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On second thought, she didn’t want to know.
The jiggle he gave her legs as he reached for something in his boot upset her balance. With a gasp, she felt her arm give out and she landed on her back.
“Now that’s a sight.”
She was sure it was. It wasn’t every day a woman found herself laid out on the kitchen table in broad daylight, with her skirts hitched up around her waist and a fully dressed man standing between her thighs staring at all there was to see. She squeezed her eyes shut. The one corner of her soul that wasn’t writhing in mortification wished heartily she’d put on her fancy underwear this morning. The silk ones with the expensive lace.
Something cool and narrow touched her thigh. She jerked upright only to immediately fall back. “Is that a knife?”
“Yup.” His drawl was unconcerned. His hand on her midriff stopped her next lunge.
“Just lie still darlin’ and we’ll be getting this problem out of the way.”
“I assure you I don’t have any problem down…there.” At least, she hoped not.
The knife began an upward slide. She heard the hiss of material parting, and suddenly had an excellent idea of what he thought was a problem.
“Are you crazy?” she gasped.
“Nope.”
“I can’t be naked in the kitchen!” There was a light tug as the knife hit the thickness of the drawstring waistband, and then the cool waft of the morning air on her hip.
“I wasn’t shooting for fully bare assed.”
As if that was some comfort. “I absolutely refuse to allow this to continue.” The knife slid under her opposite leg and slid through the cotton like it was nothing.
“It’s a little late to be complaining.”
Not in her book. While he was distracted returning the knife to its sheath, she wiggled toward the side of the table and freedom.
He stopped her simply by using his grip on her legs to pull her hips back toward him. “Hold still, darlin’. I’ve never done this before and I’m real interested in getting it right.”
She glanced at his face and immediately wished she hadn’t. He was looking at her. There. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed as if she could somehow block out the image of his expression. Hard. Intent. Lustful.
Nothing could block out the sensation of his calloused fingertips drifting up her sensitive thighs until they reached her hips. She couldn’t suppress a shiver and the goose bumps that sprang up along the path his hands had taken. His thumbs drew circles around her hipbones, grazing the creases in her thighs. With each pass, little sparks of sensation migrated inward from the spot. Her woman’s flesh felt tingly and started to swell. The only thing that saved her from complete mortification was the fact that her pantaloons still preserved her modesty.
She hadn’t even gotten the prayer of gratitude formed in her mind before that thin cotton was whisked away. Her eyes sprang open. Out of the corner of one, she saw the white fabric drift to the floor.
“Oh my God!” she gasped in shock, her hands flying to cover her privates. “What are you doing?”
As she watched, he lowered himself to his knees. His face was just above her hips, within inches of her most private place. Between the curves of her breasts, she met his hot gaze. Before her scandalized eyes, he tipped his hat back, and smiled. “Why darlin’, I’m planning on getting acquainted with your sweet little pussy.”
“You most certainly are not!” She jerked to a sitting position, aided by the way his big hands anchored her thighs.
He glanced up as she propped herself up on her elbows. “You planning on watching?”
“Oh my…no!” She took a swing at him. All she accomplished was to knock off his hat.
“A pity.” He was totally unrepentant. “I think I might have enjoyed that.”
As she glared at him, he leaned forward. She felt his breath on her…pussy a second before the touch of his tongue.
He touched, swirled, and then slid through the soft folds in a leisurely lap.
It was like watching a train wreck happen. Her dignity and reputation were going to hell in a handbasket, and all she could do was stare. Fascinated.
She thought he would be repulsed, but instead he seemed enthralled. Looking up at her, he ran his tongue around his lips, as if collecting every morsel of her flavor. His gaze was serious. He held hers as he leaned forward again. And very slowly, deliberately, he stuck his tongue out. It seemed to take forever for his tongue to reach her. Her breath caught in her throat as he rested it against the pink flesh swelling at the top of her pussy. She stopped breathing altogether when he fluttered it there, shooting a maelstrom of sensation from her groin through her body. She tried to shift away, but he followed, sucking the flange of flesh into the heat of his mouth. Her world reduced to a spiral of sensation that started out narrowed and intense, and spread outward like wildfire throughout her body. She wanted to pull away. She wanted to shove closer. She settled for a combination of the two, alternately pushing toward his mouth and then pulling away when the feeling got too intense.
