Of all the spaces in the house, she loved the kitchen most of all. With its earth-tone color palette and cluttered counters and good smells and worn wood table in the corner, it felt like love. Like a big hug from Maria and Edith.
Grooming and settling his horse in for the night would take time, so she made herself a cup of tea and waited, imagining her child in this kitchen. She could see Maria and Edith doting on him or her, sneaking them tastes of the sweets they were making, chiding him for eating jam straight out of the jar like his mama. Such a comforting vision. Maybe Hannah would be there, too, doting and laughing and loving.
More than anything, she wanted to give her and Brett a chance at something real. Even if he wasn’t ready to entertain the idea right now, they had all the time in the world. All she needed was a hefty dose of patience, of which she was in short supply at the moment.
When she heard the door open in the mudroom that sat between the kitchen and the back porch steps, she stood, her tea forgotten. Though she wanted to rush to him and throw her arms around his neck, she waited by the table until he’d come in the house and locked the door behind him.
When he saw her, one side of his lips kicked up in a tired smile. “I should’ve guessed a stubborn woman like you wouldn’t take my advice and get some rest.”
“Did you eat dinner?” she asked.
The last time they’d shared a meal was the night of the hunting blind fire. She loved dining with Big J, Edith and Maria, and sometimes Jack, Tracy and little Seth, but she missed Brett’s conversation. She missed his smiles and levity.
“No. Not hungry.”
To be fair, he didn’t look hungry. He looked exhausted. But there was no better cure for that than some TLC. She poured him a glass of water as he emptied a flashlight, keys and a pocketknife from his pockets onto the counter.
Then she stepped close and held the glass out to him. “You’re not taking care of yourself.”
His lips pressed together, pulling into a straight line. “I’m managing fine, but thank you for caring.” Still, he took the offered glass and drained it in a few gulps.
Anticipation and nerves made her heart pound as she inched closer. She slid an arm around his middle, her hand smoothing over the soft, worn flannel of his shirt. He gripped the empty glass hard, his knuckles going white. Then she set her cheek on his shoulder.
“You’re a good man, Brett Colton.”
With an incredulous huff, he averted his gaze.
Affection bloomed in her heart. She lifted the glass from his hand, though it took some coaxing to get his grip to ease, and set it on the counter. Then she cradled his cheek in her palm, her thumb scraping over thick stubble. Before she could overthink it, she angled her face up and let her nose brush along his jaw.
He wrenched his face away. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled.
Undeterred, she took his hand and pressed it to the curve of her flesh where her hip met her backside. “But what a way to go.”
His fingers tightened over her flesh, gripping her with purpose. Even through the layers of fabric from her robe and nightgown, she felt his warmth, his strength. It was all she could do not to moan at the pleasure of finally—finally, damn it—feeling his hand on her body. Their kiss in the hospital hallway felt like a lifetime ago.
Chancing another bold move, she brought her hands to his shirt collar and slid the top button through the hole, releasing it. She moved to the next button.
“Hannah, please. We’ve been over this.” His hand left her backside and clamped around her wrist, stilling her progress, but her mind crowded with memories of their one-night stand.
He’d cuffed his hands around her wrists that night, too. He’d pinned them over her head, positioned her against the wall in her living room and ripped her underwear off. He’d actually ripped them away from her body as though the idea of having her had turned him into a madman. She’d loved every second of it.
She allowed herself a quiet pant of arousal through her open mouth. The flesh between her thighs turned sensitive and tingly. She squeezed her inner muscles, wallowing in the tender, needy feeling the action evoked.
In one abrupt motion, he released her wrist and backed away from her, as though he’d noticed her reaction. He prowled to the sink and braced his hands against the counter. His jaw was tight, his eyes hard as he gazed on the darkness beyond the window.
“Would it be so bad for me to take care of you for once? Since you’re doing such a good job taking care of me?”
“We’re having a child together. We can’t afford to be careless with our relationship.” His words were clipped, his tone little more than a growl.
And there they were again, back to that same circular argument they seemed doomed to have for all of eternity. Careless or not, she was determined to be the kind of person who took chances—and there was nothing she wanted more than to take a chance on her and Brett. “We can’t just ignore what we want from each other indefinitely.”
“I’m not willing to jeopardize everything because I want you in my bed.”
Heat and need raged through her body with the force of a wildfire. There was no way she was giving up this midnight seduction after that admission. You’re going down, cowboy. You just don’t know it yet.
With her eyes on his back and the stiff set of his shoulders, she untied the belt of her robe. It fell open, cool air swirling over her body, tightening her nipples.
“So you think this is just going to go away on its own?” She shrugged the robe off her shoulders. The silken fabric licked at her legs as it pooled on the floor.
His grip on the counter turned his knuckles white. His jaw, his gaze, everything about him was stone. “This?”
