by Karen Foley
It had taken every vestige of willpower and restraint he had not to kiss her earlier. He knew she had wanted him to, had seen the spark of heat in her eyes that said she would welcome the feel of his lips against hers. She had all but invited him free rein to that sweet, tempting mouth. He knew the attraction that smoldered between them wasn’t just in his imagination. He could practically feel her need and everything in him longed to satisfy it, but he had promised that she would be safe with him.
But there was no denying the fact he wanted her. Wanted her with a fierce urgency he couldn’t recall feeling for another woman in a long time. It was with extreme difficulty that he managed to get a grip on his rampant imagination.
“How about something cold to drink? A beer, maybe?”
To his relief, she smiled. “That sounds great. But do you have anything nonalcoholic? I have to get up early tomorrow morning.”
“No problem. How about some lemonade?”
“Sounds good.”
He indicated she should precede him back down the stairs, and he could have sworn that was a look of longing and regret she flicked between him and the bed before she turned away. With an inward groan, Cole followed her.
In the kitchen, he watched her covertly as he mixed up a pitcher of lemonade and poured two glasses, taking a long swallow from his own. She was standing and looking at a display of framed photos on the nearby wall.
“Is this your father, here?” She indicated a photo of him standing next to an older man, dangling a pair of freshly caught trout from a fishing line.
“Yeah.”
She slanted him a sidelong look and a quick smile. “I can see where you get your good looks.”
Cole laughed softly. Oh, baby, flattery will get you everything. He came around the corner of the island to hand her a chilled glass of lemonade. “Thanks.”
She took the proffered glass and turned back to the collage of photos. She sipped at the drink, and as Cole watched, a bead of condensation slid slowly down the length of the glass, hung suspended for a brief instant, and then plopped wetly onto the fragile line of her collarbone. She made no move to wipe it away, but continued to study the photos. Mesmerized, Cole followed the droplet’s path down over the smooth plane of her upper chest until it slid slowly from sight beneath the edge of her sundress.
“Are these your siblings?”
Cole dragged his gaze upward. “Huh?”
“It looks like you come from a large family.”
Cole leaned over her shoulder to inspect the picture she was pointing to. Damn, she even smelled delicious. He tried not to inhale as he peered at the photograph. “Yeah, that’s me with my brothers and sisters, taken a few years ago.”
“There are so many of you!” She gave an amazed laugh. “That must have been fun, growing up in such a big family.”
“Fun? I don’t know if that’s the word I would’ve necessarily chosen. Interesting, maybe. Chaotic, definitely.”
He didn’t want to talk about himself or his upbringing. What would a woman like her know about the hardships of living in a small coal-mining town, with barely enough money to scrape by? Or that he and his six siblings had pretty much raised themselves while their mother worked double shifts at a hospital nearly an hour from Black Stone Gap? Nope. Definitely not stimulating conversation. And not nearly as exciting as standing directly behind her.
He couldn’t help himself. He bent his head fractionally and allowed himself to breathe deeply. There was the clean fragrance of her hair and the subtle scent of a light perfume. Beneath that was the delicate fragrance that was hers alone. The combination was intoxicating.
She turned her head and he heard her suck her breath in sharply, as if she was suddenly aware of just how close he was. He knew he should back off, but was momentarily transfixed by the small pulse that beat frantically along the side of her neck. Just that tiny disturbance beneath her smooth skin completely distracted him. Made him ditch every good intention he had of maintaining a respectable distance.
She turned slowly, and his eyes skimmed over her face. God, she was pretty. Gray-green eyes, clear skin combined with a faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and a pair of lips so pink and lush he ached to caress them with his own. This time, he knew he wouldn’t resist.
She was staring at him with a mixture of cautious awareness, as if she were half-afraid he might kiss her and more afraid that he wouldn’t. Slowly, he reached out and took the glass of lemonade from her, leaning over to place it on the countertop without ever taking his eyes from hers. He told himself to go slowly. Be ready to back off if she gave the slightest indication this wasn’t her game.
