by Sharon Kay
Her breath hitched. “You’re making me insane.”
“Riled up?”
“Hot.” Blue eyes met his in the last rays of daylight. “I need you to put this truck in gear and head back like you’re going to my house. Except we’re gonna turn before that.”
He pulled his hand away slowly, lingering over her shoulder and upper arm. Starting the truck, he maneuvered out of his spot and followed her instructions, laying a hand on her thigh. “More unmarked roads?”
“Yep.”
He skimmed his hand up her leg, testing her. Her skin was silky soft and warm despite the air conditioning he’d cranked. “So where are we going?”
She shifted in her seat, letting out a sigh. “You expect me to talk when you’re touchin’ me like that?”
He arched a brow. “If it’ll make you talk in that cute-ass drawl, then yeah.” He stroked higher, nearing the juncture of her thighs. “So…where’d you say we were going?”
“Um…” A heated sigh. “Somewhere cool. It was so hot today.” She glanced out the window as he made a turn. “Okay, at the next mile marker turn right.”
“That mile marker can’t come soon enough,” Cruz muttered. When the green sign popped into view, he angled the truck onto a dirt road that led into a thickly wooded area. He eyed Rosie. “Where you takin’ me, woman?”
She turned to face him. “Got any guesses?”
He shook his head. “No clue.”
Pushing up in her seat, she scooted so she was leaning way over the console and her lips brushed his ear. “We’re goin’ to Little Potato Creek,” she murmured.
Her voice sent shots of lust through his torso. “Night fishing?”
“Nope.” She kissed his neck, just below his ear. “We’re goin’ skinny dippin’.”
Cruz’s breath locked in his lungs. His foot involuntarily smashed down the brake pedal. As if Rosie’s sexy voice and soft skin were already pushing him to the brink, her words were a final kick.
“What?” he growled as his truck lurched to a halt in the middle of the road.
“I think you heard me.” She dropped slow, slick kisses along his neck.
Cruz’s brain short circuited. Fireworks, bombs, shrapnel—it was nothing compared to Rosie’s assault by liquid tease. His cock throbbed in the confines of his shorts. He hooked a hand around her shoulder and pulled her sweet, sinful mouth away while he had one ounce of sanity left. “Christ, woman.”
“Just a little farther,” she whispered, tracing a finger down his bicep.
Her touch was fire. Even on his damn arm, the light scrape of her fingernails made his cock twitch.
He forced himself to keep driving forward through the dense trees. “Where?” His voice was a rough growl.
She peered down the road ahead. “Up there past those evergreen trees there’s a little spot—okay, here.” She pointed to a gap in the trees big enough to stow the truck.
Then she unbuttoned the first two buttons of her dress.
“Fuck, Rosie.” Cruz’s mind hazed over at the damn fabric hanging open, revealing the tops of her perfect tits.
“Yeah, I planned on that.” She was back at his ear, breath tickling.
A rumble that sounded more animal than human rose from his chest. Somehow he managed to throw the thing in park and turn it off. Hauling her mouth to his, he kissed her with savage hunger. She’d stoked every nerve and fired every level of his need, past the point of caution, logic, sanity, gentleness.
She squeaked as he bit her lip. He reached around to grab her ass, yanking at the filmy cotton that covered her. Soft smooth cheeks met his palm. Sexy skin that he massaged, working his hand under her thong. He teased a finger along the seam of her ass. Then he smacked her, hard.
She gasped.
He tore his mouth away. “Out.” He pushed open his own door and hustled around to her side, as best he could with his dick rock hard in his pants.
Rosie slid out of her seat to stand before him. Sexy, flushed, breathing hard. And with two more buttons undone. Fuck him.
He pulled her to the side and closed her door, then shoved her against it. Grabbing her wrists, he pinned them above her head with one of his hands.
