Page 33 of Taken With You
“I disagree.” A tremor of fear chased her boldness. “I’m wondering if you’d like to…expand our partnership.”
The room fell silent, but she sensed a rising static as the air thickened, making it hard to inhale.
“For clarity,” he said, taking a step in her direction, “we’re talking about a more intimate connection.”
“Yes.”
A whiff of his spicy aftershave drifted between them, and she couldn’t wait to press against his cheek and breathe it in deep, couldn’t wait for their skin to be sliding against each other within the tangle of his sheets.
“That decision is yours alone.” He stopped an arm’s length away. “I can’t make it for you.”
She whispered, “Do you think it’s a terrible idea?”
“Rationally? Yes.”
The word struck her hard. “So, if we were wise, we would go to our separate bedrooms.”
He took a step closer, light falling across his strained face. “Better judgment would suggest so.”
“And yet,” she said, aching to touch him, “here I am, begging for you to seduce me.”
He lifted a hand, then let it drift down. “You know I want you, Amanda Karlson.”
Her inner muscles throbbed.
“But I can’t touch you until I hear your full-throated consent. Our partnership is important to me. So are you.”
She stumbled a little, like she’d broken a heel, but then she straightened herself up, whispering, “Yes.”
He moved fast. His mouth met hers hard. She tasted the malty hops of the beer he’d sipped and the chill of the brew as she bent back against the driving force of that kiss. For one bright, shimmering moment, she could think of nothing but the texture of his lips, smell nothing but the scent of his aftershave, and revel in nothing other than the swell of excitement. He stopped her from bending back any farther with a hard, flat hand pressed against her spine, holding her firm.
Her body purred as that strong, hot hand slid down, down, following the furrow of her spine to the hollow at the base of her back. That hand kept moving, nudging under the vertex of the vee that formed the dip of her dress and down still farther over her bare skin. His fingers tripped over the narrow strap of her thong and kept going. Leaning into her, he curled his palm around the swell of her ass and gently lifted, squeezing.
“You have the tightest ass.” He broke from the kiss, his forehead pressed against hers. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on you.”
“First, this.” She tugged on his tie, picking at the knot with fumbling fingers until she could pull the short end free. A lock of his dark hair fell over his brow, distracting her, as did the movement of his Adam’s apple in his strong, thick throat. She wanted to be done with this foreplay already. She didn’t want to wait anymore. Why couldn’t clothes just magically dissolve?
He lifted his half-lidded eyes with a knowing, cocky, I’m-going-to-do-you-hard smile. While she tugged and struggled with his tie, he reached behind her head with his free hand and pulled the pins out of her hair. One by one. Letting them drop weightlessly upon her shoulders before sliding off, clinking lightly as they hit the floor. Her hair swished out of the twist, the ends brushing below her shoulders. With a shaky grip, she pulled the unknotted tie through the collar of his shirt just as he buried his fingers in the tangle.
He nipped her earlobe, whispering, “Don’t ever wear your hair up again.”
“Only if you make a promise.” She pulled away to dangle the tie between them. “Promise to use this later.”
His teeth flashed in the moonlight, and she knew for sure that this wouldn’t be a one-off. Not a quick let’s-do-it-hard-and-fast-and-then-call-ourselves-just-business-partners-again. She tossed the tie into the darkness, glad she’d planted the seed in his mind. She couldn’t wait to explore his body in all kinds of delicious ways. Even if this fragile new connection between them blew up later in some spectacular way. The time for reconsideration had passed. She didn’t feel a bit abashed. They wouldn’t wake up awkward tomorrow, and if she did, Garrick would kiss away any rogue, throwback uncertainty. There were two consenting adults in the room, right here. And there was enough electricity between them to light up the valley.
Honestly, she should make hasty, badly considered decisions more often. All sorts of wonderful things happened when she did.
The hand buried in her hair slid down the nape of her neck. With one swift twist, he set free the hook-and-eye fastener of the halter, and the twin ties of blue jersey shimmered to her waist. Beneath, she’d worn the only kind of bra that worked with the dress: a black, backless, adhesive thing with a center clasp that pinched her breasts to a pretty cleavage.
“Shall I?” she teased, sliding her hands up to peel off the cups.
“No.” His voice sounded strangled. “That’s sexy as hell. Leave it on…for now.”
He ran his other hand down her back to grasp the other side of her ass. His movement pushed her dress, gathered at her hips, right off her body. The fabric brushed down to a silky pool around her feet. He hefted her up and out of it with a hungry growl and then set her back down on her heels.
“Hell, Amanda.” He took in her nudity, but for the bra, a thong, and a pair of strappy sandals. His perusal sent all kinds of tremors through her, made her rub her thighs together to ease the growing ache.
“Hiding all this,” he said, “and you call yourself a simple farm girl.”
