“Give it more gas.”
The truck shot forward. Gracie’s head snapped back to bounce against the headrest. She squeaked in surprise and immediately slammed on the brakes. Next to her, Murphy scrambled for purchase on the worn vinyl of the bench seat. Jake flung out an arm to keep the dog from sliding to the floor, bracing himself against the dashboard with the other. The vehicle bucked and rocked. The motor coughed and died.
She cringed. “Sorry. My fault. I forgot to use the clutch, damn it.” Grumbling beneath her breath, she pushed in the clutch, pumped the gas pedal, and twisted the key. The motor roared to life once again. With her tongue tucked between her teeth, she feathered the pedals in a delicate balance. The truck rolled forward as smoothly as if she’d been driving for years.
According to his earlier instruction, she built speed then performed a seamless shift into second gear. She gripped the steering wheel, maneuvering the truck over the large area of open ground behind the house, and rounded the barn. Rutted and muddy with the melting snow, the barnyard’s uneven surface required complete concentration, but soon the bouncing truck smoothed out as they approached the entrance to the narrow track leading toward the gate at the back of the property.
“Now?”
“If you think you’re ready.”
Her craven side was definitely ready, but what woman could simply go on with life as if nothing had changed once she decided to let the sexiest man she’d ever met seduce her? A much better woman than her, that was for sure. Without waiting for further consent, she turned the truck onto the single lane trail.
“I was ready half an hour ago.”
He chuckled but made no comment. The house and other farm dwellings soon disappeared from her rearview mirror. She slowed to round a curve then sped up once more along a straightaway. Winter sunlight filtered easily through the leafless trees and she smiled wryly. What a difference twelve hours made. Another thing she’d never admit was how spooked she’d been hurrying through the dark and cold last night. This morning, the spooky shadows had been erased by bright sunlight and sweet imaginings of what would happen between her and the man at her side, as soon as she said the word.
The guest cottage left to Mary in Pete’s will came into view—the fully furnished, including a queen-sized bed, empty of guests at the moment, guest cottage.
She shook her head, attempting to refocus on her driving. The helpless lust simmering aside, she was having a ball. Why hadn’t she learned to drive years ago? He was right. Slipping behind the wheel was pure joy.
“Watch your speed. Trees are a lot less forgiving than a wooden fence.”
She shot him a toothy grin. “Relax, Malone. It’s a simple matter of picking your route and showing no fear.”
The deep rumble of his male laughter filled the cab and set her girl parts to tingling. Oh, God. She wished he wouldn’t do that. Smashing into one of those unforgiving trees wasn’t how she wanted their time alone to end this morning. The question was, how did she want this morning to end?
A slightly naughty and extremely delicious picture formed, and she bit back a groan. She’d told Jake she’d let him know once she’d given the other some thought, but the truth was, she couldn’t stop thinking of the pleasures awaiting them. If she acted too fast, he’d think her easy. Hell, who was she kidding? She was more than easy, she was a sure thing. Knowing Jake in the biblical sense was a matter of when, not if, and the knowing sparkle in his eyes said he was fully aware of his pending victory.
Sheer stubbornness and a need to prove she still held the reins of her willpower were the only reasons they were bumping along a dirt road and not curled together on a makeshift bed, resting up for another round of garage paradise.
Her heartbeat increased as they approached the turnoff to the cottage. She bit her bottom lip. Controlling the willpower reins was difficult with sweaty palms. Her gaze roamed over the charming, two-bedroom bungalow. Mary had yet to move in, now the old foreman’s quarters were hers. Remodeled by Sarah after she and Pete married, the cottage had housed his out of town associates when they visited. To Gracie’s knowledge, no guests had visited since Sarah’s death, but Mary continued the practice of keeping the cottage in readiness.
The reins slipped dangerously close to being ripped from her fingers.
Maybe she was rationalizing, grasping at a convenient opportunity to take a step she desperately wanted to take, but who knew when she and Jake would find themselves truly alone again, without the girls or Mary around? The air shuddered in her lungs when she dragged in a desperate gulp of oxygen. If she was going to do this crazy thing, now was the time.
