by T. J. Kline
She sighed and laid her forehead against his chin. He kissed the smooth skin of her brow. “I don’t want to talk, Chris. All we ever do is talk. I’m tired of talking.”
Chris tipped her chin up, leaning down and sipping from her lower lip. “Have something better in mind?”
“That depends,” she whispered, her voice husky as his mouth found the curve of her throat at her jaw. She gasped as his hand slipped up the back of her sweatshirt and tripped along the skin at the top of her thin camisole shirt.
She shivered against him and he felt the blood pooling in his loins, aching for release, and he groaned against her throat. His hand moved over her ribs as his thumb brushed the soft cotton covering her breast, causing her nipple to pucker. She arched against his hand, filling his palm with her, and cried out softly. His fingers sought the hem of her shirt, slipping below, intent on the prize of her heated skin beneath.
“Ali, you drive me crazy, you always have.” His need burned in him, making every part of his flesh tingle with icy fire. He wanted to confess the thoughts flitting through his mind like kids playing tag but his desire had hijacked his brain, making it impossible to think about anything but how good she felt in his arms. “I’ve waited for this for a long time.”
“For what?” she whispered hesitantly.
Chris let his hands fall to the curve of her rear and pressed her against him. “I need you, Ali. I can’t get you out of my head.” His fingers found her waist as he squeezed her slightly. “It seems like I’ve wanted you forever.”
CHRIS’S WORDS PENETRATED the fog of her desire. “What?” She pressed her hands against his chest as he tried to cover her mouth with his.
It didn’t seem to deter him as he pressed his lips to her jaw, nibbling at the tender skin of her neck. She fought against the shiver of delight that raced down her spine, twirling magically in her belly before curling through her limbs. Her fingers twitched, itching to slip under his shirt, to feel the expanse of muscled flesh she knew was underneath. Her mind and body warred with one another until her heart was able to be heard above the deafening pulse racing through her ears.
You deserve to be loved, not just wanted.
Alicia didn’t want to be Chris’s flavor-of-the-week, especially when the smoky scent of whiskey still clung to him. She couldn’t allow her desire to rule her. No matter how badly she wanted to give in to her needs, no matter how much her heart wanted to believe he cared for her, he only wanted her body. He’d as much as admitted his need for her was purely physical. Allowing this to go further would only make her exactly what Colt Greenly had accused her of being—a buckle bunny.
“Stop, Chris. I don’t want this.” She shoved against his chest and he stumbled backward, looking dazed. “I’m not some itch you can scratch.”
He frowned at her. “I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to.” She ran her fingers through her hair, ashamed of the way she’d let him touch her. What was she thinking? “Did you think I’d just jump into the back of your truck with you?”
She moved out of his reach as he tried to grasp her hand and pull her closer. She couldn’t risk losing herself to the longing again. To do that would be the end of all her resolve. She saw the muscle in his jaw tick as he fisted his hands at his sides.
“I didn’t think that. I came here because—”
“Oh, please explain,” she interrupted. “Because it seems to me that you showed up at my home at two o’clock in the morning, drunk, pounding on the door, waking everyone, hoping for a quick booty call.”
Alicia turned her back on him, unable to reconcile her assumptions with the hurt in his blue eyes.
His hands circled her waist and pulled her back against his chest, his hands clasping over her stomach. His breath against her ear was as hot as his hands burning her through the material of her camisole. She wanted to throw caution to the wind and press herself into his palms but she gripped her self-control with a tight rein.
“Ali.” Her name was a prayer on his lips, a husky whisper of sound against her hair, and she ached at the longing she could hear in the one word. “That’s not why I came.” Chris spun her to face him and his fingers found her cheek. “Did you break up with David?”
“Why do you even care?” She avoided meeting his gaze. “You aren’t my keeper, or my protector.” She bit the corner of her lip, regretting the hastily spoken words as soon as they spilled out.
He tipped her chin up, a playboy grin slipping over his lips. “I don’t want to be your keeper, Ali. I want to be far more than that, but I don’t want to steal my best friend’s woman.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and shoved him away from her and reached for the front door. “Why can’t you be serious about anything? Is everything a joke to you?”
“Ali, I love you.”
Alicia’s heart stopped in her chest as she turned slowly, her hand on the door handle, unable to believe she’d heard him correctly. In all the years she’d known him, she couldn’t remember him ever saying those words to anyone but his mother or sister. He couldn’t possibly mean them and she knew from the way he swayed on his feet, he certainly wouldn’t remember saying them in the morning.
I want to believe him . . . why can’t I just pretend he meant it?
Tears burned in her eyes as her stomach twisted and turned before knotting. “Give me your keys and go sleep in the barn.” She sighed, holding her hand out, feeling defeated and worn out from the emotional turmoil of the past eight hours. Chris dropped the keys into her hand and grasped her wrist, pulling her against his chest.
“Ali, say something.”
She twisted her wrist, loosening it from his fingers, and stared into his eyes. Everything in her wanted to stay with him, to let him convince her, but it would all be a lie.
“You want me to believe you? Say it sober.”
