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“Like running?”
“Yes! But more.” Her wild gaze darts around the barn as she searches for words for a feeling she doesn’t have to explain because I’m right there with her. “It was perfect.”
I sit back on the seat as she bounces around on the balls of her feet with boundless energy. A cowbell accompanied by a familiar beat filters through the barn and an idea springs to mind. Leaning over toward the workbench, I crank up the volume as “Honky Tonk Women” by The Rolling Stones filters in the air between us.
She nods in approval. “Good one.”
“Glad you agree. Show me whatcha got.”
She rears her head back. “’Scuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb, Scottie.”
“Are you nuts? I’m not dancing for you.”
“Oh, yes, you are. Do that dance you told me about.”
“Cumbia? Hell no, this isn’t even the right beat. That’s a one, two, three dance, and it’s a bit slower.”
“You owe me,” I drawl.
“Oh, now we’re in favor mode? You taught me how to ride a horse, not cure cancer.” She puts her hands on the curves of her hips, puffing her chest out as I stare on in expectation.
“Either you dance, or I dance, and I promise you that will embarrass you more.”
“Don’t have any moves, cowboy?” She taunts.
“This song isn’t long enough for you to be boxing my balls, Scottie.”
“Jesus.” She shuts her eyes tightly as her hips start to sway a little. She bursts out with nervous laughter, and I know in this moment I will never love another human being the way I love her.
“Dance for me,” I beckon as she opens her eyes, her smile dying as she reads my plea.
“Lord, you could talk a nun into joining a sex club. You’re too damn pretty for your own good.”
That earns her a chuckle.
“Fine, but this is for you, Mullins,” she declares before she shimmies a little. Sitting back on my bike, my grin grows wide when she begins to dip her hips, swaying from side to side, pivoting on the quick heel she taps behind her before switching to the other side. Boot clad, she twists in front of me, back and forth, all arms and hips, stumbling a little on her count before she throws everything into it and blows. My. Fucking. Mind.
Tossing her shoulders back, she finally meets my watchful gaze as she moves toward me in a confident strut that has my dick at attention in seconds. Her subtle smile is still there, but it’s in her eyes that I see the shift from rolling waves to tide, and I get swept away. In them, for the first time since I kissed her in that hotel room months ago, is what I’ve been searching for—permission.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Katy
I feel it, damn do I ever feel it as I sway my hips to the sexy beat and move my feet double-time. I settle somewhere between Cumbia and comfortable and let my body do the rest, as I dance like I haven’t in years. I’m well aware he’s watching, but I can’t bring myself to be embarrassed with as freeing as it feels. Dancing has always been my thing, and I used to jump at the opportunity. Never in a million years did I imagine I would find the same joy in it, or that the draw of it would make me feel this sexy. I’m on fire for this feeling, the feeling, the need, the all-consuming desire that fills me when he’s near, and the freedom that comes with letting myself love him. Placing my hands on my hips, I sink down a little, left to right before my eyes snap to his.
He’s no longer smiling.
Unable to look away, I ignore any voice, any rampant thought, any red light, as he steps off his bike, his hands idle at his sides.
Flaming amber traces every line of my body, and all noise falls silent when the song ends. I halt my movement, standing mere feet away from him before I give in completely.
“I’m in love with you,” I declare. “Damn me to hell for it, but I’m in love with you, Christopher Briggs, and I’m tired of not being able to say it.” He flinches visibly as if he wasn’t expecting to hear it, while I stand there uncovered between us.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I pull at my hair, giving him a helpless look. “Jesus, forgive me. Please forgive me.”
In two steps he’s in front of me, his fingers releasing mine as he grips my hair with his fist, holding my mouth an inch from his. Back pressed to the counter, he searches my eyes as his convey every imaginable emotion. “Say it again.” It’s a demand—one that I oblige with every beat of my selfish heart. “I’m in love with you. I love you.” The pain in his expression morphs into fiery satisfaction as he leans in erasing the distance between us.
“Bri—”
He crushes our mouths together. There is nothing gentle about his kiss. This is passion, doused in kerosene and set on fire. It’s a declaration of war, and I’m nowhere near ready for the feel of it, but I take it all as he hungrily sweeps my mouth with his tongue. Blinded by my addiction, I sink into him. There is only Briggs and me and this fire that rages between us, on the verge of suffocating us both.
Warmth spreads between my thighs, and I try to grapple with the weight of his kiss, sliding my hands over his shoulders and down his muscular back. In seconds I’m up on that workbench, my legs hooked around his waist as he furiously kisses me, and I match him lick for delicious lick. Never in my life have I been kissed this way, and I can’t stop taking as I rip at his arms, his chest, my fingers settling behind his neck as I pull him closer. It’s not enough. His warm hands are everywhere, his fingers exploring, kneading, until he works the knot on my shirt, tugging it free. Our lips only separate when he peels it off of me in one swift move. I’m exposed in a way I haven’t been in forever, and all I want is for him to see me. For the first time in months, I don’t want to hide.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he rips at the clasp of my bra, before his lips descend again. I’m bare, my breaths coming rapidly. My chest rises as he cups a breast, pulling it into his mouth, sucking so hard I feel the pulse between my legs.
He’s ravenous, and I watch him feed off me as if I’m the breath of life. His black lashes flutter as he nips at my nipple before taking half of my offered breast into his mouth and covering it with the whole of his tongue. Whimpering at the feel, I grind myself into the vee of his hips, into his erection. He jerks at the contact, and I reach between us, gripping the bulge in my hand. He lets out a slow breath, lifting his eyes to meet mine. Undoing his button, I slowly pull down his zipper while he hisses through his teeth, planting his hands on the table on each side of me. He’s staring right at me as I answer his unspoken question.
“You, I want you,” I whisper, as I dip in and hold his thick length in my hand. My mouth waters as I pump his cock between us, using my free hand to caress the bare skin of his rock-hard ass.
His legs give a little at my touch, and his eyes drift shut as I nip at his lips, his chin, his neck, and the trail from his pulse point back to his lips, where his tongue waits for mine. Eager fingers trail from my calf to the top of my thighs in a caress before they push under the hem of my shorts. It only takes a second for him to find me soaked, and a string of curses fall from his lips. Heart pounding wildly, I cling to him as he presses his fingers inside me, agonizingly slow. Pulling away from my needy arms, he carefully watches my reaction to his touch.
“Who’s touching you?” His voice is pained, and I know he’s remembering a time I want so desperately to forget.
“You,” I answer without hesitation.
“Who’s inside you?”
“You, Chris,” I whimper.
My chest is heaving so hard; I can’t stop it, and I don’t want to. I feel like I’m going to combust by the look in his eyes alone. I’m being licked by flames as his thick digits glide in and out of me slowly, driving me out of my mind. He’s raw with his desire—primitive—and he’s watching my every reaction as he learns my responses. In seconds I begin to tighten around his fingers.
“Please,” I say in a breath that touches his lips. And in the next, I’m in his arms while he grabs a large blanket on the shelf behind us. Wrapped around him, I kiss every inch of available skin as he carries me just past the barn and out to the pasture. Moonlight beams off his dark skin as I let my lips roam his shoulders, his bicep, before sucking the side of his neck.