She glanced over at his strong profile, slammed on the brakes, and twisted the key.
The truck skidded to a halt at the entrance to the cabin. Murphy tumbled to the baseboard at Jake’s feet.
Jake met her nervous gaze with a questioning lift of his brow. “What are we doing?”
She blew out a shuddering breath and embraced crazy. “I’m done thinking.”
* * * *
Jake eyed the guesthouse for a long moment then slowly turned his head. Gracie lifted her chin defiantly, as if she expected an argument. Right. He needed no explanation or qualification for why she stopped the truck at the steps of the small cabin. She’d said she needed time to think. Apparently, she was done.
Hell, yeah. A quick-thinking woman was a beautiful thing.
Gripping her shoulders, he dragged her across the bench seat and onto his lap. Her eyes went wide, but she didn’t protest when he lowered his head to capture her mouth with his. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave as good as she got.
Blindly searching for the latch at his back, he swung open the door. He held her to his chest as he stumbled into the cool morning air. Beneath the canopy of leafless trees, patches of icy snow spotted the shadowed ground. Unwilling to take the chance she’d change her mind, he gave her no opportunity to speak. He peppered her mouth with greedy kisses as he slipped and slid toward the steps leading to the cottage.
Murphy darted back and forth around his legs, making the crossing more treacherous. Jake lurched to one side on the uneven ground and almost went down. He caught himself at the last moment. To his surprise, instead of demanding he put her down before he dropped her, Gracie wrapped her long legs around his waist. Feminine desire flashed in her eyes. She palmed his cheeks with both hands, pulling his head down until she could kiss him back. He staggered to a stop. The hot pleasure of her tongue tangling with his nearly made his head blow off.
Murphy barked, reminding him where they were. He climbed the two steps to the porch and released her mouth. “Is there a key?”
On a breathless shudder, she jerked her head toward the top of the door. “Right top corner of the doorframe.”
He ran his fingers along the top of the door. Shoving the key into the lock, he twisted. The door swung open without a sound and he carried her inside. With his mouth fused to hers, he kicked out blindly. The crash of the cottage door slamming shut behind them pierced the quiet like a gunshot. Murphy slammed up against one knee in his mad scramble to squeeze past.
Thrown off balance, Jake’s shoulder collided with the corner of a cabinet beside the door. The glassware on the shelves tinkled. He tightened his arms around her, planting his feet to keep from toppling over. Crashing to his ass and bringing her with him wouldn’t surprise him, considering where he’d landed every other time he kissed her.
Fuck that. Not this time.
He crushed her close, from mouth to knees, and thrilled when she pressed closer, as if trying to sink into his skin. Every ligament and muscle contracted in fevered anticipation. He answered her unspoken demand by doing some sinking of his own. He plunged his tongue deep. Her mint and musk scent wafted through his nostrils and her tangy sweetness exploded on his taste buds.
Heartbeat thundering, he struggled against the surprisingly potent urge to bypass the usual foreplay, shooting st
raight to the mind-blowing moment when he’d press inside her and make her his. He battled against the unprecedented need to forego the scintillating touches and caresses and the mouthwatering tastes he’d anticipated in each and every hot fantasy over the last few days. As if ancient instincts drove him, his body sizzled with molten fire, demanding he claim immediate victory by dragging her to the floor for a hard and fast, no frills mating.
The way his cock throbbed, resisting those instincts was downright painful, but the fantasy images running through his mind since first laying eyes on the prickly princess were impossible to forget, or ignore. He wanted to whisper his sensual intentions in her ear before playing out each and every imagining, then he wanted to try a few more.
Ego demanded this first time together last more than the time it took to roll on a condom, but unless he got control of himself, he wouldn’t last even that long. He needed to slow things down. They both needed to slow down.
Her lips chased his when he broke the kiss and lifted his head. She squirmed in his arms. Her body rubbing against his was nearly his undoing. He shut his eyes, savoring the incredible friction of her soft curves sliding along his hard plains. Teasing fingers of pleasure walked their way up his spine.