CHRIS WOKE WITH his head throbbing painfully. “I’ve got to stop mixing my alcohol,” he groaned, pressing the heel of his hand to his eyes as the morning sun greeted him painfully through the doorway.
The soft whicker of the horses alerted him to someone in the barn and he sat up, dropping his head in his palms with his elbows braced on his knees. He looked up to see Ali standing in the doorway, holding a cup of steaming coffee. She was a breath of fresh air in her hot pink t-shirt and jeans with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Memories of last night came rushing back at him—kissing her, nearly losing control, practically assaulting her on the front porch before telling her he loved her. Chris sighed against his palms and peeked at her again through his fingers.
She came closer and smiled down at him. “Don’t worry, Chris, I won’t hold you to anything you said last night.” She held the mug out to him. “You weren’t exactly yourself.”
He could either pretend he didn’t remember any of last night or he could cowboy up and tell her the truth. His fingers slid over hers as he took the coffee and he pulled her down to the worn couch beside him. Chris rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, wondering how to best voice his feelings without looking like an even bigger fool than he already did.
“Here, take these, too.” She dropped two aspirin into his hand. “I guess this makes us even for the way you took care of me.”
Chris tossed them into his mouth and washed them down with the brew, grimacing as his head and stomach revolted. “Ali, about last night,” he began.
She laughed quietly. “Don’t worry about it. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t forgive a little drunken rambling?”
Rambling? Was he remembering what happened, or what he’d wanted to happen? Had he been so drunk she hadn’t understood him? His memories couldn’t be that far off, could they? He didn’t think so, but then again, he’d had a lot to drink before David called him, accusing him of sabotaging his budding relationship with Ali. He wasn’t about to wait for them to make up and miss another chance so he’d rushed over to her house. It was a stupid thing to do in his condition, something he�
�d sworn he’d never do, and he was lucky Ali hadn’t let him drive home.
“What exactly happened last night?” He sipped the coffee, watching her fidget on the couch beside him. “Because what I remember isn’t lining up with what you’re saying,” he admitted.
She shrugged and started to stand but he laid his hand on her thigh and she froze. Chris set the mug on the floor. “I remember your mom answering the door.” He turned and stared at her mouth. “I kissed you.”
She bit her lip as if she didn’t trust herself to say anything but her chest rose and fell like she was trying to catch her breath. He felt his erection throb to life and he forced himself to remain still. She wouldn’t meet his gaze and it was driving him crazy.
“You kissed me back.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his gaze and his pulse throbbed through his veins when she didn’t deny it.
“I told you I love you.” Chris could see the fear shadow her beautiful brown eyes and reached for her hand. He swallowed his pride and pressed on. “I meant it last night and I mean it now.”
“Don’t,” she whispered, slipping her hand from his grasp and holding it up to ward him off. “Please, just don’t.”
He reached for the hand she held out and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Don’t what?” He pulled her toward him, his lips finding the racing pulse at her wrist. “Don’t kiss you?” His hand slid to her waist, his finger trailing up her ribcage. “Don’t touch you this way?”
Chris pulled her against him, practically into his lap, and found the curve of her jaw with his lips. “Don’t love you?” He touched his finger to her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Ali, I can’t help that. I’ve never been able to help that.”
Chapter Thirteen
* * *
ALICIA COULDN’T BREATHE. She was too afraid that any movement might wake her from this dream. When she got up this morning, she convinced herself Chris’s declaration had been the liquor talking. As much as his lips and hands could drive her insane with desire she had to keep a distance between them that would be safe for her heart. If she didn’t, she was certain to end up with nothing more than broken shards. If the flutter against her ribcage was any indication, she was already a goner.
Finding him sitting on the couch, his face in his hands, looking despaired, jarred her. She’d never seen him look lost before, or so pained, and her heart went out to him. His eyes seemed to delve into the depths of her soul, reaching for the truth she’d buried there, hidden from everyone. Or so she’d thought. Over the past two weeks, every moment she’d spent near him seemed to unearth her feelings a bit more until she sat with him now, completely exposed and vulnerable. His hand cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing gently over the skin, sending ripples of burning desire down her spine to her core, settling in and creating a swirling need like she’d never known. Her love for this man was bound to consume but she didn’t have the will to turn him away again. She’d already fought it for too long. They’d already come too far to go back now.
“Tell me what you don’t want me to do because I honestly don’t think I can stop myself from doing any of those things.”
Chris didn’t give her a chance to respond before his mouth was on hers, giving as much as he was taking. She wanted to push him away, remind him of every reason why they shouldn’t be together, but she couldn’t seem to conjure up even one. Nothing seemed to matter right now as her heart pounded in her ears, her eyes seeing only Chris. She needed this man, like the day needed the sun, and she couldn’t deny herself this moment any longer.
Chris shifted, leaning over her, his hands searing her though the sides of the thin cotton t-shirt. His mouth met hers and she matched him perfectly, taking all he offered. Her fingers buried into his short hair, drawing him closer. She wanted to feel herself pressed against every inch of him. Hearing the words from him had released the dam of emotion she’d been trying to hold back far too long and they threatened to drown her. Alicia’s fingers slid under the back of his shirt, desperate to feel his heated flesh under her palms.
