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“You shouldn’t be here,” he told her.
She froze. “Why not?”
“You hit your head.”
She waved that away. “It takes my sister, like, two seconds to heal a concussion.”
“Goldie, I’m… You…”
She stretched out straight on top of him. There was no room to maneuver, and he was still too weak to push her off.
She rested her forehead on his and closed her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re not a wolf pelt on the side of the road.”
He shook his head, rocking them both, rocking her lips closer. “I’m so glad you’re not a pancake under a horse trailer. I’m so sorry. I?—”
“You didn’t knock it over.”
“Goldie, you should go.”
Her eyes flew open. “Do youwantme to go?”
He could not tell her yes. He shook his head with the slightest twitch.
Triumph lit her eyes. “Good.”
She tilted her head and kissed him. It was a chaste, quiet meeting of lips.
He pulled away. “We can’t.”
She growled in frustration.
He chuckled. “You sound like a wolf.”
“Why can’t we? We both almost died. Why don’t we grasp at life or whatever the hell that saying is?” She put a finger to his lips. “And don’t tell me you’re taking advantage of me. Becausenow you’re the one locked up, and I’m free as a bird.” She kissed him hard.
“Maybe you’re taking advantage of me,” he said desperately.
She pulled back. “Am I?”
She rocked her hips into his, and he lost whatever good intentions he’d tried to assemble. “God, please do.”
She kissed him, and, as she did, she shimmied out of her jeans.
The last clothes he’d worn were abandoned in the stables back home, so it was the work of moments to pull the blanket aside and feel her skin against his. She brushed his healing chest, and he winced.
She levered up. “Sorry.”
“Don’t stop,” he said desperately, his hips straining toward her. The scent of her and the warmth of her against him were enough to light him on fire.
He tried to figure out foreplay as he unbuttoned the feminine pink blouse she wore. He could barely get off his back, but he wanted to rev her up as high as he could. They knew each other by now. He knew how sensitive her breasts were and how to stroke the electric spot where her jaw met her neck. If he could just…
But she didn’t wait. She sank on him almost immediately, and he lost all thought and breath as she began to move.
She didn’t kiss him or touch him anywhere else, just leaned a little forward and trapped his head in the curtains of her hair.
He couldn’t look away as she found a rhythm she liked.
This felt strangely more intimate than the times before when they were plastered to each other.
