She wasn’t superstitious, but she’d read enough romances to recognize a portent. It seemed like an impossibly long trek down the lane. When Robbie’s farmhouse came into view, a dog barked, shortening her stride. Avery.
Robbie stood at the top of the porch stairs, a shoulder propped on the whitewashed column, his finger hooked around the neck of a beer. She blew out a long breath and rubbed the palms of her hands over the back of her shorts.
What if he didn’t want her? What if he laughed in her face? Then she’d walk straight into the woods in search of a wild pig to gobble her up.
#
Robbie’s gaze travelled down tanned legs in the shortest shorts he’d ever seen. Legs he constantly imagined wrapped around him. Her tank top revealed more of her breasts than it concealed. Black lace peeked over the top.
“What do you want?” His words were ill chosen, his tone contentious. He was locked in a dark battle with his own demons, craving something that was sure to destroy the barriers between his past and present.
“I-I think maybe I made a mistake.” She whirled and took two steps away.
He leapt down the porch steps, but she stopped and turned around before he got close enough to grab her hand. No way in hell was she going anywhere.
She continued in a shaky voice, “No. I came here because …” Was it the moonlight making her look so pale and fragile? “I like you, Robbie. I mean, more than like … I—” She hummed and looked to the sky, seeming to find something in the blackness that steeled her resolve. Her gaze dropped back to his, strong and steady. “I want you.”
The three words hung in the air like the fog along the tree line.
Jesus, he wanted her too. He wanted her sexy little body under him, over him, around him. He closed the space between them to three feet. The scent of honeysuckles wafted from her skin and her hair, surrounding him and crumbling his defenses.
The rise and fall of her chest marked time. Her voice sounded pained and thin. “Do you even want me a little?”
He almost laughed, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “You have no fucking idea how much I want you. I think about getting your legs around me every waking second of the day. The picture of you naked in the river will haunt me forever.” How could he protect himself from her? How could he have her, yet not allow her to carve her name on his heart? “You’re going to be gone in a few months, sweetheart. How about we keep this fun? We’ll go our separate ways at the end of your leave, no hard feelings? Can you do that?”
“Can you?” she shot back.
“Of course.” The lie tore from his chest.
“My leave is up at Thanksgiving. I suppose we can keep this casual, no strings. A season together,” she said, her gaze on their feet.
“A season. That’s it. Are we agreed?”
She met his gaze and nodded. He swooped, wrapping her close in his arms and burrowing his face into her hair. He inhaled her sweetness, her innocence.
She latched her arms around his neck. He closed his eyes and skimmed lips across her temple, her cheekbone, her jaw, before finding her mouth. He licked and nipped at her lips. Her moan fed the smoldering passion of their kiss. There was nothing casual about the moment.
He backed toward the stairs, still holding her tight, his tongue flicking between her soft, parted lips. His heels hit the bottom step. Banding his arms around her waist, he picked her up, climbed to the top, and pressed her against the column.
He cupped her bottom and notched his thigh between hers. The length of his erection pressed along her hip bone, and her pelvis circled. The seam at his crotch felt ready to split.
He trailed his thumbs under the hem of her shorts to caress the soft skin of her upper thigh and the curve of her bottom. How many times had he dreamed about her ass? Every night? She exhaled his name, inciting a groan from deep in his chest. His tongue wrangled hers for domination, but she wasn’t one to give in so easily, mounting forays inside of his mouth. His tongue skimmed along her upper lip, and he sucked it deep.
Stepping back, he kissed down her neck. Twisting her head, she exposed its long, graceful length and grasped his shoulders, pulling at his cotton shirt. His hands left her bottom to skim from her neck to her shoulders, taking the straps of her tank top with them. He pulled the fabric under her breasts and exposed the transparent black lace of a push-up bra thrusting her breasts high.
“Are you trying to give me a stroke?” He cupped a breast and thumbed her peaked nipple. He pulled the tip inside his mouth, lace and all. Her back arched, pushing her onto his thigh.
