'Wait' - part 3 'Jack'
The Same Night
Jack paced across the floor yet again.
"What have I done?"
He paused in front of Rip and stared down at him but the hound only quietly whined and offered no answers.
He was so angry at himself.
"How could I have pushed her that way Rip?" He smacked his right fist into his left hand with a vengeance. "And after I'd promised myself I wouldn't."
He shook his head in frustration with himself and his sheer stupidity.
"Elizabeth is about to become my wife and I can't control my urges and go and treat her like some common trollop?!"
Finally, he stopped over at the door, placed his hands on either side of the frame and leaned his head over until his forehead bounced off the splintered wood.
"I ought to be shot." He swung around to Rip again. His old buddy seemed to be sincerely listening now.
"Why…why did she have to wear that dress?" He tossed his hands up. "She knows I act like a fool every time I see her in it. She must."
Jack thought of how stunningly beautiful his bride to be had looked when she'd swung the door open this evening. Her face had glowed; her eyes had sparkled.
It was that woman who had kept him alive when things had gotten their bleakest for him in battle these last few months. It was her beautiful face, her sweet voice, her courage, her determination and the knowledge that above all, she loved him more than anyone else in the world that had gotten him safely back to her.
And how had he repaid her?
By pawing at her?
Taking liberties that were not yet his to take?
By making her embarrassed and ashamed of something that was so beautiful?
Shooting wasn't good enough. He should be horsewhipped. And then shot.
He dragged himself over to his desk and sank into his chair. Pulling his hands to his forehead, he tried to think rationally and calmly about tonight.
He had to fairly admit that he had never been in love with any woman the way he was with Elizabeth. And well, that just made things different for him.
Never had he wanted a woman the way he yearned for her. His entire being was just on fire for her since his return. It was as if he'd been in the desert for months without water and she was his drinking source. He couldn't get enough of her.
Was this what men whispered of in saloons and back room card games? Was this desire what he could now see in Lee's eyes when he looked at Rosemary when he thought no one was looking?
Jack thought back to all the women he had been involved with before Elizabeth. Yes, he was a man and he had wanted to kiss them all at one time or another. He supposed sometimes it was just because he knew it was expected of him, not because it had been something he truly wanted that badly. It certainly hadn't been something he had craved the way he did with Elizabeth.
He had always been proud of his ability to hold himself separate from the lustful desires that other men felt. As a Mountie, he'd always felt his training and discipline put him above some of the baser instincts that men have towards women. His calling had always been higher in his mind than any obstacle placed in his path.
Until her.
She was his weakness. And his strength.
She was his moon and his stars and his sun.
Elizabeth made his life infinitely better; she made him a better man.
And yet, he had done so poorly by her this evening.
She must be disappointed in him right now. To think that he had lost control of himself to the extent he did was just unacceptable.
He closed his eyes against the feelings that rushed through him-her softness against his chest, his lips, his…hands.
If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he had dreamed of their marriage bed while he'd been away. She had been far away and he had been longing for her and doing so had made her seem closer.
He'd thought of her beneath him, her nakedness soft against his skin. He knew she would smell incredible all over just as she always did.
And as her husband, he would take a personal responsibility for her needs.
He wanted to make certain that she were as wanting of him as he was of her.
He would go as slowly as she needed.
He thought of the way her breathing had gotten intense tonight as they had touched.
He pinched his eyes together, feeling the quick rush of desire the memory brought him.
Or as quickly as she needed.
He knew it was folly but he had allowed himself to imagine her; wearing only the thinnest night gown, reaching for him.
In his daydreams, she would need him as much as he needed her. She would reach for him, breathe his name and plead with him to…
The way she had…tonight?
Had he just imagined her incredible response to his touch?
Had she really trembled in his arms, her voice panting and breathless as he'd touched her?
He knew Elizabeth was a passionate woman. She showed it in her work with the children, her devout loyalty to her friends and the way she was willing to put personal cost aside to champion a cause she believed in. But until he had returned from the North, he had never felt that she had completely turned all of that beautiful passion on him.
She had always maintained propriety with him and he had always hesitated to push things further. A kiss had to be just a kiss. A light touch had to stay, well, light. Like her, he knew 'further' had to include marriage for them. His mind knew it, his heart knew it. But tonight, he had let his body take the reign.
Wrongly, he knew. He would need to beg her forgiveness. That was a surety.
But oh, what a wondrous revelation he'd glimpsed in his bride to be.
It was something he couldn't erase from his mind. The breathy sounds of desire, the need in her sweet voice as she had given in to her own passion and asked for his.
He wanted so much to see it again-soon.
But no, it was becoming too dangerous for them. After this evening, there was no going back to simple or light touches. This was no game they were playing.
Elizabeth was a craving in his blood that wouldn't be quenched. He wanted all of her.
He kicked away from his desk now and laid his head back on his chair. When had it changed between them? When had it gotten so heated that he could barely stop himself? What had led up to his bad behavior tonight?
He supposed it had been a gradual, slow process but since he'd returned, it had been so much more intense. He knew that for a fact. He also supposed their heightened passion was a natural extension of their engagement.
