by Maisey Yates
“You read my mind. I want to live dangerously, but not in underwear that’s been on the floor of a barn.”
“Fair enough.”
She took a step back and leaned up against the wall. “I saw this somewhere once.”
Shame pricked the back of his neck. “Carly . . .”
“No, don’t . . . don’t feel bad, it’s . . . I’ve never been able to say this before so you’re going to have to let me say it without interrupting.” She took a breath. “I’ve thought about this. Wondered how it felt. What it would be like to be the woman, the person, who was brave enough to just take what I wanted in the moment and not worry about . . . anything. Not worry about anything but what I wanted. I want to be that woman now, with you.”
She started to unbutton her shirt and he watched, his heart pounding hard, his cock so hard he was afraid he might end up with permanent damage.
“You might want to leave the shirt on,” he said. “Splinters.”
“Right.”
He took a step toward her and cupped her cheek, kissing her deeply. He moved his fingers up her inner thigh, sliding them over her wet heat, drawing moisture from inside of her and rubbing it over her clit.
She arched into him, breasts pressing against his chest. “You’re good at that.”
He chuckled, parting her the edges of her shirt, leaning in and sucking her nipple through her bra while he continued to stroke her. “Nice to know it’s working for you.”
“Oh, yeah.”
He pushed a finger inside of her and her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his back. “I have to make sure you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” she said, panting.
“I’m not convinced.” He added a second finger, still teasing her clit with his thumb.
“Lucas.”
“Just a little more. You like it, just enjoy.”
“So . . . arrogant.”
“Yep. But you like that too.”
He kept his eyes on hers, watched the color deepen in her cheeks. “Tell me you like it,” he said. He stilled his hand. Waited.
She dug her nails into his shoulders. “Lucas,” she gasped.
“Tell me you like that I’m an arrogant son of a bitch.”
“No.”
“Tell me, or you don’t get to play anymore.”
He wasn’t sure why it was important that he won this battle. Except maybe he just wanted to hear that she liked him. Maybe she was right. Maybe there was a playground element to their relationship. Though, right now, her body was more fun than any playground he could ever remember.
“Touch me,” she said, a distinct, pleading note in her voice now.
“Not until you say it, sugar.”
“I like it.”
“You like what?” he asked, tantalizing her with another sweep of his thumb.
“I like it that you’re an arrogant son of a bitch. I like you. Now keep touching me.”
He chuckled, relishing the victory and making good on his promise as he worked his fingers in and out of her body until she stiffened against him, internal muscles pulsing around him.
The force of her orgasm, the evidence of it on his hands, nearly made him come then and there. But not yet. He needed more. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, taking out the condom packet and holding it up between his thumb and forefinger.
“I want you to know,” he said, “I put this in there this morning, and it was with you in mind. So you can be mad about this being somewhat premeditated, but I don’t want you thinking I just carry these around with the aim of hooking up, that I intended to use this with just anyone. It’s for you. For this. I’ve actually never done this in a barn. What you saw didn’t make it as far as we’re going to.”
She nodded, biting her bottom lip.
He reached down and undid the snap on his jeans, lowering his fly carefully, and tugging his erection free. He rolled the condom on and pressed his body against Carly’s, kissing her deep and long before hooking her leg over his hip and testing the entrance of her body with the head of his cock.
She was so hot, so wet, and the tip of his shaft slid in easily.
He gritted his teeth, trying to take it slow, trying to be gentle because of her inexperience. But she was panting in his ear, her hands moving over his back. Then she kissed his neck, flicking his skin with the tip of her tongue.
“Careful, Carly.”
“This isn’t the time for careful. This is dangerous, remember?”
She slid her hands down his back and below the waistband of his pants, planting her hands on his ass and gripping him tight, urging him on. And he obliged, taking every last ounce of his control not to explode the minute he was buried inside of her.
“Oh . . . damn, baby.”
“I was going to say the same thing,” she said.
And then neither of them said anything. He got lost, in everything. In her scent, in the feel of being deep inside of her, in the hot, hard rhythm of thrusting into her, of her arching against him, countering his every move, the flex of her hips making her tighten around his cock. Driving him closer to the edge.
Not yet. He had to make her come one more time. And then, then he could lose it. But not before that.
Her movements quickened with his, nails digging into his skin, hard. And then there was no thought of hanging on to control anymore, there was no more thought, just his blood roaring in his ears, a flash-fire of pleasure that poured through his veins, burning through him, raging. Dimly, he heard himself groan, heard her sharp cry, felt her pulse hard around him, and then he put his hand flat on the barn wall and tried to use it to brace himself. To keep his knees from buckling.
Then he heard the sound of the birds outside. Felt the breeze coming through the half open door.
“Damn,” he said. “We have to get dressed.”
