A sigh parts my lips. “Please,” I hear myself say.
Before the word is fully out of my mouth, his lips cover mine. Pure ecstasy courses through my veins.
Joel leans in, his massive hand moving to cup my neck, while his thumbs rests underneath my chin, keeping my head tilted upward, allowing him to plunder my mouth at will.
His kiss is fiery and sensual and everything I’ve ever craved all at once. He pulls a hunger that I thought had burned out a long time ago from deep down inside of me.
I never want him to stop kissing me.
Except we do have to stop.
It’s the sound of Ol’ Girl’s pawing that finally pulls us apart. Joel quickly checks on the mare, but must note that she’s doing okay because soon enough he brings his attention back to me.
“He was a fool.”
He surprises me with this comment, but I don’t need to ask who he’s referring to.
“I know,” I reply, grinning.
“His mistake is my gain,” he says before his lips cover mine once more.
I indulge in his kisses, sighing and grinning because all of this feels so new, yet old at the same time.
“I shouldn’t try to devour you in here,” Joel says, finally pulling back from the kiss, but wrapping his arm around my shoulders to hold me to him.
I tuck into his body.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because, darlin’, the first time I make love to you it won’t be on a stack of hay in the middle of a horse barn like we’re a couple of horny teenagers.”
A guffaw falls from my lips.
“It sounds like you have experience with that.” I look up at him.
He grins but shakes his head. “Caught two of my sons before. Micah snuck in here with his girlfriend when he was sixteen, and then Gabriel when he was seventeen. Damn boys tried to give me a heart attack.”
“I can’t imagine what it’s like to raise boys,” I say, laughter filling my voice. “My girls were enough.”
He shakes his head, frowning. “It’s not for the weak. People say boys are easier but that’s bologna.”
“I used to say that before I had my girls.”
He pulls back, looking down at me. “Really? Why would you think that boys were easier?”
“I was young and dumb,” I admit. “I was nineteen when I met my husband. My mother raised me to believe that men should be catered to more or less, and boys were always easier to raise than girls.
“Then I had my girls.” I smile at the memories. “Shanice looked like such a little angel when she was born. From the beginning she slept through the night, breastfed well. It was almost as if she intentionally triednotto be a nuisance or give me any trouble.
“You hear those stories of how you have one kid and they’re so good and perfect it makes you want to have a second?”
He nods.
“That’s how it was with Shanice. And then we had Meghan …”
Joel and I laugh together.
“She was a pain in the ass, huh?”
