Page 10 of Dirty-Talking Cowboy
Three seconds passed.
“Yeah,” he murmured, satisfaction dark in his voice. “That’s what I thought.”
Then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was exactly as I’d imagined. And, yes, I had imagined kissing this man, this cowboy. Yesterday, this morning. Heck, half of the afternoon.
There was heat and demand and Rhett’s hand fisting in my hair, tilting my head back so he could kiss me deeper, harder, taking my mouth like he had every right to it.
I made a sound—something between a gasp and a moan—and his other arm tightened around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel every hard plane of his body against my softness, could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against my stomach, and it should have scared me but instead it made me feel powerful. Wanted. Like I’d done this to him.
His tongue swept along my bottom lip, demanding entry, and I opened for him without thinking. The kiss went deeper, filthier, and I was drowning in him. In the taste of coffee and something uniquely him, in the scratch of his stubble against myskin, in the way his hand in my hair made my panties flood with my arousal.
I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I settled for gripping his jacket, holding on like he was the only solid thing in a spinning world. He made a low sound of approval and kissed me harder, like my uncertainty was something he found appealing, something he wanted to corrupt.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. His hand was still in my hair, and he was looking at me like he wanted to devour me whole.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You kiss like a virgin, Maggie.”
I flushed, embarrassment flooding through me. Did he know? Did I need to tell him? “I don’t—I haven’t—”
“Hey.” His hand gentled in my hair, thumb stroking behind my ear. “That wasn’t a complaint. That was me trying not to lose my damn mind because you’re so responsive it’s making me hard as hell.”
Oh God. I could feel myself turning even redder, but I couldn’t look away from him.
“You’ve never done this before,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. “Have you?”
I shook my head mutely.
Something fierce and possessive flashed across his face. “Good.”
“Good?” My voice came out squeaky.
“Yeah. Good.” He kissed me again, softer this time but no less thorough. “Means I get to be the one who shows you. Teaches you. Makes you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
“That’s—you can’t just—” But my protest died when his mouth moved to my jaw, trailing hot kisses down to the sensitive spot below my ear.
“Can’t what?” he murmured against my skin. “Can’t kiss you? Can’t touch you? Can’t tell you exactly what I want to do to you?”
“All of that,” I managed, but it came out more like a whimper.
He laughed, low and dark. “Too late. Already doing it.”
His mouth found mine again, and this time I was ready for it. Kissed him back with everything I had, inexperienced and clumsy but enthusiastic, and he groaned like I’d done something incredible instead of just trying not to embarrass myself.
When we finally broke apart, I was trembling, my lips swollen, my body aching with want I didn’t fully understand but knew instinctively that he could satisfy.
“We should finish the fence,” I said, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Yeah. We should. But not today.” But he didn’t let go of me, and his eyes were still dark with heat. “Tomorrow morning. Same time. We’ll cover more of the property.”
“Okay.”
“And Maggie?” He waited until I met his eyes. “That kiss? That’s just the beginning. I’m going to have you, sweetheart. All of you. It’s only a matter of time.”
It should have sounded arrogant. Should have made me mad. Instead, all I could think was, promises, promises.
And God help me, I wanted him to keep every single one.
