It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3)

by Shelly Alexander

  He pulled her into a kiss so deep, so sexy that she couldn’t think straight. And what was it she’d been saying about businesses to run and some such?

  When he trailed kisses down her neck she panted out, “You’re developing a bad habit of not letting me finish.”

  “I learned it from you.” He kept the trail of blazing hot kisses going. “We need to talk soon,” he murmured between suckles and licks. “About . . . that rec center.” He seemed to tense. “And about us.” His voice went a little hard. “And other things.” Then he resumed more nips and kisses along her jaw.

  Dang, she didn’t want to hear it yet if it was bad news. Which it almost surely was. The inn and gazebo were near completion, the inspections were lined up, the festival was this weekend, and Felix had been over several times with a camera crew to film footage of the renovations, which Talmadge planned to forward to the producer of a home show when the inn was finished. He’d made her be the spokesperson, walking Felix through the inn to showcase the remodel. It would put the spotlight on her instead of him and garner vacation business in the process.

  Brilliant.

  And almost over.

  He shifted and closed the small space between them. Just his closeness muddled her senses and scrambled her thoughts. He smoothed the back of his fingers across her cheek. Heat rushed through her veins to pool low in her belly.

  And yes! The purple of his irises deepened.

  “I don’t want to talk, Talmadge. Not right now.” Maybe never if it meant she didn’t have to hear him say it was over.

  “I lose sight of everything when I’m with you, Miranda.” His heavy breaths washed over her skin.

  “Me too.” There went that croaking sound again. “I mean, we both probably need to refocus, and—”

  And then his lips were on hers, masterfully shutting her the hell up. She couldn’t really complain because his technique was so good. His taste wasn’t at all bad either. Neither were his roughened hands finding their way inside her jacket to her sweater, then caressing up her back and around to her breasts.

  A purr of approval and appreciation escaped from somewhere deep inside her and he deepened the kiss. Tugged her close and dropped a hand way south of the border, pulling her against his granite body. So hard. So hot.

  So mine.

  She slid her arms around his neck, and one set of fingers speared into his hair. Good God she loved his hair. It was so thick and soft and perfect and who cared about talking at the moment? A thick fog of lust swirled inside her brain, pushing every sensible thought out about paint colors and reputations and different states and indefinite separations because of work. There was nothing more important right now than him and her and this wonderful, dangerous, unstoppable chemistry that churned the air around them and made her palms all sweaty and her ears ring.

  An urgent need thrummed through her. A need to have him. A need to forget even just for a little while that their futures weren’t on the same path.

  He eased her back toward the staircase.

  “Langston and Jamie are here.” She broke the kiss, her voice all breathy, only to reclaim his mouth again with a desperation that made him chuckle.

  He nuzzled her neck, still moving to the stairs in small, easy steps. “They’re busy. I told them to go to Joe’s when they’re ready for a break. It’s on me. Neither one of them will turn down a free meal.”

  Clever man.

  When his heated breaths whispered across her ear, a shudder of pleasure so violent it could probably register on the Richter scale lanced through her. He let out a low, husky laugh and pulled her earlobe between his teeth to nibble.

  Her head tilted back, giving him better access, which he took full advantage of. “Ah,” she gasped out, the sound coupled with a moan when his mouth found the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. “Let’s go to my suite.” Her words came as quick pants. “It’s more private.”

  “Good idea.” He changed course and backed her toward the hallway. “Because if you moan like that again, I’ll have to have you right here against the wall.”

  Good Lord. Talmadge doing her like that was the most exciting thing she’d ever heard.

  She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and towed him into her suite, slammed the door, and jumped on him in the den before he could protest. Not that she thought he would.

  With a desperation she’d never felt before, she yanked his black knit shirt up, but he flinched at the pain. “Oh, sorry!” She tried to back away, but he grabbed her around the waist.

  “Don’t be. It’s much better. Only hurts when I raise it over my head at a certain angle.” He tugged her against him again. “Stay right there.” His gaze locked with hers, he reached behind his neck and drew the shirt over his head, one-handed, then pulled it off.

  She let her gaze wander over his broad, bare chest. His skin under her fingertips caused a shudder to roll through her. Flattening her palms against him, she ran both hands over the silky skin that covered the hardened muscles underneath. He eased a hand behind her neck and pulled her in until his mouth hovered just above hers. His breath was warm against her cheeks, his hunger apparent in his darkening eyes, and Miranda’s need spiked.

  “Kiss me,” she said in a frustrated whisper against his mouth. He did. His mouth consuming her.

  At that moment she was so glad Talmadge had been her one and only. It was right. And so true.

  She trailed hot, urgent kisses down his neck and across his chest. He sucked in a breath and held it. When she placed her lips in the valley between his pecs, he growled. A flood of satisfaction shimmied through her.

  With the tip of her tongue she traced a line to one of his nipples and nipped. He hissed and threaded a hand into her hair.

  “Do you want me to stop?” she asked and nipped at the pebbled circle again.

  “Hell no.” He ground out his words.