He slid his hands beneath her hair and gently massaged the soft skin behind her ears with his fingertips. His thumbs smoothed over her cheekbones.
Lacey’s breath hitched audibly, and as he watched, her eyelashes fluttered and then closed, and her breath escaped on a soft sigh of pleasure. He felt his own desire kick up a notch. She swayed slightly, a barely perceptible movement toward him, and with a groan, Cole bent his head and covered her mouth with his own.
She tasted every bit as good as he knew she would. Her lips were unbelievably soft, and when she made a small, incoherent sound in the back of her throat and pressed closer to him, he nearly groaned aloud in satisfaction. He deepened the kiss. He buried his fingers in the silken mass of her hair and tipped her face up to more thoroughly explore the sweet recesses of her mouth.
Her breasts thrust softly against his chest and her hands had crept up to rest against his rib cage. His senses were filled with the taste, smell and feel of her. He was intoxicated by it. And so completely aroused that he knew she must be aware of it.
With supreme effort, he dragged his mouth from hers and stared down at her. Her face was flushed. And right now her eyes were definitely green and glazed with pleasure.
“Damn.” His voice was husky, filled with awe. He traced his thumb over her swollen, damp lips. “Lady, if that’s what your kisses are like, then we’d better stop right now because anything more is going to kill me.”
To his utter amazement, she turned her head and followed his finger, taking it moistly into her mouth and biting down gently on the pad with her white teeth.
Sweet mercy.
The sensation was like a bolt of hot liquid shooting straight down to his groin, where he was already straining against the denim fabric.
His hand cupped her cheek, and she covered it with her own, her skin cool and soft. She raised luminous eyes to his. “What if I don’t want to stop?”
He ceased breathing. Damn near ceased existing except to try and formulate some coherent response to that statement.
She didn’t want to stop.
The heat that was already coursing through him turned molten.
“Then, baby,” he whispered, dipping his head to taste the corner of her mouth, “I’m going to die a happy man.”
4
WHATEVER LACEY EXPECTED, it wasn’t to be swept completely up into those rugged arms. She gave a little cry of surprise and instinctively clutched him around the neck as he strode from the kitchen and through the living room to a separate wing beneath the loft.
“I want you so badly,” he growled low in her ear, “but I don’t want our first time to be on the kitchen counter.”
Our first time. He spoke as though there was absolutely no question about there being a second time, and even a third. And maybe, if she was very lucky, it would be on the counter. Lacey shivered with anticipation.
He shouldered a door open and they were in a bedroom, dark but for an enormous wall of windows that allowed the moonlit sky to illuminate the room. Cole set her on her feet beside a low, wide bed, but didn’t release her. He slid his hands up over the bare skin of her arms to her shoulders and drew her into his warmth.
“Lacey.” His voice was low, husky. He threaded his fingers through her hair, cradling her scalp and tilting her face up to receive his kiss.
> The intensity of his lips on hers seared through her, fanning the flames of her desire until she moaned softly and wound her arms around his neck, pressing wantonly against his hard frame. His tongue tangled with hers and she welcomed it, drew his head down and slanted her mouth against his to allow him better access. His own mouth was hot and sweet and tasted faintly of lemonade. She was being consumed, lost in a kiss so molten she felt she might actually melt. And all she could think was that she wanted more.
Lacey dragged her lips from his, gasping. Even in the indistinct light, he looked like he was going to devour her. And didn’t that sound good? She searched his eyes, seeing her own need reflected there. She knew it was crazy, this overwhelming urge she had to be in his arms, to be crushed against that solid chest and surrounded by his heat and strength.
This man had the ability to send her pulse rate off the charts with no more than a heated glance. She didn’t want to wait another minute to discover just what he could do when he really put his mind to it.
