Her hands left his shoulders and pulled at his pants. His belt unlatched with a clink and the button of his jeans gave at her tug. His zipper lowered. Finally, her hand was inside his jeans, rubbing over the bulge covered by a pair of boxer briefs.
Breathing hard, he pulled back and laid his forehead against hers.
“There’s nothing fake about how much I want you. Are you ready for me, darlin’?”
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.
Was she ready?
“I was born ready.” Her emphatic declaration garnered a twitch of the lips from him. She stared at those lips a beat too long while her brain worked on what she’d said. “That came out weird, didn’t it?”
“I like weird.”
“You’re in luck then.” When still he didn’t make a move to rip her panties off, she ignored her mantra about keeping it between the lines and drove straight off a cliff. “I’m ready for you to get me naked and take me to bed—or take me right here—Coach.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck smiled. A calm surety came over her. She’d already been more honest with him than she had with any other man, and she had a feeling he didn’t tell most women he thought about them every waking second. In the moment, it was enough.
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 bed.
Moonlight filtered through the trees and lent the room an otherworldly light.
His scars didn’t distract from the raw power of his torso. 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 spinning. He was huge . . . and magnificent . . . and huge.
“You’re beautiful,” she said on a harsh exhale, feeling like an idiot.
A laugh rumbled from deep in his chest as he shifted 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 and a healthy sense of self. She wasn’t gorgeous, but reflected in his eyes, she felt like the definition of the word. He dropped closer, 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 off and tossed 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 in turn, his thumb tormenting her nipples.
Her back arched, and she spread her knees. 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.
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.
“Hey, 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. No lace to impeded his explorations, and he took his time running his fingers over her folds.
The blessed torture ended when he circled the bundle of nerves at the apex and his big, blunt finger entered her. Her hips bucked and beyond embarrassment, she chanted a series of “yes’s” and “more’s” and “please’s.” He released her hands, and she clutched the bunched muscles of his shoulders, one side smooth the other puckered with scars.
Her body gave itself over to him, her mind blocking out everything but her impending climax. The crest approached, but instead of a familiar mild wash of pleasure, her orgasm hit like a tsunami, tumbling and intense.
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. I can’t take it.” She made a grab for his cock, but he intercepted her hand 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.” Her voice shredded with need.
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, disposed of 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. Robbie was a man with a capital M.
“Was it me or was that amazing?” Her voice lilted dreamily 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 away, but didn’t get far. 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. On a long exhale, he said, “No, I want you to stay.”
* * *
Ringing jarred her out of her warm cocoon. Withou
t 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 darted her eyes to him. He’d sat up, his feet on the floor, one buttock exposed.
“No problem. I didn’t have plans.” He swiveled his head 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. She only hoped some enterprising racoon wasn’t running with in her clothes. Her panties hung on a knob of his dresser across the room, and who the hell knew where her bra had ended up. At least it wasn’t dangling ignominiously from the ceiling fan.
She weighed the humiliation of hunkering down in his bed against wandering outside topless to wrestle her clothes away from woodland animals like some redneck version of Snow White.
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 sex-starved jezebel?
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 finally pried her numb fingers open 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 and sensuous. Before she could reign herself in, her gaze trailed over his chest, the blond hair glinting 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 tank 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. “Jake found another sounder of pigs, and I need to help root them out.”
“It’s fine. 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?”
“Of course, it does.” 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.”
“Sooo . . . 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 the same arousal coursing through her 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.”
He circled her wrist and tugged her forward. After brushing his lips over hers, he said, “No, thank you for having the courage to come see me.”
He rumbled away, toward the bridge over the river. She stared long after he was out sight and bird song muffled the growl of the machine.
She spent the week with Ada in Tuscaloosa on a cot in the corner. She cat-napped between scheduled checks from the doctors and nurses. While she composed a few sexy texts to Robbie, she chickened out before hitting the ominous, red send button. Instead, their texts were mundane and brief, mostly about football and Ada.
Finally, the doctors gave the go-ahead to move Ada to the rehabilitation center in Falcon. It was a compromise Ada made grudgingly, but the fact she made it all meant she needed the extra help. Darcy got Ada settled in her new room on Saturday afternoon. Darcy was sweaty, tired, and drooping like a willow tree. She couldn’t ever remember being so exhausted.