He moved to the other breast. This time he shifted the lace down until her nipple jutted over the top. His mouth settled over the hard pink tip.
He tugged her tank top over her head, tossed it away, and pulled both bra cups down until her breasts were on lewd display. The lowering of her zipper echoed. He pushed her shorts to her ankles, and she kicked them aside.
He pinned her hands above her head on the column and stepped back. Her eyes drifted closed. As he had suspected, her tits were stellar. Like at the river, the wanton, erotic picture she made held him immobile, and he reveled in her wild beauty. His arousal ratcheted even higher, but with it came a certain poignant melancholy.
Her hands still trapped in one of his, she squirmed against the pillar, but not as a means of escape. Her legs spread wider, and she rocked up on her tiptoes.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” He nipped at her earlobe, and she shivered in his grasp.
“Touch me, Robbie.” A hoarse sensuality inflamed her voice as if she had discovered her power over him.
He obeyed. Keeping his gaze on her face, he flicked one exposed nipple with his tongue. Her eyes opened into his, dazed yet determined.
“More, Robbie. I’ve waited so long.”
He inhaled sharply. Did she dream of him too? The thought nearly made him lose the tenuous hold he had on his control. Several deep breaths tamed the storm that raged. Only then did he move his hand between her legs.
His fingers slipped over wet lace. They moaned in tandem, and he dropped her hands to cup her nape and kiss her, his tongue delving deep. He shifted her panties to the side and slid a finger through her soft folds. She yanked his shirt up, and he broke the kiss long enough to rip it off.
The lace of her bra and her hard nipples rasped against his bare chest. If this weren’t their first time together, he’d hike up her leg and press inside of her right there. Or maybe he’d bend her over the rail and take her from behind.
He lolled his head back, gusting in great breaths and counting. Although he wasn’t having a true panic attack, an anxious knot settled in his chest. He needed to be inside of her bad.
Her hands left his shoulders and pulled at his pants. His belt unlatched with a clink and the button gave at her tug. His zipper lowered. Finally, her hand was inside his pants, rubbing over the bulge covered by a pair of boxer briefs.
Breathing hard, he pulled back and laid his forehead against hers.
He’d give her one more chance. “There’s nothing fake about how much I want you. Are we doing this, darlin’?”
Chapter 14
The bite of wood at Darcy’s back matched the physical onslaught Robbie wreaked with his body. Being stripped naked outside fed the wild part of her she wanted to deny. The part that wanted him to take her against the column. Her cries of pleasure would echo through the night like any animal. A slight breeze brushed her sensitized skin.
Were they doing this?
“Hell yes.”
Without a thought for the future or keeping it between the lines, she drove straight off the cliff. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she slammed her mouth on his with a ferocity she’d never experienced.
He cupped her buttocks and lifted. Her legs circled his hips, his belt buckle and zipper abrading her inner thigh in pleasure-pain. He carried her inside to the back of the house and dropped her on a king-sized bed. Much more inviting than her teenaged, squeaky brass b
ed.
Moonlight filtered through the trees and lent the room an otherworldly light.
His scars didn’t distract from the beauty of his torso, not in the least. If anything, they amplified his strength. Propping herself up on her elbows, she was mesmerized by his every movement. He toed his shoes off, hooked thumbs over his waistband, and pushed his jeans and underwear to the floor.
Her lungs couldn’t draw in enough oxygen to keep her head from floating away. He was huge … and beautiful … and huge.
“Robbie, you’re beautiful,” she said on a harsh exhale, feeling like an idiot.
A laugh rumbled from deep in his chest as he came over her on hands and knees.
“That’s my line, and trust me, you’re beyond beautiful. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Warmth that had nothing to do with arousal heated her from the inside out. She owned a mirror. She wasn’t gorgeous, but in that moment, with his gaze sweeping over her, she felt it. He dropped over her, his lips finding hers. His weight was welcome, but he rolled to the side and propped his head on his hand.
