by Tessa Layne
"Do you always negotiate like this before sex?"
"Don't you?"
He scoffed before his mouth landed on hers, rough and insistent. She melted into him, fisting his shirt as their tongues slid together. "No," he said, voice full of grit when they parted. "Let me be clear. Against my better judgment, I like you Cecilia. I don't want anyone else. I'm here for a few more months and I would like to spend that time with you. If you're willing. Object?"
"Against your better judgment?"
He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "That's what you got from that? Yes. Against my better judgment because you're ornery, demanding, and very high maintenance." He punctuated each of those with kisses that grew hotter by turns. "Arguing turns you on, and you need as many spankings as you need kisses."
Why did that send heat shooting straight to her pussy? Her body heated like an inferno, combusting from the inside out. His mouth landed on hers again, tongue hot and urgent as his fingers threaded through her hair, pulling just enough to draw a moan from her lips.
"And in spite of that, hell, maybe because of that, I like you. I like baiting you, and provoking you, and I sure as fuck like kissing you and anything else you decide we can do."
The heat in his declaration went straight to her soul. The last remnants of caution evaporated as his words sunk in. She tugged on his shirt, drawing him close. "Take me home, Trace."
His eyes lit and he kissed her, hard. "Where's your purse?" he asked roughly.
"Front room."
A moment later, he was back, purse in hand. He took hers with his free hand and pulled her to the back door. "People will see," she protested. "We should leave by the front door."
"Don't care." He squeezed her hand, a silent assurance as he ushered her across the yard and down the drive to where his truck was parked. Without a word he opened the passenger door and lifted her in, shutting the door as soon as she was settled and jogging around the front. He turned and speared her with an intense look. "Okay?"
She nodded mutely as the engine roared to life. Neither of them spoke on the blessedly short drive. The air between them was heavy with expectation, punctuated only by the sound of the blinker and the quiet rumble of the engine as the truck slowed to a stop. Cecilia's nerve endings popped with anticipation. She could practically feel Trace's mouth scraping across her aching nipples, settling on her swollen, throbbing clit.
"Stay there," Trace ordered as he cut the engine and hopped out, briefly pausing at the back of the truck before coming around and opening her door. He held up a hand, which she took, and braced the other on his shoulder as he helped her down.
"What's this?" she asked with a gasp as her gaze fell on the freshly repaired bike to her right.
Trace shrugged, a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. "I didn't want to return it until it was fixed."
"That's very sweet of you, but unnecessary. I've got the tools here in the barn."
Trace rolled his eyes. "Of course you do."
Cecilia could feel the wall of defensiveness rising - she was powerless to stop it. "Hey, don't knock it. I lived on a ranch with women. Someone had to figure out how to fix things."
Trace took her into his arms. "I know, I know. You don't like to be rescued, you can do it on your own, et cetera, et cetera." He kissed the tip of her nose. "But maybe, just maybe, I wanted to do something nice for you. No rescuing, just something nice. With no strings attached." He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh," she said in a small voice. She was embarrassingly, utterly unused to anyone except her girlfriends treating her with generosity. "Then thank you. I didn't mean to-"
"Shh." Trace stopped her mouth with a finger. "If you're happy with it, I'll wheel it up to the porch."
"I'd like that," Cecilia said with a nod. "Did you repaint it, too?" Upon closer inspection, it looked almost brand-new. "And you replaced the basket. I love it."
Trace turned and flashed her a smile that went straight to her heart. He looked genuinely pleased by her enthusiasm. Is that what this was supposed to be like? No fishing for compliments or striving to be noticed, just... hot kisses, sweet talk, friendly banter, and... nice? She followed him to the porch, stomach fluttering like the time she'd tried parasailing in Florida when she'd gone to watch her sister at the Olympic rowing trials. He leaned the bike against the house and turned, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "So..." Was he nervous?
Cecilia's heart gave an extra hard thud. She was definitely nervous. "So..."
"You gonna invite me in?"
