Today she had on a dark green T-shirt that she’d tucked into the waistband of her jeans. She’d taken off her jacket back at the breakfast stop and tied it around her waist. No, she definitely didn’t have a hard body. She was all soft, yielding curves.
“Oh! Coyote!”
He turned but missed the shot. “Sorry. Didn’t get it. I think that was the last one in the pack, too.”
“That’s okay. We’ll see more tomorrow or the next day. I’m going to sketch something tomorrow, too. It’s good we have three days before we come back out here on Monday so I’ll be used to everything.” She turned toward him with a wide smile. “Ready?”
She had no idea how ready. He’d been an idiot to pass up the chance to be with her. If he only had a week—hell, if he only had a day, it would be worth the price of eventually saying good-bye. In that moment, he knew what he wanted to do. “Do you have anything else going on this morning?”
“Nope. Just need to be at Sadie’s before noon. Why?”
He glanced at his phone. Plenty of time. “Then let’s take a different route back. I’d like to show you my house.”
Her eyes widened. “Now?”
“Yes.” As he looked into her eyes, he gave up any attempt to play it cool. “I want you to come home with me, Anastasia.”
Gradually the surprise in her expression was replaced by understanding.
He held his breath. Maybe he’d misjudged. Maybe after the way he’d behaved, she’d changed her mind about wanting him.
She held his gaze as a flicker of heat appeared in the depths of her amazing eyes. The flame grew stronger and a slow smile touched her full lips. “I should probably ask what changed your mind.”
“Well, I—”
“But I really don’t care. I would love to come home with you, Mac.”
The breath whooshed out of his lungs. “Thank God. I’ll lead.” He unconsciously nudged Cinder into a trot but immediately reined him in. “Sorry.” The way he was feeling, it was a miracle he hadn’t taken off at a gallop. But leaving her in the dust wouldn’t achieve the results he was hoping for.
“We can trot if you want.”
He turned in the saddle to look back at her. “We don’t have to. Walking is fine.”
“How much time will we save by trotting?”
“We’d get there about twice as fast.”
“Then what are you waiting for, cowboy?” She gave him a saucy grin. “I’m as eager to get there as you are.”
Lust slammed into him so hard that if he’d been carrying a condom like Vince had told him to, they’d be off the horses and making love on a saddle blanket somewhere in the bushes in no time flat. Good thing he’d had sense enough to ignore Vince’s rules.
“Okay.” He urged Cinder into a trot but kept checking on Anastasia to make sure she was all right.
She was more than all right. She owned that gait now that she’d discovered the musical connection. He caught snatches of the pop tune she’d used yesterday as she hummed in time to Jasper’s rhythmic hoofbeats.
Trotting cut down the time from ten minutes to five, but it was still the longest five minutes in the history of the world. He wouldn’t chance a canter, though. She’d only ridden it once with him holding her in the saddle.
He left the main path for a lesser one he’d discovered earlier this summer. They were getting close. He slowed Cinder to a walk and swiveled in the saddle. “Almost there.”
“You bought the Anderson place, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“They were nice people.”
“So I heard.” He rounded a bend in the trail and there was his house shaded by two large mesquite trees that dropped bean pods on his roof and all over his front yard. He didn’t care. The trees made the house look as if it belonged right there, tucked in under the branches.
“You’re nice, too, though.” There was a smile in her voice.
“Glad you think so. We’ll just put the horses in that little corral out back.”
“Okay.”
He headed over to the corral and jumped down to open the gate. He’d never used the corral for anything, but today he was really glad it was there. If he bought a horse someday, then he’d build a small barn. The metal-roofed ramada shading a portion of the corral wasn’t enough shelter from the elements, in his estimation.
As he quickly took off Cinder’s bridle and hung it on the gate, Anastasia rode through on Jasper. Mac walked over to her. “Let me help you off. Just take your feet out of the stirrups and I’ll do the rest.”
She shook her head. “I’m okay. I know I almost fell last time, but I’ll be ready for that. You don’t have to baby me.”
Tipping his hat back, he gazed up at her. “Believe me, I’m not babying you.”
She looked into his eyes. “I see.” With a knowing smile, she kicked her feet free and turned toward him. “You just can’t wait to get your hands on me.”
“You’ve got that right.” Lifting her down this time was a breeze because she knew what to do. And so did he, once her feet touched the ground. He gathered her close, tilted her hat to give him access and claimed that smiling mouth.
She kissed him right back, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising up on her toes as if to get closer yet. With a groan he pulled her in tight. The feel of her warm, supple body drove him a little crazy.
Maybe he should have waited to kiss her until they’d made it into the house, but she tasted so good and he’d been thinking about this kiss for a long time. Before he knew it, his tongue was in her mouth and his hands were cupping her sweet little ass.
Flexing his fingers against the seat of her jeans, he wished them gone. He craved her silky smooth skin. He wanted to explore, to lick and nibble his way over every moist, delicious inch of her.
