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“You’re taking away all the fun of me asking questions.”
As she walked around the end of the island coming closer, I forced myself to take a gulp of whiskey to keep from growling. The thin material of the dress did little to hide the fact she was already aroused, her luscious nipples announcing themselves. Shit. I had to try to think of something else. Anything else.
A fire burning in the fireplace.
A fire outside in the firepit.
A fire burning down several trees, claiming lives.
Fuck. As another image from two decades ago popped into my mind, I could feel beads of sweat forming along my hairline.
“Earth to Mr. Hunky Cowboy. Are you okay?”
A slight shiver slammed down my spine and I was sick of it. “Hunky cowboy, huh?”
“Very much so,” she purred then caught herself, but if she came any closer, all bets were off as to whether I could calm down my raging libido. She looked away, stopping before she got within yanking her closer distance. “Which do you prefer, smokejumping or tending to the ranch?”
“Good question. The truth is I love fighting fires. It’s in my blood, but my horses soothe the man inside.”
She nodded, looking away briefly. “I used to have a horse. My father sold it because I got a B in senior high.”
“Fuck. What a prick.”
“He gave me a solid work ethic at least.”
“What do you do?”
“Financial advising. I have several very wealthy clients.”
I don’t know why I wanted to laugh. “That doesn’t seem like you at all.”
“Well, it was either that or marry a rich guy by the time I was nineteen. You know the type, a man who was destined to run for president. Not like Lincoln. I refused and was given a list with a couple choices of careers I could choose. See, my father thought I’d meet a rich guy by giving him advice. Little did he know it turned me off on anyone with money.” Two seconds later, her eyes opened wide and she slapped her hand over her mouth, laughing so hard wine sloshed over the edge of the glass, trickling down her fingers.
There was no hesitation this time. The big he-man she’d accused me of being reared his ugly head. I took a single step closer and took the glass from her hand, immediately bringing her fingers to my mouth. As I dragged my tongue down her index finger, her breathing became ragged.
Several growls erupted from my throat as I moved from one finger to the other, but I couldn’t seem to help myself around her. She brought out the beast in me. When she pursed her lips, my eyes were drawn to them and there was nothing I could do to stop what happened next.
I barely managed to put her glass down on the counter before wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, yanking her against me and onto her toes. I gave her no time to think or breathe, capturing her mouth and immediately slipping my tongue past her voluptuous lips. God, the woman tasted like peaches and cream. All I could think about was tasting her more.
Licking every inch of her body.
Fucking that sweet mouth first before driving my cock into her tight pussy.
I was lost in a haze of lust, dominating her tongue as her long fingers clasped around my shirt. The sensations of having her so close was about to do me in. I was ready to sweep my arm across the counter, taking her like a wild animal. Her perfume had already stained my skin. Now I wanted to stain hers with my cum.
Shit. What was I doing? This was supposed to be a nice dinner.
We broke the kiss mutually, but I couldn’t seem to let go of her. Our breathing was the same, scattered, the sound full of desire.
Wren closed her eyes, backing away and licking her lips. Then she turned her head toward the refrigerator. “What are we having with the juicy, blood-rare steaks?”
Damn if the way she elongated the syllables didn’t keep me turned on. “Whatever you want, darlin.’” I watched as she found items to make a salad, even checking the pantry and finding potatoes for baking. Seeing her so comfortable in my kitchen was as strange as the way we’d gotten together.
Hold on. We weren’t together. I’d need to remind myself of that. I came with too much baggage. And I was too damn old for her, set in my ways. We were like oil and water. Maybe if I kept reminding myself of that I’d finally believe it.
“What would you do for a living if you had the chance?”
She seemed surprised I’d asked her that question. “I don’t know. Write a book, which is something I’ve tried to do several times. But what I really want to do is build a shelter for homeless animals. You know the kind. A beautiful sanctuary in the wilderness where they’d have lots of room to roam and play. Mountains. Lakes. Streams. They’d have snow and flowers, grass and hay. And they’d have shelter complete with comfy beds and even television. I love dogs, but all animals really. But it would have to be at least five hundred acres and the cost of building the facility, which would also need to have a veterinary clinic of course and a main house for the caretaker, although I’d want to live there. And maybe it could also be a working ranch to make money, not just need donations for food. And toys. Oh, God. They’d be lot of toys for them to play with all the time, not just every once in a while. And a huge pool. Yes, there would need to be at least one pool. Come to think of it, maybe two.”
