He led her around to the back, where the cabin sat on an angle with the wooded tree line on one side and open land on the other. The structure itself blocked the view from the road, leaving a secluded, private area.
“Wait here.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just up on the porch. Got a surprise for you.”
He hopped up on the covered porch, pulled the tarp off the metal-framed futon he'd found in the basement and relocated to the bunkhouse.
“Heads up, sweetness. Coming through.”
Grabbing on to the top and bottom rail, he scooped the futon up, carried it from the porch to the grass and set it down.
“What is this for?”
“Stargazing.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“How cool is that?”
“Very cool actually.” After popping the frame open, he extended it into his own personal chaise lounge and brushed his hands over the cushion. “Stretch out. You'll love this.”
She settled in and he dropped next to her, extending his legs as he tilted his head to the sky.
Perfection.
“You do this a lot?”
“Not every night. When it's clear.”
“Isn't it cold?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“What about the security people you told my dad about? And the cameras? Doesn't that freak you out?”
He smiled over the girl who didn't like people looking at her. She'd have to get over that. “Not an issue. I futzed with the cameras. The area we're in? Cameras can't get to it. Total blind spot from that corner”—he jerked his thumb to the far end of the cabin—”to this one.”
“Oh, that's brilliant.”
“Thank you.”
Obviously satisfied with his answer, she inched closer, rested her head in the crook of his shoulder and stared up at the explosion of stars. She let out a little sigh and…well…if she didn't knock that off. Whoops. Too late, Reid's mind wandered and, yep, the start of a woody.
That bad boy hadn't seen a lot of action lately, so he was all kinds of fired up.
“I can see why you like this.”
Oh, honey. He laughed a little and she turned her head, looking up at him in the dark. “Sorry,” he said. “My mind wandered. Anyway, being out here reminds me of overseas.”
She nestled into his side and propped one elbow on the back of the cushion. Brynnie, Brynnie, Brynnie. She felt so damned good his body might combust.
“You miss the military, huh?”
“I do indeed. I trained hard. Not just the physical stuff. College, too. Straight As. I learned to speak Spanish, then Portuguese. All to make sure I qualified for Special Forces.”
“You reached your goal.”
“Yeah. And I was happy, you know? A lot of people strive for a goal and get there and it's not what they think, right? Not me. It was everything I expected. And more.”
“You're lucky. And correct about goals sometimes being disappointing. I sold myself short. All I wanted was a husband and a family. I got there and…” She shook it off, waved her hand. “Doesn't matter.”
“It wasn't what you thought.”
“Definitely not. But I learned from it and I'll never regret it. I know now what I don't want and that's the important part.”
“And, hey, it brought you back to the Ridge and here we are under an amazing sky.”
She leaned in a little, totally taking the lead—which he kind of loved—because a few days ago, she'd been too closed-off to even flirt with him.
But this time she met him halfway and he dipped his head low enough to kiss her. He brought his free hand up, cupped her cheek, and ran his thumb along her jawline, taking it slow. They had time.
He backed up half an inch. “I like kissing you,” he said. “I'd like to do a lot more to you. Assuming it fits in the five-year plan.”
She sighed. “Well, I think it's safe to say you've obliterated my plan.”
“When I'm good, I'm good.”
“And so humble, too.”
He burst out laughing. Damn, she was cute. And, yeah, a little young, but wise. Wise enough to set him straight when he needed it.
He slid his hand over her waist, under the hem of her shirt to the warm skin underneath.
“So, Ms. Whitfield, if I tried to get your clothes off, would you smack me?”
She gawked. “You want me to take my clothes off here? In your yard. Just down from your mother's house?”
He shrugged. “It's kinda a fantasy of mine. You, out here, naked. And it is the middle of the night in the pitch black.”
“A fantasy? Really?”
“There's the truck one, too, but that'll take some maneuvering.”
“Holy cow.”
“What?”
“You're just…a lot.”
Uh-oh. That didn't sound positive. “A lot how?”
“You say things and I can't figure out if it's enviable honesty or totally inappropriate.”
“If I get an opinion on this, which by now you realize I always have an opinion, I'd say honesty. I mean, why not put my intentions out there. I'm attracted to you. I want what I want. Why play bullshit games?”
“You scare me a little.”
“I scare you?”
What the hell did that mean? He'd done his damnedest to stay levelheaded with this girl, not push too hard, and he scared her?
Shit.
“Not like physically scare me. I'm…you're…different.”
Marginally better, he supposed. “Different is good sometimes. You're different for me, too.”
“I'm not a Victoria's Secret model.”
“Never said I wanted one.” He inched his hand up higher under her shirt, dragged his thumb over the underside of her bra.
Lace.
Nice.
She whipped off a smile and angled closer. “Oh, good answer. I love when you touch me. Crazy things happen when you touch me.”
“Say the word and it gets a whole lot crazier.”
* * *
Say the word.
She could. Right here, right now. Wanted to even. Six long months of…of…nothing. Now the superhero wanted to shag her.
In his yard.
How incredibly wicked for a girl whose most daring sexual escapade was doing it on the living room floor. Woo-hoo! The floor.
