His lips hovered over hers.“Let’s see,” he said softly, and took his prize.
If every roping session ended with this sort of reward, he’d give up his banking career.He took everything her ripe mouth offered, and she was offering plenty.She wasn’t just hot, she was steaming.He shifted the angle of his mouth, then shifted again, trying to get deeper, trying to touch the essence of her.
She responded with a hunger that took his breath away.With a groan he tugged on the rope, snugging her against him.As he pressed his body to hers, he remembered how her hips had moved rhythmically as she rode in this afternoon.He remembered her passion this morning — the velvet of her breasts, the erotic taste of her.And he wondered if not making love to her, not ever making love to her, would drive him crazy.
Fear of that prompted him to finally lift his mouth from hers and loosen the rope.It dropped to the ground at her feet.“I’ve tried not to want you, Jo.”He gasped for air.“It’s not working.”
She lifted her arms and wound them around his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder.“I’ve tried, too.I thought about you all afternoon.”
“Good.”He continued to cradle her head as he stroked her back with his gloved hand.
“Not good.This can go nowhere, as you very well realize.Unless, of course, I blow your cover.”
“Don’t do that.Just make love to me.I’m developing a condition.”
“A condition?”She lifted her head to look into his eyes.“What condition?”
“Denim-tightis.It’s fatal if left untreated.”
A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.“I offered you sweats.”
“Cowboys don’t wear sweats.”He cupped her bottom and brought her tight against him.“They take care of the problem so their jeans fit right again.”
Her voice grew husky.“Do you think it’s that simple?”
“Probably not.”His aching erection sought her heat.“My jeans may never fit when I’m around you.But it’s worth a try.I really don’t think Brian Hastings would wear sweats to a country dance, do you?”
“No.”Amusement and desire flared in her eyes.But gradually her expression grew serious.“What I meant was that making love is not a simple solution to the problem in any sense.Just suppose we make love tonight.”
“I like supposing that.”His heart hammered as he rocked gently against her hips.“Let’s do suppose that.Let’s seriously suppose that.”
“Quinn, quit joking around.I’m—” She paused and cleared the huskiness from her throat.“I’m trying to make a point.”
“So am I.Going to bed may not be a permanent cure for my condition, but I’m willing to settle for symptomatic relief.”
“And then what?Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Fortunately followed by Saturday night.”He leaned forward and nibbled on her earlobe.“Another opportunity to treat my potentially fatal problem.”He ran his tongue around the pink inner shell of her ear.
She moaned.“The point is?—”
“Yes?”He loved the way she turned into a rag doll in his arms, so supple, so willing.He considered scooping her up and carrying her into the barn, except that Benny and Fred might still be in there, and what he had in mind required privacy.
She took a deep breath and attempted to push him away, but it was only a halfhearted effort.Her words came out in a determined rush.“The point is that Saturday’s your big coming-out party, which means it would be very advisable for you to leave on Sunday, before people get suspicious.”
He had no wish to think about the leaving-on-Sunday part.“Tonight could be the granddaddy of all coming-out parties, with your participation.”
“Quinn, will you stop thinking about your...problem and listen?”
“It’s hard.”He lifted his head and waggled his eyebrows at her.“Very hard.”
Breathless laughter trembled on her lips.“Honestly, you act as if you’ve never been sexually frustrated before in your life.Has every woman except me tumbled directly into your bed?”
“Not by a long shot.But this is not mere sexual frustration.This is sexual torture.To be more specific, I could represent my previous sexual frustrations by, say, a gnat, and my present one by, say, a wolf spider.”
“Really?”She looked sort of pleased with the news.
“I’m afraid so.”
