“What do you want?” she teased.
He answered with his lips and tongue. One large, sure hand lifted her hair to cup the back of her head and pull her against him. Hard and delving, his kiss melted her faster than fire could have, tasting wild like the food he’d caught and smelling of pine and smoke and tangy male perspiration. Every desire liquefied within her and rushed like water over a broken dam to the aching point between her legs.
Mewling with impatience, she found her way onto his lap, never breaking the searching kiss while arching her belly into his.
Their kiss, succulent, punctuated with quiet and not-so-quiet groans and escalated breathing, intensified every sensation until she believed the simple friction of their bodies sliding naturally against each other would be enough to send her flying over a cliff of pleasure. Then his free hand slipped under her T-shirt, and his hard, round fingertips slid up her torso, scalding her skin, meeting the bottom of her bra and pushing it out of the way like it was no more barrier than a soap bubble. His thumb found the tip of her breast and she broke their kiss for the first time, gasping in pleasure.
“You like that?” he rasped.
“Duh,” she whispered.
He lay back and expertly switched their positions, cradling her body from the hard ground and hovering above her, his eyes smoky in the evening light now slanting through the trees. She stroked his cheek, roughened with a day’s growth of beard, handsome with its strong cheekbones. He closed his eyes.
“Thank you,” he said.
“What for?”
“For waiting. This is what you deserve—not petulant lovemaking from a man in bloody crisis mode.”
She giggled at the formality. “I love it when you speak Duke to me. So proper.”
He lifted her shirt, exposing the breast he’d been caressing. “Yeah? Well, here’s your proper right here.”
He laid her onto the carpet of pine needles and slid down her body until his mouth found her nipple. She cried out at the array of fireworks shooting through her body as first one breast and then the other received lavish attention. He followed with tickled kisses and nips between her breasts and down her stomach, making her buck as she squirmed to get away. He held her captive and blew raspberries onto her skin. Squealing laughter rang into the trees.
“Ticklish, are we?” He lifted his head, his grin limned with devilish intent.
“Yes, yes. Stop!” He blew another wet kiss next to her belly button. “Stop!”
He shimmied back up her body, cupping her breast and stopping her helpless laughter with a kiss.
“I suppose it’s true, we never finished dinner.”
She wanted nothing more to do with roasted rabbit. In his arms she was full, satisfied, and convinced he could keep them both that way. Insanely she wanted to bind herself to this man who seemed deeper, more pain-filled, and yet more loving and trustworthy than her own family ever had. After just this brief time, after this small dip into the pool of his life, she wanted to jump off into the deepest water and let him be her lifesaver.
“I only want dessert.”
“Hmmm.” He kissed her ear. “Cliché but most agreeable.”
He pushed to his feet, tugged her up after him, and swung her into another deep, thirsty kiss. Kissing her all the way, he pushed her toward the horses’ tack set neatly beneath a tree. Parting from her long enough to grab the two woolen saddle blankets, he locked lips again, walked them back to the fire, unfolded the blankets, and spread them on the ground with the horsehair-covered sides down.
“Bob’s your uncle,” he said. “Fit for a king.”
“I’m not greedy. A duke will do.”
“You really have to stop calling me that. I’m starting to believe I’m actual royalty.”
“Fine by me.”
They sank to their knees on the blankets. Both his hands this time slipped up her sides and in a fluid motion he shucked off her shirt like silk from satin. Equally gracefully he divested her of the lacy bra beneath it.
His gaze caressed her almost physically, and every inch of her skin dimpled into goose bumps and hard peaks. Hot, masculine hands spanned her rib cage, and his thumbs found her nipples again.
“Gorgeous.”
“Let me see you.”
She followed his lead and tugged off his T-shirt. The effort left his thick hair mussed and his eyes luminous. Tipping forward, she pressed her lips to the soft patch of hair on his chest, then kissed her way up to the hollow of his throat. His taste was sweet and salt, rough and manly, different from anyone she’d ever known. Serious, playful, and soul-deep exciting.
