Page 43 of A Rancher's Bride
This wasn’t a normal night. On a normal evening, she wasn’t waiting for Luke to join her in bed.
His footsteps were almost soundless as he paced across the carpeted floor toward her, and when he sat, the mattress was big and firm enough to barely shift position.
He lay back, head on his pillow, adjusted the quilt, and then lay motionless.
Fairly anticlimactic after all of her hopeful expectations.
Only the longer she lay there trying to relax, and the longerhelay there pretending to sleep—because there was no way anyone could possibly stay that motionless unless it was deliberate or they’d been hit on the head—the more amused she got.
She opened her eyes.
Enough light stole in the open curtain to see he was staring at the ceiling.
“I’m tempted to shout ‘Boo,’” she confessed softly, “but you might hurt something breaking out of that rigid position you’ve got yourself encased in.”
His lips twitched, and he rolled, brown eyes shifting as his gaze drifted over her face. “Very considerate you restrained yourself then.”
They stared at each other until Kelli noticed that their breathing had become synchronized. The repetitions were slow and even, strangely enough, considering how frantically her heart pounded.
She reached across the distance between them, caressing her fingers over his cheek. The rough stubble on his chin scratched against her palm briefly before she slid her fingers into the curls at the back of his neck.
His face tightened. Not in anger, but as if he were hurting. She didn’t bother to ask what was wrong because it was pretty obvious what was going on. The same pleasure and pain rippled through her system.
If she were smarter, she would know the perfect words to say.
If she were braver, she wouldn’t bother with words at all. She’d simply roll on top of him and let the next thing happen.
Luke caught her wrist in his fingers, and she thought everything was going to end right then. Instead, he tugged her hand closer. Opening her fingers and pressing a kiss to her palm.
Her heart shot to an even higher cadence as he twisted her hand to reach the inside of her wrist. Pressing his lips there as well. No way could she hide how fast her pulse was racing now. Not as he put his tongue to her skin and slowly worked his way up the inside of her forearm to her elbow. Lips and teeth stealing along as if he was afraid she would bolt.
Run away?No. Fall apart, possibly, completely unmade by the swirling need rushing through her.
Luke tugged at the sheets, tossing them back as he slid closer, and the next moment he was braced over her, lips teasing her shoulder and upward, brushing the ticklish spot at the base of her neck.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
There was too much to think about. Too much to experience. She chose to focus on the way his mouth sent shockwaves through her system, kisses inching up her neck to below her ear.
His body covered hers, his torso naked as she discovered when her hands lifted of their own accord. Hot skin stretched over taut muscles, and she let herself explore the way she’d longed to do for so damn long.
She dragged her fingertips up his back, her nails barely long enough to scratch his skin, but it was oh-so-satisfying when a tortured groan escaped his lips, his mouth jerking away from where he’d been teasing her earlobe.
Her legs were trapped between his, and he held his groin above her. Considering her track record from earlier in the day, she wasn’t about to move her knees anywhere too close.
And then she didn’t have to make any decisions because he’d made them for her. Adjusting his weight slightly, dropping a knee between her thighs and pushing them apart so he could settle between them.
Luke pulled back far enough to stare into her face as he lowered his body against hers.
“Kelli?” he asked.
She lifted her hands, wrapped them around the back of his head and brought their mouths together. Kissing him fiercely, taking the heat that he returned.
She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him with a groan as he flexed against her core. The thick length of his erection lay against her, and her head was spinning already just from theideaof this contact.
She didn’t know if she should be cursing or thankful that she’d wore pyjamas to bed. He wore something as well, which meant there were two layers between them at the bottom, just her tank top between their torsos.
Nothing between their lips. Nothing between their tongues except a wild dance of sexual need and urgency.
