For all her boldness, he had the feeling she remained naïve in many ways.
Slowly, he lowered her to the soft moss on the ground and stretched out beside her while he rained kisses on her lips and cheeks, even the tip of her nose. Pleasure rippled through him as she sighed beneath the onslaught.
Again without permission, he unbuttoned the top button of her dress with one hand and pushed the material back, then pressed his lips to the small patch of skin revealed. Ryleigh inhaled and swallowed hard. He felt the movement under his lips and smiled against her throat while he made quick work of unbuttoning the next button and the next, until they were all undone and the bodice of her gown parted. His fingers caressed the curve of her collarbone, then followed the edges of the silk to push the material away from her skin.
“I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I saw you at the Millers’. These buttons intrigued me.” He laughed softly against her skin and was rewarded with her shiver even as she tilted her head, exposing more of her neck to him.
Her scent of peaches penetrated his brain while the feel of her warm body next to him filled his soul. His lips left her ear and traveled to her throat and collarbone before he pulled away and studied her. A light pink blush infused her face, from her forehead all the way down to her chest where the edges of her bodice lay open to expose the fine lawn corset cover beneath her dress . . . and more buttons, these much smaller than the ones on her dress.
Exasperation welled within him. Why did women wear so many clothes? All he wanted to do was touch her skin, feel her naked flesh against his. He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her, his tongue darting around hers, tasting the flavor that was uniquely hers while he unbuttoned the corset cover with one hand. It took longer than he expected, but that was all right. It gave him more time to explore her mouth, more time to build her excitement and anticipation.
A soft moan of disappointment escaped her as he left her lips, but then she gasped as he spread the material to reveal her corset, which surprisingly wasn’t white like the corset cover. Nor was it pink or beige, but rather a shocking violet with ribbons of lavender. The sight made him grin. Leave it to Ryleigh to be as unconventional in her undergarments as she was with everything else.
Her skin was so pale and so damned soft, he couldn’t resist tasting her as his fingertips then his lips brushed against the upper part of her breast exposed by the corset and lace-edged chemise. Her breathing quickened, and his gaze flicked to her face, but her eyes remained closed and a slight smile curved her lips as her fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer. His grin disappeared as he eased her breast free of the corset and chemise beneath it, the weight of it heavy in his hand, the heat of her flesh nearly burning him. The nipple was already hard, and he pulled it into his mouth, sucking gently on the straining bud before he swirled his tongue around it.
Another startled gasp escaped her. “Teague.” Her voice came out between a sigh and a moan, but there was something more in the tone. She didn’t try to push him away or cover herself, but she stiffened, her body tensing against his as a shiver rippled through her. Was she frightened? By what they were doing? Or by what she felt? Though she learned rather quickly and had been an ardent student, she hadn’t known how to kiss that very first time. Did that mean she’d never been touched like this? Did she know anything about what went on between a man and a woman?
He lifted his head and studied her. After a moment, his hand left her breast to gently caress her face.
The only way to know would be to ask before either of them got carried away. He didn’t want to hurt her. Or frighten her. Making love should be a pleasurable experience for both of them, though he knew a woman’s first time could be painful―only for a moment or two, or so he’d been assured.
He trailed his thumb along her jaw line. “Ryleigh.”
She opened her eyes and once again, he was drowning in those vibrant pools of indigo. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”
He heard the uncertainty in the trembling quality of her voice, and he smiled to reassure her. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, but I need to know. Have you . . . I mean, is this . . . oh, hell, Ryleigh, I don’t know . . . ”
Her eyes widened, the irises turning a deeper violet blue and a soft smile graced her swollen lips. “Just ask me, Teague, if I’ve ever done this before.”
“Have you?”
Her blush deepened. “I know you’ll think it’s strange, but no.” She drew in her breath, her chest expanding to push her bare breast against his chest. “I’m thirty years old. A spinster by most standards. I’ve never even . . . You’re actually the first man I’ve ever seen na . . . without clothes. Oh, I’ve been kissed a time or two, but not very well, as you know.” She spoke quickly, telling him not only by her words but by how fast she said them that she was nervous and excited and frightened all at the same time. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “You’re disappointed.”