She moaned and he brought her hips in line with his, fitting them together as he thrust deep with his tongue. Dimly he realized that if he wanted more than this, he had to get them both out of the middle of the corral and into the house. And he wanted more than this, much more.
Focusing on the ultimate goal, he slowly released her and stepped back. Gasping for air, he realized he was shaking, too. He’d better get a grip or their first encounter would be over way too soon.
Her hat was in the dirt and she was breathing as hard as he was. “We . . . We should probably . . .”
“Yeah.” The denim was severely strained over his crotch, but he managed to shove his hand into his pocket and come up with his house key. “Go on in. I’ll take care of the horses.”
“But I should help you.”
“If you don’t get out of this corral, I’m liable to grab you again.” He scooped up her hat. “See you in a minute, Twinkle Toes.”
She took the hat and left.
He resisted the urge to watch her go. That would waste time. Instead he turned to Jasper, who was eyeing him as if he’d lost his mind.
He sighed. “I have lost my mind, horse. That woman has fried every brain cell in my head.” He fumbled with the throat latch as he unbuckled Jasper’s bridle, but eventually he made himself focus on the task at hand instead of the reward waiting for him.
Yet that reward remained in the back of his mind as he quickly unsaddled both horses and propped the saddles on the top rail of the corral. He hung the bridles there, too and filled the water trough. He’d started out the gate when he realized how fast his heart was pumping. Pausing, he took a steadying breath. Better.
As he approached the house, he noticed Anastasia sitting on the front porch swing, her hat lying beside her. “You didn’t go in?”
“I unlocked the door, but I waited for you. You said you wanted to show me the house, so it felt wrong to go in before you had a chance to do that.”
His heart rate sped up again as he climbed the steps. “I don’t think I have the
patience to show you the whole house right now.”
“No?” She stood and the swing rocked gently.
“No.” He took off his hat and tossed it on the swing. “But I’d be glad to show you the bedroom.”
Her eyes darkened. “That’s fine with me. Some people think the bedroom is the most important room in the house.”
“It is now.” He held out his hand and she laced her fingers through his. He was more in control than he’d been in the corral, but his heart still pounded as he led her through the front door. He nudged it closed with his foot before continuing on through the living room.
“Nice sofa. And that lamp is pretty. I see you have most of the carpet ripped up in here.”
“Later.” He pulled her down the short hallway so fast that she started laughing, and that was perfect. Whatever this was between them—an affair, a fling, an adventure—it should be filled with laughter and joy.
Making love to her for the first time in daylight was perfect, too. Secret trysts in the dark weren’t their style. His east-facing bedroom windows weren’t shaded by the mesquite trees, so his king-sized bed was flooded with sunshine.
He’d splurged on a massive four-poster and it dominated the small room. At times he’d wondered why he’d felt the need to buy it. The reason had just walked in.
She surveyed the room. “Looks like you refinished the bedroom floor, first.”
“Had to before I could bring in the bed.”
“And my, what a big bed you have.” Her voice sounded husky.
“The better to make love to you.” Taking her other hand, he turned her to face him. He still couldn’t believe she was here. Her back was to the window, so the golden light surrounding her made her seem not quite of this earth. “You’re beautiful.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“Men aren’t beautiful.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her gaze traveled over him as if cataloging every detail.
Knowing her, she probably was. He’d finally figured out that she had a photographic memory. The pictures on her phone were just for backup, but she could study something and sketch it exactly later on.
Slipping her hands free, she stepped closer and traced the line of snaps down the front of his shirt. “Mac, I want . . . Will you let me undress you?”
“You bet.” He slid both hands under the hem of her T-shirt and caressed the warm, silky skin at the small of her back. “I fully intend to return the favor.”
“And you can do that when I’m finished. But I’ve sketched you so many times and I always wanted . . . I want to see you, really see you.”
He considered the implications of what she’d just said. “Are you thinking you’ll do a sketch of me later?”
“I might. Would you mind?”
He tried to sort through his feelings. “I’m flattered and everything, but . . . what would you do with it?”
“It would be just for me. Except if you want to take a look at it, of course.”
“I’m not sure if I’d want to or not.” He hadn’t thought about this aspect. Of course she’d want to draw him naked. Not right this minute, but eventually. She’d probably taken a class in that kind of art.
All right, then. He was already making himself vulnerable in so many ways just by bringing her into his house and his bedroom. If she wanted to memorize his naked body and draw a picture of it, so what? Letting go of her, he sat on the edge of the bed. “I can at least take off my boots.”
“No, I want to do that, too. I want to do all of it.” She dropped to her knees in front of him. “This is part of my fantasy, revealing you a little at a time so I can concentrate on the details instead of suddenly being confronted with you in all your glory.”
He laughed. “Anastasia, I’m an ordinary guy. I guarantee there’s not a lot of glory going on under my clothes.”
“That’s what you think.” She grabbed the heel of his boot and tugged it off. Then she pulled off his sock. “See there? Glorious toes.”
