Page 58 of The Promise of Jenny Jones
He grinned. “Must have been a brave man.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re an intimidating woman.” His gaze traveled lazily over her face and throat. “I imagine most men would back away from a challenge like you.”
“Huh!” Instead of patting her hair as she had a sudden idiotic desire to do, she blew a smoke ring toward the shadows in the corner. “Most men don’t even see me. Which suits me just fine.”
“If they don’t see you, it’s because you don’t want them to. That’s why you hide yourself under that shapeless poncho and wear an old hat pulled down to your ears.” He released a stream of smoke and watched it drift into the darkness. “If you’d grow out your hair and wear a pretty dress, you’d have men lined up to get at you, darlin’.”
Jenny wet her lips and swallowed. “Like that’s what I want.” When she realized this conversation was making her hands tremble, she stubbed out her cigar in disgust and made a face. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Instead, you wear that chip on your shoulder and dare anyone to pay you a compliment. You talk and act like one of the boys, so you don’t have to deal with being one of the girls.”
“Just shut the hell up.”
“If I were to kiss you…” He paused, dropping a lazy lingering glance to her mouth. “Do you know how I’d do it?”
Her heart lurched and knocked against her rib cage. She gripped the edge of the table and squeezed her eyes into a warning squint. “I’m telling you for the last time…shut up.”
He kept his gaze on her mouth, studying her through eyes that seemed to smolder in the depths. “I’d start out slow. Real slow, so’s not to spook you. I’d put my hands on your waist, low, almost on your hips. Then I’d draw you up against me. Let you feel what I was thinking.” A smile touched his lips.
She understood the reference. Jenny tried to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert bone. Eyes locked to his, unable to move a muscle, she held her breath and waited, wanting him to stop but helplessly wanting to hear more.
“I’d rub against you, slow like, getting the feel of you, letting you get the feel of me.” His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched hard before he made it relax. “Then, I’d move my hands up your waist, under that poncho, right up your rib cage until I could feel the soft heat of your breasts resting on the tops of my hands.”
“Shut up,” Jenny whispered, staring at his mouth.
He flipped his cigar out the door of the shack and dropped his hands to his thighs. “I’d lean over you and put my mouth down next to yours, but I wouldn’t kiss you yet.” They stared at each other in the lamplight falling over the table. “I’d breathe you first. I’d sip your breath and hold it inside. Then I’d touch my tongue to your bottom lip.”
The air ran out of Jenny and her shoulders collapsed. Her arm slid off the table, and her cigar dropped out of boneless fingers. “Oh my God,” she murmured. Her heart slammed against her ribs and she heard her pulse thundering in her ears. The night gathered around her, dry and hot, and she felt as if she were strangling.
His gaze fastened on her mouth. “I’d run my tongue around those lips, tracing the shape and size. And then…” He rose to his feet, his face moving out of the light and into shadow. “Stand up, Jenny.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, staring at him. Her knees had turned to soup. This time he hadn’t even touched her. This time he’d melted her bones with words. Helpless to resist whatever would happen next, she gazed up at him with fear and confusion widening her eyes.
Ty took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Instantly, she felt the heat of his body and her own quickened response. Eyes fastened on his firm, hard mouth, she licked her lips nervously and tried to speak. “Don’t.” The word emerged as a croak, totally lacking conviction.
She blinked and swallowed hard. She saw the smoldering desire in his narrowed gaze, and she thought he would kiss her. Thought she would surely die if he didn’t. Instead, he raised a hand and drew his fingertips along her jaw, then slowly down her throat.
Jenny gasped. Pinpoints of fire sparked on her skin, lanced deep into her body. A tremor began in her toes and swept upward, shaking her as if she had the ague. Nothing like this had ever happened before.
She could easily have repulsed crude talk or a rough direct grab. God knew she’d done so plenty of times in the past. But she had no experience with and no defense against gentleness and seductive words.
Holding her hand, not speaking, Ty led her outside into moon-washed shadows. Helplessly, Jenny followed on trembling legs, not resisting when he leaned her against the wall of the shack. Unable to utter a word, she gazed up at him with large round eyes, waiting for whatever would happen next.
He placed a hand on the wall on either side of her face, then slowly, he leaned in to her, enveloping her within his heat and scent. The solid weight of his hips meeting hers made her suck in a sharp deep breath, and she closed her eyes on a low groan. He moved against her deliberately, pressing her against the wall, letting her feel the full power of his arousal.
Dropping his head, he murmured next to her ear, his voice thick and husky. “I wanted you the first time I saw you.” His breath was warm and heavy, the pressure of his body hot against her. “I saw you go after Luis and I thought, there is a magnificent woman, a woman worth taming.”
She wanted to object, wanted to laugh and tell him that no man would ever tame her. But she couldn’t speak. Her heart slammed in her chest. Her skin was on fire. Hot weakness pervaded her body, and she felt a warm dampness spreading between her legs.
A sound almost like a sob caught in her throat. And she felt her hips moving against his as if imbued with a will of their own. His lips grazed her forehead, searing her nerve endings, and still the words murmured against her skin, but she scarcely heard.
Touch overwhelmed other sensations. She was blind to the white moon suspended in warm darkness, deaf to the hoarse whisper against her temple. Dimly she sensed the scent of him, hot and male, but it was touch that kindled a blaze in the pit of her stomach. His lips whispering against her temple, the pressure of his hips pressing her against the wall, the power of an arousal so hard that she felt the outline on her own flesh.
“Please,” she whispered, lifting parted lips. His words, his touch created a wild need inside her, stripped her emotions raw, and crushed any thought of resistance. Unable to live another minute without his mouth on hers, she grabbed his shirt and pulled his upper body toward her, then circled his neck with her arms.
Instantly, his hands dropped to her waist and he shoved her roughly against the wall. When she gasped in surprise and pleasure, he ran his hard callused hands up her rib cage, holding her against the wall with his hips.