He said nothing as he moved, shifting his weight, then leaned up on his elbow and rested his cheek against his hand so he could study her. With his other hand, he smoothed his fingertips over her jawline then down the side of her neck, where he could feel her pulse beat.
“Open your eyes, Ryleigh.” When she did, he dropped a kiss on her lips. “How could I be disappointed in you?”
“Because you wanted . . . and I wanted . . . but I don’t know how.” Another sigh escaped her. “Oh, I know the mechanics. I have married friends who have shared much more than they probably should, but I’m not the kind of woman men usually want, Teague. I never thought I would―you know.” Her lids lowered, hiding her eyes from his sight, the long, dark lashes sweeping her reddened cheeks as she reiterated all her flaws. “I’m too bold, as you’ve said before. Too brash. Too tall. Too . . . ” Her voice became husky and tight, as if she were on the verge of tears. “But I thought maybe, with you . . . I could . . . We could . . . ”
“Make love?”
“Yes.” She turned her head to the side and wouldn’t look at him. “But we’re not going to, are we?”
Teague shook his head and suppressed his chuckle at her expression of obvious frustration and unhappiness. “No, we’re not. At least, not here and not right now, as much as I want to.” With his finger at the side of her chin, he made her look at him. “And I do want to, Ryleigh, but it wouldn’t be right. You deserve better.” And she did deserve better, not a quick toss by the riverside, although the moss beneath her was cool and soft. “Your first time should be special.” Her hair was spread out behind her head, and he picked up a curl, twisting it around his finger, then lowered his head and whispered in her ear, “And it will be. I promise.”
She shivered and let out a sigh. When she looked at him again, a small smile parted her utterly kissable, swollen lips and the sparkle was back in her eyes. This time, it had nothing to do with tears, but rather, mischief and perhaps, relief? “When?”
“What?”
“When? When are we going to make love?” She laughed, that deep, throaty sound that did funny things to his insides, then she put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him toward her. She kissed him, her mouth taking possession of his like he’d taught her. “I really am brash and irreverent, aren’t I?” she asked when she broke the kiss.
“I wouldn’t say that, Ryleigh.”
She stared at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, hiding the vivid color he was coming to love, but the gleam of naughtiness was still there. “The truth, Teague.”
“All right. I think you’re a bit . . . pushy.”
“Pushy?”
“Yes, darlin’. Pushy.” He grinned as he buttoned up her corset cover and her dress, hiding her delicious breasts and soft skin from his sight. “And beautiful. And desirable. Never doubt that.” He kissed her lips then the tip of her nose. “As I’ve said before, I seem to have lost all civility and correctness where you’re concerned, and if we stay here much longer, I might not be able to control mys
elf.” He rose to his feet, making sure his towel was still securely around his waist then extended his hand and helped her up. “I’ll take you home.”
Chapter Ten
Ryleigh leaned her cheek on her palm and stared out the window of the Prentice’s dining room while she idly stirred her coffee. The steady ting ting of the spoon hitting the sides of the cup failed to register in her brain. Indeed, though the dining room was full of other patrons, she didn’t hear a thing except for the thoughts roaming inside her head.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the edge of the river with Teague. He had wanted her, desired her, and that had come as a surprise.
No one had ever wanted her before, for all the reasons she had listed, and yet, he had, as evidenced by the sight of his arousal and how tenderly he touched her. The warmth of his lips at her throat before his tongue flicked out to lave the spot where her pulse beat had sent waves of pleasure rippling through her. Excitement as well as anxiety had skittered along her veins. She’d never experienced anything like that before and hadn’t been able to help the gasp that escaped her or whispering his name.
She hadn’t known that by doing so, he would stop touching her, and those heady, erotic feelings would slowly die away, though not completely. The memory remained in her mind and on her skin, surprising her when she least expected it, leaving her body alive and aching for more.