Lord have mercy.
“Gracie.”
Lush lashes fluttered open to reveal fathomless pools of passion. She blinked and a wrinkle suddenly puckered the skin between her delicate brows. “Please, tell me you have a condom in your pocket.”
The huskiness of her voice caressed his ego and the band of urgent tension squeezing his chest eased. He threw back his head and laughed. An embarrassed flush deepened the blush on her cheeks, but a wry smile grew.
He shook his head and grinned. “I’m covered.”
Horror bloomed in her eyes. She arched back in his arms, enough to shoot a quick glance down at his crotch, then her amazing eyes lifted to his, narrowing in an accusing frown.
He chuckled, tucking her up against his chest when she unwrapped her legs from his waist and attempted to shove out of his arms. “I’m not wearing one, if that’s what you’re thinking. That was a figure of speech. I’ve got several in my pocket.”
“Oh.” Her body softened against his and her frown evaporated, replaced by telling relief. She blew out a sigh. “Well, then. Okay. Wait!” The frown returned. “Then why did you stop?”
“Because I’d rather lay you down in a warm, comfortable bed than on a cold tile floor.”
She fidgeted within his embrace. In embarrassment or excitement? From the way she’d been wrapped around him, his money was on the latter. He didn’t have to worry about the princess changing her mind. Not now anyway. She was as caught up in the urgency as he. As for later….
She shot him a teasing smile from beneath lowered lashes. “That tile does look cold.”
He smiled.
“And hard.”
His smile slid toward a pained grimace. “Speaking of hard.”
Her teeth flashed in a grin. “Poor baby. There’s a bed in the next room. Right behind you.”
She laughed when he immediately spun around and headed for the open door of the bedroom. Murphy bumped his knee in his race to get there first.
“I don’t think so, mutt.”
Using one booted foot, he blocked the dog and quickly shut the door in his face. Gracie’s low laugh made his balls contract painfully. He crossed the room in three long strides, which only increased her humor, but if he was in a hurry, she was too. She slid one hand under the hem of his sweatshirt and open jacket. His stomach muscles quivered beneath her questing fingers. Cool and searching, they roamed over his stomach to his chest, pressing, kneading, caressing.
Her palm skimmed upward until she cupped the ball of his shoulder. His sweater rode her wrist, baring his chest to her view. She dipped her head and pressed her open mouth to a tightened nipple.
On an anguished moan of pleasure, he tumbled them onto the queen-sized bed.
Chapter 19
The world tilted wildly. Gracie clung to Jake, tightening her arm around his neck and wrapping her other around his waist. Her surprised squeak joined his growled moan and ended on a breathy oof. Arms and legs tangled, they bounced once before settling on the patchwork quilt. Sprawled over him on the antique brass bed, she had no opportunity to enjoy her perch. He immediately rolled, reversing their positions to lean over her.
Behind him, soft rays of sunlight fell through the window. Cast in semi-shadow, the fiery red halo framing his broad shoulders and wild mane of black hair reminded her of the demonic qualities she’d assigned him earlier. A devil with sensual intent sparkling in his emerald eyes.
He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone, watching her intently. “Your eyes are incredible, princess. Damn. I could drown in them.”
Flustered, she wasn’t sure how to respond. The unusual eye color she inherited from her mother had always drawn its share of attention, from the taunts of the kids in school, to the time she was harassed outside a west side gallery by a pushy photographer insisting she model for him. That wasn’t to say the soft violet hue hadn’t received its share of praises, especially from men, but never in a lazy Texas drawl capable of stroking her soul.
Hot excitement flashed through her as he slid his muscled thigh between hers, and whoa! He wasn’t kidding about hard. A large, rigid length pressed against her hip. Her girl parts immediately puddled with anticipation, and she thrilled when he bent to kiss her long and hard.
