by Jennie Marts
Pulling the folded blanket out from under her, she spread it over them and cuddled closer in his arms. She grinned up at him. “I love the rain. And I can’t think of any other place I’d rather be.”
Damn, but he did like this woman. He more than liked her. He could feel the tendrils of love creeping into his heart like the deep ivy vines that covered the side of the farmhouse.
She tipped his chin down and kissed him. Her hands swept up his cheeks and wound their way into his hair, holding his head while she deepened the kiss, her body curving against his.
Even with no words, with only the language of their entwined bodies and the urgency of her kiss, she conveyed a message. A message that told him that he was worth it, that he mattered, that she trusted him.
The skies broke loose and the showers poured down, filling the air with the scent of wet earth and fresh rain, and as the storm raged in the sky around them, it loosened the hold around his heart. Like the rain was washing away the past and giving them—giving him—a clean slate. A fresh start.
A fresh start with Emma.
He pulled her against him, his hands—as if they had minds of their own—finding their way under her shirt. He needed to touch her, to feel her skin.
He didn’t think, didn’t consider if this was a good idea or not—he’d spent enough time analyzing and scrutinizing his decision—this time he just reacted, did what felt right.
And right now, nothing felt more right than having her bare skin against his.
He fumbled with the snaps marching up the front of her shirt, popping each one loose and exposing her stomach and her pale pink bra.
Groaning, he dipped his head, laying a row of heated kisses along her shoulder and into the cleavage between her full breasts.
Reaching for the hem of his own shirt, he didn’t bother with the buttons, instead he yanked both his button-up shirt and the T-shirt he wore under it over his head. All he could focus on was getting closer to her, connecting to her through their bodies, getting her skin against his.
She must have sensed his frenzy and felt it too, because her hands went to his belt buckle, wiggling it free then unzipping his jeans. Kissing his chest, his neck, the spot behind his ear.
His nerves went wild with want and hunger as he heard the soft sexy sounds she made, the quick gasp of breath, as he reached inside her bra to cup her breast and flick his thumb over the taut bud of her nipple.
A bolt of lightning shot through the sky, cutting through the rain that continued to fall. The thunder sounded a minute later, the rumbling boom rolling through him, barely drowning out the noise of his own heartbeat as it hammered against his chest.
Unable to wait a second longer, the intensity of the storm escalating the force of their passion, he sat up, pushing back the blanket and pulling off his boots, then wriggling free of his jeans.
Turning to her, he saw she’d already wiggled out of her shirt and bra and tugged off her own boots. Laying her back against the blanket, he peeled her jeans and panties down her legs, leaving her naked and exposed.
His breath ragged and his heart beating in rapid anticipation, he pulled her under him, pressing his bare skin to hers. Ignoring the cool air, the heat coming off their bodies keeping them warm, he kissed her again, his tongue slipping between her lips.
She tasted like strawberries, and he sucked lightly on her tongue, eliciting another soft moan of arousal.
Dipping his head, he kissed her neck, her throat, the hollow between her breasts. Her pink-tipped nipples pebbled—either from the cool air or arousal—and he drew the nub of one into his mouth.
Her hands grasped handfuls of the blanket, and her back arched to meet him as he circled her nipple with his tongue then sucked it between his lips. The harsh gasp of breath he earned only spurred him on, and his hand grazed over her waist and across her belly.
He glanced up at her, noting how her eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy and the way she bit at her bottom lip. Her legs parted slightly, which he took as an invitation and slid his hand between them, finding her warm and so deliciously wet.
Darts of heat shot through him, ramping up his own desire, and he knew he had to taste her.
Scooting down, he laid a line of kisses along her stomach, her waist, his mouth seeking her sensitive folds. Licking and sucking, he brought her to the edge, loving the way her breath came in quick gasps, and she clasped handfuls of his hair.
Every moan, every pant, every time she squirmed with want enflamed his desire, his hunger for her.
The sky continued to storm around them, the flashes of lightning only escalating their passion.
Unable to take another second, he sat up, grabbing for his jeans and pulling his wallet free from the back pocket. He’d stocked it with a couple of extra condoms that morning, just in case the need for one arose.
And right now, he had a need. A desperate need as he jerked the foil packet free, dropping the wallet onto the blanket in his haste to open the packet and sheath himself with its contents.
She watched him, her lips moist and slightly parted, catching her breath as he took care of business. Kneeling between her legs, he glanced up, awaiting her permission.
“You okay?” he asked, praying she would say yes.
Nodding, her head moving in quick bobs, she panted out her answer. “Yes. Now. Please.”
He slid into her, sighing as she surrounded him with a tight, delicious heat. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and everything else fell away. Everything except this woman, this moment in time, as they moved in rhythm with each other in a primal dance of ache and need, creating their own storm as the sky raged around them.
Drops of water fell through the leaves of the tree, dripping onto his back, but he barely noticed. All of his focus was on Emma, watching her face as he took her to the edge of desire, her soft sounds and the way she arched in to him.
