The addition of the pink feather took her from worried about how fast this was moving, into laughing at the absurdity of him holding a big pink feather.
He put everything on the dresser and then leaned, looking at her like he had a thousand times, and not like he was about to strip off her clothes and perform acts of intimacy. Another flutter arrested her.
“I did get the furniture from the thrift shop,” Greg said, completely at ease. “When I first bought this place I had zero money. Sometimes I was in the red. But I needed to fill it with something, so I just got the cheapest stuff I could find as I had money.”
“And you never wanted to replace it?” Christie ran her nail over the edge of the duct tape.
Greg shrugged in that way men did when they just never noticed something that had always been staring them in the face. “What was the point? They were doing the job. I figured I’d leave it until I moved into a bigger place.”
“So you won’t have to move them?”
“No, so you could pick the new stuff out.” His lopsided grin stole her breath. “When I had the disposable income, I was already pining after you.” He looked around the room. “Do you want to change rooms, or stay in here?”
“Why did you keep pursuing me?” Christie asked quietly.
“I told you—because I love you. When you find someone that you love as much as I love you, you wait. You hope.” He took a few steps then grabbed her hand and reeled her into his arms. “It paid off. It was all worth it.”
“I have a mean temper. You might be singing a different tune when I unleash that bad boy.”
“I am fully aware of your temper. It’s terrifying. But I’m bull-headed, or so you tell me, so we’re all set.”
She laughed and leaned into him, a change from before this closer intimacy with him when she would’ve danced through the room. “So the question is where do we want to go?”
“Yes. Bedroom, living room, make-shift office…”
“Office? Mr. Romantic.” She left his arms and delicately grabbed the feather off of the dresser. It floated through the air as she moved it, flittering. “Maybe in front of the fire? It’s not that cold—”
“Done.” Greg wrapped his arms around all his supplies and took off without a backward glance.
“Do I keep my clothes on…”
He didn’t hear her. Or if he did, he didn’t answer.
She gave a last look around the bedroom, nervous, expectant, and scared all at the same time. The demons and ghosts weren’t invading her thoughts, but this was still her first real intimate experience she’d ever had. She had no idea what to expect, and she was old enough to know that she’d be no good at whatever they tried. At least, not compared with him.
Exhaling, she left the hobo bedroom and meandered down the stairs, eager to touch him but scared at the same time. The banister, pockmarked and battered, felt rough under her fingers. At the end, where a beautiful rug awaited her, she slowly turned toward the living room. Greg was in there, bent over the fire. His broad back seemingly stretching out for miles, the muscles flexing and moving under the shirt as he got a flame started. She watched his arms, looked at his butt and even glanced at his neck. The man didn’t have one ounce of fat on him. Working at the ranch every day except Sunday, moving heavy feed bags or bales of hay, working with the animals—all of it had made his body thick and cut from stone. Power and strength existed in every movement, no matter how small. Just standing in that shirt, which molded to his robust chest and hugged down those tight abs, he was a work of art. A masterpiece. And while he knew it enough to get girls, he had such an unconscious handsomeness. He laughed and joked without any sort of ego. He just was, easy and effortless.
She crossed to the couch and ran her hands along the stressed brown leather, her favorite kind of couch. Then something occurred to her.
“Why did you buy this couch?” she asked.
He glanced back. A flickering glow illuminated the side of his chiseled face. “You helped pick that out.”
“I remember. Is that why you got it, because I liked it?”
Confusion crossed his face. “Yeah, why? You don’t like it?”
“No, I mean, is this like the bedroom set?”
“Oh.” Not at all embarrassed, he turned back to the fire. “Yeah, kind of. I wasn’t really thinking about it, to be honest. I liked the feel of it—it’s comfortable—and you liked the look. Done.”
Christie noticed the odd blue chair next to it, and the sleek wood coffee table in front. “I’ve never noticed the absolute mis-match of furniture in your house before. Isn’t that funny?”