I'm so not ready for him.
Reid Steele, conqueror of women. Something else to feel inferior about. Great. He'd be bored with her lack of sexual experience.
How pathetic was that for a divorced woman?
She snuggled closer. “I want to.”
“What?”
“Say the word.”
“Okay. Is there a 'but’ coming?”
“No.”
He laughed, ran a hand over his face. “You're funny.”
“There's something I should tell you.”
“Oh, man. That's never good.”
This time she laughed. One thing about them, they shared a twisted humor.
“Actually, it is good. I'm just nervous about admitting it. “
Again, he rubbed his thumb over her boob and—wow—his hands were nice. Big, rough hands that made her feel delicate. Small. Being the chubby girl for so long, even after losing weight, she still carried that extra ten pounds and the cellulite that went with it.
Reid leaned in, nibbled the side of her neck.
That would do it. She lifted her chin, giving him fuller access, and the long dormant and neglected parts of her stirred.
Hello, girls.
When Reid's hand moved fully over her boob, she sucked in a breath. “I'm not…experienced.”
There. Said it.
His hand stopped. Just halted right on her boob and oh, God, this was bad. Bad, bad, bad.
He'd run. Why wouldn't he? A man like him could find any number of willing—and talented—women to sleep with.
He backed away and even in the dark, she saw it, the analyzing
gaze. The choosing of his words.
“What do you mean?”
It was out there now. Might as well spill it. “Please don't laugh at me.”
He kept his hand on her. Good sign that. If he'd pulled away, she'd have cried. The rejection, for a girl like her, before she'd even told him, would carve her to pieces.
“I will never laugh at you.”
Then he kissed her. Gently. Just a light peck on the lips.
Tell him. “I'm afraid I'll”—she stopped, squeezed her eyes closed—”disappoint you.”
She held her breath a second, waited for the humiliation to wash over her. But…nothing. She exhaled, dropped her forehead to his shoulder, let her body sag from the relief.
Free. That's what she was now. Free of her bad marriage. Once and for all.
“Sweetheart, you've got to be the sweetest thing. You're not going to disappoint me. Pretty much, I've never had a disappointing experience when it comes to”—he waved his hand—”this. And with you, with what I've got in mind? Definitely not disappointing.”
“But that's the problem.”
“What?”
“What you have in mind. I may not know how.”
“Jeez, Brynne, I'm a smart guy, smarter than Jonah smart. Seriously. My IQ is off the charts. But God help me, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. So please. Just trust me to do the right thing here and talk to me.”
Up to now, he'd been nothing but kind to her. Kind was an understatement. He'd been exceptional. Taking care of her, seeing to her safety, letting her help him with Evie. Why should that have to change? And really, she couldn't live like this anymore. The scared little mouse.
She lifted her head, met his gaze. “I've only ever done it one way. With my ex. He's it.”
“You were a virgin when you met him? Really?”
She nodded. “Yes, really. I was the chubby girl in high school. No one noticed me. I lost weight between my freshman and sophomore year in college, went back to school, and met Kurt. He was the first. And he…well…let's say he wasn't adventurous.”
“Okay, seriously. The more I know about this guy, the more I hate him. I mean, what the hell is wrong with him? And what the hell was wrong with you for marrying a guy who could look at you and not want to do you on every possible surface in every possible position? I mean, honey, you are spectacular. Sexy, cute, sweet, nice, all of it wrapped in one curvy little package. It's like hitting the fucking Lotto and this douchebag didn't see that?” He banged his palms against his head. “In my mind, the things I've done to you are borderline ridiculous. I imagine you screaming from orgasms constantly. And you manage to marry the one guy who's dumb enough not to enjoy it.” He ran his hand over his face. “Lucky for you I came along.”
Had this idiot just said all that to her? “I'm lucky?”
“Well, actually, I think I'm the lucky one.” He sat back, wrapped both arms around her and hauled her on top of him. “I get to play out my fantasies and show you what you've been missing all at the same time. Jackpot!”
Without bothering to ask, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted. She raised her arms, let him draw the shirt over her head and toss it over his shoulder.
“I need to see this bra.”
With her straddling him, he lifted his hips and—wowie—that was quite the healthy erection. He slipped his phone from his back pocket, the little blinking blue light shattering the darkness.
“You're not…”
“Yep.” He swiped at the screen and light washed over her, lighting up the sheer lace bra like Times Square.
“Shit,” he said, gawking at her. “I wasn't prepared for that wickedness.”
She looked down at her protruding nipples and her shoulders caved in.
“Hey.” He dragged his fingers under her chin. “Don't shrink away. You're beautiful. You need to own that. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Coming from him, she believed it. As much of a player as Reid probably was, he didn't lie. The man, as she'd just semi-painfully experienced, spoke his mind. Always.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Sugar, don't thank me yet. You're gonna have a long night. What say we start with you on top?”
“Me? On top?”
In her mind, her hips would spread wider than the Grand Canyon and she'd rather spare herself that humiliation.
