When she reached for his shirt, he stepped back out of her reach. “Let me look at you.”
She grinned at him, her teeth white in the moonlight. She wrapped the scarf around her neck, allowing the long edges to fall across her breasts, not so much hiding them but providing a delicious contrast of dark silk over pale skin. “What do you see?”
“Secret shadows. Enticing curves. Legs long enough to wrap around my waist.”
“Now that’s an image to stick in my mind.” She reached for him, again. “Now, it’s my turn to undress you.” She stepped close enough for him to get a whiff of the clean scent of her hair.
“Not yet,” he insisted.
“What do you mean, not yet?”
“I said you could undress me. I didn’t say when.”
She gasped, then for a long, tense moment, she remained completely silent. “You want me to ride naked while you remain clothed?” She tilted her head. “Why?”
At least she hadn’t just blurted no. She had enough control to ask for his reasons, and he admired that she could keep so much dignity when she stood there so vulnerably naked on his island.
In return, he was honest. “I don’t want to forget myself, and take you too soon,” he admitted.
She shook her head. “No dice, cowboy. I won’t do naked alone.”
She wouldn’t give him any slack. So they would be riding skin to skin. At the thought, his forehead beaded with perspiration.
She didn’t wait for him to agree. She simply reached up and unbuttoned his shirt. Slowly. She made a big deal of fingering each button, of easing back the material, of skimming her fingers over his bared chest.
And all the heat from their kiss flooded back until he wondered if he was going to be able to mount the horse without doing permanent damage. She reached for his slacks, unbuttoned and unzipped. “And now I learn whether you prefer boxers or briefs or… Nice assets.” She grinned. “Nothing at all, huh?”
Before she could touch him and make mounting the horse even more difficult, he stepped away.
“Now, who’s in a hurry?” she teased, eyeing him with appreciation that made him glad he’d gone to the trouble of bringing her here. On the island, he could more easily be himself and give up the pretense of being Grey. The island might belong to his brother, but lately Zane had visited more often, making this his retreat from loud parties and mindless chatter.
Samson bobbed his head up and down and pawed the ground. Zane scratched him behind the ear to calm him.
Zane loved this island. Here, he would feel free to express himself with actions and show her how good the sex could be. She’d stirred his blood to a fever pitch by merely taking off her dress. But it wasn’t just her body that had him eager and ready to show her a good time. He appreciated her attitude. She didn’t play shy or coy games and made no bones about finding him attractive. He liked her spirit. Especially when she glanced from Samson to him, cocked her hip and teased, “I suppose Samson is impatient?”
“He hasn’t been ridden in a while,” he agreed, wondering if he should take her into his arms and forget the romantic moonlight ride. But he’d promised her a scandal….
And the thought of riding with her spurred him on. He placed his foot into the stirrup and swung onto the saddle pad, then carefully eased himself into a sitting position.
He held out a hand to her. “Ready?”
7
TONI HAD NEVER BEEN LESS ready in her life. Nevertheless, after Grey freed his foot from the stirrup, she put hers there. They joined hands and his strong boost propelled her upward, and then she placed her leg over the saddle pad in front of him, careful not to kick him or the horse.
He’d previously adjusted the stirrups to fit his long legs, and after she settled between his hard thighs, her bare feet dangled free. She’d never felt so bold and reckless and vulnerable at the same time. His hard thighs around hers gave her a heady feeling and his jutting sex nestled in the curve of her bottom reminded her that she was probably in for the ride of her life. He placed one hand around her exposed waist to steady her, and she suddenly realized how completely he had access to her. All of her. Even while wearing the scarf, Grey could play with her breasts. Without any other clothing, with her thighs straddling the horse’s back, Grey could touch her most intimate places.
Which was what she wanted.
So naturally, he paid no attention to her state of undress. Damn him.
He simply nudged Samson into a walk, finding a path through the pine trees. Without a bra, her breasts swayed deliciously free. Her scarf fluttered, tickling and teasing her skin. His powerful arm against her tummy seemed so close to going where she wanted him to go and yet so far.
Toni squirmed her bottom against his hardness, trying to turn him on so much he’d stop teasing her. But Grey had remarkable self-control.
The silver sheen of moonlight glinted out of the night sky, casting a spectrum of gray and black shadows and lending the seaside wildness a delicate air of limbo. They rode the path between scattered willows and live oak that grew horizontally. Beyond the numerous trees were cattails waving in the gentle breeze.
Since landing on the island, Toni had yet to spy the Gulf of Mexico, but she breathed in the salty tang from the sea breeze along with the smell of horse and the faint masculine aroma that Grey alone possessed. Her body tingled every time his bare chest rocked against her back, reminding her that she wore only skin and her filmy scarf.
A snowy egret soared overhead. When she tilted her head to watch the bird’s magnificent flight, Grey leaned forward and nipped her earlobe, his earthy breath fanning across her neck. She shivered with delicious anticipation.
“Cold?”
She shook her head. “I feel scandalous.”
“Scandalous good? Or scandalous bad?”
“That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“On what happens next.”
“Have I let you down yet?”