Her chest heaved. She bit her lip. Hell. He lowered his head for a kiss, gentling it a fraction because he had her where he wanted her. She wasn’t going anywhere and she was finally all his for the night. Sexy Rosie. With his free hand, he palmed one ripe breast. She still had her bra on. He slipped a finger just under the top edge. “This needs to go.”
She whimpered and wriggled. “You’re holding me.”
He released her and traced the neckline of her dress—or where it would have been, if it wasn’t half undone. Rounded fullness swelled under his hands. Curves he would taste, but later. His fingers decimated the rest of her buttons. “I want you naked. Now.”
She pulled the dress over her head faster than he could blink. Standing there in her bra and panties, leaning on his truck…the thought flashed in his head that he never wanted this to change. Her, like this, with him. All the damn time.
But then her hands went behind her back. The silk of her bra loosened and fell, slowly dragging down over the jut of her breasts, revealing skin he wanted to kiss every day. Her pink nipples hardened, begging for his touch. Next she undid the bun of her hair, setting waves free to cascade around her.
But he forced himself to make her feel as insane as he did. Moving away from her round breasts and perked nipples, he slid a finger under the edge of her panties, at her hip. “This too.”
“You don’t wanna get undressed by the water?” her voice husked, driving his lust as she hooked her thumbs under the straps at her hips.
“We’re not gonna make it to the water, babe.” He yanked his T-shirt over his head as she shimmed out of that thong.
God, she was beautiful. Did she even know how much? He vowed to savor her later. For now, his lust was wildly out of control. She pushed too far. And if this was her idea of teasing, taunting, pushing—she could do it every damn night. He’d be on board.
He threaded one hand to her nape and pushed her back to the warm steel of his truck. With a firm grip on her hair, he kissed her.
He devoured her mouth. Her body was hot against his and her hands roamed his shoulders, his back, like she couldn’t get enough. He dragged his free hand up her hip on a slow path to her nipple. He’d observed enough about her already to remember how sensitive she was there.
She shivered, though the night was still fucking humid. He stopped at the lower curve of her breast.
“Cruz,” she whispered.
“Yeah?” He didn’t move his hand. Instead he sucked at the spot where her shoulder met her neck.
“I…touch me,” she murmured like she could barely get the words out. “Please.”
He raised his hand slowly, skimming his palm over her tip.
She gasped. “God, yes.”
He repeated it on the other side. She was panting now. He pulled back to just look at her, so out of control. He’d take a mental snapshot and remember this for a long time. His sexy country girl, about to lose her mind. About to let him fuck her up against his truck in the middle of the damn woods.
Abruptly he dropped his hand to the vee of her thighs. A moan tore from her throat. He slid his fingers lower, finding the slick evidence of her readiness for him. “So fucking wet,” he murmured, stroking her body back and forth. “You’re ready for me.”
“Yes,” she said, though he hadn’t asked a question.
He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a condom. Holding it in his teeth, he made quick work of his belt and zipper.
She stared at his erection pushing against his boxer briefs. She flicked her eyes to his, then dragged her hands down his sides. She gripped the top edge of his underwear in her slender fin
gers, and tugged down. Inch by sensual inch. She gazed at him as if she were opening a present. The top of his shaft was exposed and she traced a finger along where it met his groin.
“One day Cruz, this won’t be my finger.” A stroke, light as air but heavy with promise. A rumble built in his throat. She was playing with fire. “It’ll be my mouth.”
His vision hazed and he freed his aching cock. Who would have ever thought sweet Rosie would be the queen of dirty talk? He couldn’t even wrap his head around all the nuances of her. He fell in deeper every time they came together.
He tore open the condom and rolled it on. Setting his hands on her hips, he lifted her up and leveraged her against the truck. She clutched his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips.
His cock bumped her heated flesh, making them both groan. “Rosie,” he growled, and positioned himself at her entrance. With aching slowness he slid her down.
She closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “Feels so good, baby.”
