He chuckled. “I’m afraid I’m more pampered than that. It’s baseboard heating. But I do have a huge stone fireplace … if that makes you feel better.”
“Oh, yes,” she breathed, then quickly climbed from the car and tugged her coat around her. The air was dry, with a sharp nip to it. Snow continued to fall, but it was light, enchanting rather than threatening. Marni wondered if anything could threaten her at that moment. She felt bold and excited and happy.
She looked at Web and beamed. She was in love, and in this place, so far from the city, she felt free.
Chapter 6
To Marni’s amazement, what had appeared to be a log cabin was, from within, like no log cabin she’d ever imagined. Soon after Web had bought the place, he’d had it gutted and enlarged. Rich barnboard from ceiling to floor sealed in the insulation he’d added. The furniture was likewise of barnboard, but plushly cushioned in shades of hunter green and cocoa. Though there was a hall leading to the addition that housed Web’s bedroom and a small den, all Marni saw at first was the large living area, with the kitchen and dining area at its far end. Oh, yes, there was a huge stone fireplace. But rather than being set into a wall as she’d pictured, it was a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree one with steel supports that would cast its warm glow over the entire room.
Like the apartment above Web’s studio, there was a sparseness to the decor, a cleanness of line, though it was very clearly country rather than city, and decidedly cozy.
After Marni had admired everything with unbounded enthusiasm, she helped Web stow the food they’d bought. Then he opened a bottle of wine, poured them each a glass and led her to the living area, where he set to work building a fire. The kindling caught and burned, and the dried logs were beginning to flame when he came to sit beside her on the sofa, opening an arm in an invitation she accepted instantly.
“I’m so happy I’m here with you,” she whispered, rubbing her cheek against the wool of his sweater as she snuggled close to him.
He tightened his arm and pressed a slow kiss to her forehead. “So am I. This has always been my private refuge. Now it’sourprivate refuge, and nothing could seem righter.”
She tipped her head back. “Righter? Is that a word?”
“It is now,” he murmured, then lowered his head and took her lips in a slow, deep, savoring kiss that left Marni reeling. Dizzily she set her wine on the floor and shifted, with Web’s eager help, onto his lap, coiling her arms around his neck, closing her eyes in delight as she brushed her cheek against his jaw.
“I love you,” she whispered, “love you so much, Web.”
He set his own wine down and framed her face with his hands. His mouth breezed over each of her features before renewing acquaintance with her mouth. A deep, moist kiss, a shift in the angle of his head, a second deep, moist kiss. The exchange of breath in pleasured sighs. The evocative play of tongues, tips touching, circling, sliding along each other’s length.
Marni hadn’t had more than a sip of her wine, but she was high on love, high on freedom. She was breathing shallowly, with her head resting on his shoulder, when he began to caress her. She held her breath, concentrating on the intensity of sensation radiating from his touch. He spread his large hands around her waist, moved them up over her ribs and around to her back in slow, sensitizing strokes.
“I love you, sunshine,” he whispered hoarsely, deeply affected by her sweet scent, her softness and warmth, her pliance, her emotional commitment. He brought his hands forward and inched them upward, covering her breasts, kneading them gently as she sighed against his neck.
Everything was in slow motion, unreal but exquisitely real. He caressed her breasts while she stroked the hair at his nape. He stroked her nipples while she caressed his back. They kissed again, and it was an exchange of silent vows, so deep and heartfelt that Marni nearly cried at its beauty.
“I was going to give you time,” Web whispered roughly. His body was taut with a need he couldn’t have hidden if he tried. “I was going to give you time … I hadn’t intended an instant seduction.”
“Neither had I,” she breathed no less roughly. Her eyes held the urgency transmitted by the rest of her body. “I’m so pleased just to be here with you … but I want you … want to make love to you.”
As much as her words inflamed him, he couldn’t forget the last time they’d tried. “Are you sure? No doubts? Or guilt?”
She was shaking her head, very sure. “Not here. Not now.” She pulled at his sweater. “Take this off. I want to touch you.”
He whipped the sweater over his head, and she started working at the buttons of his shirt. When they were released, she spread the fabric wide, gave a soft sigh of relief and splayed her fingers over his hair-covered chest.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered in awe. Her hands moved slowly, exploring the sinewed swells of him, delving to the tight muscles of his middle before rising again and seeking the flat nipples nested amid whirls of soft, dark hair. She rubbed their tips until they stood hard, and didn’t take her eyes from her work until Web forced her head up and hungrily captured her mouth.
His kiss left her breathless, and forehead to forehead they panted until at length he reached for the hem of her sweater and slowly drew it up and over her head. Slowly, too, he released one button, then the next, and in an instant’s clear thought Marni reflected on the leisure of their approach. Fourteen years ago, when they’d come together for the first time, it had been in a fevered rush of arms and legs and bodies. Last Saturday the fever had been similar, as though they’d had to consummate their union before either of them had had time to think.
This time was different. They were in love. They were alone, in the cocoon of a cabin whose solid walls, whose surrounding forest warded off any and every enemy. This time there was a beauty in discovering and appreciating every inch of skin, every swell, every sensual conduit. This time it was heaven from the start.
Entranced, Marni watched as Web pushed her blouse aside. He unhooked her bra and gently peeled it from her breasts, then with a soft moan he very slowly traced her fullness, with first his fingertips, then the flat of his fingers, then his palm. She was swelling helplessly toward him, biting her lip to keep from crying out, when he finally took the full weight of her swollen flesh and molded his hands to it. His thumbs brushed over her nipples. Already taut, they puckered all the more, and she had to press her thighs together to still what was too quickly becoming a raging inferno.
Web didn’t miss the movement. “Here …” He raised her for an instant, brought her leg around so that she straddled him, and settled her snugly against his crotch. With that momentary comfort, he returned his attention to her breasts.
“Web … Web …” she breathed. Her arms were looped loosely around his neck, her forehead hot against his shoulder. He was stroking her nipples again, and the action sent live currents through her body to her womb. Helplessly, reflexively, she began to slowly undulate her hips. “What you do to me—it’s so … powerful….”
“It’s what I feel for you, what you feel for me that makes it so good.”
She was shaking her head in amazement. “I used to think it was good back then … because we do have this instant attraction … but I can’tbelievewhat … I’m feeling now.”
“Then feel, sunshine.” He slipped his hands to her shoulders and pushed her blouse completely off, then her bra. “I want you to feel this …” He cupped her breasts and brought them to his chest, rubbing nipple to nipple until she wasn’t the only one to moan. “And this …” He sought her lips and kissed her hotly, while his fingers found the snap of her jeans, lowered the zipper and slid inside.
