Page 79 of A Rancher's Heart
A sweet, gentle caress, a kind of amen and hallelujah all in one. Enough that the flutter in her heart kicked up a notch as she pressed forward the slightest bit. She wasn’t going to push, but as the taste of him slipped through her system, she wasn’t ready to stop.
His fingers drove around the back of her neck and into her hair, tightening as he took the kiss deeper. Harder. Using his lips and tongue to seduce her senses, and that fluttering heart rate—a flutter no more. It raced like a driving piston on an old-fashioned steam train, blood pounding through her system with the only connection between them two hands, and two lips.
Caleb closed his fingers, tugging her hair as he pivoted to his knees and between her legs. Pushing her body to vertical so their chests connected, her breasts brushing the rock-hard plane of his body.
She’d dreamed about repeating this moment, this kiss—but she’d been wrong. Completely wrong, because it wasn’t enough to make everything in her turn on, she was in overdrive. Aching and needy, her skin craving his touch.
He kept kissing her, and a low moan of pleasure escaped as a second hand slid around her torso and under her shirt. His big palm pressed her bare back and urged her body tighter against his.
She was on the very edge of the couch cushion, knees spread wide. His body rested between her thighs and the thick line of his cock made contact with her aching core.
Her very sedate and proper pyjamas were cute and festive, with little green and red bows, but they were thin, and the ridge of his jeans pushed against her hard enough she was tempted to rub. Oh God, she wanted to rub.
She still had one hand on his face, and she let the second rise so she could slide her hands over his shoulders, tracing the firm muscles there. Smoothing her hands back and forth as she rocked.
Or attempted to rock. He didn’t let her move. He kept them zipped up tight together, which was good, but not good enough. She wanted to pick this up a few rooms away.
In his bed,herbed—she didn’t care which, but when his fingers tightened that last bit and tugged their lips free from each other, they were breathing as if they’d finished a marathon. Foreheads touching as he stared at her face.
“Point proven,” he said softly.
Her head was spinning hard enough she wasn’t sure what he was talking about? “Caleb?”
“I know you want me. I want you too.” He stole his hand out from under her shirt, and she damn near whimpered in disappointment.
He made a soft shushing noise. “We can’t. You know this.”
She nodded. “The girls.”
This time it was Caleb who cupped her cheek. He stroked a finger over her lips.
“I can’t hurt them,” Caleb breathed. “Been too beat up by grownups, and it’s not fair. I can’t, even though, God, I want you. It’s too soon. We can’t make them hope—”
They couldn’t when there was nothing official between them but this wicked heat and longing. Physical desire wasn’t enough to hurt the two little people she’d come to care about so much.
It still burned. “I know.”
She cupped her hand over his, holding his palm against her cheek. “You’re a good man, Caleb Stone. You deserve to be happy too. Just in case no one’s ever told you that.”
The very corners of his lips curled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.”
They stared at each other, sharing air, and even though she cravedmore…it was enough. They were two adults making an adult decision to do the right thing.
They finished decorating the tree, the Christmas carols playing in the background shockingly joyous considering the rock in her belly.
Sometimes doing the right thing sucked.