“Good Lord. If you’re impressed with my toes, then I can’t wait to find out what you think of my—”
“Exactly.” She smiled up at him. “I’m saving that for last.”
CHAPTER 20
Anastasia felt like a kid unwrapping a birthday present. She pulled off his other boot and sock. “I’ve never seen your bare feet before. They’re quite elegant.”
Mac braced his hands on his knees and studied her, his expression bewildered. “I’m glad to hear you like my feet, but couldn’t you admire them later?”
“I could. That’s how it’s gone in the past.” She cupped his heel and began a slow massage of his foot. “But I’m hoping this time with you will be different. Better. I want to learn about your body before we make love.”
“You’ll learn quite a lot about it during. Just sayin’.”
“Not your feet.”
“Well, no. But there they are.” He gestured toward his feet. “You’ve investigated them. I promise the rest of me will be fully involved. Certain parts more than others, but pretty much all of me will make contact.”
She switched to his other foot. “And that’s when you’ll be trying to give me an orgasm, right?”
He swallowed. “That’s the general idea.”
“See, at that point, I’ll be too distracted to take proper visual notice of your body. I’ll be too involved with the tactile experience we’re having touching and stroking each other. I’ll be busy responding to whatever you’re doing, especially when you start thrusting.”
“Uh . . .” He seemed a little shell-shocked by her statement.
“But we can forget my plan if you’re desperate.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m trying not to be.”
“You look desperate, though.”
“The thing is, nobody’s ever massaged my feet and now we’re discussing orgasms and stroking and thrusting, and . . . Yeah, I’m getting a little desperate.”
She was at a good angle to see what he was talking about. “Then why don’t I unfasten your jeans?”
“Good idea. While you’re doing that I’ll unsnap my shirt. Speed things up a little.”
“I guess you can.” She unbuckled his belt. “But I’ll bet the end result won’t be as good if you take your clothes off too fast.”
“How do you know?” His voice sounded as tight as the denim stretched across his crotch.
“I don’t.” Unfastening the metal button at his waist, she pulled down the zipper. Oh, my. Now she wondered if she’d be able to follow the plan. Underneath his cotton briefs it was obvious that he was richly endowed. “All I’ve experienced is tearing off each other’s clothes and then going at it.”
He sucked in a breath. “Uh-huh.” He looked quite ready for that program.
“I’m a very visual person.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“If I take time to look at you first, then the visual of your naked body will add to the pleasure of having sex with you. I won’t be going into it blind, so to speak. At least that’s my theory.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Wow.”
“I’ve never had the nerve to explain my theory to a man I was about to have sex with. I think that’s why the first time has always been a dud.”
“Oh?” He perked up at that. “A dud, huh?”
“For me, at least. No climax. But later, after I had a mental picture, then I could. Well, mostly.”
“You just sold me on the concept.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m declaring this a no-dud zone. Just tell me what to do.”
“Nothing.” His willingness to make love her way was so arousing that she couldn’t imagine having dud-level sex with him even if she couldn’t visualize every inch of his body. But now that she had his full coo
peration, she was determined to test her theory.
From where she knelt in front of him, she could reach the snaps on the cuffs of his shirt. She undid one and rolled back the sleeve to his elbow. Although she’d watched him do the same thing, being the person doing the uncovering of that muscled forearm was completely different. Because he’d turned his sleeves back often this past summer, he was tanned there and the soft hair was lightened by the sun.
She examined his large hand with its blunt-tipped fingers, fingers that would soon be exploring her the way she was exploring him. Her body hummed at the thought of where he would touch her. He had a scar on the back of his hand she’d never noticed before and she ran her finger over it.
“Barbed wire.” His voice was low and thick, as if his imagination was working overtime, too.
She glanced up at him. “Battle scar.”
“I guess.” His dark eyes were intently focused on her. “I have a few of those.”
Inside and out. But she wouldn’t say that aloud and remind him of things best forgotten right now. Moving to his other arm, she rolled back that sleeve. And he didn’t think he was beautiful. She had the urge to lean down and kiss the sculpted contours, but that wouldn’t be fair.
Uncovering was one thing. Kissing and licking was a whole other method of exploration. She anticipated the pleasure of that eventually, but she’d wait until later, after they’d worn each other out a little.
Reaching up, she unsnapped the front of his shirt and gradually unveiled his lightly furred chest. It heaved as she made her way to the last snap. “Are you okay?”
“I’m on fire and my balls ache. Other than that . . . yeah.”
His comment made her aware of a similar insistent throbbing. As she stood so she could take off his shirt, she realized her panties were damp. Apparently this was her kind of foreplay, because she was also trembling enough that she wasn’t doing a good job of getting his shirt off.
“Want some help?”
“No, and I love that you asked instead of just doing it. There. Got it.” She stepped back to get a better view of Mac, shirtless, and let out a long sigh. Perfect shoulders, perfect pecs, perfect abs.
Wild About the Wrangler Page 21