He eased away from her and started straightening his pants. “Shit,” he said.
“What?”
He tugged off the condom. “I didn’t think this part through. And I’m not leaving it for someone else to deal with.”
She screwed up her face. “Oh, no.” Her eyes brightened. “Oh! Wait.” She reached down and lifted her purse from the barn floor. “I have a little first aid kit for emergencies. In a plastic baggie.” She fished around and produced a sandwich bag filled with bandaids, a couple of pill bottles and some topical medicine, then she dumped the contents into her purse. “Here. I’ll trade you for my panties.”
He took the bag from her hands. “Nope, I’m keeping those.” He turned away from her and took care of the condom, then tucked the bag into his other pocket.
“I need them, Lucas,” she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I can’t . . . go without.”
“Why?”
“I have work to do.”
“So work. Without them. And remember why you don’t have them.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I’m hardly going to forget.”
“Live dangerously.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts. “All right. Fine. No panties. I can do that. No one will know.”
He turned away from her, headed back toward the entrance of the barn, then he paused. He looked back, winking at her. “I’ll know.”
And he would think of it for the rest of the day. Until tonight, and dammit, there would be a tonight. He wasn’t letting her get away that easily.
Chapter Seven
Carly’s body was still burning hours after her encounter with Lucas. She couldn’t believe what she’d let him do. No, what she’d begged him to do, in a public place. While she was on the job.
She tore up pieces of lettuce with more aggression than was warranted and threw them into the wooden serving bowl that was sitting on the counter. She had dedu
cted the time spent with Lucas from her work day. She was not allowing herself to get paid for that steamy half hour in the barn. That was just taking it all into a territory that was best avoided.
And she’d spent the rest of the day without panties. And damn if it hadn’t turned her on. It had done just what he’d hoped it would do. Had put her mind right back there in the barn with him.
Of course, before she’d come to Mac’s house she’d stopped by her house and put a pair on. There were limits to her debauchery.
She was completely weak where Lucas was concerned. So why didn’t she feel weak? Why didn’t she feel like she was on the edge of losing the essence of herself? Because that was truly what she’d always imagined an intense, passionate relationship would do to her.
She’d always been afraid she’d turn into her mother.
She picked the bowl up and walked it over to the dining table. Mac had invited her over for dinner again, which really meant he was hungry and wanted her to cook for him. Well, she was sure he wanted to see her too; she just knew his appetite had been a factor.
Mac walked in, right on time. “You need a new housekeeper,” she said. “I’m not cooking for you for all eternity. And I’m definitely not doing your laundry again. You’re a grown-up, you know.”
“I know.” He sat down at the table. “Lucas is on his way. Play nice.”
Heat flashed across her skin, creeping up her neck. “Lucas is coming?”
“Yes. I invited him.”
So, Lucas hadn’t invited himself. But he’d been planning on coming over tonight, later. Or having her over. Not that she’d agreed. Diving headfirst into an affair with him hadn’t really been her plan. But then, the one-night-stand thing clearly hadn’t worked out either, so she really had no idea what in the hell they were doing.
“Okay.” She turned to the cupboard and got down an extra plate. “Tell me next time so I make enough food.”
“You made enough for a small army. It was like you were expecting him.”
She paused. Yes, she had. Interesting that she sort of naturally made room for him. Or not that interesting. He’d always been there when they were kids. There had been a time when cooking for Lucas and Mac was normal.
“How’s everything going with Ride for Hope? Lucas mentioned you two were working together on some things.”
She nearly choked. “Uh . . . yeah. Everything’s going good.”
“You two at each other’s throats?”
An image of earlier today, of licking Lucas’s throat, passed through her mind. “No.”
“That’s good. He’s not a bad guy, Carly. I don’t know why you don’t like him.”
And another little flash, of her telling Lucas just how much she liked the way he stroked her . . . “I like him,” she said.
“You don’t act like it.”
More flashes, his hands on her skin, his mouth hungry on hers.
“Oh, I do sometimes,” she said.
There was a knock at the door. Lucas was knocking. Giving her a warning maybe, which was unexpectedly considerate of him. Or maybe it wasn’t all that unexpected.
“I’ll get it.” She dashed across the room and to the door, tugging it open. “Hi, Lucas,” she said, bright, casual. Probably too bright and too casual.
“Carly,” he said, inclining his head, taking off his hat as he crossed the threshhold. “I thought you might be here.”
“And I didn’t think you would be here.”
“Is it okay if I stay?”
“Why would you ask that?” she asked, still smiling. “You never ask that.” He wasn’t acting natural. He was being too nice.
“My mistake. I was testing out this thing they call manners. You may have heard of them.”
A rush of relief went through her. “Yes. I’m just surprised you have.”
“Behave, you two,” Mac said.
She and Lucas exchanged guilty looks. “Promise,” she said.