He fumbled with her waistband, unsnapping her fly, rasping down the zipper, and sending anticipatory chills dancing down her thighs. When the jeans flapped open, he plunged his fingers past the waistband to her seat, curling them over the curves of her glutes, kneading into the muscles and pulling her closer with each pulse of his hands.
With a final tug he locked her against the long length of his erection, and everything inside her shimmered to a standstill with the exception of a flight of exquisite butterflies that left trails of feathery sparks along her body.
“Nearly perfect,” he whispered.
Everything he touched turned to sensation and every sensation fed the desire that was fast becoming craving. They collapsed together onto the blankets and the wool only added stimulation to her sensitized skin. His tongue circled in her mouth, stroking the tender surfaces. Quivering, she roamed his shoulders, his back, and his muscular arms with desperate fingers. Finally she forced her hand between them and found the snap to his jeans. It took a little perseverance, but once she had his zipper down, she reached past the denim and stroked him through the cotton of his boxers.
He groaned, and she couldn’t rush her boots off or wriggle out of her jeans fast enough. Once naked, she bent tor David’s boots and yanked them off, first the left and then the right, and tossed them unceremoniously into the trees. Seconds after that, he peeled off his jeans and grabbed her to him, his long male body rough and glorious against hers.
There was not enough time and yet all the time in the world to explore the new places, textures, feelings of each other. His body was a magnificent toy, full of hard planes and soft spots, dark hair, and firm skin. Everything she touched made her shiver.
But she didn’t want to be far enough away from him to explore for long. She wanted him around her and in her and with her. She threw one leg over his hip, and his fingers found her softest and most sensitive spot. Lightning struck again and again as he explored the dampness at the juncture of her legs with a long, talented finger. She pushed reluctantly away and grasped his length with confidence, glorying in the power she could wield over him.
They played, they teased. He traced her tattoos and she loved how he touched her. How even in his ardor and foreplay, without words, he promised never to hurt her. She loved that she knew it without question.
Without warning, playing wasn’t enough.
Desire like a tsunami slammed her from head to core, leaving her trembling in his arms.
“Now,” she begged. The first words either had spoken in long minutes.
He rolled to his side, grabbed his jeans and dug in a pocket, then rolled back with a foil square.
“More supplies you sneaked past me.” She kissed him. “My prepared Scout.”
“They did not teach us this in Scouting.” His grin only heightened her need. “And just so you know. I didn’t believe we’d get anywhere near this point tonight. But since we’ve been dangerous together from the start, I didn’t dare leave without these.”
She watched with trembling fascination while he rolled on the protection, astounded by her erotic reaction. “Is now still a good time?” he teased into her ear, returning to her and draping himself over her body.
“Five minutes ago would have been better.”
He entered her slowly, and she arched into him, feeling his fullness as if it had been a missing part of her.
The rhythm came so easily, so wondrously, at first it was like playing all over again. Their foreheads bumped, he kissed her nose, her eyes. She laughed softly with hitching breath. They made the pleasure last—forced it to last—as they rocked together in a heated dance as old as time. And then, the fire slammed them both without warning.
He cried into her cries. The reds, blues, golds, and whites of the powerful orgasm carried her away from her body, only to bring her crashing back with wave after wave of licking heat. David drove, his muscles rock firm, his breath hot on her face, sweet in her nostrils. But she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t control the waves that just kept crashing until, at last, tears of relief and utter joy flowed down her cheeks, dousing the flames into hot, glowing embers.
SOMETIME IN THE night she’d wrapped herself back around him like a child around a teddy bear. David yawned and smiled into her hair, surprisingly comfortable. Rio’s sweatshirt still covered their shoulders, his zippered hoodie their feet. They’d dressed reluctantly in the light of the campfire, but the nights were cool now, and sleeping naked in the woods even with a fire was a poor idea no matter how much he would have loved waking her at midnight to re-create what they’d shared.