In the dim light, she couldn’t tell where his gaze roamed, but one glance down her body showed her breasts still thrust over the top of her bra.
He leaned over to tongue her closest nipple, tilting her slightly toward him. He snaked his hand to her back, and her bra loosened. He stripped it away. His lungs inflated with a huge breath, the raspy hair on his chest tickling the sensitive side of her breast.
“That day by the river … I wanted to hide while you rose up out of the water. I wanted to watch the water coast down your breasts to between your legs. If that damn snake hadn’t found you just as attractive, you might have turned me into a deviant.” While he whispered, he cupped each breast, his thumb tormenting her nipples.
Her back arched, and her knees spread apart. The throb between her legs was insistent and all-consuming. She tugged the waistband of her panties down. He helped, and she flung them off the end of her foot.
Finally, they were both naked. His erection pressed against her hip. She circled an arm around his neck while the other caressed down his chest and stomach. Muscles jumped under her explorations. Her finger brushed the head of his erection, fluid beading the tip.
He took her hands and pulled her arms over her head.
“I want to touch you.” She tugged her hands, but his grip was firm.
“For right now, let me touch you, or I might humiliate myself.” His dark tone belied the teasing words.
Expectation tensed her muscles. She needed him to satisfy the ache that had been her constant companion since they’d met. He snaked his leg between hers while his fingers slipped between her legs. As he circled the bundle of nerves at the apex, a big, blunt finger entered her. Her hips bucked needing more. Her body gave itself over to him, her mind blocking out everything but her building climax.
At some point, he released her hands, and she clutched the bunched muscles of his shoulders, one side smooth the other puckered with scars. The crest approached, but instead of a familiar mild wash of pleasure, her orgasm hit like a tsunami, tumbling and violent.
Moans reverberated in the room, but she couldn’t untangle his from hers. He panted into her neck. An animalistic need for a claiming overtook her, and she pulled him between her legs, her pelvis rising, seeking.
He seemed nearly as desperate. The head of his erection slid through her folds and pressed inside her a few inches. Muttering a curse, he pulled out.
“Robbie, no. Please don’t tease me.” She made a grab for his cock, but he circled her wrist and pressed it on the bed by her head.
“Condom,” he said in a guttural, nearly unrecognizable language.
“Hurry, hurry,” she whispered on a shallow breath.
Shifting, he cast his hand around the nightstand, coming back with a square. He ripped the package open with his teeth and rolled it on. Instead of a wild plunge, he entered her slowly, the break lending him a control she couldn’t claim.
“You feel so good, so goddamn tight.” His voice wavered.
Between her intense climax and the stretch to accommodate him, her body turned to pure sensation. Somehow, she kept her eyes open, taking in the flex of his shoulders with his slow slide in and out, his clenched jaw, and the sheen of sweat breaking over his forehead. She tilted her pelvis and circled his hips with her legs.
“Harder, Robbie, take me harder.” She barely recognized her husky, sexy voice.
He hissed and did her bidding. After a few more thrusts, he stilled, pulsing inside of her. His jaw went slack, his eyes closed, and his shoulders shook under her hands. His collapse was sudden, and she might have worried if his heaving breaths weren’t rubbing his chest hair erotically against her breasts.
He rolled to his back, removed the condom, and pulled her into his side. She couldn’t keep her hands or her lips off him. With every kiss she brushed over his scars, his heart jumped under her hand. Tonight made her other sexual experiences feel like she’d been playing doctor with boys. Warnings had always flashed in her head. She’d always held part of herself back, afraid of what a lover might think of her. She’d never lost herself in passion before tonight, never felt so complete and satisfied.
“Was it me or was that amazing?” Her voice lilted in the aftermath.
His body tensed. Darcy hung onto a breath of air. She’d said the wrong thing. This was a casual, fun hookup. Nothing more.
The mattress turned into a bed of nails. What was her play? Should she gather her clothes and head back to Ada’s? A kiss on his cheek and a wave good-bye?
