It’s after eleven by the time I pull into the ranch. I leave the truck with an attendant and toss him my keys. Charlie’s still wearing her sweater, looking like she’s getting ready to tell me goodnight.
This might be tricky for her.
She works here.
We drift away from the offices. Once I’m sure we’re out of sight, hidden by the darkness and shadows, I pull her up against me and brush my lips by her ear. I don’t want this night to end.
Neither does she.
“Come back with me.” And then I can’t help nipping her lightly. “No pressure. Just come with me.”
She nods. I take her hand and we stroll toward the path to my cabin.
We’ve talked a lot. This is just as good. This quiet with her. This peace.
We’re also wading through an ocean of sexual tension. I open the door to my cabin and flip on a lamp. The light is soft. I release her and head for the kitchen. “Drink?”
She hugs herself. “Maybe that half glass of red wine.” She looks a little uncertain. “My doctor says it’s okay.”
I’m shaking my head. She doesn’t need to explain herself to me, but I know she cares what I think. “My sound guy’s wife’s doc told her the same thing.” I pull out a bottle of Caymus, one of my favorite Cabernets, and uncork it. Then I pour two full glasses.
She’s slipped those sexy little sandals off and made herself comfortable on the couch. God, I’ve been waiting to be alone with her all night.
Ever since I checked into this crazy place.
I hand over her glass and lower myself beside her. She takes a sip and licks her lips. I lean in and taste them too. Sweet Petals. So soft I imagine rose petals.
Hell, she’s got me spouting poetry. I mentally take a note. Rose petal lips.
Without taking my mouth off of hers, I remove the glass from her fingers and place it on the end table with mine.
Oh, fuck. She tastes so good. I can’t get enough. She’s bewitched me. She owns me. I peel her sweater off and trail my lips down her throat, her chest.
I can’t lie on top of her. I shift us so she’s straddling me. I haven’t enjoyed kissing this much since I was sixteen. She’s perfect. Her flavor, her scent, her ass in my hands.
My jeans are tight. Too fucking tight. I jerk my hips up, thrusting at her core. She grinds down. I pull her dress down, no bra. I want. This. Woman.
Her breasts are heavy, alabaster. Perfect. A few tiny pale blue veins spider out from her areola. I flick my tongue along them.
She cries out.
I latch on to one breast. She moans and grinds down on me.
And then something crazy happens.
I feel the baby kick. It takes her a minute to realize that I’ve timed out.
Not that I’m not still hard as hell, but this is new territory.
I cannot just fuck this woman.
It has to be more, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
She mews a little and drops her head on my shoulder. I remember the words she’d started saying before I kissed her earlier tonight. She said she hadn’t had sex in a long time. Something about her hormones.
I slide one hand down to her leg and slip it under her dress. Then I search higher. Her core is open to me.
So wet. Her panties are drenched.
