Chapter 5 #2
He was utterly beautiful. Swirls of ink accented the defined muscles of his chest and arms. Before she could do more than run an admiring hand over him, Oscar brushed against her leg and began nosing at the shirt, opening his mouth. Misty grabbed it before he could snatch it up. “Oh no you don’t.”
Denver shot an exasperated glance at his dog. “We should probably relocate.”
“Definitely.” She led him into the laundry room.
He eyed the washing machine. “I mean, not what I was expecting, but the height is good.”
Misty snorted. “Not where I was going with that. Practicalities before fun. If we throw your clothes in the dryer now, the dogs can’t mess with them, and they’ll be ready later.”
“Planning to get rid of me so soon?” He shucked his pants and boxers as he spoke and her mouth went dry, even as her body flushed.
Jolene was wrong. Any sane woman would want to go very, very slow with a man like him. Preferably all afternoon and into the night.
“No. In fact, I might just hide your clothes altogether.” She tossed them into the dryer.
He smirked, the expression surprisingly boyish on his usually serious face. “I’m only good with that plan if you’re playing, too.”
The quicker she got naked, the quicker they could get to the fun part. “I mean, it’s only fair.” She slipped her fingers into the waistband of her skirt and shoved it over her hips and down.
The molten heat in his eyes as they traced over her was its own pleasure. When she reached for the hem of her tank, he stopped her.
“Let me.” He inched it up himself, trailing his work-roughened fingers up her torso, brushing the sides of her breasts, until he stripped it off, leaving her bare, but for a thong.
Misty shivered, but not from the cold.
Swearing, low and reverent, Denver boosted her up until her legs could wrap around his waist. “Which way?”
“Wait!” Leaning over, she swatted at the controls of the dryer until it turned on. “Let’s go.”
Breathless from the feel of all his skin against hers, she directed him toward her bedroom.
Somehow he navigated furniture and dogs, getting them through the house in record time.
He kicked the door shut, right in a pair of over-interested canine faces.
Their whines of affront sounded through the wood as he tumbled them both onto the bed.
Denver wasted no time in stretching over her and feasting on the hollow of her throat. Humming with pleasure at the glorious weight of him, Misty tipped her head back to give him better access.
Someone scratched at the door.
“Moxie, go lay down,” she groaned.
Moxie barked her protest.
“Sorry. She’s not used to being shut out.” There’d been nobody to shut her out for since Misty had brought her home.
Oscar barked.
“Hush it!” Denver kissed his way lower, down to the valley between her breasts. “He’s got no clue what’s going on either. Do we need to actually lock the door?”
“As long as it latched, we should be…mmm…fine.”
“Bet I can make you forget they’re out there.”
“Oh, please do.”
He closed his lips around her nipple and sucked.
Misty arched up, spearing her hands into the short, brown strands of his hair to hold him there. “Definitely more of that.”
He lavished her breasts with attention from his mouth and those wonderful hands, until she writhed beneath him, needing more. When he finally broke away to move further down her body, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, she almost sobbed in relief.
Then he paused, pressing a stubbled cheek to her belly with an expletive that was far less than reverent.
All but vibrating with need, she met his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“Condom. I don’t have one.”
Releasing a breath, she relaxed a fraction. “Nightstand. New box. Picked them up on a trip into Johnson City last week.”
Denver angled his head. “Really?”
Suddenly self conscious, Misty squirmed. “I mean, I hadn’t exactly been expecting to be using them this soon, but I didn’t know when I’d get the chance for out-of-town shopping again, and I wasn’t keen on fueling additional speculation about us in the gossip mill.”
His grin flashed again as he grabbed the box out of the drawer. “God bless a well-prepared woman.”
Protection in easy reach, he went back to driving her insane. He was as slow and thorough in bed as he was with everything else. By the time he’d wrung one toe-curling orgasm out of her and driven her up again, Misty was ready to beg.
“Please. Please.”
He took his sweet-ass time making his way back up her body, trailing soft, languid kisses on her knee, her thigh, the crest of her hip, before he reached toward the bedside table.
Foil ripped. Moments later, he settled over her, into the cradle of her hips.
He held there, arms braced on either side of her head, staring down at her for a long moment before he murmured her name and pressed into her, one slow, aching inch at a time.
He didn’t say a word, just watched her with fierce concentration.
Misty could only stare helplessly back, her throat going thick with emotion.
There was something else here—a tenderness beneath the heat that made her heart stumble in her chest. She trembled, at the cusp of something so much bigger than simply giving him her body.
Half wondering, half afraid, she reached up to cup his cheek.
He turned his head, brushing a kiss to her palm.
Then he began to move and she lost the thread of fear in the sounds and sighs of pleasure.
Cocooned in the premature gray twilight, as rain continued to drum on the tin roof, he loved her well, drawing out the climb until they both shattered.
Afterward, as their breaths slowed and sweat-slicked skin cooled, Denver held her close.
It felt right to be curled up against him, her legs tangled with his.
But still, the worry trickled in. When she’d decided to take him to bed, she’d thought it would be easy.
An inevitable conclusion to the chemistry sizzling between them. Simple and mutually pleasurable.
But she’d seen his face, felt the way he’d cherished her. She could no more hold back her own response to that than to take back the orgasms he’d given her. What was between them wasn’t simple or casual anymore. It was more than she’d expected. He was more than she’d expected.
“You’re thinking awfully hard,” he rumbled.
“My brain is trying to come back online and failing,” she lied.
She didn’t dare ask him how he felt. Not yet.
She knew him well enough now to understand that fast would never be his way.
He wouldn’t be ready to face whatever she’d seen in those unguarded moments.
Pressing him on the issue would be a good way to ensure a swift retreat.
And anyway, she wasn’t entirely ready to face the truth herself—that she was more than half in love with him already.
He’d catch up eventually. She had faith. Meanwhile, she tucked the knowledge close to her heart and rolled to straddle him, intent on distracting them both.