She shifted her legs away, but he turned to his side and weaved his legs with hers. Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, “It was amazing.”
He ran his hand down her back, over her ass, and back up into her hair. The repetitive motion relaxed her, lulled her close to sleep.
Before she succumbed completely, she asked, “Do you want me to leave?”
His hand stilled an instant before it delved into her hair. He inhaled at her temple, and on his exhale, he said, “No, I want you to stay.”
#
Ringing jarred her out of her warm cocoon. Without opening her eyes, she reached for her phone but only hit more mattress. Awareness flooded her along with Robbie’s sleep-roughened voice. “Right, I understand.”
She pulled the sheet to her chin and turned to face him. He’d sat up, his feet on the floor, one buttock exposed.
“No problem. I didn’t have plans.” His head swiveled so she could see his profile, but he didn’t turn around to catch her eyes. “Yep, I’m on my way.”
Alrighty, then. Her cue to exit was as clear as an airport worker directing a plane to its runway with those big orange cone thingies.
She looked around for her clothes. Crap. Her shorts and tank and shoes were outside somewhere. Her panties were hanging on a knob of his dresser across the room, and who the hell knew where her bra ended up. She weighed the humiliation of hunkering down in his bed against wandering outside naked to get dressed.
He rose and stretched. The muscles along his back rippled, and his butt clenched. A fantasy of spinning him around and taking him in her mouth started a syncopated pulse between her legs. Did one reckless night turn her into a total hussy?
No, this was no big deal. Grownups did this all the time. She should mimic his casualness. Swinging her legs over the side, she planted her feet on the cool wood floor, still holding the sheet over her breasts. Her bra lay a few feet away on the floor, but her hands refused to unclench the sheet.
He’d seen her body, touched it, licked it, entered it. Her body was a mystery no more. She needed to let go of the sheet. Her numb fingers finally opened and made a grab for her bra. Keeping her head down, she fought the bra clasp, finally latching it and pulling the straps over her shoulders. Panties next.
She stole a glance at Robbie. He’d pulled on boxer briefs and dark green pants. He watched her watch him, a smile tugging at his lips, his eyes heavy-lidded a
nd sensuous. Before she could reign herself in, her gaze trailed over his chest, the blond hair shining in the sunlight.
He plucked the black scrap of cloth from the knob and rubbed it between his fingers. “Here you go.”
She caught her panties but didn’t tug them on until he’d pulled a black T-shirt over his head, covering his chest and breaking the spell he’d cast over her.
Panties in place, she darted out of his bedroom. Avery shot outside when she opened the front door. Her shorts lay puddled by the column, and her shirt hung from an azalea. Her phone was still in her pocket, and thankfully there were no messages from Ada or Logan. It was seven thirty.
Now what? Did she go back inside and thank him for showing her a good time? Did she set out for home? As she waffled with the decision, he joined her on the porch. “Look, I have to go. Jake found another sounder of pigs.”
“I gathered as much. I need to head back to Tuscaloosa to check on Ada anyway.”
“When will you be back?”
Through her lashes, she studied him. He scratched his nape and bit his lip. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he felt as awkward about the situation as she did. “Does it matter?”
His arms dropped to his sides. “Last night was … I’m not sure … I’ll text you. We can figure out a time to hook up again.”
“So, I should wait for your booty text?” As crass as it sounded, the thought of exchanging some racy texts turned her on.
His laugh was rueful, but a glint of excitement animated his face. “Something like that. Wait a sec and I’ll give you a lift home.”
He jogged down the steps to his detached garage and rolled out the four-wheeler, throwing his leg over.
She mounted behind him, curling her body around his. The memory of his weight falling on top of her after his orgasm had her tightening her arms around his chest and her legs around his hips.
They shot off down the lane, the trip too short in the daylight. After he rolled to a stop, she swung off and faced him, tucking her messy bed hair behind her ears.
She hummed and focused on the woods over his right shoulder. “Thanks for last night.”
Slow and Steady Rush Page 15