Silently, without taking her eyes from his, Lacey grasped a handful of his T-shirt in each hand and slowly began to tug it free from the waistband of his jeans. She pushed the fabric up and slid her palms over the lean, muscled contours of his waist. God, he was hard everywhere. There wasn’t an ounce of extra flesh to be had, at least from what she could feel. His skin was like hot silk.
“You’re incredible,” she breathed, and she wasn’t exaggerating.
She pushed the fabric up higher until she could feel the hard thrust of his pecs. She smoothed her palms over his muscles until her fingertips encountered the small nubs of his nipples. She heard him suck in his breath, felt his body tighten beneath her questing hands. Barely pausing, she continued to slide the material upward, and he helped her by raising his arms and dragging the shirt over his head.
Oh. My. God.
Lacey gaped at the man standing before her. Moonlight slanted in through the window behind him, gilding his body in silver. He was astonishingly beautiful. Breathtaking. All rigid muscles and lean contours, from the hard thrust of his powerful shoulders down to the sculpted ridges of his stomach.
Lacey’s mouth went dry and a liquid heat pooled at her core. Even her overly active imagination could never have created the perfection that was Cole MacKinnon. And she hadn’t even seen the rest of him, which she was definitely going to have to do something about.
“Okay.” Cole’s voice was warm and husky in the darkness. “My turn.”
Lacey’s insides turned to jelly at the implicit promise in his softly spoken words. She stood in boneless anticipation as he reached out and drew her slowly forward, until an inhale of breath was all that prevented the tips of her breasts from brushing against his chest. He cupped the nape of her neck and tipped her head to the side to allow him unrestricted access to the sensitive skin of her throat. His lips trailed a path along her jaw as his other hand swept down her back, smoothing over the arch of her spine and taking her zipper with it.
Then he was sliding the fabric from her shoulders, easing it down over her arms until it settled around her waist. Lacey shivered, despite the warmth of the evening. He stepped back slightly and switched on a small bedside lamp. She could feel the heat of Cole’s gaze like a lick of flame along her flesh.
Holding her gaze, he took her hands in his own and intertwined their fingers as he slowly drew her arms away from her body. Only when they were stretched outward did he allow his stare to drift downward. The hot, raw masculine desire she saw in his eyes was unmistakable, and the sweep of his gaze across her body was like a physical caress. Her nipples tightened and her skin warmed beneath his intimate regard.
“You’re perfect,” he said on a husky note, and with her fingers still tangled warmly in his, drew her hands up until they encircled his neck. He dipped his head briefly to capture her lips with his own, caressing them.
Lacey closed her eyes, giving herself up to his expertise. His body began a slow, rhythmic swaying against hers as he slid his hands down the length of her arms. Hardly aware of doing so, she pressed closer and then gasped softly into his mouth as he deftly unhooked the back of her bra and eased the straps down.
“I want to see you,” he rasped. “All of you.”
Setting her slightly away from him, he lowered her arms until the bra slid from her body to the carpet. He made a low growling sound of approval and filled his hands with her breasts. He cupped them, lifted them and squeezed them gently until the nipples thrust upward, practically begging for more. Lacey felt weak, and when Cole dipped his head and swirled his tongue around one engorged peak, she thought she would collapse from sheer pleasure.
“Ohmigod,” she gasped, uncertain whether it was the sensation of his mouth, hot and wet, against her sensitive flesh or the sight of his dark head against her breast that caused every rational part of her brain to completely shut down.
She clutched at his head, running her fingers over the rough velvet of his hair and urging him silently to continue. He rolled one nipple between his teeth and then drew sharply on it, his hands sliding down over her hips and back up again, this time beneath the fabric of her sundress. He cupped her bottom as he suckled her, his fingers scant inches from that part of her that was pulsating and damp with need.
Lacey arched her back, wanting to be closer still. She slid her hands over the muscled contours of his arms and up over his shoulders, reveling in his hardness and his heat.