Lucas’s eyes never left hers. “I’ll behave. For now.”
She shivered, the heat of his words flowing over her skin. “Lucas,” she muttered. It sounded sexual to her, and while she knew it probably wouldn’t to anyone not in her head, it made her feel very awkward.
Not that much could make the evening more awkward.
“Okay, dinner’s ready, have a seat.”
She ushered Lucas to the table and took the seat across from him. She let him and Mac fill the silence with conversation. And she found her gaze continually wandering to Lucas. To the way his Adam’s apple moved when he talked. To the square cut of his jaw. The long dark lashes that framed his eyes. How had she missed those? How had she not realized just how perfect he was?
She blinked rapidly, that thought pulling her back to reality. She turned her focus back to her dinner.
“Do you have a venue for the Ride yet?” Mac asked.
Her focus flew back up, her eyes clashing with Lucas’s. “Yes. We do. I mean, the council does. Not . . . we. It’s not like it’s just the two of us working on this or anything . . . anything like that.” She could’t have sounded more suspicious if she’d tried.
“Okay,” Mac said, looking between the two of them.
“Well,” she said, standing suddenly, “I have an early morning, so I should get going.”
Lucas stood too, his plate in hand. “So do I. On the ranch.”
“You always have an early morning,” Mac said, keeping his seat.
“It’s earlier tomorrow,” Lucas said. “I have calves to . . . castrate.”
“Not by yourself,” Mac said.
“Oh, no, I have help.”
“You should have asked me,” Mac said.
“As much as I know you like the process, I figured I’d pay some guys to do it,” Lucas said, the lie growing. “You know, since you have your own operation to run and all.”
Mac grunted. “Suit yourself.”
Carly scurried to the counter and set her plate down before returning to the table, bending down and dropping a kiss on Mac’s cheek. Guilt ate at her. But there was no point in Mac finding out about her and Lucas because, really, there was no her and Lucas. There was . . . whatever this attraction was between them. An attraction that was currently burning out of control.
The honest truth was, she didn’t think she could keep sitting in the same room as Lucas without mentally undressing him, and without it being very obvious to anyone looking at her.
And it was just too damned awkward to sit across from her brother while she was in the throes of deep sexual longing for the man sitting next to him.
“Right, well, good night, Mac. Good night, Lucas.”
She turned and walked out of the dining area, and out the front door, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding the minute she hit the cool night air.
She was unlocking her car when she heard the front door close behind her.
“I’m curious, sugar.”
She turned and looked at Lucas, her heart in her throat. She should tell him no. She should tell him it wasn’t happening again. She should end it before it got more complicated. Before she got hurt.
“What about?”
“Did you spend the day without panties?”
“Lucas,” she hissed. “Mac is right inside.”
“And he can’t hear us.” Lucas walked over to her car, his gaze hot, intense on hers. “Did you spend the day bare under your skirt?”
Heat rolled through her. “Yes.”
“What about now?”
“Well, I went and put some on before I came here.”
“That’s a shame. But I don’t mind taking them off of you again.”
Her throat tightened. “Is that so?”
“Your place or mine?”
She should tell him no. She shoul
d tell him he should go to his place, and she could go to hers. “I have a full-size bed. Your feet would hang off the end.”
“Mine then,” he said.
She nodded and got in her car, her hands shaking as she started the engine. She was going. There was no use pretending she wasn’t. Logic wasn’t winning. Not tonight.
***
The moment they were both in the driveway and out of their vehicles, Lucas scooped Carly up into his arms and charged into the house and up the stairs.
“I’m impatient,” he said, setting her down on the edge of the bed, tugging his t-shirt up over his head. Carly could only stare openmouthed for a moment. All those gorgeous muscles. And they were all hers. Only hers.
For a while at least. Until he got bored. Or tired of her.
She pushed that thought to the side and focused on his body again. On how she felt when she looked at him. On how she felt when she was with him. Like she’d been let out of a cage. One she’d shut her own self in.
“The rest,” she said, pushing herself back into the center of the mattress.
He arched one dark brow. “The rest of my clothes?”
“Yes. I want a show.”
“Two days and you’ve gotten completely corrupted,” he said, his hands going to his belt. She couldn’t help but notice the very clear outline of his erection beneath the denim.
“I blame you.”
He shook his head, tugging his belt through the loops, his hands strong, his fingers . . . those were talented fingers. Fascinating. He had the sexiest hands. Sexier now that she knew just what he could do with them. “I blame me too.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” He unsnapped his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, along with his underwear, kicking them aside.
She surveyed the sights, fire scorching along her veins.
“Commentary?” he asked.
“Damn, you’re hot,” she said, letting the words escape in a rush.
His eyes darkened. “I like it when you say things like that.”
“Totally stupid things like that?”