An impish thought entered her head. She cocked her head, fighting a smile. "I might make you work for it."
Trace made a growl low in his throat and closed the distance between them, crowding her until she stepped back, only to be stopped by the support post. "You sure about that?"
Her insides were doing full-on somersaults and she squeezed her thighs at the insistent throbbing between her legs. "Yes?" she answered with too much expectancy. She had every intention of inviting him in, but the temptation to escalate was too great.
He braced an elbow on the post above her. "That so? You don't sound too convinced."
She let out a breathy laugh.
He hooked a finger just inside the neckline of her sundress, following the line to where the vee ended in a point between her breasts. Goosebumps spread across her skin. With a flick of his thumb, he released the top button in the line that ran down the front of her dress. "So pretty," he murmured.
Cecilia bit back a moan. He was working for it, all right, and driving her wild in the process. It took all her self-control to stay still and wait for his next move. He flicked open another button, revealing the pale pink mesh of her sheerest demi bra - a ridiculous splurge she'd bought at the urging of her sister in the aftermath of being dumped by Charlie. Her nipples pebbled, straining against the silky fabric. Just as she arched her back leaning into his barely there touch, he stepped back, jamming his hands in his pockets and hooking his thumbs over his black leather belt. Her eyes snapped to his as she swallowed a cry of frustration. His eyes gleamed as he held her gaze. "Still wanna play... sweetheart?"
Chapter Seventeen
Cecilia's eyes went nearly black. "You... tease," she hissed.
Trace was of two minds. On the one hand, it would be so easy to gather Cecilia into his arms, march her upstairs and ravish her, putting an end to their misery. On the other, there was sweet satisfaction seeing her squirm and fight with herself, knowing he'd be right there to catch her and take her to unparalleled heights when she inevitably gave in. He gave himself a mental shake as his cock throbbed painfully against his zipper. The latter was the path of misery, but also the greater payoff. Three months ago, the choice would have been easy. Trace McBride didn't wait for shit. Especially where pleasure was concerned. But this... this was new territory. He guessed that when Cecilia finally let go, her orgasm would be cataclysmic. And his ego was just big enough, he wanted to be the man who took her there. If that meant holding out a bit longer, he could do that.
The image of her leaning on the porch post burned into his brain, hair mussed but not yet wild, eyes hazy and heated, mouth plump from repeated kissing - pretty didn't even begin to cover the way she looked. Her flushed skin called to him, dusky pink from her cheeks down her neck to the point where her open dress revealed the hint of very fancy lingerie. That had been a surprise. Judging from her behavior, Cecilia was practical to a fault. Even the dress she wore today, while feminine and soft, was simple and unadorned. What would make her splurge on what appeared to be ridiculously expensive lingerie? That was a nut he'd look forward to cracking. He rubbed his beard. "I've been called worse," he admitted.
She let out a string of expletives, but didn't move from the post.
"So... you want me?"
She scowled, eyes flashing. "Two can tease, buddy." Her hand hovered over the third button on her dress. Trace flexed his hand, willing himself to stand still and not go all caveman and rip it open all the wa
y so he could devour her tits and maybe the rest of her right there on the porch. But then she did something that shocked him. She caressed herself, fingers lightly fluttering over her nipple before she pinched it. From the flare in her eyes, she pinched hard.
Fucking hell.
His mouth went dry, burned to ash at the sight of her teasing first one, then the other, then both nipples.
"Who wants who now?" she rasped, voice thick with arousal.
He dropped his head, a low rumble erupting from his belly. Jeezus, she was full of surprises. He fucking loved it. "Oh I think we both know the answer to that." He closed the distance between them and placed a hand on her cheek, pulling her mouth to his for a crushing kiss. "We're done playing games," he said against her mouth just before he bent and scooped her into his arms. He spun around, worked the front door open then kicked it shut behind him. He tore his mouth from hers only long enough to register the living room was in complete disarray. What in the hell had she been doing?