Releasing her breast, he captured her face between his hands and claimed her mouth in a kiss that was completely off the charts. It was a no-holds-barred kind of kiss that was all-consuming and said without words how desirable he found her. She made no protest when he reached down and pushed the sundress from her hips to pool on the floor. Without breaking the kiss, he slid his hands into the back of her panties and cupped the soft mounds of her cheeks, squeezing gently while he fitted himself against her hips. Through the material of her panties and his jeans, his arousal was unmistakable.
“Tell me what you like,” he demanded hoarsely, pulling back and searching her face. “I want to make this right, to make it good…”
Lacey laughed unevenly. Was he kidding? Five minutes of his mouth against hers was better than anything she’d ever experienced. From here on, anything else he did was just an added bonus.
“Okay, then,” she whispered. “Why don’t you start where you are and, um, work your way down?”
“Sweetheart, nothing has ever sounded so good,” Cole assured her, and eased her back until her legs came up against the edge of the bed.
With a soft murmur of assent, Lacey lay back across the coverlet and drew him down with her, but he scooped her up and hefted her more fully into the center of the bed, settling himself alongside her. True to his word, he started at her ear, circling it with his tongue, his warm breath sending shivers of anticipation through Lacey. He kissed her briefly, intensely, his tongue sweeping against hers before he began to work his way down her body. He filled his palms with her breasts, kneading them and rolling the distended tips between his fingers before laving each one with his tongue.
Lacey drew her breath in sharply at the exquisite sensation and arched upward against his questing mouth, her hands exploring the ridges and valleys of his back and shoulders. Too soon, he released her breasts and trailed his lips across her stomach, sliding his hands beneath her.
When he reached the edge of her panties, he kissed the delicate skin just above the fabric and looked up at her. Lacey’s breath was coming unevenly. It was almost embarrassing how intensely aroused she was. She wanted nothing more than for him to settle himself on top of her so she could rotate her hips against his hardness.
“Open your legs,” he whispered, and cupped her knee with one hand, urging her legs apart.
His soft command was so sexy that Lacey was helpless to prevent her legs from falling open. He bent his head and kissed her through the silky fabric of her panties. The heat of his mouth on her was almost her undoing a
nd her hips jerked in response. “Oh, please, please…”
“Soon, baby, soon,” he murmured and reared up to kneel between her splayed thighs. And just like she had imagined, he began to slide her panties slowly down over her hips. She lifted her bottom to help him, raising one leg so he could tug them off completely, and then she was lying there with absolutely nothing to shield her from his molten gaze.
“You’re so damned gorgeous,” he whispered hoarsely, and cupped her lightly with one hand. “And hot. So hot.”
Watching him as he looked at her through half-closed eyes was an incredible turn-on. His expression made Lacey feel as if she was the sexiest woman on earth. She was practically purring.
He bent forward, and Lacey wrapped her arms around him, seeking his mouth and drawing on his tongue. God, he tasted so good. But as wonderful as he felt beneath her hands, she wanted more. She reached between them and began to work at his belt, frustrated when it wouldn’t release for her.
He laughed softly, the warm sound curling along her senses. “Easy, sweetheart. We have all night.” But he obliged her by pushing her hands aside and releasing both his belt and the button on his jeans in a few deft movements.
“Finally,” Lacey panted, and scarcely believing her own boldness, she reached down and cupped him through the denim, watching his eyes darken with desire. He was large, that much she could tell. Leaning forward, she slid his zipper down and began to ease the fabric over his lean hips. “My turn,” she whispered. “Now I want to see you. All of you.”
Cole sat up and swiftly removed his boots and socks. With an urgency that was almost comical, he shoved his jeans down over his knees and kicked his legs free.
He was wearing a pair of black boxer briefs. They were snug and hugged the taut curves of his backside. His thighs were lean and corded with muscle. He could have been a cover model for men’s underwear. And when he turned toward her once more, Lacey saw the impressive bulge that strained against the fabric.