The team was headed out of Falcon for a Saturday night jamboree game, and she told Logan she could handle things. After all, he’d done the same for her when Ada got out of the hospital the first time.
A rap on the door startled them both. Robbie’s head popped around the side.
The move out of the hospital and closer to home had invigorated Ada. “Well, I’ll be. Come in here, young man.”
Removing his cap, he slipped in the door wearing crisp khakis and a Falcon High School navy blue polo.
Stealing a sidelong glance at herself in the mirror, Darcy rubbed color into her wan face and raked fingers through her lank hair. “Logan just left. You might be able to catch him.”
He nodded and fiddled with the brim of his cap. “I wanted to check on the two of you.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet? How’s the team looking for tonight’s game?” Ada asked.
“Strong. How’re you feeling, ma’am?” On his way to pay respects to Ada, he skimmed his gaze down Darcy’s body and back to her face. Crinkles deepened around his eyes.
Why did he have to see her looking like hell warmed over? Finding an elastic holder in her pocket, she pulled her hair into a messy ponytail.
“I hope to be home again soon, but this place is better than that hospital in Tuscaloosa. Sleep was hard to come by there, wasn’t it, Darcy?”
As if it wasn’t obvious by the circles under her eyes. “Not easy,” she mumbled.
“You going to stay here or at the house?” he asked her.
“House.” She drew the word out with equal amounts relief and longing.
“I’ll check on you both tomorrow. We’re loading the buses now.” The tense set of his jaw hinted at more to say. She got tangled in the blue of his eyes. What she wanted more than anything was to walk into his arms, rest against the solidness of his chest, and steal his strength.
“We’ll listen to the game on the radio.” Ada gave him a thumbs up. “Do us proud, Dalt.”
“I’ll surely try, ma’am.”
Then, he was gone, along with whatever energy Darcy had left.
After a few beats of silence, Ada spoke, “Well, well, well. What’s happening between the two of you?”
Darcy was as honest as possible. “Nothing serious. We’re having fun.”
Ada’s delicate eyebrows arched. “Fun? Yep, the two of you were really yukking it up.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Ada’s puffed-up smile had Darcy wondering, but her mind was mired in molasses, unable to nimbly question her grandmother. Ada shooed her home long before the game got underway. Darcy stumbled from the shower and fell into her bed with wet hair and the sun still shining.
15
Robbie climbed off the team bus wanting nothing more than to wash the sticky energy drink out of his hair a
nd off his skin. The win felt phenomenal. The soaking from his players? Worth every uncomfortable second.
Avery had licked his hands clean on the bus ride home, leaving him smelling of limes and dog breath. The sight of Sheila in the parking lot dented the euphoria of the win and the satisfaction of knowing Darcy was within city limits. Logan shot him a commiserating wince.
Her blue wrap dress a size too small and was split to her upper thigh. Her breasts bounced with each step. He would bet money she wasn’t wearing a bra. Several of his players stared over their shoulders at her ass. Zits were probably rising like volcanoes from the sudden onslaught of testosterone.
Sheila was the kind of beautiful that graced magazine covers. Darcy was naturally pretty and her effortless smile made his stomach feel funny. He didn’t want to examine the pathetic nature of that admission.
Robbie’s truck sat halfway down the parking lot. The sound of engines and raucous laughter filled the night air. He had five minutes or less to stage an escape.
“Nice game, Coach.”
“The boys played hard tonight. It was a solid win for our program.” He spouted the standard media answer.
She paced him all the way to his truck and cornered him on the driver’s side, away from the prying eyes of the team. Nerves had him fumbling his keys. Was she planning to jump him right there in the parking lot?
“I think you deserve a bonus. Would you like a bonus?” She ran a hand up and down the edge of the dress and fingered the tie.
“All I want at the moment is a shower,” he said truthfully if not a little desperately.
“I happen to have one of those at home.” She tugged at the length of cloth standing between her and the night air.
It conceded silently. The front of her dress peeled apart to reveal a strip of naked skin from neck to thighs. His gaze streaked down the landing strip between her legs and popped back to meet her eyes. Not a whisper of temptation or desire sounded in his ear, only the flight instincts of prey to predator.
Slow and Steady Rush: Sweet Home Alabama Page 16