And why did her calling him baby feel so damn right? Hell.
He pushed up until he was balls deep in her sweetness. Nothing had felt this good, this wild before. He needed more, needed her, all of her, like he needed to breathe. He withdrew almost all the way and then sank deep again with a hard thrust.
Her body slammed against his truck. But she held his shoulders and scratched along his neck, tracing a path into his hair.
He plunged out and in again. Her breasts bounced, and he knew she’d get hotter if he played with them. With one hand under her ass, he brought the other up to tug one taut tip. Her lips parted on a soft sigh.
He couldn’t stop his rhythm if he wanted to. Her pussy milked him, every part of her squeezing him in a sultry heat. And her face—god, what had she said about not having a poker face? A myriad of expressions crossed her face: lust, surprise, need, delight.
Glancing down to their connection, he was fascinated by how her body took all of him. She maintained her hold on his shoulders and worked her hips, her face a mix of concentration and sex glow.
He dropped his hand to her mound, inching lower. She gasped, but her jaw dropped. “God, Cruz,” she moaned.
His fingers slinked lower, getting slick between her legs. He stroked her clit as he thrust inside her. Tiny sweet moans fell from her lips and she moved with him, rocking, pushing down on him. “I’m close,” she whispered around thrusts.
“Me too, babe. Hang on.” He gripped her ass tightly and unleashed the reins of his lust, pumping as hard and fast as he could. Every stroke only intensified the sensation, bringing him closer to orgasm. And at the same time the knowledge lurked that this was different. She was different.
She gasped and her body quivered as she came, legs trembling and hips grinding. Clutching his neck, she leaned in to bite his shoulder.
Fuck. No one had ever bitten his shoulder.
She raised her head and licked beneath his ear. “You wanna come, Cruz? Fuck me hard, baby. Just like tha—”
With a growl, he exploded inside her. His hips jerked over and over, pistoning up hard as he held her in place on his cock. Thrust after thrust, he kept going until he was finally spent.
He leaned against her, pressing her to the truck, and fought for air. She’d stolen his breath. She may have stolen more.
She panted with her head thrown back and eyes shut. Strands of hair stuck to her neck, where a sheen of sweat glistened. Every subtlety of her skin was beautiful, from the dip between her collarbones, to her pouty lips. All he could do was stare. The soft fullness of her breasts snuggled against his pecs. Her legs were starting to lose their grip on his hips. He didn’t want to pull out of her yet. Even though they were done, she still felt so good around him.
He adjusted her, shifting her higher.
Blue eyes opened to regard him with a mix of wonder and absolute satisfaction. She didn’t say a word, didn’t have to. Just leaned in to kiss him with the same slow sweet kisses she’d gifted his neck.
It felt more damn right than anything had felt in his life for a long time. Coming here to Sundown had been a whim, something he could easily back out of. The rented house, the physical labor job—he was willing to work his ass off anywhere in the country. If this had been a shit decision, he’d be gone overnight, no questions asked and no regrets.
But meeting Rosie had fundamentally changed that plan. Because there was no “easily backing out.” It simply didn’t exist. In a short time, he had grown way too used to her cute drawl and those fathomless blue eyes. He still had questions he wanted to ask, because she carried something that haunted her. He hated that. A voice thundered in his head, urging him to carry whatever that was. Whatever burden she felt was so heavy that she kept it locked up tight except for the times it forced its shadowed way into her eyes.
Outside of the women in his family, he’d never wanted to bear anyone’s burden.
Her mouth moved against his, brushing softly, licking gently at his lips. She pulled back, tilted her head like she was about to say something. Then she caught the look he must have on his face, the one where he was thinking she’d changed everything. “What?” she asked.
I’m never gonna let you go. But he pushed away the sappy, possessive thought. Was she ready to hear it?
And the bigger question—was she ready to let him in?
