Page 92 of The Holiday Heartbreaker

“I can’t wait,” he said.

“You can’t wait?”

It was cold outside, but she was hot because of him.

“Come on, get in the truck.”

“The truck?”

“Yes,” he said.

They got in and started the engine, and he didn’t drive them back toward the ranch, rather he took a dirt road right next to the tavern, and drove up just a little ways, before going into the thick of the trees.

He reached into the back of the truck and pulled out a bunch of blankets. “Come on.”

“What?”

She got out of the truck, and went around to the back. He dropped the tailgate down, and piled the blankets back in it.

“It is freezing,” she said.

“That’s with the blankets are for.”

“Please tell me they’re clean blankets,” she said.

“Scout’s honor. I have not touched anyone else since you arrived at this ranch.”

“You’ve brought women here, though,” she said.

“I don’t remember,” he said. “I mean, I have. But I don’t remember it. I can’t think of anything right now. Anything but you.”

And then she decided to go ahead and ignore the truth of any of it. Maybe he meant that, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he said that to every woman he put in the back of his pickup truck, but she wanted to be here. Wanted to be here with him.

It was dark. And she had kind of wanted to see him. But this wasn’t going to be just one time. Two weeks. They had two weeks.

She sat on the blankets, and he knelt next to her, kissing her, reaching around and undoing the zipper on her dress. It fell away from her body, the night air biting into her skin. It was cold enough for snow. Suddenly, she didn’t really care. Logic wasn’t leading this train. Not remotely.

He leaned in and kissed her neck. And she shivered. “I want you so much,” he whispered.

And she was hot then. She had never done this. Sex in the back of the truck. Sex in any vehicle. She had never been wild for anyone before. And Carter had certainly never been wild for her. Not like this. She undid the top button on his shirt. Then the next one. And the next one. Her only complaint about the choice of venue was that she couldn’t see him all that well.

You will. When you do it again.

That gave her the encouragement to take it slow. To take her time. She moved her fingertips over his chest, down his stomach, and she felt him sucking a sharp breath when she made it to the waistband of his jeans.

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, and while he went to work on his jeans and boots, she got rid of her shoes, her underwear. She shivered again, and he pulled her up against the whole length of his body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, as he brought her over the top of him, and lay back flat on the blankets. She let her head fall back, her hair touching the middle of her back, his hands moving up and down her spine, his thumbs brushing her hipbones, teasing just around the edges of where she ached for him the most.

He moved his hands up to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples. It felt so good. He felt so good. She could hardly stand it.

She had often thought that she might die a death by a thousand cuts. Little indignities and humilities that she had suffered all throughout her life. But it had never once occurred to her that she might die of pleasure.

Brody McCloud made a case for that.

She lowered her head and kissed him, kissed his chest, kissed down his stomach. She made it down to the thick length of his arousal and desire arced through her. She had never done this before.

The reality was, her sex life with Carter just hadn’t been very adventurous. They’d known what they’d known, and that was about it. And...

She had never felt overly invested in experimenting with him.

---