But no, that wasn't completely right. He thought he knew the moment- the very moment- this past week that he went from being a patient suitor willing to wait to becoming the starved man he became with her tonight. Yes, he knew the exact moment he'd felt it change in himself and in her-the moment that he had completely awakened to the depth of the passions between them.
It hadn't been the welcome home kiss. There had been too many raw emotions and tears and embraces of sheer relief and outpouring of joy in that precious moment. In the hours and days afterward, there had been too much to share and catch up on between them and too many other friends to visit for either of them to have many private moments.
No, it had been earlier this week, the fourth day he'd been home. He'd been getting back to his normal routine, finishing up his daily rounds and he'd decided on the spur of the moment to stop by and see her after school. He wanted to see the pleased, surprised look on her face when she looked up to see him standing there. He'd been hopeful of coercing her to go on a walk with him.
When he'd walked in the back door, what he'd seen wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting. She was cleaning the desk benches with pine oil and water. She had pulled her hair up into a messy heap on her head with just stray strands fighting loose. She was bent over a desk scrubbing hard when he leaned in the doorway to enjoy the view.
She was humming to herself when she began to sway her hips ever so slightly to the upbeat tune. He had felt himself mesmerized by the way her hips swayed and her beautiful figure in her neat work dress became the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. A stab of desire had made him instantly want to reach for those hips and hold them still beneath his own. The need had shot through him with a power he'd never felt in his life.
It was the image that drove him over toward her, as she had been still unaware of his presence. He'd quietly come up behind her as she was bent over near the end of a row. Reaching for her waist, he's swung her quickly around.
With a yelp, she had dropped her rag onto the floor and grabbed his upper arms to steady herself.
Perfect.
She was dirty, messy and looked absolutely delicious. She'd opened her mouth to speak when he'd taken advantage and leaned down to take her mouth with his own.
He hadn't been very gentle with her that afternoon. He remembered vividly now the taste of her surprised mouth under his own fevered one. He'd bit at her mouth a bit roughly with his own desire for her and he could still hear her breathy gasp in his ear. That moment she had let herself go with him.
Just like tonight.
He had needed so badly that afternoon to feel her beneath him. The need had been born of a hundred lonely, sleepless nights in the North not knowing if or when he would return to her.
And just like that, he'd poured himself completely into that moment between them. He's turned her and walked her back to the wall of the schoolhouse. She must have been too surprised to fight him. He'd cradled her head and used his tongue to lick at her soft, soft lips. She had moaned his name out even then. He knew he would never get tired of hearing it said in that beautiful, tortured way she had breathed it.
Had she wanted him equally? Could it really even be possible that a woman like Elizabeth could want that much?
Then, he thought back to how he had leaned into her, putting his own body against her incredible softness. He could clearly recall how she'd melted against him. She hadn't fought him in the least as he'd slid his rough hands down her arms and entwined his fingers in hers and slowly brought her hands up on the wall beside her head. He had held them there, kissing her more aggressively than ever before.
And no, she hadn't asked him to stop. In that moment, with her beneath him on the wall, her soft mouth achingly sweet against his own, her tongue willing to spar with his own, he had felt incredible. He'd felt like nothing was impossible.
But he hadn't gone as far as he had tonight.
Fortunately, though he hadn't thought so at the moment, Frank had ridden up that afternoon a couple of days ago in a wagon filled with supplies to do some repair on several of the benches.
At hearing the noise outside, he had grudgingly growled and pushed away from Elizabeth, his hands releasing hers. He had dropped his head, breathing heavily as he forced his body back into control.
Elizabeth had blushed and awkwardly adjusted her clothing. She had stepped away from the wall, straightened her shoulders and every bit the lady again, walked over to where she had abandoned her cleaning supplies.
Frank had come in and he'd greeted him and offered to give him a hand with the repairs.
Elizabeth had quietly packed her things away and eased away without saying much. But her last glance toward him seemed to say so much. There had appeared to be a banked fire burning in her fleeting gaze.
That memory of that kiss and her heated gaze had kept him hungry for her. It was a hunger that was getting out of control for him and frankly, one he really didn't have experience in dealing with.
He had to marry the woman and soon or he was concerned he would allow himself to become too aggressive. He was relying on her to keep him in check now and he knew that wasn't right. It wasn't fair to Elizabeth. Not when he now wanted to coax that same uninhibited response from her every time he touched her.
Elizabeth had given him the world. She had given him a gift by agreeing to become his wife that was a gift that he wanted no chance of losing.
Not now. Not ever.
And then, he remembered.
Her gift- that beautiful pillow.
He'd walked away and left it.
What must she think?
He knew then he had to go to her again. He had to beg her forgiveness and tell her he would do whatever he had to do; to let her know he knew that true love was patient.
He could wait for her to become his wife.
But this matter couldn't wait.
Glancing at the clock, he noted the late hour. It didn't matter.
He had to go to her tonight and make this right.
He shot to his feet and looked again over at Rip.
"Yeah, yeah…I know what an idiot I am."
The dog grunted and rolled over on his side to adjust himself for a nap.
Jack grabbed his jacket and practically sprinted out the door.