He didn’t know. So he defaulted to the obvious. “You’re hot, Rosie-girl.” He rocked her once on his cock, still semi hard inside her. “I’ve never done this before.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Never done which part?”
“Had sex up against a car.”
She giggled. “Me neither. Let’s do it again sometime.”
“That’d be a hell yes, woman.”
“You wanna go get in the water? We’re both sweaty.”
And the firsts kept on rolling with her. “I’ve never done that before either.”
“What? You’ve never skinny dipped?”
“Nope.” He frowned. “Not that many places to do it, I guess.”
“There’s gotta be some.”
“Yeah, and the water’d be disgusting. Plus there’s a hell of a lot more lights up there.”
“True.” She idly ran her fingers through his hair. “In my bag that I was not allowed to speak about…” she aimed a sly glance to the truck bed. “There’s a flashlight and towels.”
So that’s what the towels were for. “I’ll grab it. Don’t wanna set you down though.”
“Mmm, me neither. But you can just pick me up again in the water.”
Slowly, he pulled out of her and set her on her feet, still in her sandals. He pulled the condom off and balled it up in a wad of spare napkins from the glovebox. He pulled up the clothing that had fallen to his ankles, and grabbed Rosie’s bag. He eyed his truck as she grabbed her clothing from the ground. “No one will think we got stranded and come looking for us?”
“Nah. This is kind of …well…” She tilted her head and shrugged.
He guessed the direction of her thought. “The local skinny dipping spot?”
She laughed. “Yeah. I’m betting if anyone drives by, and if they see your car, they’ll just keep on going.”
“Good enough, or else they’ll get a show.” He locked it and followed her into the trees.
Chapter 22
Cool water lapped at Rosie’s back in the still inlet of Little Potato Creek, a contrast to the warmth of Cruz’s arms holding her. With her legs around his waist, she was at eye level with him. She toyed with his hair, running her fingers through it and pulling the strands up into spikes. The moon had waned down to a sliver that shrouded them in near-darkness. Only the dense canopy of stars shone above.
“This is different,” Cruz said. “Not walking on a concrete pool floor.”
“You’ve been missing out.”
“Hell, yes
. In a lot of ways. And what’s that sound?” He frowned. “Insects?”
He was so cute. “Those are frogs, city boy.” She added extra drawl to emphasize what he clearly didn’t grow up with. “Sometimes they sing all night, up in the trees.”
“Huh.” He turned them around in the water, alternately looking at her and scanning the banks. “So the guys told me something about you.”
“What?” Uh oh. A flicker of worry flared, but the teasing note in his voice calmed her down.
“They said,” he stroked a hand across her hip, under the water, “you used to be a cheerleader.”
“Oh my gosh. It’s true.”
“That’s hot. You still have your uniform?”
‘Umm, no.” She traced a finger along his jaw. “Why, you wanna see me in it?”
“That might be every guy’s fantasy. Especially if you don’t wear panties.” Quick as a wink, he took her finger in his mouth and swirled his tongue over the tip.
She sucked in a breath at the hot tease. “You’re bad. And anyway, there’s a different item up next on the dress up agenda.”
He released her finger with a pop. “I’m up for that, any time you want.”
“Me too,” she whispered. In the barely there light, she could just make out tiny droplets on his tattooed shoulders. He was sculpted, strong. Hard, but not hardened, like she imagined many men would be in his circumstances.
Could she ever be this strong? She’d never thought she could be…but she’d never met anyone who’d been through such back-breaking injustice. Maybe, if he could find a way to push through it, she could too. One day.
“Tell me more about you.” Rumbled words broke into her reverie. Did he always know when her mind went to that sad and hopeless place?
“I told you, there’s not much to know.” Soft words uttered. A lie. Even she was starting to doubt them.
“I didn’t know you were a cheerleader.” He rotated them again. “Did you play sports?”
“Pfft, no. I was terrible at the whole hand-eye coordination thing. Cheer was the closest I could get.”