As his mouth performed an exhilarating, carnal mating of hers, employing lips, teeth and tongue, his hands roamed in a sensory exploration, rubbing, plucking, caressing, and squeezing. Layers of clothing were magically swept aside. Off came her jacket. He flicked an arm over his head, and her black and white check wool blazer flew through the air to land on the floor in the corner. Several long moments later, he released her mouth long enough to tug the sweater over her head. It joined the blazer on a high-arching toss.
Rising on one elbow, he hung over her. Hot passion glazed his eyes and his chest rose and fell on ragged breaths. Elation skittered up her spine as her ego twirled in a mental happy dance. She’d done that to him. How lovely knowing she wasn’t the only one about to go up in flames.
She blinked when he continued to watch her in silence. Suddenly jittery at the interruption, doubt crept in. Why had he stopped? She frowned. “What?”
He brushed a curl back from her temple. “I was just thinking.”
“About?”
Dimples made an appearance in his slow smile. “This is the first time I’ve kissed you and didn’t end up with a bruise.”
A helpless laugh gurgled in her throat. And he called her a smart ass? Relief made her giddy. A man who could make a woman laugh was impossible to resist, but how the hell could he make jokes when she was about to combust? She grinned. “The morning’s still early, funny guy.” She shoved at his shoulders.
Laughing, he let her push him until he lay sprawled on his back. She happily crawled on top and swung her leg over to cradle his hips with her knees. He gripped her waist with both hands. Lowering herself to sit, she met his laughing gaze with a smirk—a difficult task considering her eyes wanted to cross.
His groan nearly drowned out hers. Instant bolts of electric heat shot out from the point of delicious contact, sizzling in her lower torso and turning the muscles in all four of her limbs to lead. Warm and rough, his wide palms caressed as they travelled her sides and up over her ribcage to cup her breasts.
At a healthy C cup, she filled his hands. Goose bumps popped with a running shiver as he brushed the pads of his thumbs over her stiffened nipples and they beaded further beneath the silk of her bra.
“You like that? It feels good?” His harshly spoken question was another form of caress.
She nodded.
“I can tell. Your nipples are incredibly sensitive, baby. I can’t wait to taste them.”
He plucked at one beaded tip wi
th index finger and thumb, and she helplessly swiveled her hips, rubbing herself against the hard ridge of his erection. Relief and frustration battled. Between her jeans and his, they were wearing far too many clothes.
“Do they like to be sucked?”
She whimpered.
“The idea makes me so hard I could explode.”
The paradox of his languid attentions and suggestive comments left her teetering on the edge of a precipice with nothing to hold onto.
Oh, God. He’s a sex whisperer.
She’d heard of men like him before but had never slept with one. The concept pierced the core of her femininity. Her inner muscles clenched on the verge of climax. She gasped in dismay. If he didn’t get on with it, she wouldn’t be sleeping with one now. She’d be reaching paradise, half-dressed and on her own. She dove for his belt buckle.
He laughed. “I guess they do.”
His rippling stomach muscles frustrated her attempt to slip his belt from the loops. She sat up straight. “If you’re going to be all talk and no action, I’m outta here.”
He had her on her back before she could blink. Wicked laughter shone in his eyes. “How did I know you’d be greedy in bed?”
She blasted him with a disappointed glare. “I’m not a greedy lover. I know how to give back. It’s just that—”
“Good to know.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake. This was a huge mistake. She tried to sit up then froze in midair when his mouth latched onto a nipple. Heat scorched her, shooting arrows of white, hot pleasure straight to her groin. He tongued her through the silk of her bra and guided her back down until she lay prone beneath him.
Her back arched at the scrape of his teeth, scoring the sensitive bud. A low purr gurgled in her throat, and her eyes slid shut. He tore the damp material of her bra away to capture her flesh in his open mouth as if he meant to swallow her whole. Bright shards of excitement flashed like a kaleidoscope of color on the backs of her eyelids.
She slid dangerously close to orgasm. Clenching her thighs together, she tried desperately to hold on. Not yet. Not yet.
To Win Her Love Page 16