  She covered the peak with her mouth and suckled.

  His other hand slid under her sweater and found her aching breast. “Fuck.”

  “Okay.” She giggled. “Just hot, hard sex.”

  “Jesus, Miranda.” His hand still fisted into her long hair, he pulled her mouth to his and kissed her hard, his breaths fast and shallow.

  One of her hands slid down his ripped torso to the front of his jeans. She swallowed hard, and her breathing grew shaky. When his kiss grew almost punishing with desire, her courage swelled. Her hand glided over the rough denim fabric of his jeans, and she cupped him in her hand and massaged.

  Lord, but he was huge. And he was all hers, at least for now. He’d promised to stay until the inn was open and the gazebo was done, so she planned to make the best of it while it lasted. Then maybe the demands of running a business would fill the void. Or at least keep her mind off of loving a man who lived somewhere distant.

  When she slid a warm palm down his length and up again, he growled. He inserted his fingers into her waistband and unbuttoned her jeans with a flick of his thumb. The zipper whizzed as it went down. She kicked her shoes off and grabbed his hand, backing toward her bedroom.

  He shook his head, a piercing gleam shimmering in his eyes. He tugged her against him again. “There’s a difference between making love and hot, hard sex.” He kissed her, angling her head with his heated palm at the back of her neck. “I promise you’ll like both.” He slid both palms around to her lower back, wedged his fingers under her jeans and panties, and guided them down.

  Miranda shuddered, her heart thundering against the inside of her ribs. “How do you know I’ll like both?” She kicked out of her jeans and pushed them aside with a toe.

  He smiled down at her, a languid, playful grin on his lush mouth. “Because you’re going to tell me what you like and don’t like.”

  The spot between her thighs turned to fire.

  He eased a thigh between her legs, and the rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against her already wet center. He hooked one hand behind her knee and pulled her leg up over his musc
led thigh. Miranda’s eyes flew wide and she looked up into his lust-glazed eyes. Desire blazed like an inferno in the purplish irises. His husky gaze licked over her flesh, down her neck, then anchored to her lips as his other hand found the tender contours between her thighs.

  He smoothed two fingertips along her folds, tremors rippling through her as his work-roughened touch grazed over her heated flesh.

  “Baby, you’re so wet already.” His voice was an urgent whisper, and he brushed his lips across hers. He slid the tips of two fingers inside her.

  Her head tilted back at the mind-altering ecstasy of his touch.

  “You seem to like that,” he whispered against her neck. “But I want to hear you say it.”

  “Yes,” she panted out. “I like it.”

  “And how about this?” He buried both fingers inside her.

  The heat at her center exploded into a fireball that singed every nerve ending in her body. She cried out and arched into him, clinging to the last threads of control. He smiled against her neck again. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes!” Good God, yes.

  “And this?” When his fingers left her, she groaned her disapproval.

  “No? Then let’s try this.” He buried his fingers in her again and worked his palm against her pulsing nub.

  Her knees gave way.

  He caught her. “Hold on to me,” he whispered against her ear. She did, and he withdrew and slid into her again. “Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are?”

  Her eyes opened, and she took him in. His chiseled jaw, his strong neck, his arched golden brows, and his extraordinary eyes that changed colors to communicate his mood. Which at the moment said he was ravenously hungry for sex. Hot and hard sex.

  Fine by her.

  “Keep looking at me.” His gaze held her prisoner. Held her completely mesmerized. “Do you know how fucking insane you drive me every time I see you?” Another thrust of his fingers made her moan as a shiver raced over her and covered her skin with little bumps of pleasure. A sinful smile curved onto his exquisite mouth, and he repeated that wonderful motion again, making sure his palm worked its magic against her clit.

  Miranda’s brain went fuzzy. Him dropping the f-bomb while doing that very thing to her with his talented fingers was so sexy she was about to—

  “Talmadge!” she gasped as he buried his fingers deep inside her again and twitched them to massage the deepest part of her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and she splintered into tiny pieces as a fierce orgasm washed over his fingers.

  “Yes, baby.” His lips hovered a breath away from hers. “That’s it. I can feel you throbbing around me.” His thrusts slowed to gentle caresses, prolonging her orgasm. Kneading every ounce of it out of her. “You like that.”

  It wasn’t a question. Clearly she did. But she gave a frantic nod anyway and swallowed. As the convulsions around his fingers ebbed, he withdrew, and Miranda melted against him.

  He shook his head. “We’re not done yet.” It was a promise. She loved his promises, because he always kept them.

  “Let’s . . . let’s go to my bedroom.”

  “No.” He picked her up and set her against the wall, pinning her there. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, retrieving a foil square. He handed the condom to her before tossing his wallet onto the sofa. “You put it on.”

  “What?” She couldn’t possibly . . .

  “You wanted to know the difference between making love and fast, hard sex.” He held the square out to her. “Put it on for me.” The roughness of his voice made her insides tighten again.

  Without taking her eyes off of his, she took the square and raised it to her lips. Lust set his irises ablaze, and a long breath threaded through his tempting lips to smooth across her neck.