“You haven’t done anything yet,” she reminded him, not bothering to hide her complaint, nudging her bottom against his erection.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve got you on my private island, captured between my thighs, wearing no more than a scarf. Any regrets, so far?”
Rubbing against him hadn’t aroused him enough to stop teasing her. Perhaps her words might. “You haven’t touched me yet—not intimately.”
The erotic motion of the horse combined with his chest rubbing against her back made it almost impossible for her to think of anything besides making love. She recalled how hot he’d made her in the restaurant and how he’d pulled back. And now, if possible, she was even more eager for him. Despite her new and unusual surroundings, she couldn’t stop thinking about when he was going to touch her, where he was going to touch her, and how he was going to touch her.
“I regret that, too. But I’m taking my time.”
His soft words made her mouth go dry. He sounded so cocksure, so controlled, that a tremor of jittery expectation and apprehension flowed through her.
“So, we’re going to enjoy the ride, see where we end up?” She drew in air and let it out slowly to calm her skittish nerves. “How long before Samson gets tired?”
Grey chuckled. “He’ll outlast both of us.”
He spoke with the certainty of experience. She supposed it would be unreasonable to assume that he’d never brought a woman here and ridden double on Samson. She turned and glanced up at his face. In the moonlight, he looked taller, his shoulders broader, his face harsher. Just a tad unsure of herself, but determined to follow through with her line of thought, she observed him closely to see if he’d try to evade her next question. “You’ve done this before?”
“Not with you.”
His direct response without the slightest bit of hesitation heartened her and shot a shiver of anticipation straight to her core. That she wanted to make love to this man, she could not deny. She’d made that decision long before she’d agreed to fly to t
he island with him, before she’d taken off her clothes, before she’d agreed to follow his lead. Any man who could arouse her to this level of excitement wouldn’t disappoint her. She’d been ready to make changes in her life, to allow more time for passion. And now that her goal was so close to being reached, she would never forgive herself if she didn’t go for it.
As he skimmed his fingers from her tummy along her rib cage and under her breasts, her thoughts centered on the moment. She was riding a horse with her lover in the moonlight, without clothing, with his hard thighs wrapped intimately around her. The setting couldn’t have been more perfect. He couldn’t have been more perfect.
Her breasts responded immediately to his touch, aching, surging, her nipples hardening. She found herself holding her breath and had to remember to breathe. His fingers applied no more pressure than a feather, dusting lightly and leisurely and causing tiny goose bumps to break out on her skin.
“Actually, I haven’t been out here in years.” Casually, he tweaked a nipple. She gasped with pleasure and allowed her hands to drift to his thighs to steady herself. He chuckled and gifted her other nipple with the same treatment. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”
She dug her fingers into strong thighs corded with muscles and swirled with fine soft hair and wished she could reach more of him. “I feel decadent.”
“What else?”
“Wanted.”
He cupped both breasts and continued to tease her nipples. “Oh, I’m wanting you all right.”
Samson kept walking, apparently not needing much guidance from his rider to follow the well-worn trail. And she found her hips rocking with the horse’s pace, creating a tightening deep in her belly, and she hoped her rhythmic movements would cause him to lose some of his delicious control.
He pinched her nipple just slightly harder, rolling the tip between thumb and forefinger. “Toni, to me, this is pure heaven.”
She let out a soft moan. “You can’t keep doing that to me.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” She squirmed.
He placed the reins on his thigh. Samson stuck to the trail so Grey had free use of both hands, and he held on to her by her nipples, plucking and tugging even harder. “Because why?”
All of the sensation in her body seemed to have centered in her aching breasts and between her legs. Her squirming against him had only served to increase the heat. And he seemed in no more of a rush than he had before.
“It’s hard to describe.”
“Try.” He massaged her nipples with his palms, coaxing her, teasing her.
“My stomach is fluttering. Every muscle is tight. Tense. Sensitive. Ready to explode with just the slightest encouragement. Only…”
“Only what?”
“You aren’t going to make me come, are you?”
She already knew that he could keep up his arousing caresses for far longer than she could stand to wait. And yet, she had to admit, while he took his time exploring, she was having a very good time, enjoying his soft taunting challenge and noting that each sensation was almost like a direct dare to grab the pleasure that was within her reach.
She tipped back her head and turned. When he bent close, she nipped his neck, then whispered into his ear. “Take me now, Grey.”
“You’re going to explode,” he promised, his voice as smooth as satin. “Just not yet.”
He removed his hands from her, and she took the moment to recover. However, her nipples remained hard and more sensitive than she’d known was possible.
Without warning, he snatched her scarf, then rearranged the material so that the glass beads along the edge dangled directly over her nipples. The crystals, heavy and shaped like diamonds, slapped, pinched and teased.
The jewelry was cold and hard, yet exhilarating, as if dozens of tiny fingertips toyed with her sensitive skin.
“What a perfect accessory. Now your breasts won’t feel neglected when my hands move on to explore the rest of you.” He chuckled.
Already tight, and oh-so-responsive, her nipples were so erect that she hadn’t thought they could jut out any farther. But thanks to Grey’s rearrangement, the beads had her taut and swollen, stirring a deep ache for more of his touch.
