“Indian attacks, harsh winters, blistering summers and,” he paused, “men usually took what they wanted.”
Her smile fell. “Thanks for bursting my bubble.”
He laughed. “Sorry, I spoiled the fantasy for you, darlin’.”
“I’m sure not all men were like that. I can’t imagine any of the Coldiron men taking what they wanted.”
“What makes you say that?” he challenged. “Don’t think we could ravish a few virgins?”
She rolled her eyes and took her turn at disagreeing. “No, I don’t.”
The bottle was at his lips when he hesitated. “You clearly underestimate us.”
“You would never mistreat a woman.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” The deep pitch in his voice dropped another notch. “Because I know how to persuade a woman into giving me what I want.”
I bet you do. The drive to the ranch had her frustrated. In the bar, he was aroused and fervent for her. Now he looked as mellow as a housecat, relaxed against the seat with his legs apart, enjoying the ride. How did she get him back to being interested? “By the way,” she gave him a flirty glance. “I loved the way you were explaining virginity to me this afternoon. As if I know nothing at all about sex.”
“You know your books, Eleanor. Trashy fairy tales,” he teased.
“They are not! You should read one and see for yourself. You might learn something.”
“I doubt it.”
“And I’m nineteen.” She gave him a “get real” glance. “I’ve had some experience.”
“From the Conner kid or the guy you’re so in love with?”
“My experience didn’t come from Conner.”
He pointed towards the ranch road. “You’re about to miss the road.”
“Oh.” She flipped on the signal and waited for a car to pass before turning. “Conner threw up in the parking lot, and I went in by myself. I told you spending all that money on a dress was a waste.”
She knew he had bought the dress, and that he was watching from the fence when Conner picked her up.
“It made you happy, and that made it worth every penny.” He indulged in another guzzle and recapped the bottle. “So you’re an experienced virgin?” Something about that seemed satisfying to him.
She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so, why?” The truth was, most of her knowledge on the art of making love did indeed come from the books he labeled as trashy.
“Drive out to the cabin.”
She slowed the truck and let it roll to a stop. The cabin was just off the ranch road, and vacant except for hunting season when the family rented it to out of town hunters. “Why do you want me to drive out there?”
He shoved the whiskey bottle under the seat. “It’s the perfect place for our date.”
Perfect because it was secluded or because it was the place they had first met? She wondered if he remembered that day. “I don’t recall saying “yes” to that date,” she resisted with a hint of friskiness “I volunteered to take you home.”
“I don’t recall you saying “no” either.”
She eased off the brake and let the truck roll closer to the cabin road. “True enough.”
“Half the women in town would trade places with you in a heartbeat.” He grinned at her open mouthed expression. “After all, I’m rich, handsome and irresistible.”
“And arrogant.” Damn, she loved flirting with him. “Okay, if I accept this date,” she paused wondering if she should ask. “What can I expect?”
Against the dashboard lights, his expression changed from playful to serious. “I’ve already told you. My dates don’t end with goodnight kisses. I’ll teach you about seduction, but,” the muscles in his jaw flexed before he continued. “Not so you can seduce some other guy.”
As if, she almost laughed aloud.
“Sure, you may care for him, but it’s just infatuation. Puppy love. Nothing more.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because you’re considering taking me as a lover. Your first lover. If you really loved the guy, you would have told me to go to hell when I kissed you back at Tubs.”
All that truth and he hadn’t a clue. Now would be the logical time to tell him he was the guy she wanted to seduce. The one she trusted. The one she was in love with. But if she did, would he dismiss her feelings as puppy love or infatuation? Would it change his mind about giving her a lesson in seduction? Her confession would have to wait.
She made the turn, drove to the cabin and parked.
“Leave it running,” he said, taking her hand as he twisted around to stretch one leg out in the seat. A quick but gentle yank positioned her between his thighs. “It will be pitch black in here without the dashboard lights.
“I’m okay with that.”