  A sharp rip sounded as she tore the square open with her teeth.

  She gulped most of the oxygen out of the room.

  He chuckled. “If you don’t like this . . . method, we can make love.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “You turn me on no matter what.”

  She pushed against his chest just enough for him to stop kissing her, and gave him a wicked smile. It was now or never. She wasn’t going to have too many more chances to experience this kind of sexual pleasure because Talmadge wouldn’t be around forever. She lowered her feet to the ground and unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down over his narrow hips. And discovered he was commando.

  Her gaze flew to his, and he arched a silky brow.

  Placing the condom over his generous flesh, she drew up her courage and rolled it on with long, slow strokes.

  His eyes slid shut. “Damn, Miranda.” His voice was husky, and his body quivered with strained self-control.

  No matter how many times she’d seen him naked, Gawd he looked good. Mouthwatering, lip-smacking, thigh-clenching good.

  “Does that mean you like it?” she asked, trying to sound coy and flirtatious. She did have the man’s family jewels in her hands.

  Instead of answering, he gave her a hard kiss. One that had her girl parts coiling even tighter. So she stroked along his length one more time.

  He growled in response. Then braced one hand under her ass and the other against the wall next to her head. He dipped his knees and came up inside her with one thrust.

  She cried out and wrapped her legs and arms around him tighter. Her head fell back heavy against the wall, and her eyes shut.

  “Open your eyes and look at me,” Talmadge commanded.

  She did, and he pinned her gaze with his. A gaze that promised exquisite pleasures and wild, wicked sensations. No, this wasn’t the same as making love. It was raw desire. Unbridled passion. Hot and hard sex. She saw it in his lusty stare just as much as she felt it in her quivering body.

  But she also saw something else that matched the deep well of emotion that was building in her heart for him. He cared about her. Maybe they could find a way . . .

  She swallowed. “You know, taking orders from you has gotten infinitely more enjoyable than it was at first,” she panted out.

  His mouth came down on hers, and she couldn’t think beyond what was happening right then. He thrust inside of her hard and fast, the pictures on the walls banging with each unyielding stroke. And all the while, he stared down into her eyes like he could see into her soul.

  Her body responded to him, molding and unfurling around him until she was on the brink again. He must have seen it in her eyes, because he buried his face in her hair and said her name.

  “Miranda.” It came out like a whisper, each syllable entwined with emotion, and he kept driving into her.

  It pushed her over the edge into oblivion, and she fell into the abyss with a shout of pleasure. He followed her, pulsing inside of her.

  He kept her pinned against the wall for what seemed a long time. Their hearts beat against each other, their breathing slowly returning to a normal rhythm. The sheer, raw desire that had just swirled around them threaded through every muscle in her body, making her limp and satisfied. It was potent and powerful, and Miranda would never forget it. She melded with him and wrapped her arms around his head.

  With tenderness that didn’t match the sex they’d just experienced, his lips feathered up her neck to her mouth and he gave her a soft, affectionate kiss.

  “See the difference?” he asked, then gave her another lazy kiss.

  “Oh, yeah.” Her voice was raspy like she’d just run a marathon. “I can see how both methods serve a valuable purpose.”

  He chuckled.

  “I didn’t even get all my clothes off.” She looked down at her rumpled top, now damp from working up a passionate sweat.

  “Uh-huh.” He nipped at her bottom lip, then slid out of her.

  She gasped, already missing the sensation of him being inside of her.

  “That’s the point. It’s unpredictable and you just go with it.” He lowered her to the ground.

  She tried to push him away so she could get to her pants, bu
t he held her in place. “I’m game to try the other method.” Naughtiness gleamed in his eyes. “So you can compare.”

  She pulled a lip between her teeth, which made desire flare in his eyes again. “I’m in.”

  With a dip of his head in agreement, he had her top and bra off in a nanosecond and swooped her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom.

  She rested her cheek against his shoulder and breathed his manly scent in—soap mingled with the dewy sweat he’d just worked up. A scent she had gotten used to.

  A scent she wanted to enjoy forever.

  Chapter Twenty

  Miranda stood on the announcer’s stand at the edge of Brandenburg Park for the festival run-through and tried not to think about the inspectors who were at the inn at that very moment deciding if she could finally launch her dream and fly. She also tried hard not to think about the conversation Talmadge kept trying to have with her. She could guess what was coming. Knew he was either going to end it or suggest a long-distance relationship that wouldn’t last, because how could it?

  She ran a finger down the list of parade entries on her clipboard.

  Less than most years, but enough to put on a decent parade.

  Every restaurant, café, ice cream shop, and bakery in Red River was busy decorating booths along the edges of the park. Artists from all over the Southwest would display and sell their work. Several wineries and breweries around the state had reserved booths and were getting their spaces ready.

  Up and down Main Street red-white-and-blue pleated flags were going up, windows were being spit-shined, and shop owners were gearing up for the influx of vacationers who would flood in for the festival that kicked off the summer tourist season.