B00DVWSNZ8 EBOK (15 page)

But he held her like a vise. "Jude, wait."

"I said let go of me."

She jerked against his strength again. Jaw clenched, she kicked at his shin with the toe of her boot, but he made a little backward hop and she missed. Quick as lightning, he loosened his hold on her wrists and she found her arms pinned to her sides by his and her body pressed tightly against him, as if she were wrapped in a straitjacket. His long legs bracketed hers, and against her belly she could again feel the ridge behind his fly.

She squirmed within his hold, but his strength was too much to overcome. She glared up at him, clenched teeth and hostile eyes her only weapons. "Let. Me. Go."

"Dammit, wait," he said again, only holding her tighter and capturing her eyes with his. "What I said didn't come out right. Jude, listen to me. What I meant to say was what sane man wouldn't want you? You had it right. That last hour of dancing just about drove me crazy."

She tried to move. "Let me go."

"Not 'til you calm down....Jude, stop fighting me and listen."

She stilled and looked up at him again. Though emotions she had never known careened through her, her body remained tight as a stretched rubber band.

"Jude, give me a break here. Right now, I'm your daddy's employee. And I really need that job. I can't afford to do...this….I’m not saying I don’t want to. I just can’t afford it."

Something even harder to bear than humiliation rushed into her—the realization of her own insensitivity and self-absorption. Hadn't he already told her the job at the Circle C was important to him? And hadn't she made this trip in secret because she knew the consequences if her father learned she was here?

She ducked her chin and gazed at his chest, her thoughts a blur. His pulse seemed to be beating even harder in the hollow of his throat. The physical struggle and adrenaline, coupled with the frustration she had already felt, had her own heart leaping as if it wanted to escape her rib cage. "I know, Brady. Honestly, I do know. Just let me go. Please."

He dropped his arms, freeing her, and stepped back. She couldn't make herself lift her chin and see her own mortification reflected in his face, but she felt his eyes boring into the top of her head, heard his ragged breathing. Her own breath was shaky, but no more so than the rest of her.

She barely found her voice. "This was stupid. I was stupid. And thoughtless. As you say, let's just go to sleep so we can get an early start tomorrow. The sooner I get home, the better."

Gathering her composure, she flung back her hair, walked across the room, picked up her duffel and started for the bedroom. But she had to say something, had to somehow acquit herself. She stopped but still didn't want to look him in the face. "I misunderstood." She swallowed, groping for words. "I, uh, thought you—you were attracted to me in the same way I was"—she drew a deep breath—"attracted to you."

"I'm attracted to a lot of things I know better than to grab on to," he said from behind her, his voice still rough.

A humorless huff blurted from her throat and she started for the bedroom again, all bluff.

"Dammit, Jude..." His hand caught her elbow.

She stiffened but let him draw her back and turn her to face him, let him clasp her jaw with his calloused fingers and lift her chin until she had to look up at him. Their gazes locked. His blue-flame eyes burned into hers. She could feel his warm breath on her lips. Seconds passed. Then his head slowly shook. "But God knows,
I've been known to take a chance." His mouth lowered toward hers.

She hadn't been wrong about the desire she saw in those
amazing eyes. She thought she could hear both their hearts beating in runaway harmony. His fingers moved down the side of her throat until his hand closed gently on her neck. "God," he whispered, "you're so damn..."

He leaned toward her again, and this time, she didn't try to escape. His mouth came down on hers and she didn't resist

His lips parted hers and his tongue slid into her mouth tentatively, as if he were testing for her response. He tasted of whiskey, but not unpleasant. His hands burrowed into her hair until they clutched her head and she couldn't have escaped his mouth even if she had wanted to.

Just as she suspected he might, he kissed her as no one ever had, making her feel
desired in a way she had never felt. Utter bliss exploded within her. Warmth pooled between her thighs and in the tips of her breasts, making them so achingly tight that an unfamiliar sound escaped her throat. Grabbing on to his shoulders as if he were a lifeline, she kissed him back with all her might.

He lifted his lips from hers, dragged them across her cheek and down her neck. "God, Jude,
I can’t believe it," he whispered raggedly. "You're as hot as I am."

He set her away, leaving her mouth feeling swollen and wet and her eyes searching his. Their breath
s rushed and shuddered, and their chests heaved, His eyes had become an odd violet color and lost their clarity. They now looked dark and sleepy.

"I always say the wrong things," she
murmured. "I don't mean to."

"I know," he said softly. “I
’ve already figured that out.”

He turned away, locked the front door and switched off the light, plunging them into total blackness.
Then he scooped her up as if she weighed nothing, settled her in his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. She clung to his shoulders and neck and buried her face against his shoulder.

The bedroom was so cool, it almost felt chilly. It was even darker than the living room. But he seemed to know the way through the blackness. The
low roar of the air conditioner drowned out sound, but not the echo of her heart thrashing in her ears. He laid her across the bed and followed her down. In a whisper of both their starched denim jeans and the dull thunk of colliding boots, his knee pressed between hers and pinned her to the mattress.

Though she was surrounded by him—his scent, his heat, his strength, his
blatant masculinity—she still felt a need to explain. "It's... it's just that... I wanted to..."

"Shh. It's okay."

His arm cradled her neck while his mouth cruised over her cheeks, down her throat. His hand skimmed her whole body, stroking, caressing more gently than she would have ever expected from a man of his size and strength. The more he explored, the more swollen and heavy her breasts felt inside her bra. All of her clothing began to feel binding. Even her skin felt too tight and too hot. She began to squirm and clutch at his shirt, trying to unbutton it. "Brady, can we...?"