“No.” He straightened up before dragging the stand with the fire poker and other items closer. “You didn’t care about my furniture before because you just saw me as a friend. I bet you haven’t noticed Sara and Mike’s furniture, either. Now that your thinking has changed, you’re thinking about what might look better when we move in together.”
“Whoa.” She swung her arms and bounced to the side.
Laughing, he caught her and hugged her close. “Too much?”
“I have noticed Sara’s furniture, actually. Mike has great taste so I get ideas from him all the time.”
“Has she been inside your house?” Something strange tinged his voice, almost like jealousy.
“No. No one has. We have a similar style, though, which kind of stems from Mike, like I said. He’s like a savant of decorating. She knows I pilfer his ideas.”
“He grew up with money and a mother who likes things to look nice. It rubbed off. We’ve teased him about it forever.”
“But who got the girl?”
“And the budding family—true. Can’t deny it.” Greg ran his fingers through her hair. His touch ran down the side of her face and then under her chin, lifting. He bent, his lips touching hers softly.
Like an avalanche of feeling, suddenly a whoosh of emotion crushed her. Deep and consuming, it filled her up to bursting, pushing at her seams and bringing tears to her eyes. For the first time, it wasn’t pain. It wasn’t humiliation. It was the opposite. A feeling so intense and moving that it sucked her into a place where all she could think of was this man.
Closing her eyes, feeling his heart beating, strong and sure, she gave in to it. She let the need and affection take over her. Her kiss deepened, fueled with passion. Her mouth opened, not waiting for him to come to her, but reaching her tongue to his. She moved her lips against his as her hands slid around his muscular body and squeezed him close, plastering her front to his. Hardness and warmth pushed against her stomach, sparking an unspeakable desire deep in her core. Heat ignited, quickly turning to fire. It burnt its way through her body and sizzled within her blood.
Without knowing where it came from, or that she was even capable of feeling it, a white hot shot of sensuality tore through her. Like a beast rising out of a swamp, the part of her that had been suppressed all these years, rose up—sexy and indescribably feminine. She wanted to be admired, loved, and also to inspire the kind of passion that pushed a man beyond his limits. The woman in her was stretching her wings, and the silent roar tingled her toes and heightened her need. She wanted to express herself, completely. Right now.
She clawed at his shirt, yanking it up and forcing his hands into the air as she pulled. It caught on his head, the material not as stretchy as it seemed. She gave a few yanks, making his whole body move with it.
“Wait, Christie—”
With a harder yank, the shirt finally popped off his head, leaving his hair a tousled mess of gorgeousness; his upper body revealed to her now.
Perfectly cut pecs led down into an eight-pack, and then expanded out into defined obliques. A sensual line of muscle cut just above his pant line hinted at a lady play-ground below. A small happy trail led from his navel to that same pant line. Call her Dorothy, because she was going to follow that yellow brick road.
Without thinking, totally out of control, she ripped his button fly open and reached
down to capture the huge, hard length within.
“Oh fuck, Christie, no. Oh no. Holy fuck!” Greg ran. He didn’t push her away, or try to settle her down, he literally ripped away from her and ran, slightly limping, for the door.
Hot and desperate, but still seeing the humor of the situation because she knew him so well, she tore off after him, intent on playing with his body in a way that she had never even played with herself. It was go time, and she was ready for the game to begin.
“You have to calm down,” Greg called as she stopped on the porch and looked around, trying to figure out where he’d gone. “I can’t do what I have to do if you don’t play fair, Christie!”
“Greg, I trust you. You know that. And I want to trust you to make love to me. I’m really fucking horny, Greg. Really, really fucking horny. Like…it’s a thing. It kind of hurts I am so horny. I’ve literally never felt this horny. I haven’t even said horny this many times in all my life. That is saying something. Get over here so I can play with you.”
“Great googly moogly,” she heard. A tree off to her right shook.