Knowing he could illicit such emotion only fueled his own passion, and he thrust harder, increasing his tempo and speed until she was crying out his name and clutching his back.
Then he was gone, lost in the waves of pleasure rocking through him.
Spent, he fell to the blanket next to her and drew her into his arms. Pulling the other blanket up, he covered them, and she shivered against him.
The rain had finally started to let up, and the storm seemed to be dying down.
She cuddled against his side. “Holy cow. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a thunderstorm like that before.”
“Oh, was it raining? I hadn’t noticed.” He chuckled and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “I do believe you have worn me out.” Closing his eyes, he relaxed against the base of the tree, sated and content. And happy.
“The poor horses. They’re all wet.”
“They don’t mind. They stand out in the rain all the time. The saddles will be wet, though, so your jeans will probably be soaked clear through by the time we get back to the house.”
“Maybe I won’t bother putting them back on then,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Now that I would like to see. It would be a whole new version of ‘bare’ back riding.” Scanning the sky, he let out a sigh. “Speaking of riding, we should probably pack up and head back while the storm’s let up.”
She groaned. “Do we have to? I think I could stay here all night with you. Just like this.”
A warm feeling of happiness filled him as she curled tighter against his side. A feeling that he could get used to if he wasn’t careful. “I’d agree, if we had more fried chicken.”
She laughed, then her body shivered.
“And if I had another blanket.” He rubbed his hand briskly along her back. “Let’s get you back and warmed up. We can save the pie until we get back to my cabin, then I can build a fire and work on getting you naked again.”
Reaching for her clothes, she laughed again. “Pie, a fire, and you? You’re not going to have to work very hard.”
…
Thirty minut
es later, they plodded into the barn. The rain had started again, and Emma was soaked and cold. She shivered as he helped her down from the horse.
“Head over to my cabin—the door’s unlocked—and get out of those wet clothes.”
“You trying to get me naked again already?” She tried to laugh but her teeth chattered instead.
He wrapped a dry blanket around her from a stack in the barn. “I’m always trying to get you naked. But right now, I’m also just trying to get you warm. I’ve got about ten or fifteen minutes of chores to do then I’ll join you. I just need to get the horses put up and the animals fed.”
“I can help you.”
He smiled at her suggestion and leaned down to speak low into her ear. “Thanks, you’re a sweetheart to offer, but I’ve got it. It won’t take me long, and I’ll go quicker if I’m imagining you waiting for me in a hot bath. I’ve got a big old bathtub, and if you get the water started, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
His deep voice sent shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with her wet clothes. She dashed through the rain, crossing the yard, and let herself into his cabin.
The anticipation of being with him again had her nervous and jumpy, and she shivered again as she pulled off her wet boots and left them by the door.
The light above the sink was on, and she looked around the cabin. She was standing in one large room with a fireplace and living area on one side and a kitchen on the other. A large butcher-block island sat in the middle.
She could see two rooms off to the right, one the bedroom, and the other looked to be an office or study.
The room smelled like him—masculine. Like warm wood and an even hotter male—with undertones of pine and his aftershave.
The décor was western with lots of browns, burgundies, and blue, and she wondered if he’d done it himself. A large recliner sat next to a comfy looking sofa, an end table stacked with books standing between them. Peeking at the titles, it appeared that he enjoyed old westerns and modern spy thrillers. She smiled to see Charlie’s latest book in the stack.
Despite a few stacks of paper and a pair of moccasin slippers next to the recliner, the room was tidy and neat. The kitchen was clean and, peeking into his bedroom, she could see his bed was made. Impressive.
His bedroom was big with heavy oak furniture and a king-sized bed. Sparks of heat shot through her as she imagined being naked in that bed with him. It felt strangely intimate walking through his bedroom, but she could see the corner of the bathtub through the door to the master bath.
The bathroom was good-sized and modern. A large glassed-in shower with multiple heads was in one corner, and the deep soaking tub was centered between it and an oak vanity. It was obvious the cabin had undergone renovations. Had he done them himself?
He continued to surprise her.
She hadn’t expected the picnic supper and wouldn’t have imagined—even in her wildest dreams—that they would end up making love under a tree in the rain.
The afternoon had been one of the best of her life, and her body quivered in expectation of what the night would hold.
Turning on the water in the tub, she squirted some of Cash’s shower gel into the stream and masculine-scented bubbles formed on the water.
Peeling off her clothes, she imagined his hands on her as she stood naked next to the tub.
“Now that’s a view I could get used to.” Cash’s deep voice came from behind her. “Nothing like walking into a room and finding a gorgeous naked woman standing in it.”
Chapter Fourteen
A smile tugged at the corner of Emma’s lips as gooseflesh pimpled her skin. She turned and caught her breath at the sight of Cash as he stood in the doorway of the room.
His jet black hair was wet from the rain and curled around his neck and ears. He’d pulled off his shirt and boots and wore only his jeans. The muscles of his chest and abs were toned and ripped and still tan from working outside in the summer.
