Page 50 of A Rancher's Bride
“I know,” he promised, but he didn’t let go. Just twisted her in his arms and held on tight, an arm hooked around her belly to keep her in contact. He put a hand in the air and waved at Diane. “Here. Throw here.”
Diane stood in the shallow end, gauging the distance between her and the group of a dozen kids closing in fast.
“Go long,” she shouted before smacking the beach ball with a fist.
Kelli shot her arms into the air as Luke lifted her, giving her the extra height she needed to take control of the wayward toy.
She crowed as she caught it, flashing him a delighted smile before panic set in. “Oops. They’re after us now.”
The next fifteen minutes were a rush of energy and chaos. Children shouted, water splashed, laughter rang. The teams were mostly fluid, with anyone holding the ball fair game.
The only thing consistent was Luke stayed within touching distance because even a step farther from Kelli would have been too far.
Lifting her, hands on waist or hips. Lowering her against his body and letting her soft skin brush his. Twisting past her and secretly copping a feel—he made sure not to do that one too often because it was dangerous. He didn’t need to get more turned on than he already was.
By the time the moms who had been chatting clapped their hands and informed the kids it was time to get ready for supper, Luke was hard as a spike and ready to do something about it.
Kelli was momentarily surrounded by a pack of preteen girls who all had to get in a hug before they climbed out of the water and left with their moms.
Jack and Diane had retreated to the hot tub. Kelli turned, lowering her chin slightly as heat flashed in her eyes. “I should make you walk out of the pool right now as punishment for getting me all hot and bothered.”
He closed the distance between them again, holding her against his body. “You want me to walk with this handicap?”
Sneaky woman. She slid her hand around his neck, shaking her head slightly. “Whose fault is it you’re suffering? I thought we did something aboutthatbefore we came downstairs.”
Luke glanced around, but everyone else had abandoned the pool and the growing chill. Jack and Diane remained in the hot pool, but they were busy kissing. He caught hold of Kelli’s free hand and slid it down his body so her palm pressed his hard length. “I told you I’m better than any inflatable boyfriend.”
She snickered. “Is this like one of those trick birthday candles that you can never blow out? Get your never-ending, self-reinflating erection here. No matter how many times you deal with it, there’s always a new one right behind.”
The feel of her hand on him was driving him wild, but they weren’t doing this again. Not when there were so many other better options.
“We need to go,” he told her.
Even to him, his voice sounded scary. Borderline dangerous and definitely needy.
She pushed back, and he let her go, following slowly. Marching up the stairs at the end of the pool and ignoring his erection that was fully visible and tenting his shorts.
He pulled on his robe, watching Kelli do the same. He interrupted when she would’ve hauled the belt around her, crossing the fabric over her body himself. Brushing his fingers over the swells of her breasts as he pretended to adjust the fuzzy fabric.
He tightened the ties of her belt as he stared into her face. Her cheeks were flushed as if she’d spent hours in the hot tub, and when she licked her lips, he was done.
If they made it back to their bedroom, it was going to be a fucking miracle.
12
She was lightheaded as Luke caught her fingers in his and led her off the pool deck. In the distance bells were ringing, the delicate rumble of elevators and behind-the-scenes noises, all cool and peaceful.
Inside, she was fire and ice.
The blood rushing past her eardrums was the loudest sound. They stood side-by-side in front of the elevator, the lit-up numbers slowly descending to where they waited on the ground floor. Luke clutched her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles again and again.
She was afraid to look at him. Afraid to meet his gaze in the mirror in case it was the final straw that broke her control.
All the touching had built the pressure inside until, forget the talk about inflatable boyfriends,shewas a balloon puffed up to half a notch before bursting. All it would take was one too-blunt suggestion and she would jump him. Right here, right now.
She jammed her free hand into the pocket of the robe, drawing in a gasp as her fingers closed around a square that crinkled under her touch.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