As if he hadn’t just admitted that he wanted her. As if the air around them didn’t crackle with lust, with the urgent hunger to get their hands on each other, to connect on the most intimate level a man and woman could—hearts, bodies and minds.
“The need, Brett.” Her whisper came out strained, as though the desire implicit in her words were a visceral thing, jagged and coarse. “The need.”
Her body quivered with the craving to press her nude body against his back and wrap her hands around his waist, feeling that hard, male body beneath her palms. It would be so easy to wrap her arms around his waist and unlatch his belt, then set her fingers to work on the button and zipper of his jeans. It would be so easy to show him exactly what she meant in a few short moves.
Instead, she stayed the course of her seduction and pulled her nightdress over her head, then added it to the pile on the floor. Cool air swirled around her breasts. But either Brett hadn’t heard the rustle of her clothes being shed or he was choosing to ignore it because he didn’t flinch, nor turn his focus from the window.
Though every molecule in her body was straining for contact, she pivoted on the ball of her foot. She stepped over the pile of clothes, leaving them on the floor for him to trip on, and walked with silent, measured steps toward the hall that led to the stairs.
She didn’t speak until she was in the hall, far enough away that if he turned, he’d see flesh, but only a glimpse before she vanished around the corner. “Good night, Brett. Sweet dreams.”
She felt him watching her mount the stairs and added a little sway to her hips. His footsteps stopped at the base of the staircase, but she forced herself to keep her face pointed straight ahead, and forced her legs to keep moving. Come on, cowboy. Follow me...
Chapter 13
Hannah held her breath as she turned the doorknob to her suite, straining to hear the sound of his footsteps, but the house was silent. Was he really going to let her walk away? Was he really so determined to keep her at arm’s length that her naked body didn’t provoke him to action? How depressing.
She cast a final look down the h
allway, but all she saw was darkness. Fine, then. Okay. Maybe her seduction technique hadn’t been as effective as she’d thought. There was plenty of time to prove to him that their relationship was worth taking a chance on. Her heart giving a painful squeeze, she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.
At a loss for what to do next, she stood for a moment in the middle of the room in the darkness, then walked to the nearest window, her attention on the moon. Pressing her palm to the cool glass, she allowed her mind to go blank, to think of nothing but how vast the world was and how breathtaking the moon looked shining down on all of creation.
The suite door flew open and banged against the wall. With a gasp of surprise, she spun around. Brett’s silhouette filled the threshold. In his hand, he gripped the bunched-up wad of her clothes. “Do you have any idea how crazy you’re making me?”
“What?” she breathed.
He kicked the door closed again, then prowled in her direction, tossing her clothes on a chair as he moved. “Do you have any idea how badly I want you right now? How badly I’ve been wanting you since that first night you came to the ranch?”
“I...”
And then he was before her, his face a savage cut of shadows and moonlight. “I’ve been working so hard to resist you, but while I was fighting to stay strong and trying to put our baby’s needs before my own, you were stripping off your clothes behind my back.”
He crowded against her, pressing her against the glass door, his eyes dark and volatile. She shivered at the first contact of the cold against her warm skin, but all thoughts of discomfort vanished at the feel of his jean-clad erection pressing into her belly.
One of his hands came up to cup her neck. The other gripped her hip. “You’re making it so damn hard for me to do the right thing.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but his lips descended over hers, hot and demanding. His hands gripped her hips, locking her body against his. She threaded her fingers into his hair. The rush of getting what she’d been longing for made her knees weak. She opened her mouth for him, mating her tongue with his.
While his mouth plundered hers, his hand slid over her backside, then down to her thigh. He cupped the back of her knee and jerked her leg up against his hip. The metal latch of his belt poked into her, rough and unforgiving against the stretched, tender skin of her belly. She reached her hands between them and unlatched the belt, the sides of her hands rubbing against the impressive erection that even twenty weeks later was still emblazoned in her mind. Her body’s center pulsed at the memory.
She pushed the buckle off to the side, then closed her fingers around the button of his jeans. A flick of her fingers and a tug of the zipper made his pants gape open, his erection pressing against dark cotton. She curled her fingers around it.
He broke off the kiss, growling out as his hands closed around her wrists and pinned her hands against the glass near her shoulders, such a similar movement to that first time that she cried out with satisfaction.
Breathing hard through flared nostrils, he gazed down at her. “You need to know something first.”
She remembered this with perfect clarity, too—the way he took control in the bedroom, rough but not too rough, brazenly confident right to the edge of smugness. The perfect mix of wicked and kind. She struggled against his hold on her wrists just for the pleasure of him tightening his grip. He pinned her lower body with his hips and slid her hands higher against the glass until her body was stretched out and utterly at his mercy.
She heard the surprise in his throaty growl when he said, “You like that, don’t you?”
The question proved that he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d admitted to not remembering much about their one-night stand, because that night she’d proved to him over and over again how much she got off on his proclivity for dominance, for making a woman submit to his will. For her answer tonight, she strained her neck to brush her lips against his, though she could barely make contact and he made no move to get closer.