She’d spent a restless night and then another and another, tossing and turning, reliving every soft stroke of his hand, every tender touch of his mouth, every word whispered in her ear. Even now, she could feel his warm breath, her skin pebbling with gooseflesh.
“What’s wrong? Is the muffin not good? You’ve only picked at it.” Krissa stopped at her table, coffee pot in hand, a frown turning down the corners of her usually smiling mouth.
“What?” Startled, Ryleigh glanced at the woman, then down at her breakfast. She had only picked at the apple cinnamon muffin. Crumbs littered the plate, but the majority of the baked sweet remained intact. “Oh no, it’s delicious as always. I guess I’m not hungry this morning.”
“Hmmm,” the woman murmured and her frown vanished as quickly as it had come. “You haven’t touched your coffee, either.” She set the coffee pot on the table and placed her hands on her hips. Her smile widened, and her warm hazel eyes seemed to dance with mischief. “In fact, you’re sitting here like a moonstruck calf. Could it be you have something―or someone―on your mind? Like a certain sheriff we both know?”
The rush of embarrassment that heated her from the inside out could have melted her to her chair. As it was, it took every ounce of her willpower to remain seated and not run from the truth Krissa spoke. Her cheeks flamed as she stammered out a denial. “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Krissa raised an eyebrow, then let out an unladylike guffaw. “Oh, honey! If you could see your face right now, you’d know―” She stopped speaking abruptly, her eyes flitting to the window. “Well, speak of the devil.”
Ryleigh whipped her head around so fast, a wave of dizziness washed through her. If she had been standing, she might have fallen over. Thank goodness for the chair she had melted into as her gaze fell upon the object of her growing desire. He held Desi Lyn’s hand as they walked along the town square toward the school. The Hanlon children were with him as well, but she barely noticed them. Her focus was too attuned to him and the way he moved, his confident stride measured to that of the little girl at his side. She watched him bend down to tie Desi Lyn’s shoelace, then kiss her forehead before she scampered into the schoolyard.
“You’d better go.”
“What?” she asked, though she never took her gaze off the sheriff.
Krissa laughed again, a little more restrained. “Oh, my dear girl, you―”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” she murmured as if she hadn’t heard Krissa’s words at all. Perhaps she hadn’t, her mind too focused on him. She rose from her seat a little unsteadily, jostling the table a bit as she did so, sloshing coffee onto the saucer beneath the cup. Grabbing her hat from the chair next to her, she plopped it on her head then tried to tie the ribbon beneath her chin, but instead of coming out in a nice bow like she wanted, it ended up knotting horribly. It didn’t matter. He was walking this way, coming closer to the hotel.
She grunted in frustration as she yanked at the ribbons, then threw up her hands in defeat and ran through the dining room, oblivious to Krissa’s laughter, only to come to a skidding halt to avoid tumbling down the steps. Resting her hand on the banister, she took a deep breath then another to still the thunderous pounding of her heart.
“Good morning, Sheriff!” she greeted him as she stepped off the porch with feigned composure and fell into step beside him. “May I walk with you?”
“Of course.” He tilted his head toward her, tipping up the brim of his hat as he did so, his light gray eyes widening as he studied her.
Ryleigh swallowed hard, caught in the amused expression on his face, especially when a slow smile stretched his lips . . . lips she wanted to kiss, wanted to feel on her skin.
He stopped walking as his gaze swept over her face, his eyes darkening with undisguised enjoyment. “You . . . ah . . . You’re a bit . . . ” He closed his mouth as a flush highlighted his cheekbones. Without another word, he reached out and unknotted the ribbon of her hat. She sucked in her breath as the warmth of his fingers spread to her throat. Once untangled, he lifted her cap and readjusted it so it was no longer askew, then tied the black velvet ribbons into a huge bow to the side of her chin. “You were a bit crooked.”
