Page 35 of Under Fire in Big Sky

From scratch?

Her mouth watered in anticipation of that meal.

She dried her hands and turned around as the bathroom door opened. Eli came out in nothing except a towel wrapped around his hips, with steam trailing behind him.

Everything inside Olivia tightened, nerves humming. Whenever she saw him without clothes, it still took her breath away. Broad shoulders. A well-defined muscular chest. Narrow waist. Taut abs. Several old scars added to his appeal, reminding her what kind of man he was—one who endeavored to protect people regardless of the cost to himself.

It occurred to her how to erase the awkwardness. They needed to do what came instinctively to them. Give in. Have sex.

What could be more natural?

Eli went to his bag and rummaged through it. “Sorry. Forgot to take a change of clothes in there.”

“No need to apologize.” Ignoring the odd ache in her chest, she crossed the room. “I’ve seen you naked plenty of times.”

Holding clothes in his hands, he looked at her. His eyes darkened, but his jaw hardened.

Only inches separating them, she stood there, unbearably aware of her heart pounding in her ears. She placed her hand on his warm, bare chest and slid her palm slowly down his abdomen. Tingles rushed under the surface of her skin.

He didn’t touch her, but she felt the strain in his body from holding back. She wanted to release some of the tension of

the past twenty-four hours for them both. Wanted to satisfy the craving she had for this man.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he said, a new edge to his voice.

She pulled her tank top off, tossing it behind her, and shimmied out of her shorts, but his gaze never left her face.

“Why?” She rose on the balls of her feet and brushed her mouth over his light as a feather. “What’s the worst that can happen?” She nipped his bottom lip, and he groaned. Running her fingers along the line of damp hair from his navel downward, she tugged off his towel. “I’m already pregnant.”

When she touched the length of him, felt how hard he was for her, he shuddered in response, and she knew he was still hers.

At least, for now.

His eyes flashed with heat, his gaze burning into hers. Without warning, he dropped the clothes and brought her flush against him. Then his mouth was on hers. Something between them ignited.

The hot-and-hungry kiss drove all the breath from her lungs. Diving her fingers into his hair, she held him closer, devouring him right back. She trembled in his arms, her body pulsing with sudden wild need she didn’t understand, yearning for what was about to come next.

He shoved his bag to the floor. Holding her pinned to him, he took her down to the bed. She was a quivering bundle of need. Need for him. Then he was inside her.

Together, with nothing between them, it was like they were lost in their own bubble. Pure heat. All-consuming. Connected as one.

The next morning, Eli disentangled himself from Liv and eased out of bed, careful not to wake her. He went to the window, pulled back the curtain, and stared out at the darkness. Dawn hadn’t come yet.

Everything was still and quiet. He was glad he got a room away from any other occupants. He’d parked the Ram under a lamppost, where he could easily keep an eye on it from the room.

Crossing his arms, he had no clue what to do. Making love to Olivia only made him more confused. More torn.

Eli pulled on clothes, made coffee, and started the oven. He needed to clear his head, so he could work through the situation. No better way than with baking. He set out his simple ingredients, washed his hands, and got started.

The recipe had been one of his mom’s favorites, when she was well enough to enjoy it. The dough came together quickly as he churned everything over in his head.

Before Olivia, he only wanted a woman who was around for a good time, not a long time. He preferred to keep things clean and simple. He didn’t like messy feelings and complications.

Complications led to entanglements and entanglements led to attachments.

Attachments only meant tragedy and heartbreak.

And he wanted none of it.