Page 31 of Hot Times in Heart Falls, Vignettes Vol 3

Ginny looked up at him, her eyes dark and unguarded. “Then make me feel, Tucker.”

So he did.

He kissed his way down her body, slow and thorough. He paused at her breasts, letting his tongue trace circles that made her arch. He buried his face against them, savouring every curve, every sound she made.

Then lower.

Ginny cried out softly as his mouth found her sex. Her thighs tensed, her fingers threaded through his hair, her back arched. He didn’t stop. Not when she begged, not when she whispered his name.

“Goddess. You’re so gorgeous.” He used his fingertips to stroke with slow, teasing precision, then slipped two fingers inside her, the rhythm building in time with his tongue. The sounds she made echoed in the trailer until he was hard and aching and so turned on he was ready to explode without a single touch.

When she finally shattered, it was with a sob and a laugh, her body trembling under his hands.

Tucker rested his forehead against her belly, one arm wrapped around her waist. His head was spinning. Hopefully she was as off-kilter as he was.

“Stars?” he asked, the word coming out breathless.

“Whole galaxies,” she whispered. She stroked her fingers through his hair gently once, twice, then tightened her grip so she could angle his head toward her. “Your turn.”

6

She hadn’t expected to feel this light.

Not after this day, where grief had pressed into every breath, with too much whiskey-soaked sugar, the sharp sting of off-key singing, and the quiet desperation of keeping her best friend from staging a one-woman floor show. Not even after that kiss—careful, hot, and full of history—had she thought lightness was even possible.

But here she was. Naked. Warm. Tangled in Tucker’s arms in the dim, hay-scented interior of the horse trailer. Laughter lingered in her throat, and her skin tingled with pleasure.

“You’re warm,” he murmured against her hair, arms locked tight around her as she shifted against him. “That blanket’s doing overtime.”

She smiled into his shoulder, body curled close. “Might be me. I’ve been told I run hot.”

“Can confirm.”

His voice was low, rumbling through her bones in the best way. She tilted her head, brushed her lips against his in a teasing kiss. “Then let’s turn up the heat.”

His eyes darkened, though the smile didn’t leave his mouth. “Bossy.”

“Motivated,” she echoed, throwing his earlier words right back at him.

The next kiss found its way easily, slow and exploratory at first. Their mouths met in lazy rhythm, tongue stroking against tongue, hands wandering over skin like reacquainting with a favorite map. But the trailer was cramped, and as desire built, space became a problem.

Tucker eased himself onto the edge of the bunk, feet braced, legs spread to make room. Ginny straddled him, settling on his thighs, her knees bracketing his hips. It took some manoeuvering.

“Okay, wait—your leg there—no, not like that—ow, my elbow—” she half laughed-half grunted as her shoulder hit the tack wall and her knee smacked into the saddle bench.

Tucker grinned. “Sexy.”

She drew back with mock offense. “Are you mocking my trailer seduction technique?”

“Never. Just admiring the display of coordination.”

“Good. Burn it into your brain.” Her eyes sparkled as she arched an eyebrow. “You’ll want to remember this forever.”

And then he kissed her again—hard, deep, the kind of kiss that made her forget she had knees, never mind where the trailer’s walls were.

“Hang on,” he murmured, reaching behind him to rummage through his duffel. His fingers closed around something, and he pulled it out with a victorious smile.

She squinted. “A condom?”