“Th-thank you,” she stammered, unable to take her eyes from his.
“My pleasure.” The tone and timbre of his voice sizzled through her. He took her hand then and placed it in the crook of his elbow. The heat of his flesh crept through the fabric of his shirtsleeve and flowed into her fingers, which made her shiver, though the day was quite pleasant.
Mouth suddenly dry, Ryleigh licked her lips as they began walking toward the south end of town. “You know, we never finished our conversation that . . . day by the river. You were going to tell me everything.” It was a lie. She knew it but said it anyway, hoping he would take her at her word.
He didn’t. She should have known. Instead, he grinned, showing his pearly white teeth. He leaned a little closer, his lips close to her ear. “That’s not quite the way I remember it. As I recall, we didn’t do much talking at all.” His low, husky voice flowed through her veins like warm honey.
It was her turn to blush. Not only did her face heat, but her entire body flushed as the memories of his touch whipped through her. The inclination to finish what they’d started stormed through her, not with a whisper but with a roar, and she wanted, more than anything, to touch her lips to his right there in the middle of the sidewalk.
She cleared her throat and desperately tried to change the subject, afraid of what would happen if she didn’t. “Tell me about your brothers.”
His grin faded, and he studied her for the longest time as they walked, his face set as if it was carved from stone, his gaze searching her features until she thought he wouldn’t say another word. There was sadness in his eyes, a sorrow she had no right to make him feel, and she regretted asking him though her request was in no way intended to be cruel.
After a moment, while she held her breath and chastised herself for being unsympathetic, he finally gave a slight nod. “Eamon is the youngest of us,” he said as he assisted her down the short steps at the end of the sidewalk. Dust rose from the street as they crossed it. “And the most soft-hearted. He was like our mother. Kind. Considerate. Concerned about everyone else’s happiness more than his own. He took everything to heart, Eamon did. If he felt he had done you wrong, he’d apologize until you couldn’t stand it anymore, then he’d try to make it right.”
The corners of his mouth slowly lifted upward. “He borrowed a book of mine once and accidentally dropped it in a puddle. The book was ruine
d, and poor Eamon was beside himself. I told him he didn’t have to worry about it, but that wasn’t good enough. Do you know what he did to make it up to me?”
She shook her head, her gaze intent on him. “No, what?”
“Took a job at Folsom’s general store, stocking shelves and sweeping floors until he saved enough money to replace that book.” He shook his head, though his smile was still in place. “A good man in every way that counts. He’s married now to a wonderful woman, and he’s raising horses on her farm. He’s happy, and I’m happy for him.”
He said nothing more for a while as he assisted her down another set of stairs, across the street and up onto the sidewalk again. “Then there’s Brock. He didn’t speak.”
“Didn’t speak? Was he not able to?” She neatly sidestepped the fruit and vegetable wagon in front of Folsom’s.
“Oh, he could. He just didn’t. Not unless he needed to. If you had a secret and you just had to tell someone, you told Brock. That secret would never be repeated. Ever.” He chuckled again, and this time, his eyes were smiling, too.
“When I met Stevie Rae, his wife, she asked me if he was always so quiet. He was.” He glanced at her, that crooked smile firmly in place, and Ryleigh’s heart fluttered in her chest. Her belly quivered, too, as if a thousand butterflies took wing all at once. “But he could write. Poetry, mostly, when he was young.”
“He was the opposite of Kieran.” He grinned as they came to the end of the sidewalk by the Carlisle Cottage, but instead of turning around, he headed toward the bridge at the end of town. “Whereas Brock was quiet, Kieran could talk. And did. A lot. He was most like our father, but so different as well. Da was a dreamer, always chasing rainbows. Kieran never chased a rainbow in his life. He wanted more than anything to be settled. Like Mam, when he first saw this town, he was bound and determined never to leave again.” He stopped in the middle of the bridge and leaned against the railing on his forearms, his gaze going between her and the water flowing beneath.
A Kiss in the Sunlight Page 16