“I don’t know if I can stand—”
“You in any pain?”
“Of course not. But—”
“Then you can stand it,” he said so simply that she would have gotten angry—except what he had done to her felt so damn good.
And he had promised to use his hands on the rest of her. Never had she needed a man to touch her damp folds like she did right now. Never had she wanted so much to urge a man to hurry. But the horse’s rocking movement combined with the night air on her bare skin and the dangling scarf and beads had drawn her into one edgy ball of need. She was wet, slick between her thighs, open and ready for him.
He was nibbling her neck, his tongue caressing the delicate shell of her ear. Maybe if she knew how long she would have to hold out, the waiting would be easier.
“Grey?”
“Hmm.”
“How long is this going to take?”
“As long as it takes.”
She groaned at his non-answer and bit her lower lip to keep from whining. After all, she had absolutely no right to complain. She had stalked him from the start, and he’d explained his intentions up-front, then given her every opportunity to change her mind. She would attempt to hold back her impatience. She just hadn’t foreseen how exceedingly difficult slowing the pace would be.
He’d picked up the reins and steered Samson toward the left fork in the path, past reeds and tall grasses. Then they suddenly broke out of the trees onto a silver ribbon of beach. Waves gently lapped the shoreline and the moonlight glinted on the rippling sea.
He dropped one hand and teased his fingers up the inside of her thigh. “Did you know some theories about bird migrations go back thousands of years?”
“Really?” The only migration she was currently interested in was the migration she hoped his hand would make to the place that strained for his touch.
“Primitive peoples believed birds flew to the moon for the off-season.”
“Uh-huh.” He’d settled the reins on his thigh, allowing Samson to make his own path down the shoreline. And while Grey repeatedly caressed her sensitive inner thighs, she tried to hold back a demand for him to hurry, but the exquisite sensations of his hands and the tantalizing massage of her breasts from the dangling beads made sitting still almost impossible.
“Aristotle believed that one kind of bird transmuted into another.”
“Too bad Samson here can’t transmute himself into a bed,” she muttered.
He ignored her, but dipped his long fingers into her curls, sifting and combing, exploring every single centimeter of sensitive flesh. “And the most popular ancient theory held that birds, like bears, hibernated for the winter.”
“Please, no more about birds…unless you want to talk about the birds and the bees.”
He chuckled. “Distracted?”
“Impatient.”
“For what?”
“Chocolate,” she replied with sarcasm to prevent herself from begging.
He traced the very tip of her outer lip with his index finger, opening her sex, his caress so soft and subtle that she felt tense and jumpy…and cherished.
“If you’re thinking about sweets, then I’m not doing my job properly. Perhaps we should start over.” He withdrew his hands.
“What?”
He traced the line of her shoulder with his jaw. “I could take it from the top and work my way down again.”
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. But he had already withdrawn his hands. And he was snacking on her shoulder as if he was a tiger lapping up a treat of sweetened milk. Damn him, he was beginning his seduction all over.
Damn. Damn. Damn. She wouldn’t be this impatient if she didn’t want him so much. She was already so sensitive. So ready. And if he wasn�
��t going to pleasure her, she saw no reason not to please herself. She released her grip on his thigh, fully tending to ease her own need.
“Don’t.” As if anticipating her move, he nipped her shoulder, not painfully hard but certainly enough to gain her full attention.
For the moment, she moved her hand back to his thigh. “Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Because I want to give you that pleasure.”
“Well, then, by all means, don’t let me deny you. Go ahead.”
“I plan to.”
Just not yet. The slightest stroke, just the tiniest pressure on her clit would be enough to send her over the edge. She knew it. Apparently, so did he.
“I really wasn’t thinking about food, you know,” she backtracked.
“Uh-huh.” He nuzzled her neck, and her breasts ached, her entire body thrummed with need.
“I just didn’t want—”
He played with the tips of her nipples and she wondered if she might come from those exquisite sensations.
“Didn’t want what?” he prodded.
“—to admit how much I need your touch. Can’t you go back to what you were doing?”
“You mean kissing your neck?” he teased.
“Damn you.”
“I thought you understood that—”
“I didn’t know waiting could be this hard. Don’t you want to make love?” She leaned back and felt his erection press against her bottom. When she’d removed his pants, she’d gotten an impression of massive size, a hearty width and an enticingly musky scent. Now, from the feel of him nudging her, he seemed even larger. Apparently his toying with her had left him stoked…and yet he held back.
“We’re going to make love,” he promised.
Just not yet, he would tell her again if she tried to rush him. She gritted her teeth as his hands once again cupped her breasts, leisurely, lightly, lovingly.
“I’m doing you a favor,” he told her, quite certain of himself.
“And I’m going to reciprocate this favor,” she promised, her words ending on a gasp as he nudged Samson into a trot. A pace so different from the easy walk that it took several moments to adjust to the bouncing. While the horse trotted on, seemingly un-caring of the antics of his riders, Grey reached between her open thighs and cupped her with one hand, delving his fingers inside and around her lips, sliding into her wet heat with every bounce Samson took.
Double the Thrill Page 10