She kicked off her shoes and ran in that direction. At the base, she saw Greg climbing higher into the tree. Laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation took over. She bent with huge body chuckles.
“What are you doing?” she asked, out of breath.
“I made you a promise. But I cannot keep that promise if you get all hot and bothered on me. You’re supposed to be shy and hesitant. I prepared for shy and hesitant!”
She laughed again, eyeing the branches. Fingers curled around the hem of her dress, she thought about lifting it enough so that she could climb the tree after him and then yank him down like a stubborn raccoon. “I’m not afraid, Greg,” she said seriously. “For some reason, with you I’m not afraid at all. Not even of sex. I was, don’t get me wrong. I was nervous. But…something else is taking over and I think I just need to express it.”
“No.” The branches shook. Greg climbed up a bit higher. “When women get all hot and bothered, they get crazy. And that’s fine. I can do a wild tumble. But not when I’m supposed to be abstinent. Give me a break, Christie, please!” he was whining at the end. “Even your voice is sexy. You gotta calm down, or I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m serious.”
Christie leaned against the tree, feeling the rough bark and closing her eyes at the contrast between that and this raging desire stealing her breath and pounding her heart. “I’ve never felt like this, Greg. I’m desperate to show you.”
“Me, too, but I made a promise. I’m a man of my word, and I will sleep in a tree to prove it if I have to.” His laughter made the branches shake. “Only you. Only you can chase a man up a tree, Christie. God, I love you. So much.”
The sweetness, and the hilariousness, of the moment softened the pulsing need. With effort, she pushed it back down, making it simmer uncomfortably in her throbbing lady bits. She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll be good. I’d probably freak out right before the final act, anyway.”
“I think you turned your brain off, actually, so you’d probably get satisfaction without acknowledging the lead up. That might make it worse down the road.”
“Look at you, Professor.”
“I made that up, but it might be true.”
She laughed and closed her eyes as she ran her hands down her fiery middle. “So no penetration, but will you touch me?”
A low moan sounded above her. Muttering to the tune of, “How do I get myself into these things,” drifted down. The branches shook as he lowered himself from the tree.
“I can’t believe you climbed a tree.” Christie stepped away.
“I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t think you’d chase me outside, but you did. I figured you’d chase me through the field.”
“I know how to climb trees.”
“That occurred to me when I was halfway up.” Greg dangled from a branch before dropping down, falling mostly on his good foot. He eyed her warily. “Are you going to behave? Because I’m serious, I need to cut this night short if not. I won’t be able to make good on my promise, and it’s important to me that I do. Regardless of what you might decide to…try.”
“Like…anal play?”
Greg’s delicious upper body flexed and his hands curled into fists. With eyes squinted shut, he said in a pained voice, “Why would you say something like that to me right now?”
She laughed and stepped toward him to slide her arm around his middle. He flinched away from her at first, then looked down with startled eyes. With an evil chuckle, she said, “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“Try.” His arm fell around her shoulders. “I swear, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
“A little dramatic, hmm?”
He laughed and led the way back into the house. In the warmth of the living room, he brushed her hair away from her face. “So…my plans are in disarray. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I’ll be good.”
“I don’t want you to be good. I want you to express yourself. Which makes things a little dicey for me. You are so damn sexy it should be illegal.” He bent to her. A trail of fire dragged across her collarbone in the wake of his lips. Heat ignited again, sending shooting sparks down her middle.
“Can I touch you?” Greg asked as softly.
“Yes, please.” She tilted her head back to give him room. Large hands slid across her back and then down, cupping her butt. Tingles mixed with the warmth gave her goosebumps. He massaged as he bit and licked up her throat, pulling her body into his warm heat.
She felt his pant line to his hips, and then applied pressure. As he hadn’t buttoned back up, the fly parted more and his jeans slipped down.
