AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s it, darlin’. Ride me. All the way.”
He repeated the motion, elongating the contact, forcing her to take more. Their combined gasps filled the barn, drowning out the soft sounds of horses shifting and pigeons roosting. The world dwindled until it only consisted of his touch, his breath, his will. She locked her ankles and pulled closer. It wasn’t close enough. Every thought, every sensation, her world focused on the point where her hips met his. The pleasure built until it was too much. Something was happening.
“Help!”
“Go with it,” he whispered hoarsely. She opened her eyes. His gaze locked with hers. Had she not been so far gone, his expression would have frightened her. He shifted their bodies until his hand could reach between them. His fingers grazed her swollen flesh, tracing the curves lightly, sending whispery darts of delight weaving through the heavy drive of pleasure grinding through her loins. With a firm tap on her clit, he forced all the sensation rampaging through her body to coalesce in one burning, aching, unbearably sensitive point of agony.
“Now,” he ordered. At the same time, he thrust his hips into hers, grabbed her swollen clit in his fingers, pinching and tugging with relentless demand. One she was helpless to refuse. Her senses shattered on a scream that echoed forever.
Chapter Eight
He knew the minute the reality of the situation hit her. Her body, leaning so softly against his, stiffened one muscle at a time, starting at the base of her spine and spreading outward.
He sighed. “I suppose this is where you start fretting on my reputation?”
“Would you think me horribly selfish if I admit I’m more concerned with my own?”
He laughed softly. “I suppose I could make allowances.”
Her “thanks” was a dry husk of embarrassment.
His stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. She leapt on the sound like a kitten meeting a grasshopper. “You’re hungry.”
Her words vibrated against his chest.
“I told you, darlin’. I’ve been dreaming on that cobbler since sun-up.”
“I gave the last to Aaron.”
“You don’t sound guilty.”
The jerk of her shoulders under his hand could have been laughter. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s the most insincere apology I’ve heard in all my days.”
“Would I be redeemed if I admit I baked a cake this morning?”
“Depends on what kind.”
This time, he knew it was a laugh. Husky and sweet, slightly smothered by his shirt. “You’re not fooling me, you know.”
“Not fooling you how?” he asked.
“I heard your heart jump a beat when I mentioned cake.”
“That’s cheating.”
She looked up from his chest. Despite the redness of her cheeks, she met his gaze squarely. Not much kept the woman down. He admired that.
“I bet I could ask for anything right now and you’d give it to me,” she told him.
“That’d be a sucker’s bet, so I won’t be taking you up on it,” he countered. “But it doesn’t have anything to do with that cake you baked.”
He didn’t think her face could get any redder, but she proved him wrong. “I’ll make you a deal.”
She about strangled on the words, but he admired the fortitude that kept her fighting when she was so obviously handicapped by modesty.
“Shoot.”
“You don’t mention my outrageous behavior here, and I’ll put frosting on that cake.”
Saliva filled his mouth. “Chocolate cake with frosting?”
“Yes.” She pushed out of his arms, collided with Shameless’ side, and sidestepped out of range as if she expected him to be getting ideas again.
“You drive a hard bargain.” He was hard put to hold his laughter in. Did she really think stepping out of his arms would make him forget how good she felt?
“Is it a deal?” she asked, swatting her skirts as if the wrinkles were responsible for her lapse from proper behavior.
“Depends,” he drawled.
“On what?”
“On whether you plan on doing it again.”
“Mr. MacIntyre!”
He stared at her. Her skirt was hopelessly wrinkled. Her hair was half down. Her neck sported a small love bruise. Her lips were swollen. On the whole, she was the spitting image of a woman who’d been tumbled in the barn. And she was back to calling him Mister? He reached out and straightened her bun. It immediately lurched to the other side. “Don’t you think you could bring yourself to call me Asa?”
Her hands flew to her hair. “Oh, my goodness!” She centered the knot of hair on her head and held on for dear life. “I must look a fright.”
“I like it.”
She glared at him while clinging to her hair as if it alone had the last grip on her dignity. “I can’t believe you let me stand here, carrying on a conversation, while totally, totally…unpresentable!”
“There’s not a thing wrong with your looks.”
If glares could kill, he’d be dead for his teasing. She released her hair and started fussing with her clothes. Small gasps of dismay punctuated her twisting this way and that. Finally, the burst of energy ended in a total stillness. “I’ll never make it back to the house.”