He had half a mind to march her ass straight to the kitchen and lay her out on the enormous farm table he remembered seeing, but they'd get to that. He fully intended to make use of every available surface. This time, he wanted to sink into the softness of a bed with her.
"Upstairs," she urged, seeming to read his mind. "On the right, across from the bathroom."
He took the stairs two at a time, and burst into her room relieved to see the bed wasn't a twin. At this point he didn't care, but he rather liked the idea of seeing her spread out on top of the sheets. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. His brain, hell, his body was racing a hundred miles an hour. So fast, his hands shook as he set her on the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees to pull off her boots. He placed a kiss on her ankle, then slowly worked his way up her leg until he reached the hem of her dress.
Trace sat back on his heels, admiring the view as he caressed her thighs. Cecilia's body was curvy and lush, with silky soft skin that heated under his touch. "So beautiful," he murmured, drinking her in. Raising his eyes, he zeroed in on her gaze with a lurch in his chest. She looked untamed, positively wild and overcome. The fire in her eyes shocked him. As he stared, she released the remaining buttons and let her dress fall open, exposing dark nipples pressing against silky mesh panels. Women stripping for him was nothing new. But his response to her was. He swallowed, mouth burning with the need to say something, but no words formed. He was stunned speechless. His heart thudded harder with each second that passed, and before he realized what he was doing, he was pulling at the buttons of his own shirt, wanting to bare himself in the same manner. It had never mattered to him what anyone thought of his body. He was used to having his abs on billboards, or when his movies were at Imax, being literally eighty feet tall. But right now, in the intimacy of this tiny bedroom in the middle of the sticks, he wanted Cecilia to see him.
Her smile of appreciation, when it came, puffed him up like a giant. He wanted to beat his chest and roar. She bent, running a hand across his chest. "Mmm," she voiced with appreciation. "How is it you have no scars?"
For a moment, her question set off alarm bells, but she was used to seeing real cowboys, and they all bore scars from the hard life of ranching, roping, or riding. He flashed her a smile he hoped would distract. "Lucky, I guess." He had a birthmark on his left hip, but it was always in his contract that special effects remove it. "Lie back," he said gruffly, deciding that yet again offense was the best defense.
She dropped back to her elbows, watching him avidly.
"You like to watch?"
Her mouth quirked and she lifted her brows. "Maybe. Gotta make sure you're doing it right."
Trace huffed out a laugh as he brushed a knuckle across her satin covered mound. "You gonna grade me? Make sure I take care of that perfect little pussy?" Cecilia's breath caught as he rubbed lower, letting a knuckle sink in a little deeper.
She swallowed audibly, eyes going dark. "Something like that."
Ahh.... so she liked it when he talked dirty. He tucked that information away for later. Slowly, with the patience of a gardener watching a seed sprout, he pulled her panties to the side and took his fill of her swollen pussy, before lightly stroking everywhere but where she wanted him to touch most. With a muttered curse about teasing, she pushed at her panties, shoving them down.
"Oh, I'm definitely not teasing you, sweetheart," he said with a low laugh, pulling them down her legs and discarding them on the floor. Okay, maybe he was drawing things out far longer than he usually did, but he was transfixed with her reactions, the way she responded to every brush and flick of his fingers. "I have every intention of seeing this through. And more than once," he said, bringing his mouth to the soft flesh of her inner thigh. The scent of her arousal hit him like a train. It was heady, hot, and sweet. His cock jerked in his shorts as he filled his lungs with it. Jeezus, the hit of her made his mind spin like he was high, only this was a thousand times better.
She rolled her hips, a silent invitation, or maybe an unspoken plea for more.
He couldn't resist yanking her chain a little bit more. "You'll have to use your words, sweetheart."
Cecilia's head snapped up, eyes narrowed to glittering points. "I don't beg."
"Oh?" He placed an open-mouthed kiss right at the juncture of thigh and torso, finishing by letting his teeth sink into the soft flesh.
She gasped audibly, then whimpered as he licked the spot he'd nipped. "You..."
