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He was so perfect. She was not. “Can I have my coat please?” she asked, sitting up and still holding the sheet to her breasts.
“I can’t believe you’re shy,” he said, collecting her nightgown and coat and carrying it to her. “I’ve heard you sunbathe topless on friends’ yachts.”
Hannah wrinkled her nose, unable to imagine going topless in public.
But then, her father had been very strict when Hannah was growing up. He’d frequently reminded her that her mother had been a lady and Hannah would be a lady, too. Which meant no short shorts or revealing tops. She hadn’t been allowed to date until she was sixteen and even then it had to be on a group date. Anyone she wanted to date had to come to the ranch and be grilled for an hour by her dad, so mostly, no boys in Bandera wanted to.
“It’s chilly,” she said, taking the coat from him and sliding one arm into a sleeve, and then the other before knotting the sash tightly about her waist.
Head held high, Hannah rose from the bed, prepared to dash out of the bedroom, but Zale caught her by the wrist as she passed, pulling her toward him.
“You keep surprising me,” he said hoarsely, holding her against him. The coat provided little protection. She could feel the entire length of him, from his thick chest to his warm torso and firm, narrow hips.
She sucked in a breath, heat surging to her cheeks as his body hardened against her. “Is that good or bad?”
The expression in his eyes was possessive. “Both.” He drew his thumb across her mouth, his gaze fixed to her soft lips as they parted in a silent gasp.
“How can it be both good and bad?” she whispered, licking her dry lips.
“You’re more than I expected.” He hesitated. “Which is good.”
“So what is bad?”
He slowly dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, tugging it down, making her feel alarmingly exposed. “How much I want you. Still.”
His words and touch were unbearably erotic. She shuddered in response, her defenses caving. He made her feel so carnal. Made her want all the things that were forbidden.
Like him.
“I’ve just had you, three times in the past nine hours. I shouldn’t need you again,” he added, his voice deepening, rougher than usual, even as his shaft rose against her belly, an insistent nudge that made her feel weak. Every time he touched her, she melted. Just one touch and she became his.
His, she repeated silently, dazed by the waves of pleasure surging through her one after the other. He made her feel drunk but it was on passion and emotion.
She’d never felt anything close to this with anyone, and she didn’t think she’d ever feel this way about anyone else, either.
“And that’s bad?” she asked unsteadily.
He tugged the coat back from her shoulder, exposing one full pale breast.
“Yes.” He cupped her breast and she exhaled at the warmth of his hand against her cool skin. He stroked the soft underside, a light teasing caress that made her nerve endings dance and her lower back tingle.
“But you don’t really need me,” she whispered, trying her best to stay coherent—rational, knowing she needed to focus. But thinking was virtually impossible when she was so overwhelmed by sensation. “You’ve had plenty—”
“But apparently not plenty enough,” he contradicted, as his erection grew bigger, thicker.
She rubbed against him, feeling the broad rounded tip, remembering how amazing it had felt last night as he entered her, slowly, deeply.
The memory made her shudder and he groaned as she rubbed against him.
With a muttered oath he caught her hips in his hands, pressed her even more firmly to him, his breathing ragged. “I don’t want to want you this much.”
“I don’t want to want you this much, either,” she flung breathlessly at him, as his hand moved down to cup her backside. He was kneading her cheek, squeezing and lifting the cheek away from the other, as if to part her legs and make room for him between.
The sensation of his hands on her butt, the feeling of being opened for him, was so provocative her legs nearly gave away.
“Yes, you do,” he answered, lowering his head to kiss her, his lips and teeth nipping at her lips. “You are so hot you’re almost on fire.”
It was true. Little stars exploded in her head and Hannah pressed her thighs tight, sending rivulets of pleasure everywhere. She wasn’t just hot, she was wet, and desperate for him to fill her, answering the terrible ache throbbing inside of her. “You’re deliberately turning me on, making it impossible to function—”
He cut her off with a kiss, the pressure of his mouth parting her lips, his tongue taking her mouth as if it belonged to him. She loved the way he kissed her—hard, fierce—and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him closer. With his cool tongue in her mouth and his hands against her heated skin she thought she’d let him do anything, have anything.
