“Lanie,” he murmurs, leaning into my space.
My brain jams into some version of soup that has nothing to do with the climb and everything to do with the sexy-as-hell cowboy who stands before me.
“The climb wasn’t that bad,” I blurt softly, unable to come up with anything sensible under pressure.
“Yeah?” Cord huffs a laugh. “I thought I was gonna land splat on my ass on that last one. I’m impressed you didn’t give up.” He presses me against his harder frame, and a soft sigh breaks free as I stare up at him.
“I’m not good with people, Cord,” I whisper.
“Trust me, you’re doing fine,” he mutters back, tangling his fingers in my hair until I close my eyes at the sensation. “I’ve been dying to do that since I met you.” He dips his head so his breath brushes over my lips. “When I saw you this morning—hell, since I saw you at my door. It’s become a craving, needing to touch you.”
When I open my eyes, I find him so close, his gaze searching. I can’t reply, lost in the feel of him arched around me. My palms press flat to his chest, the rapid beat of his heart beneath hard muscle defying the outer sense of calm my stoic cowboy has going on. His fingers sink into my waist, delving into the curves there.
Desperation grips me. A man like this, with all the wealth, looks, and power that he can possess, will never want a broken, nomadic thing like me.
“I don’t do this well, Cord. I’ve spent too much time on my own.” My breath pants from my lips as panic takes hold.Dammit, Lanie. Just stay home next time.
He grins, pressing his forehead to mine. “Is that you asking me to take it slow?”
I shake my head. His fingertips work in light circles on my hips, sending a shiver from my nape to my toes.
“No. It’s just that sometimes I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t speak,” he murmurs, his lips brushing over mine once, then again.
A work-roughened hand curves around the base of my neck, tilting my head back. I hold his gaze for a second before my eyes shutter and his mouth presses against mine. Warmth surrounds me, like afternoon sunlight and the scent of sweet summer grasses.
Cord’s movements are slow and precise, giving the commitment-phobe in me every chance to freak out and run from him. I’m sure I test every inch of his tight-reined control when I?—
Stay.
My fingers slide up the front of his shirt, curling beneath his collar to tug him closer. Another groan escapes my mouth as his tongue traces my bottom lip lightly, then not so lightly.
Cord’s hand curves over my hip, holding me tightly to him. Every inch of our bodies molds to each other. A sigh slips free between us, either mine or his. I tilt my head back, granting him the access he needs. A deep rumble grows in his chest as I kiss him, gentle and sweet, until he sweeps his tongue into my mouth with a soft growl.
I can’t contain my gasp as he deepens the kiss and angles my head the way he wants. My body curves into his, arching to his need. Cord’s control frays the smallest amount, his kisses becoming rougher as he explores me. The leather-and-whiskey taste of him fills my mind as I soften in his arms, letting him have control as I wrap my arms around his neck. When he draws back, my eyes stay shut for a moment, and I sway a little in his arms.
“Lanie?” His lips graze my cheek, trailing kisses along my neck to where my jacket opens.
His thumb grazes the underside of my breast. Pleasure flares from the sensitive spot. I release a soft sigh and he echoes back an approving male sound. One hand supports my neck as I lean into him, letting him kiss his way up the side of my throat, his hand dropping to stroke along my ribs and over the curve of my ass to pull me into him. A soft sound slips between us and it takes me a moment to realize the sound is mine.
My head tilts forward, soft lips pressed to the cotton of his shirt. Heat flares across my cheeks, from desire or embarrassment, I’m not sure. But when I catch his gaze, all thought disappears and I’m lost in the intensity I find there.
Cord’s fingers find the waist of my jeans, dipping inside a little. I start and catch his wrist as he strokes the soft skin tingling there inan undeniably possessive, intimate gesture. He straightens, still holding me against him.
“You okay?” He kisses me with each word.
I nod but then shake my head, dizzy from his kisses. “You keep asking me that, and I have no idea.”
He traces his thumb tenderly over my cheek, curving beneath my jaw to tilt my head back. “It’s okay, Lanie.”
His heart beats slow and steady against my hand, now that the rush of desire between us has settled into a slow burning ember. Cord holds me up, his mouth seeking a searing path across my lips as he redefines in every sense kissing I’ve ever experienced.
And no part of me wants him to stop.
SEVEN
CORD