"Devil? Ass?" he taunted with a grin. "Be a good girl and I'll give you exactly what you want."
"Do I look like a girl?" she snapped, panting.
He let out a full-throated laugh, doing the same thing to her other leg, smiling against her. "You're all woman," he admitted with a shake of his head that unleashed a moan as his mouth finally brushed her slick swollen lips. A wave of emotion swelled through him. Holy hell, if he wasn't careful, he could be upside down where Cecilia was concerned - in a hurry. He licked her, long and slow, shutting his eyes against the incredible sensation of her sliding against his tongue. She moaned again, louder this time, hands landing on his head with an iron grip as her hips rose to meet his mouth. He allowed himself only one more taste of her. It would be so easy to give in to his baser desires and devour her, but he had other plans this first time. He pulled back, breaking into a slow smile when she lifted her head with a scowl. "Calm down, woman. Take off your bra."
A sly look flashed across her face. "Pants first... cowboy."
The way she called him that, fully sarcastic yet breathy with desire, only made him harder. His cock was like iron, hot and throbbing. He was half-afraid he'd shoot his rocks the second she touched him. His hand lingered over his belt buckle. "Can you handle the heat?"
She smirked, eyes settling on the obvious bulge in his jeans. "Gotta make sure you're not bluffing."
"And if I'm not?" He pulled off his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter.
Her eyes followed the belt, then darted back to his. She tapped her mouth with a finger, nibbling on the tip. "Hmm... so many choices."
"Name one," he said gruffly, quickly losing patience with their latest round of sparring.
Cecilia lifted her chin, motioning for him to continue. "Show me the goods."
He bit back a laugh, but obliged, toeing off his boots, and dropping his jeans and boxer briefs in one motion. His cock sprung out, heavy and thick, and when she sucked in a quick breath, his chest puffed. "Satisfied?" He drew a hand along his length, showing off more than a little bit. Holding her gaze, he stepped out of the leg holes and kicked his bottoms across the floor to join his boots.
Her smile gave everything away as her eyes lit hungrily. "Quite." She reached behind her back and released the clasp, quickly shimmying out of the pink material. For a full moment, Trace forgot to breathe.
"You're fucking magnificent," he said, voice sticking low in his throat like he'd choked on something. Her breasts were full, but not large - a perfect handful - and very very rea
l. The kind of flesh he could worship and not worry about popping. But it was her nipples - dark peaks in an ocean of tawny flushed skin that had him salivating, ready to drop to his knees and worship her from head to toe - fuck drawing this out. He wanted all of her, right now. If he didn't, he might just lose his mind.
He covered the distance between them, and gently pushed her back, climbing on top of her and fisting his hands in her hair, holding her still and devouring her hot mouth. Beneath him, she moved with the rhythm of ocean waves, fingernails pulling at the skin along his spine. He groaned into her mouth as he deepened the kiss, lost in the surge and swell of their own making. He wanted her every way, all at once, his mind quickly filling to the point of overload. This felt too damn good. She felt like everything - all that he'd ever wanted, all that he could be. He yanked her thigh up, notching himself at her entrance, slicking his head with her arousal, ready to slide home.
"Wait," she said with a gasp, tearing her mouth from his and pushing against his shoulder.
"What?" he said, breathing heavily as he dragged his brain back from the brink. "Are you okay?"
Shit.
Of course.
He was already moving as she said it. "Condoms."
Motherfucker. Had he really come that close to losing his mind? He'd never gone bare. Not once. He looked around the room, seeing it for the first time - the white shelves lined with books, the reading bench in the window, all of it. "Where are they?"
"I-I... maybe downstairs?" She blinked up at him.
"What do you mean downstairs?"
"In my purse. On the porch."
On the porch. "Don't you have any up here? Under the bed? Bathroom?"
She shook her head, cheeks flaming. "If there are any up here, I wouldn't trust them."
Trace stared down at her. "You wouldn't trust them?" Was she joking? She didn't look like she was joking.
"It's been a while, okay?" She pushed on his shoulder again.