“Hmmm,” Greg said, running his hands up her arms. “I am refraining from asking you after every move if what I am doing is okay.” He straightened up, grabbed the back of her head firmly, and then kissed her deeply, turning up the passion. His tongue played with her as his other hand found her butt again, kneading her lower half into his. “If you want me to do that, though, I will. If that gives you some sort of checks and balances…”
The firmness of his touch wet her panties, but the raw manliness of him, and his size and strength, started to interrupt the pleasure with uncertainty. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
He kissed her again as his hands slid down over her breasts, lighting her up with a shock of pleasure. She moaned into his mouth and settled her hands on the rise of his butt.
“Is that okay?” he asked in a husky voice, his thumbs running over her taut nipples. Pleasure built then, tightening her core. The throbbing grew worse.
“Yes,” she whispered, bending to push his pants further down. They broke free from his muscular thighs and fell to the ground.
“Hmm,” he said again, bending to suck on her neck lightly as one of his hands went down to her outer thigh. “This?”
“Mhm.” She ran her hands over his large shoulders as that hand jumped from the outside, to the inside of the other thigh. It moved up slowly, burning her where it touched, and leaving only intense pleasure in its wake. “This?” he whispered.
“Yes, Greg.” She ran her hands through his hair and then clutched before dragging his face up to hers to connect, hard and heavy, with his lips.
“Oh fuck, that’s not okay,” Greg said in his pained voice. His hands went to her shoulders and he straightened his arms, having her stepping back. “Not okay.” He bent at the waist, completely flexed. He might’ve had a bullet wound for all the agony he was displaying. “I need to come real quick. Otherwise I won’t be able to focus. Excuse me.”
Christie blinked as he stepped out of his pants and turned toward the stairs. His large cock was straining against tight gray boxer briefs, making her eyes stick like a half-sucked lollipop to a kid’s hair. This time there was no uncertainly. Not even a sliver. It was all curiosity.
And a little disbelief that he was so comfortable with her that he wo
uld excuse himself from a sexual encounter to go and masturbate. Who did that?
The smile came from her toes as she followed him up quietly, wanting to see. Looking in the door of his bedroom, her breath caught at the sight of his body. His lower half was just as defined and perfect of the upper, with strong, well-made thighs and tight, proportionate calfs. As he pulled down his briefs, his large cock bobbed out and was quickly encased in his strong hand. His eyes closed in ecstasy as he stroked quickly.
The pounding in her core was back, harder than ever. The uncertainly was completely gone. Not even a trace. She wanted that hard length inside her with a need she’d never experienced before.
Slipping into the room, fascinated by him pleasuring himself, she waited until he moaned a little before sliding her hands up his back. He didn’t even flinch. His eyes didn’t open. “I figured you’d come find me.”
“Then why didn’t you stay down there?”
“I wanted you to make the choice. I didn’t want… I don’t know Christie.” His hand slowed, but he didn’t turn to her. Nor did he open his eyes. “I’m trying to be conscious of what you went through. I’m not really sure how to tread lightly because my brain is all fried. You’re…my dream girl. I don’t want to screw up.”
“You do need to come. You’re cracking.” Christie wiped the unexplained tears out of her eyes and lowered his underwear completely to the floor. “Let me take over. It’s time for me to share a little of the responsibility.”
She slid her palm against the velvety smooth skin of his manhood. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, his eyes opened and found hers. She now understood why he’d kept them closed. He must’ve known the raging desire that made them burn, all consuming and intense. But there was another emotion caught in his gaze. Deep and heartfelt, the love he felt for her showed strongly, clutching her heart and encasing her soul.
She pulled at his neck until his lips moved against hers, softly. She ran her hands up his chest, out to his shoulders and then down his arms, feeling the passion build in the kiss again. Feeling his manhood poke her, causing tingles to spread out from the point of contact and across her skin. Reaching his wrists, she guided them around her, and then tossed them upwards. Getting the hint, he captured her zipper.
Conquering Love Page 17
