They both moaned as she took him deep inside her. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he took her mouth as she rode him, rising and falling. The friction was delicious, but soon Ethan gripped her hips and thrust upwards as she came down.
“Yes, sweet Jesus, baby, you feel so good.”
“So good,” she moaned against his mouth as the pressure inside her rose higher. It was so exquisite it was almost too much to bear, and Annabelle felt a sob build inside her as she felt herself shatter around him. His fingers bit into her hips as he thrust harder and higher twice more and then he too found his release.
“Sssh, now.” He hauled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist as she cried.
“S-sorry, I’m just…it’s just—”
“It’s okay, Annabelle.”
And for her, here in the arms of this man, it was okay, more than okay. Way too okay, if that made any sense. She felt safe here, at peace and thoroughly sated. At that moment she could have given this man anything, complete control of her life, her heart, anything he asked of her. That was a terrifying thought, or would be when she could move.
His hands stroked her back, brushed her head, and she wanted to stay right here forever, curled on his lap. This was a good man, a strong man, and one she had no rights to. He deserved better than what the Smiths could give him—had given him, she amended. He deserved a woman who had it all together and probably spoke the same silver-tongued drawl as him. She would be classy, and born to money and privilege like him. She certainly wouldn’t have earned her money at the tables, gambling, nor would she have a mouth on her like Annabelle’s, or come with the multitude of problems that she had.
“You okay, honey?” His hand cupped the back of her neck. It was a gesture he made often, Annabelle realized. It was his way of pulling her in to him, connecting.
“Sure. I just fell apart for a moment there, but I’m alright now.” She didn’t want to look at him, or move off his shoulder, but it was getting cold and she felt her skin pebbling with bumps.
“Let’s get some clothes on you.” He placed her on her feet and did up his zipper, then reached to help her, but Annabelle took a step backwards.
“I’ve got it, thanks,” she said, pulling on her clothes while his blue eyes steadily watched her.
“How’s your brother doing?”
She’d forgotten about him, her brother who was lying in his bed fighting the battle of his life. She’d forgotten he existed when Ethan had touched her. He did this to her, made her into someone she’d never been before, a woman totally and utterly bewitched by a man.
Dear God, she was in so much trouble.
“I need to get back inside. I shouldn’t have left him for so long.” Annabelle pulled on her sweater and smoothed her hair, then started back towards the house.
“You want to wait for me?”
She didn’t. She wanted to run and not stop until she could once again find that hard shell that was the façade of Annabelle Smith. The person she’d had to become when she’d realized the care and wellbeing of her brothers was in her hands.
“You go on in then, and I’ll bring your wash.”
She’d reached the back porch when he spoke. Turning on the first step, she looked back at him. He was standing beside her clothesline, tall and so gorgeous. There wasn’t a lot of sun today, but what there was settled around him, and her heart gave a vicious tug. Annabelle ignored it.
“You’re not touching my laundry, Gelderman.”
“Why?” His eyes were once again on hers, intent, searching.
“Because you shouldn’t.”
“Because?”
“It’s just not right that you do,” she snapped.
“I know what your panties are like. I’ve already been in them a time or two.” His smile was pure Gelderman, all teeth and flashing eyes. The smile he used to flirt with any woman looking his way. Of course there were always plenty of them around, doing just that, and that thought just pissed her off.
“I need to get inside, so you should leave.” The words sounded rude and cold, and after what they’d just shared, the anger that filled his eyes was totally justified.
“Thanks for screwing me, Gelderman. Now fuck off.”
She couldn’t deal with him now, or how she felt about him. Cooper chose that moment to call out, so she simply turned away from the Texan hunk and walked back inside.
Her brother was angry, his thin face shiny with sweat, fists clenched, as she walked into his room, and Annabelle wondered how you could love someone yet hate them at the same time.