He tilted her chin up and the coolness of his dark eyes made her tremble with expectancy. “No hiding,” he ordered with a tame kiss that soothed her. “Don’t be nervous. Think of this as a dance with me leading the way.”
“I have two left feet.”
“No, you don’t. I saw you dancing with Jess. You never missed a step.”
“Jess isn’t you.”
His thumb slid across her bottom lip. “Meaning?”
“I don’t get stupid when I’m around him, and,” she hesitated before finishing. “He doesn’t make me ache the way you do.”
He sucked in a ragged breath. “Are you aching now, darlin’?”
“Yes,” she confessed with a whisper.
After a long look into her eyes which seemed to penetrate her soul, he lifted her hand to his lips and grazed a kiss across her knuckles. “Seduction,” he inserted his thumb into her closed hand, and pushed up, exposing her palm. “Requires intimacy and trust,” he finished the sentence with a wet, tantalizing kiss to her palm.
“It’s about,” with his other hand, he unbuttoned the bottom button of his shirt. “Skin,” he freed two more buttons. “Against skin,” three more buttons, and slid her hand inside the shirt. “Touch me.”
The need to do just that had her hands moving over the dark dusting of hair that tickled her palms. God, he felt good! His skin was warm and smooth and she craved a taste. She lowered her lips to the rift between his pecs, and kissed downward to the ridged muscles just above his navel.
“Seduction requires,” his voice trembled with restraint. “Control.” He gently fisted her hair, and lifted her lips to his for a deep kiss that screamed of wanton intrusion. As his tongue penetrated her mouth, she understood his kiss in the bar had been a teaser.
His hands slid up her thighs, to her hips and waist, lifting the hem of her dress as she straddled him. The barrier of his jeans did little to hide his size and the painful twinge building inside her made her arch into the hardness of his erection. The rain, which had been a mist, now dashed against the truck, setting the tempo for the rhythm of a dance he knew well. His fingers squeezed the soft flesh of her butt while his hips thrust upwards, coaxing her with his hardness. “Sweet Eleanor.”
“McCrea,” his name came out as a mew of sensual frustration.
“I know, darlin’.” One hand moved up her hip to her waist, then on to cup her breast. “You need more, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
His fingers hooked in the elastic and uncovered her breasts. She didn’t pull away or hide. She wanted him to see her as no other man had.
“So perfect and beautiful.” Desire constricted his throat, making his voice rough. His thumb grazed the nipple, rousing a pleasure induced moan from her lips. He raised and kissed it just shy of the nipple.
Her eyes, closed in passion and opened to meet his. “Oh.”
His hand moved to the inside of her panties, and though he said not a word, the hypnotic gaze of his eyes convinced her it was okay to let go. It was okay to let him have what she so desperately wanted to give. “I won’t do anything you don’t want,” he reminded her and claimed her breast with his mouth. The feel of his lips sucking her nipple
brought the air from her lungs.
“More?” His question was hot against her skin.
A nod signaled her permission, and his fingers slipped into her yielding wetness. The shock of him loving her so intimately caused her to stiffen. “Relax and enjoy your first orgasm,” he murmured.
She did. Over and over, his fingers teased her body, sensually, skillfully and patiently building her pleasure until her need was met with a hoarse cry of satisfaction. Her body clenched around his fingers. “That’s it. Come for me.”
After the peak of pleasure departed, Eleanor floated back to earth to rest as a crumpled mess against his damp chest. Her strength was gone, used up by the sweet ecstasy.
“I thought you were an experienced virgin.”
“I’ve never experienced anything like you, McCrea.”
He caressed her arms and kissed the top of her head. “Wasn’t that better than goodnight kisses?” he asked.
She wiggled the dress over her breasts and raised to his naughty smile which made her flushed cheeks hotter. Still straddling him, she was acutely aware of his own unmet need. A slow gyration of her hips against his erection closed his eyes and gave her a chance to mimic his naughty smile. “Shouldn’t we do something about this?”