Before she could catch her breath, he took her mouth in an aggressive kiss, his tongue a hard, wet instrument of his mastery. This time, when he wrenched his face away, breaking the kiss, he was breathing as hard as she was.
“If we do this, then you’d better be ready for me to fight for you.” His voice was low and harsh, as though he was speaking through clenched teeth. “Because I’m warning you right now, Hannah, that I don’t take my responsibility to you lightly. And despite the carelessness of the first time we slept together, I don’t take this lightly, either. Not anymore.”
“Neither do I.”
He nodded. “I want you and the baby here at the ranch with me and I’m going to fight for that, even if sleeping together proves to be one complication too many. You get in bed with me tonight, then I’m expecting you to fight for us, too. Do you understand? Can you accept those terms?”
His words wrapped around her, carrying with them the unmistakable weight of his fear and his determination, and so much honor that it made her heart burst with love. She met his hard gaze. “This is me fighting for us, and I plan to keep fighting. You know how stubborn I am.”
This time when he kissed her, his aggression was laced with tenderness. “I love the sound of that.” He brought her arms around his neck, then moved his hands over her back. “There’s one more thing we need to discuss first,” he said.
She tipped her head back, battling a sudden rush of frustration. “I’m going to self-combust pretty soon if we keep talking. This pregnant lady needs some action, cowboy.”
His lips twitched, as though he was battling a smile. His hand moved between her thighs to cup her mound. “You mean, this kind of action?”
She whimpered. Bracing a hand on the back of his neck, she spread her legs wider. “That’s a good start.”
One of his fingers pushed between her folds. “You’re so wet for me, and so on edge.” His finger made a lazy swirl around her most sensitive flesh, rendering her limbs weak and trembling. She squeezed her eyes closed and rode out the sensation. “Do you need to come right now so you can relax and enjoy everything else I’m going to do to you?”
Without waiting for a reply, he added a second finger and pushed them inside her.
Her fingernails dug into his neck. All she could manage was another whimper.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”
He braced an arm around her waist as his right hand worked a relentless pattern of thrusts and swirls that shattered any last vestiges of her composure. She threw her head back, arching, rocking her body in time with his movements.
“That’s it. Take what you need.”
But she was incapable of taking anything. All she could do was cling to him and feel and reach for the relief he offered against the near-painful pressure building inside her.
He bathed her neck and shoulders with kisses and nips of his teeth. When she was panting and desperate and so, so close, he sucked her earlobe, then said in a gravely whisper, “I want every inch of you.”
Her whole body rippled with pleasure at the idea. And she thought she’d been ready to combust before. Her body turned into molten heat.
“Yes,” she said between labored breaths.
She rose onto tiptoes, the balls of her feet pushing, pressed her back against the wall, her shoulders rising. Everything she was, inside and outside, lifting and tensing and building. Here it came, closer, closer...
Her mouth opened with the beginning of a whimper that died in her throat when he slipped a third finger inside her. Clamping his other hand on her hip, he pulled her down and thrust his fingers up with a force that tipped her right over the edge.
He stabilized her body between his own and the wall, his teeth grazing her neck, as she lost herself to the release and succumbed to pulse after pulse of ecstasy.
When she
’d recovered her wits, he removed his fingers from her body. His lips lingered on her shoulder, kissing and soothing. “That better?” he murmured.
She threaded her fingers into his hair and held him tight. “You have no idea how badly I needed that.”
Raising his head, he gave her a wolfish smile. “Oh, I had a pretty good idea.” His hand cupped her breast, toying with her nipple. She hooked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face to hers, kissing him hard and wet, stroking her tongue against his in his mouth.
Tired of having her access to his skin hindered by his clothes when he had full access to her body, she made short work of his shirt buttons and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. He let her work the rest of his clothes off as he explored her body with his hands and lips.
“Anything we can’t do, with you being pregnant? I don’t know much about that stuff.”
“Me, neither. We’re both new at this. I think we can do whatever we want, as long as you don’t put much pressure on my belly.”
“Got it. I’ll be gentle.”
“Not too gentle, I hope. I might be pregnant, but I’m not breakable.”
He wrapped his hand around her leg and jerked it up against his thigh, his lips near hers. “Have I been treating you like you’re breakable?”
“No. Just making sure.”
His free hand cupped her breast, plumping her nipple as his mouth descended over it. He sucked her good and hard, getting his teeth involved until she cried out. “Who would’ve thought that my sweet little Hannah likes it a little rough?” he crooned against her skin.
Holding back a teasing comment about his terrible memory of their one-night stand, knowing he might take it wrong and feel guilty, she took hold of his erection and gave him a long, slow tug that twisted his mouth into a crooked scowl. “Sweet little Hannah needs this. Now.”
Colton's Cowboy Code Page 17