He started to sit up, but she couldn't bear to have him part from her, even for a
few seconds. "Don't—don't go…."

"Just gonn
a turn on the light, darlin’."

"Do—do we have to?"

"You've never had the light on?"

"No. I mean, well, yes, but...I don't know what I mean."

"You're beautiful,” he said. “I want to see you. It'll be okay."

"Okay," she said, her voice coming out tiny.

He sat up and she followed him, hooking her arms around his thick biceps and pressing her breasts against it, laying her cheek against his shoulder. With his other hand, he reached over and switched on the stubby round lamp on the bedside table. Light not much brighter than a flashlight's cast a golden fan on the floor and on the edge of the bed. He opened the bedside table drawer, his capable hands spotlighted by the lamplight. He lifted out the black box of condoms she had left in the drawer earlier, opened it and spilled the contents onto the table.

An image of the woman named Ginger flitted through
Jude’s mind along with the certain knowledge that she and maybe others had slept with him in this very bed, but she refused to let a visual form. She wanted this and nothing else mattered.

His fingers came to her chin and he smiled. "
See? It’s a dim light. You don’t have to be nervous."

He kissed her sweetly, then reached for her foot and pried off her boot. His big hand closed around her foot in a caress as he looked at her across his shoulder for a few beats. Now she was glad he had turned on the light, even as a nerve jumped inside her stomach. She wanted to see him, too.

He tugged off her other boot, followed by her socks, and ran his fingers along the bottom of her foot.

Then h
is arms came around her and he held her for a long moment. He was good at hugging. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him back, basking in knowing he desired her. She sought his mouth with hers, their lips met and they kissed and kissed and his hands moved over her body until an audible soughing sound had replaced normal breathing and her very bones felt like warm liquid.

Eventually, the
y parted and he tugged at the hem of her top. "Help me take this off," he said. "I don't want to tear it."

With no hesitation, she yanked the knit top over her head. Her nipples tightened even more as the room's cool air touched her bare skin, yet her breasts throbbed with heat.

He ducked his head and his mouth moved over the mound of flesh above the edge of her bra. "I do love black lace," he mumbled against her skin, "but right this minute, it's in the way."

He delicately tugged the lacy edge down and exposed her nipple.
The naughty little nub was embarrassingly rigid and protruded over the edge of the lace. He plucked at it with his fingers and thumb and to her amazement, it grew impossibly long and she felt something going on deep inside her sex.

On a deep hum, he kissed and licked, drew the firm peak deeply into the wet heat of his mouth.

"Oooh," she breathed, closing her eyes as deep muscles she didn't know she had began to clench up inside her. She recognized pure pleasure She curved her hands around his head and held him in place.. He sucked rhythmically. The sensation was consuming and she wanted more.

His hand went behind her and she felt her bra release. In the far recesses of her clouded mind, a voice told her he was awfully practiced at this to be able to undo it one-handed.

"Don't ever think I don't want you," he said.

She thrilled at the words. "I won't. No. I won't."

Her bra went away and his large hand cupped her breast, plumped it and molded it while his mouth moved over it, his beard stubble rasping the tender skin. While he teased the one breast with his tongue, his fingers stroked and pulled at the nipple of the other. On a deep sigh, she tilted her head back and pushed her chest forward, making it easy for him to do whatever he wanted. That deep flex in her belly became an exquisite need. She had never felt such emptiness. "Brady, I feel funny. Inside. Should…should I do something?"

"Tell me what you want
, sweetheart."

"I don't know....Just something."

He chuckled softly against her breasts."Yes, ma'am. Maybe I can manage that."

His arm slid behind her and he eased her back on the bed, murmuring soft words made incoherent by the roar of the air conditioner. His hot mouth closed over her other nipple, and he drew hard, his breath humid and warm. Save for the
incredible desire for more of the same, every thought fled and she moaned softly so he would know how much he pleased her.

His hand slid down and she felt him undo her belt and tug at her zipper. The next thing she knew,
he was working her jeans down past her hips. When they would go no farther, he lifted his mouth from hers. "Lift up, sweetheart."

She dug her heels into the mattress and raised her hips. He easily stripped off her jeans and panties. And just like that, she was naked on his bed and his eyes and hands were roaming and stroking as if she belonged to him, and he was telling her she was soft as a kitten and beautiful, and heat was surging in every part of her body.

His hand slid inside her panties. His mouth was at her ear and he was whispering reassurances and wicked promises.

She felt so swollen
, so hot and damp. Drenched, even. Still, drunk with driving need, she opened her knees and he cupped her sex. His finger found her opening and slipped inside. Her muscles clenched around his finger. "Oh, Brady,” she said weakly. “I feel so—so…"

"
Being wet is a good thing, darlin’. This wouldn’t work if you weren’t."

He sat up again and tugged off his own boots, yanked off his socks. Shamelessly sprawled, she propped herself on her elbows and watched as he
stood and pulled his shirt from his waistband and began to unbutton it, revealing a strip of his chest an inch at a time. He unbuttoned the cuffs, peeled the garment off and tossed it away, his muscles rippling and bunching under his skin. She took in the full measure of his wide chest, lightly dusted with hair that trailed all the way to his belt buckle. She had a mental picture of where it ended....But in the poster, he'd had no body hair. Had he shaved it off?

He unbuckled his belt and shucked his jeans and shorts, his eyes never leaving her. His erection sprang free, only inches from her face. He was beautifully made from head to toe, and perfect. And he was
so large. Something dark spiked within her. She wanted to please him in the way her first fiancé had taught her. She eased off the edge of the mattress onto her knees, leaned forward and pressed her face against his groin. He went perfectly still. "Jude, don't..."