7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
A very’s bedroom was her sanctuary. Her home office was decorated with animals on the walls—a reminder of her optimism she might one day have children of her own. Her spare bedroom was a delicate pale blue. With a bed that saw little use. Her parents lived in town, and she had few out-of-town relatives, so no one to host.
She’d painted her bedroom a dove gray when she’d bought the place from Justin. Then hung white lace curtains and put a large, overstuffed chair by the window. On sunny days, when she wasn’t working, she’d laze in the sun like a cat and read. Oh, and nap, of course.
“I like it.” Will glanced around, likely noting the artwork.
She’d chosen local artisans as well as a few pieces by Indigenous artists that she liked.
His attention was riveted to a painting of a Canada goose. He leaned in closer. “This looks like a photograph.”
“That’s a Tessa Carlyle.” Avery grinned. “She does erotic paintings as well, but those are well out of my price range. She teaches art at the university.”
Will whistled. “She’s damn talented.”
Enough chitchat. With Rex hanging out on his bed in the spare room and down for the night, Avery was ready for action. She pointed to the washroom. “I’m going to get comfortable. There’s a washroom down the hall if you want, or you can wait—”
“Thanks, I gotta, you know…” His cheeks pinkened.
“Piss?” She supplied the word with no small amount of amusement.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She sidled over to him and pressed her body against his. “Considering all the wicked things we’re going to do tonight, I think a little vulgarity is in order. And no shyness, okay?” She fingered the neck of his jean shirt. “But you can always say no.”
His grin was whip-quick and wicked. “Oh, ma’am, I don’t intend to say no .” With a light pat to her ass, he headed out of the room.
Scrambling over to the walk-in closet, she grabbed her silk robe, then went into the bathroom. Peeing was a priority—she’d had one glass of wine at the party and, of course, the hot chocolate. Then she brushed her hair and teeth, pinched her cheeks, and winked at the reflection in the mirror. It’d been a few months since she’d had company—she intended to make the most of tonight.
Even if I only have tonight .
Returning to her bedroom, she found the bed turned down and one naked cowboy on her bed.
His farmer’s tan had mostly faded, but she could see the delineation on his arm where his T-shirt covered the upper arm and shoulder. His erection curved up toward his belly.
She licked her lips.
He indicated the box of condoms she kept in the nightstand drawer. Then his cheeks pinkened. “I, uh, might’ve gone looking. Because I didn’t bring anything,” he added quickly. “And I’m mighty glad you’re prepared. I mean, I’m clean, but—”
“And I’m on the pill, but we’re still all about being careful.” Because condoms failed, and as much as she wanted a child, she also wanted a partner to share that joy with.
Will arched an eyebrow as he palmed his cock. “Why don’t you take that beautiful pink robe off and come and join me? It’s chilly here by myself.”
She loved his cheekiness. And his boldness. And comfort in his own skin. She’d thought there might be hesitancy—after all, he’d implied there hadn’t been anyone else since his wife died—but his wicked grin drew her in. She unbelted the robe and then slowly let it slip off her shoulders. It slid off her and puddled at her feet.
He whistled. “As stunning as the painting.”
Is being compared to a duck a good thing or not?
Better yet…does it matter?
Hell no.
She eased herself into bed.
Will dragged the covers up. “As much as I want to see you, this room really is cold. I’m from the prairies, and I don’t do cold like that.”
“I’m cheap.” She shrugged. “And I just throw on a sweater. Or cuddle up. Never with a cowboy, though.”
“Well, fair enough.” With alacrity, he flipped her onto her back, then hovered over her. “You know you can change your mind as well, right?”
“Kiss me, cowboy.”
“With pleasure.”
As he lowered himself on her so she took most of his weight, he sealed their lips. Delight coursed through her as his cock pressed against her belly. His tongue did all kinds of wondrous things in her mouth, and she shifted restlessly beneath him as desire strummed in her blood.
He trailed his hand down her neck, eventually cupping her breast.
As he played with the nipple, she gasped. Heat shot to her core. She pulled back from the kiss, then nipped his chin. “Need you in me. Like, now.”
“What’s the rush?” He nibbled down her jaw, then moved to her neck where he sucked on her pulse point.
Although he had a point—they had all night—impatience overtook her. “Condom, hon. Then please make love to me.”
“Well, okay.”
Although he said the words with reluctance, his grin assured her that she hadn’t made a misstep. When he reached over to snag the condom, his chest hair brushed her sensitive nipples. She moaned.
“All right.” Amusement laced his voice. “I got the message.” He rolled off so he could don the condom, but soon he was back looming over her.
She couldn’t ever remember wanting this more. “Yes, please.” She tugged him over her, opening her legs to welcome him. Then she guided him to her.
He pulled his lower lip through his teeth. Slowly, inch by inch, he pressed in.
Having not done this for a while, she was a little tight. But her arousal beckoned him, and he slid in. When he filled her completely, she wrapped her legs around his waist. She met his gaze. “Ride ‘em, cowboy.”
The laugh that escaped him made her heart sing.
He tried to hide the smile, but it poked through.
Good.
People often took sex too seriously. This was meant to be fun. Often, the more fun she had, the more aroused she became.
He shifted within her.
She sighed.
Then he began to make love to her. Slow, gentle, tender.
“Seriously? Just fuck me already.”
“Uh, sure.” He snapped his hips.
She rose to meet him.
Thus began a mating dance that was at once as old as time but also new to her as she’d never been with this man before. He knew just when to pick things up, when to slow things down, when to be brutal, and when to be gentle. In other words, he edged her mercilessly.
“I want to come,” she whined.
“I’m not stopping you.” Another heart-stopping grin.
She huffed.
He slid his hand between them and flicked her clit.
As she fought for friction, he rubbed her a couple more times. Then it was all over. She tumbled over the cliff and into the abyss of pleasure.
He pressed home twice more, than held himself still.
Their gazes locked.
She’d just lost her heart to this man.
This man who’d be gone come morning.