He was so perfectly male and ridiculously hot.
The sexy grin he wore on his face would have melted the panties right off her. Except she wasn’t wearing any.
She stood naked before him, bare and vulnerable, and it was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.
He tugged off his jeans and underwear and crossed to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and dipping his head to kiss her neck. The feel of his warm breath on her neck had her very core heating and clenching.
He must have been heating up, too. She could feel him go rigid and firm against her as his lips moved from her neck to her shoulder, and his hands reached up to caress her breasts.
She could die from the delicious torture of him touching her. Like seriously, die right here, right now. And she would die a happy woman.
But she’d rather not. She’d rather live, and feel, and experience every nuance of this incredible moment. Because for the first time in years, she finally felt like she was alive.
And she didn’t want to miss anything.
She shivered against him, her body filled with tingling anticipation.
“Let’s get in the tub and get you warmed up.”
Even though her hair was damp and she was naked, she actually wasn’t cold at all. In fact, she felt like she was burning from the inside out, on fire from his very touch.
How could she be cold when the hot cowboy standing beside her was generating so much heat?
He stepped into the bubbly water then sat down with his back to the tub’s edge and held out his hand to invite her in. She followed him in, pausing to adjust to the temperature of the water as she leaned back against him.
Holy hot bubble bath. His muscled arms wrapped around her, the water swishing against the sides of the tub and filling the air with the scent of his shower gel, and she sighed at the incredible feeling of sitting between his legs with his arms around her.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of concern.
She hugged his arms to her chest. “I’m more than okay. I’m over-the-moon happy.”
He chuckled, and she could feel the low rumble of his laugh on her back. Leaning forward, he nipped at her earlobe and spoke huskily into her ear. “And we haven’t even gotten to the good part.”
“All of this is the good part to me.” She laid her head back into the crook of his neck and tipped her face up to look at him. “I’ve never been treated like this before.”
“You mean treated to a bubble bath with a cowboy taking up most of the space?”
“No, not that. I mean I never have shared a bathtub with a man before, but that’s not what I mean. I mean I like the bath, I LOVE the bath,” she paused and set her hand on top of his, intertwining their fingers, “I mean, I’ve never been treated with this much care and attention before.”
He squeezed her hand. “You deserve it.”
“Why? What did I do to deserve it?”
“First of all, you’re a woman. And all women deserve to be treated with care and attention and like they’re something special. And because you are you. Emma, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I see a woman who cares about other people, who treats everyone with kindness and respect, who is strong and brave, and who is just discovering all those great things about herself.”
His words filled her, like warm tea fills a cup, their meaning reaching her brim and making her feel toasty and cozy all over.
And loved. Whether he felt that for her or not, she felt loved and cherished. All of this was new to her, but she was quickly getting used to it.
Which should have scared her. But it didn’t.
Because she didn’t care if this lasted one day or the rest of her life, she’d felt it, and now she knew what it was like to be treated like a gift instead of a possession.
“Thank you,” she whispered and tipped her head forward to lay a kiss against the side of his arm.
“Don’t thank me. I’m the lucky one.”
She rolled over, pressing her breast
s against his chest as water splashed over the sides, and gave him a flirty grin. “Not yet, but you’re about to be.”
…
A few hours later, Emma rolled over in bed, her eyes heavy with sleep, her muscles liquid and loose, and reached for Cash. But the other side of the bed was empty.
The bathtub had been foreplay, their bodies wet and slick as Cash found inventive new ways to arouse and stir her. When the water got cold, he’d toweled her dry, then carried her into his room and laid her on his bed.
The rain had started in earnest again, and the scent of it came in on the breeze through the open window. The sound of the thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed outside, temporarily filling the room with bursts of light.
The music of the storm was like their soundtrack as they explored and discovered new things about each other and new ways to create their own tempest.
Cash knew just how to touch her, to tease her, to bring her to the brink of release and to send her crashing over. And he taught her to do the same for him. Although not quite as many times as her.
She smiled into the pillow just thinking about it. The soft flannel sheets on his bed were comfy against her naked skin, and even though her body was spent, wrung out, and exhausted, just thinking about the bathtub had sparks of desire flitting through her and awakening the same spots that she’d thought were worn out.
Sitting up in bed, searching for Cash, she could hear the sweet tones of a guitar playing. Wrapping the sheet around her, she climbed out of bed and peered into the living room.
Cash sat on the sofa, naked except for a pair of boxer briefs, playing the guitar and softly singing in a low deep voice.
The room was dark, except for the flickering of the firelight, and the song he played was soft and full of melancholy, too low for her to make out the words. A short glass with a quarter inch of amber liquid sat on the table next to him.
She couldn’t have imagined a sexier scene.
And couldn’t believe that she’d just been in bed, being touched and caressed by that ridiculously handsome man. She padded over to the sofa and sat down next to him.