Chris groaned against her mouth, his tongue delving inside as her hands slid over the hard ridges of muscle, her fingertips trailing over his spine. She felt the gooseflesh rise over the skin of his back. Desire surged through her as he laid her back on the couch, his entire frame hot where it touched her. Chris’s hand slid up the side of her shirt and his thumb brushed the taut nipple, the minimal covering her bra provided only heightened his touch and she arched against him, unable to stop the agonized cry that left her lips as his fingers curved around her breast.
Alicia clung to him, her hands memorizing the curves and valleys of muscle, her hands caressed his chest before playing over the ripples of his abdomen. He growled, barely tearing himself from his assault on her mouth to reach one hand behind him, and yank the shirt over his head, throwing it aside. Chris looked down at her, pulling the hair band from her hair, letting it fall like a dark curtain through his fingers. It hung loose over the arm of the couch. Her eyes fell to the tattoo on his bicep.
“You’re right.” She let her fingers trail over the dark lines. “It’s incredibly sexy.” She smiled up at him, expecting to see victory in his gaze.
Instead, she saw hunger in his gaze, the smoldering lust she knew was reflected in her own and trepidation. “Ali, if you want me to stop, now would be the time. I know this is all sudden and . . .”
Alicia cupped his jaw for a moment before wiggling out from under him. She walked toward the doorway of the tack room and slid the door shut. Leaning back against the door, her hands tucked behind her at her lower back, and sought answers in his eyes. His blue eyes were filled with every bit of the hunger she felt but there was more in the depths, darkening them into seas of tender adoration. It chased away her fear and reservations. She had barely said anything to him, remaining quiet even after his declaration, still uncertain of his sincerity, but seeing the anguish in his eyes was enough to overrule her logic. With his heart laid bare, she could read everything in his eyes she needed to make a decision.
Alicia grasped the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, dropping it on the ground, and covered the three steps between them. She straddled his lap and cupped his beard-roughened face in her hands.
“Chris, I’m still not sure this is a good idea but I’ve never wanted anything more.” She lowered her face until her lips were a breath from his. “I don’t want you to stop.”
Alicia sucked his lower lip between hers and he allowed her to take control, his hands running up her spine and curving over her shoulders. She ran her hands over the muscles of his chest, loving the way the sinew tensed under her caress. Her eyes slid over him, appreciating the sheer masculine perfection of his physique, chiseled from years of physical labor and riding. She lifted her eyes back to his and could see his barely restrained yearning.
“Ali, you’re killing me.” He gave her a lopsided grin and slid his hands up into her hair, drawing her to him and burying his face against the soft flesh between her breasts. The rasp of his jaw scratched against the sensitive skin deliciously and she gasped at the pleasure.
Chris pressed a gentle kiss on the upper curve of her breast, sending spirals of eager longing to her core. She arched into his hands as he cupped her breast, his thumb brushing the peak until she moaned deep in her throat. His fingers brushed the strap of her bra from her shoulder and his head bent to taste her. He nipped and kissed her collarbone, making her shiver against him.
Deftly, Chris twisted his fingers at the back of her bra and looked surprised when nothing happened. She laughed quietly, leaning backward, using his hands at her back to brace her, and could feel his erection straining against the denim of his pants.
“I thought you were supposed to be good at this,” she teased and he froze.
As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. They only served to remind her of just how many women Chris had actually been with. She was just one of several. The smile died on her lips and she st
iffened in his hands.
As if reading her thoughts, Chris tipped her chin up and looked deep into her eyes. “Ali, look at me. It’s only us now. I have never wanted another woman this much. And I have never, ever, told a woman I love her.” He gently kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.
She wanted to say the words back to him, to tell him how she’d felt for years, but she held that piece of her heart back. When he changed his mind, when he decided this was too much, too serious for him, she didn’t want him to know he was taking her broken heart with him. A sad smile curved her lips as she leaned back again and reached for the clasp between her breasts. She might not be able to hold him but this stolen moment would be enough. It had to be.
She unclasped her bra, letting her breasts fall into his hands, her gasp caught by his mouth on hers. Nothing in her life had ever felt this good. She wasn’t inexperienced but no man had ever scattered her senses or made her shake with need the way Chris did. He dipped his head to taste her, his hands curling around her shoulders as she grasped his biceps, holding on as if he was her lifeline.
White-hot pleasure shot from his lips throughout her body, making her throb, and she squeezed her thighs around his hips. He growled, drawing her close, his tongue flicking against the hard peak before taking her into his mouth sucking, biting, laving the delicious pain away.
“Chris, I’ve already waited too long for you.” Her fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans and he laughed against her flesh, standing and turning so she was seated on the couch.
He unbuttoned his pants and slid them over his thighs, just as muscular as the rest of him from life in the saddle. He knelt in front of her, dragging a finger between her breasts over her flat stomach, and unbuttoned her jeans, lifting her hips to pull them down her slim thighs before slipping her boots off. She could see his arousal as his eyes caressed her, sliding from her eyes to her breasts and down to the cotton underwear that matched her cast aside bra. His finger toyed with the lace at the edge and gave her a wicked grin, arching his brow.