The sky glowed pewter and purple, indicating dawn was less than an hour away. David didn’t want to wake her. Her red hair tumbled across her face like the remnants of their fire from last night. All her wariness had vanished, leaving only peace on her features. How she’d turned him inside out last night, he didn’t know. His only explanation was that somehow he felt whole when they were together. Or else she was exactly the wood nymph she appeared to be in sleep.
“Rio?” He smoothed the hair out of her eyes. “Love? Wake up.”
She awoke immediately, her blue eyes filled with disoriented concern.
“It’s all right. Everything’s fine,” he said.
Her features relaxed into a smile. “Hi.”
“How does a ride sound?”
“Now?” Her sleepy incredulity made him laugh.
“No, not for five whole minutes.”
“Oh, all right then.” She kissed him on the corner of the mouth and closed her eyes, snuggling back into his side.
Forty-five minutes later, with the campsite looking exactly as it had when they’d arrived, they rode into a clearing and tethered Gomer and Tully to trees at the bottom of a twenty-five-foot rise. Rio followed him to the top where they could see out to the horizon. He marveled at her acceptance of this entire night—a rash and arrogant plan he’d put into action just to assuage the resurgence of guilt and inadequacy he should have fully buried long ago. The tough inner city girl, with no experience at this whatsoever, was following without a whimper. And healing him without a question.
Maybe her dream of solitude and self-sufficiency wasn’t so far-fetched after all. She’d probably do fine. But the thought of her pursuing any dream that took her away filled him with dread.
“Oh David, look!”
He’d seen the sunrise countless times, as a boy learning to camp, as a hiker with his mother, as a soldier in the deserts of Iraq. But he’d never seen it along with a face as full of wonder as Rio’s. She watched the colors spread through the eastern sky, yellow, pink, and purple studded with sapphire, as if she’d been given sight for the first time.
“Pretty, ’eh?”
He sat behind her, legs spread, regretting the position as soon as she leaned back.
“It’s miraculous. Oh, look at the colors!”
The sun’s fireball rose slowly at first, then it floated fully over the horizon and sent the shadow colors fleeing in the power of its yellow-and-white light. After five minutes it blazed fully in a fresh, pale-blue sky.
“Thank you,” Rio whispered, as if he’d given her the sun as a personal present.
“Are you anxious to get back to the farm?”
“Why?”
“I’ve a whole list of sights to show you as long as we’re out here. And I think I know where there are some wild raspberries for breakfast.”
“It sounds too good to be true.”
“Then spend the day with me, my love, and I’ll prove it’s not.”
She craned her neck, and her lush lips pecked him on the cheek, soft as down, powerful as a stun gun. “I can’t think of a more perfect idea.”
Chapter Thirty
* * *
“JUST BE PREPARED. We could be buggered with my mother.”
Rio halted Tully beside Gomer and laughed. “There’s still an hour before anyone comes for the party. It’s not like she gave me any real jobs to do.”
They’d spent the day wandering an area of waterfalls and creeks, a limestone-walled river valley, and countless wooded nooks and crannies. Although her body now ached from hours in the saddle, it also glowed—from an impulsive lunch of little sustenance but sweeter lovemaking than the night before. No guilt over being away while party prep took place was going to ruin her newfound happiness.
“Where the devil have you two been?” Colin, pouring himself a generous glass of wine, greeted them in the kitchen, more amusement than chastisement in his question. “Your mother’s been beside herself.”
“I’m sure she has things well in hand without me,” David said. “We were delayed.”
Colin shrugged, and his eyes lit on Rio. His gaze narrowed, and she swore a flicker of a smile threatened his lips. “Get up to your rooms and change before the bloody gauntlet of Minnesota’s most impressive dressers is assembled, touch wood Stella doesn’t see you along the way, and if you show up cheerful and ready, you might escape all hell.”