Tender fingers drew back her hair. “I intend to, but I’m not taking your virginity in a truck.”
Her naughty smile broke into a frown. “Does that mean our date is over?”
“It’s far from over darlin’.” He swung the truck door open and jumped to the ground, lifting her into his arms. “We’re just moving it inside.”
She wrapped her legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders.
The short run to the porch had them soaked, but neither cared. The need to finish what had been started drove them. He took the steps two at a time, stumbled through the front door, and headed for the bedroom. Tossing her on the bed, he peeled away his wet shirt and kicked off his boots.
The bare window didn’t allow much light from the black night, but faint pulses of lightning delivered flashes of his face and chest.
She welcomed his deep kiss while working to unbuckle his belt. Once it was free, she unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down. But the wet denim didn’t make the simple task easy. “Darlin’, you’re killin’ me.”
At mid-thigh, he took over, stripping them off quickly. “Stay put,” he said and disappeared into the other room.
She yanked off her boots as he returned with a Coleman lantern. He sat it on the floor and tossed a condom on the bed next to her.
Birth control. She hadn’t thought of that.
She rose to her knees, and let her eyes map out the places her hands wanted to go. She was fascinated by the hardness and beauty of his body, and the lantern gave off just enough light to make the exploration of her hands sinful. She yearned to look at him, naked in the light, touch him, hold him in her hand and feel him intimately.
He held her gaze, watching her discover his body as her palms glided over his rain soaked chest, and lower to the black briefs which hugged his privates. Past the hard V-shaped muscles of his lower stomach, and downwards.
Oh! Wow!
His face contorted with pleasure when her fingers curled around him, and closed his eyes with a moan. A clenched jaw and an inward breath enticed her to caress the length of him.
All the stories she consumed hadn’t prepared her for the physical experience of lovemaking. Sex isn’t like cooking. There’s no recipe to follow. No directions. You could read a hundred books and not know what the hell you’re doing. His lecture on sex pierced her mind, conjuring an impish grin, and a husky laugh.
McCrea’s lids peeked opened. “What?”
She teased wet kisses along his jawline, to his chin and down to his chest, hesitating long enough to add a flick of her tongue to the nipple. “Still think I can’t cook?”
A lip-biting smile decked his face. “You’re just beatin’ the batter, darlin’.”
Surprised, but not derailed, she quickened the movement of her hand into a long sensual stroke and met his lewd answer with a slow, lascivious lick from navel to sternum. “Do I get to lick the spoon?”
The fingers tangled in her hair at the nape of her neck clenched to tilt her head up. “Remember what I said about a man having limits?”
Smiling, she repeated the stroke which thrust his hips forward. “Uh-huh.”
“You’re about to push me to mine,” he said, catching her hand to stop the next stroke.
She grinned. “Spoilsport.”
“Spoilsport?” He playfully, shoved her backwards onto the bed and climbed over her. “We’ll see who’s the spoilsport.”
Giggling, she attempted an escape. “I was joking!” The delicious promise coiled desire in the pit of her belly and slowed her retreat. She loved the game, and the consequences of losing were going to be excruciatingly sweet! His hand, twice the size of hers snagged one wrist. She squirmed against him, fighting the capture of her other hand, but lost. “No!”
Above her, he waited with a corrupt smile.
She squirmed again. “I guess I’m at your mercy.”
The smile dissolved and for the longest time, he simply stared at her.
Her arms, taut from the game, relaxed. “What?”
A slight lift to the corner of his mouth which could have been mistaken for remorse triggered panic to rise in her. The night was too perfect, and she had been to brazen. Now, what? “Did I do something wrong?”
A brief frown grazed his forehead. “No. Why would you think that?”
“I thought maybe all that talk about licking spoons might have turned you off.”
A tender smile darted across his lips. “No, darlin’. I love it when you talk about licking my spoon.”
She blushed. “Then why did you stop?”