Plus, she wouldn't know what to do. Theoretically, she knew, but had never tried it because—oh, right—her ex always had to be in control of the sex. And he wanted plain old missionary style.
Every time.
She dropped her chin to her chest, her cheeks heating up under his stare. Twenty-four years old and divorced and she still didn't have the confidence to handle a man like Reid Steele.
But letting him control this? Could she do that? Let the man dictate what he wanted?
Yes. She could. But this time, she'd have a say. They'd both get what they wanted.
She set her hands on his chest. Tapped her fingers.
“You're thinking,” he said.
“I feel fat up here. Like my hips are everywhere.”
“They're not. Your hips are perfect. Well, they would be if you'd get your pants off.”
At that, she laughed. Leave it to Reid.
“Brynne?”
“I want to. With you. I just…” She shook her head.
Be honest. As outspoken as Reid tended to be, he'd expect it.
“What?”
“I don't know what I'm doing. Up here. Me on top.”
“Plan B.”
“Plan B?”
He rolled. Just whoop! And she faced the stars blanketing an amazing night sky. So bad. All of this. Sex in the middle of a field? Seriously?
Smiling down at her, he kissed her, long and slow, and she pulled him on top of her, loving the feel of his massive body, so much bigger than hers, pressing her into the crappy futon.
He broke the kiss, wormed his hands down to her waistband. “Lift up.”
She raised her hips, let him slide her yoga pants down, and the friction of his calloused fingertips against her bare skin ignited her.
“Oh, wow, oh, wow,” she said.
“What?”
How to explain it. What she felt. Because that crazy intense heat burning her alive? Never before. Making love had never been an issue for her. She'd never minded.
But that was it. Overall, she didn't get the allure.
And she’d never experienced hot flashes.
“I want to love this. With you.”
“Well, hell, no pressure there. Way to kill a moment, Brynnie.”
She smacked herself on the head, laughing a little. “No. That's not what I meant. It's…sex.”
He scooted down her body, dragged her pants off and hooked his fingers under the strings of her underwear.
“Lookie here. I may have to see these in the light, too.”
She gripped his wrists. Hard.
“I swear, if you shine that flashlight on me again, I will murder you right here.”
He grinned at her, ran his fingertips over the lace just above her crotch and…wow, wow, wow.
“I guess we'll wait on that,” he said, sliding her panties down, those rough fingertips making her insane.
Insane.
She gripped two handfuls of his hair, all that thick dark hair, and pulled gently because—yes—she wanted to experience everything with him. All the things she'd imagined, but had always been laughed at for suggesting.
“I want to try it. Me on top. Now. Before I lose my nerve.”
Whoosh. She was on top again, straddling him just above his hips. Before her good sense reined her in, she scooted down, went to work on unfastening his jeans. Fast, fast, fast.
He let her do it, let her fingers hurry through the process, and then he helped her get his pants off by lifting his hips.
“You in a hurry, Brynnie?”
“You have no idea. Problem?”
“Nope.
We've got all night.”
She wiggled down his legs, taking his jeans and boxer briefs with her, and his erection sprang free and—yippee. Big boy. Brynne gulped because…because…this would be a new experience.
Who knew her ex-husband had such a pencil dick?
Scooting off him, she whipped his pants over his ankles, grinning like a girl about to have a very good night.
“What's the shit-eating grin about?”
She straddled him again, just below his hips and grabbed hold of him. Her reward came by way of a guttural groan and somehow, his erection grew harder.
“I'm smiling about you,” she said. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making me feel pretty. And making me want sex again.”
He let out another groan, arched against her hand still wrapped around him.
“Condom,” he said. “Back pocket of my jeans.”
With her free hand, she reached back, grabbed his jeans, and dumped them on him.
A second later, the crinkle of foil sounded. “Let me,” he said.
She let go of him, kept her gaze on his while he dealt with the condom.
“You ready?” he asked, his voice thick and low and raspy.
She hovered over him, letting her instincts help her along. His erection rubbed against her, the heat of him pouring into her, and she lowered herself the rest of the way and…
“Oh,” she gasped as he lifted his hips and entered her.
She tipped her head back and he brought his hands up, over her chest, the roughness of his palms bringing her nipples to full attention through the sheer lace of her bra. Regretfully, he moved his hands back to her hips where he nudged her along, guiding her.
“Not too fast,” he said. “Yeah. Perfect. Right there.”
With one hand, he banged on the mattress and groaned—ooh, he liked that, whatever it was. She repeated the movement and his smile flashed.
“You are a wicked girl, Brynnie.”
He bucked his hips, squeezed his hands over hers, coaxing her along, faster, slower, faster again, teaching her without saying a word.
Reid had that way about him. The ability to show her what he wanted, without making it a thing. Without demoralizing her.
Still inside her, he sat up, kissed her hard, his tongue ravaging her mouth, running along her lips, and she clung to him, wrapped her arms and legs around him, loving the feel of him, this perfect circle that was the two of them. He rolled, pushed her to her back and held himself up, staring down at her, those dark blue eyes somehow so clear, connecting with her in the pitch black.
Living Fast: Steele Ridge Series Page 22
