he is surprised to discover one who finds him fascinating instead of repellant. But Castil is beyond his reach, cut off from him by birth, circumstance and distance.

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  Until Sunny and Nash make it clear that he hasn't lost anything ... and he still has a great deal to gain...

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