He imprisoned both wrists with a single hand and lifted her arms above her head. With his free hand, he traced her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. I had to stop and stare.” His lips followed close behind, burning a sensual path of fire down her jawline.
Relieved he wasn’t having second thoughts about making love to her, she basked in the way his lips made her feel. Attractive. Desired. Loved.
He tasted the shallow dip of her lower neck, and the sensitive valley between her breasts. He shifted lower without releasing her hands to the dress she thought was a hindrance, but the thin wet material clinging to the rise of her nipples like a second skin, posed no problem for McCrea. The pointed sensation of his teeth raking over her peak through the garment arched her back, and he made sure he gave each breast the same expert attention. His was nothing like her amateur foreplay. “McCrea.” The guttural cry gained her an intermission by way of a long, hard kiss that left her panting for more.
Catching the thin material of the dress between his teeth, he unveiled her from breast to belly inch by inch. Eleanor knew she was completely at his mercy, and playing the captive amplified the intensity of his every move. She was his to do with as he pleased, and the thought made her body writhe beneath him.
His knees at her waist shifted wider and allowed his hand to glide downwards towards the apex of her thighs. The earlier demonstration of his dexterous fingers vaulted her pelvis upward in expectancy and urged a moan from her throat. Under her panties, his fingers advanced into her folds to graze her already sensitive nub. Persistently, but softly he manipulated and filled her until the threat of a climactic spiral edged closer. “Please, don’t make me─” her voice broke with the plea.
“Come,” he finished with another plunge which curved her body again.
In the truck, he played her body with the skill of a master violinist, hitting all the right notes at just the right time. Even now, he had her body humming with a sensual song. But it wanted more. Craved more. “Please.” Her head twisted from side to side. “I want you.”
He released her hands and slipped the dress past her hips, thighs and ankles. Her wispy panties came next, followed by his briefs.
On his knees, he tore open the foil packet, removed the condom and rolled it up his shaft. Its size had grown and caused her eyes to widen with a silent question.
He bent to kiss her lower belly, and his tongue traced a ring around her navel before moving over her. With his knee, he divided her legs and pressed his erection against her. “Your body was made for mine.”
The erotic encounter of hard and soft brought a moan to her lips. Her nails raked down his chest, to his waist and around to latch onto the hard muscles of his buttocks as her hips reached to his with an instinctual urge to become one.
He shifted his weight to a hand beside her head, and the other found the scant space between the small of her back and the mattress. The texture of his slightly calloused palm lifting her upward opened her legs in an unspoken invitation.
“That’s it,” he exhaled against her ear. “Open up for me.” With that sensual command, he entered her. Tore past the threshold of her virginity and claimed her.
A searing pain, far worse than she expected briefly overpowered her desire, but she endured knowing it was part of her body merging with his. She buried her face in his chest and held her breath, fighting past the discomfort and openness that came from giving herself to McCrea. Her lover. The man who would always be in her mind. “It won’t last long, baby.”
The penetrating sting lessened, and the sweet desire she had felt before slowly crept back in. Its fire torqued in the pit of her stomach and burned down to where their bodies joined. The delectable ache controlled her once again. She twisted her hips with a petition of his name. “McCrea.”
“Are you ready?”
She knew now the control he spoke of and that he was exercising it at great cost. His whole body vibrated with a restraint she couldn’t comprehend. When she answered him with a nod, he dropped to an elbow to kiss her forehead and drew back. The friction lifted her head up with a gratifying moan.
He shuddered and pushed into her again. “So tight,” he whispered against another thrust. “And so damn sweet.”
Hoarse cries of an unfamiliar voice escaped her lips, and she transformed in his arms. He took down the fortress around her heart and freed her. The cold, lonely world she knew before disappeared. With McCrea’s love, everything was possible. All things were new, and she was his, and though he hadn’t said it, she knew he loved her. How could he not? Everything he was doing reflected it. His touch. His words. His kiss. His eyes, all spoke of it.
Goodnight Kisses Page 8
