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“No!” she exclaimed hastily. “I just forgot you said that.”
Her face was red.
She looked flustered.
But excited.
There was no denying the crackling chemistry.
Tightening his grip around her hand, he heard a soft gasp. Thinking he’d soon be hearing more gasps and moans and whimpers of pleasure, he quickened his step and continued to the house. But when they approached the steps to the porch, Sherlock, barking up a storm, came running up from the barn.
“Someone doesn’t want to be left behind,” she remarked as the terrier reached them.
“Someone has terrible timin,” Noah grunted, opening the front door. But determined not to let the moment escape, the second they stepped inside he pulled her into his arms. “I was thinkin’ about you all night,” he growled, gazing down at her.
“Me too—thinking about you, I mean.”
Her tremulous admission fueled his erotic fever. Swiftly sweeping her up, he carried her down the hall to his bedroom. It was a mess, but paying it no heed, he tossed her on the bed, quickly pulled off his boots and belt, and laid on top of her.
“Do you do this often?” she whispered.
“You mean, bring naughty, sexy girls into my bedroom in the middle of the day?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Nope, in fact, you’re the first, but I plan to make it a habit—with you!’
Before she could respond, he kissed her, slowly lingering his mouth on hers for endless minutes, then nuzzled her neck and savored her sighs.
“I love how you do that,” she whimpered. “You’re making my toes curl.”
“How about this?” he murmured, expertly lifting her sweater up and over her head as he kissed his way down to her breasts.
“Yes, yes…”
Rolling her onto her side, he deftly unsnapped her bra, tossed it down the bed, then pushed her back, grabbed her breasts and hungrily sucked in her nipples.
“And that?” he inquired, finally lifting his eyes.
“I never want you to stop…”
“I have to, but only because it’s time to take off the rest of your clothes—and mine.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Slipping from the bed, Noah made quick work of pulling off Ellie’s boots, then sliding down her black jeans and lace panties.
She could scarcely believe it.
Her wild, exciting fantasy had become reality.
She was used to smooth-talking guys who wore tailored jackets, crisp shirts and silk ties. Now she was watching a handsome, muscled cowboy hastily strip off his jeans and T-shirt. It was the stuff of romance novels, and she felt an erotic thrill ripple through her body. When he climbed back on the bed, naked and looking like some kind of Western God, she closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for what might come next.
“Damn, girl, you’re gorgeous,” he crooned, fondling her breasts, then devoured her nipples, urgently drawing them hungrily into his mouth. As she groaned her gratitude, he sucked with greater gusto—and it hurt, but it was a delicious pain—a pain she never wanted to stop. When he finally lifted his head and kissed his way across her chest and up to her neck, her breasts were throbbing.
“So naughty,” he grunted, abruptly thrusting his hand between her legs and shoving a finger into her channel.
“Why?” she squeaked, barely able to find her voice.