Rio groaned internally. She’d known she would have to find something that approximated party clothing, but she hadn’t done it.
“I have nothing to change into,” she said when Colin had left the room. “I’ll just—”
“Well, well. The prodigal children. Where did you two run off to?”
Rio looked up to find Kate in a tea-length cocktail dress of olive green, the bodice and plunging neckline encrusted with gold and green gems and sequins. On anyone else the color could have been sickly. On Katherine it stunned.
Her elegant eyes shot arrows of disapproval—directly at Rio.
“Hullo, Kate,” David replied cheerfully. “I took Rio to see some sights on the other side of the state park, and darkness came on more quickly than we’d figured. We found a safe place to overnight and then, in truth, we didn’t hurry back. You know how much I was looking forward to this.”
“What’s going on?” Stella bustled in next and stopped short.
“Hey, Mum. Here we are, just in time for the do.”
“You do realize I nearly called our lovely local constable.” She assessed them sharply as if trying to decide whether to send them to their rooms or simply scold them. “At least you had manners enough to let your man Andy know you’d taken the horses. And I know you can take care of yourself in the direst of conditions. But I really could have used your help earlier, David.” She sighed and shook her head. “Well, nothing for it. Go and change, and then help your father with moving the chairs.”
Rio bit back a snort. So it was both a scolding and a trip to their rooms.
“Stella, let me stay in here and take on the kitchen coordination,” Rio said. “I really have nothing appropriate to wear, and I’m perfectly happy to fill platters and coffeepots.”
“Pish-tosh,” she replied without a blink. “Kate can help you find something to wear. There are dresses I’ve left here, in your room, in fact. Kate, love, you can do her up in a snap.”
“Of course.”
Kate looked as if she’d rather do anything else, and Rio’s resentment swelled for the first time. “I really don’t think I need—”
“Mum,” David interrupted. “You have to let Rio do as she pleases.”
Rio smiled with gratitude. Kate did, too. “I agree,” she said. “Rio, you do whatever you wish.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see Kate wasn’t w
orried for a second about Rio’s feelings or comfort. She would have David as an escort all evening if Rio acted as kitchen servant. Petulance and possessiveness trumped Rio’s pride in a rush.
“Actually,” she said. “If you’ll show me the dresses, I’d like to try to them.”
Kate couldn’t hide the puckered scowl of her surprise, but David grinned in obvious happiness, and that made following Kate’s regally draped backside up the stairs worth letting Stella win. Rio would have to owe David one. She hadn’t stood up to uber-mother either.
Once in her room, Rio showed Kate the dresses she’d noticed her first night and not thought of since. Kate studied the two for only a moment before picking the black-and-white sequins.
“This will bring out your red hair.”
“You don’t have to hide away up here with me, Kate. I can dress myself.”
“Let’s see how it fits. I work with clothing and know a few tricks. After that I’ll leave you alone.”
Rio sighed, with a sudden welling of nerves. “I lied. I’m the last girl who knows how to dress for a party. I’m sorry you got forced into this, but I really do appreciate the help.”
Kate said nothing for a long moment, looking from Rio to the dress and back. Finally she shook her head. “Nobody forced me. You’re a natural beauty, Rio. I can see why David would be attracted.”
“It’s not what . . .” She stopped herself. It definitely was exactly what Kate thought, and Rio was tired of hiding it. “It’s mutual,” she said, for the first time.
“I’m not surprised. Look, Rio, I’ll be honest. I’m not giving up on getting him back.”
“Understood.”
She said nothing more. It might be fun to fight for someone she wanted. And, despite herself, she found that Kate’s ministrations, which could have been obnoxious, were fun, too. The black-and-white dress flowed opulently to just above Rio’s ankles. Although it was two inches too big around, Kate sent Rio to shower “in five minutes, no more,” and took a raft of safety pins expertly to the side seams.
Beauty and the Brit Page 31