Chapter 11
KENZIE brOKE THE kiss so she could simply look at the man beneath her.
She touched his face, tracing a fingertip over his lips, up one cheekbone and then down.
The hair along his stubbled jawline had grown out enough that it was on the verge of losing the prickly feel and becoming soft.
She loved the way his hair was both light and dark.
It was reflective of the man himself—the part people saw and the shadows he carried inside.
She understood him. Probably more than he realized and definitely far better than he wanted her to.
He nipped the pad of her finger as she traced it over his lips again.
She instinctively pulled away and then pressed two fingers to his lips.
When he kissed the sting, part of her relaxed.
This was Ty. Simply Ty. He wasn’t a stranger but a familiar lover.
A man her heart recognized, craved, dreamed of more often than not.
Looking at him now, it was as if she was seeing him for the first time all over again—the rush of attraction, the need to glimpse his smile, the desire to hear his laughter and, even more, to be responsible for it.
Above all, though, was the yearning to touch him.
So she did.
Hands trembling so slightly she didn’t think he’d notice, she reached out and undid the first Velcro strap on his neck brace.
Ty jerked away, eyes wide. “I can’t take the brace off.”
“Shh.” The rip of the next strap seemed louder than the first.
“Seriously.” His hand rested atop her wrist to stop her from removing the next strap. “Please, Kenzie. I can’t do this.”
She paused, taking in the undisguised fear on his face. “Can’t or won’t?”
He slid his hand to encompass hers and squeezed. “I don’t...”
Cupping his face with her free hand, she pulled gently against his grip, giving him every opportunity to really resist, to stop her, to hold on to his fear and put it in front of his desire.
His gaze locked on hers and, eyes wide, he let his hand fall away.
She knew it was the ultimate gesture of trust. He’d handed over the keys to his fear, stepped aside and allowed her to rule the moment. No way would she abuse that. Moving with ultimate care, she pulled the third and fourth straps. Then she lifted the top of the brace away.
Fine tremors ran through Ty, transmitting his concern to her through every point where they touched.
Movements precise, care for the man tempering her hunger for him, Kenzie set the brace on the floor.
“I can’t reach it,” he said, voice strained to the point of breaking.
“You won’t need it,” she countered quietly.
“But what if I—”
“Enjoy yourself,” she finished for him.
His brows drew together. “Huh?”
“What if you let your inner playboy loose and take a chance?”
He shook his head and froze.
Her heart stuttered. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No,” he answered slowly. “But what if I do?”
She closed the distance between them, feathering her lips over his in tiny kisses. “What if you don’t?”
“It could happen, Kenzie. If I’m not seriously careful—”
“We’ll take it slow.” She pulled back a fraction. “Isn’t the potential pleasure worth fighting through the fear? If we have to stop, we will. I swear to you I’ll stop before I let anything hurt you, Tyson.”
With slow deliberation, he threaded his fingers through her hair. “This is like losing my virginity all over again.”
She grinned. “Why do I love the idea that I’m the one divesting you of your pseudo-innocence?”
“Because you have a very wicked side, Miss Malone.” His smile grew and reflected in his eyes. “Coolest part? I’ve always wanted my very own Mrs. Robinson, and now I’ve got her.”
Kenzie’s laugh bubbled out, sultry and full of every unspoken promise she longed to make, from the generally innocent to the decidedly not.
Mrs. Robinson indeed.
Closing the distance again, she took the kiss deeper, angling her mouth over his so all he had to do was receive her.
After a tense moment of consideration, he responded in kind.
Hands searched, touched and learned; mouths tasted; tongues stroked and breaths came shorter and then shorter still.
Here, in Ty’s arms, no matter that she set the pace, she knew a sense of peace she’d been missing.
She had longed for this, for him, ever since he’d walked out her hotel room door in the early morning on the day of the accident.
There had been moments, lonely and terrifying, when she’d wanted to leave Ohio, leave Gizmo in the vet’s capable hands and go to Ty.
But she hadn’t. Hard as it had been, she’d honored his request that she see his horse well.
Now that she had Ty, though, she wasn’t about to let go. Not until someone forced her hand.
Those were thoughts for another time, though. This? This man tentatively coming to life beneath her? He was all that mattered.
His hot lips skated over hers, more demanding now than they’d been moments before. It thrilled her that he’d grown more brazen. She wanted both his capitulation and the masterful demands he typically made of her body. She wanted it all, to rule and be ruled, touch and be touched.
Her name was an invocation on his lips, a plea to her for something her conscious didn’t quite understand but that her subconscious grabbed at greedily.
Kenzie ran her hands down Ty’s sides, smiling against his mouth when he sucked in a breath. “Ticklish?”
“No,” he replied, wiggling to get his shirttail out from under him and over his head. “Not even a little.”
She dragged a blunt fingernail down his side, and he squirmed, trying to get away.
“Fine! Quit,” he said, laughing. “I am ticklish. Now stop distracting me.”
“What am I distracting you from?” she teased.
He looked up at her, face suddenly solemn. “I don’t want to miss a single moment.”
Pain blossomed in her chest, and for a second, she wondered what it was that could ache like that and yet make her crave more of the same.
Then he cupped her breasts, gently rolling her pearled nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
All thought turned to ash at the wave of desire that burned through her.
Core aching, she moved to straddle his waist, to position herself to take what she needed.
His hands stilled. “Go easy, Kenzie.”
“I promise. Just don’t stop.” She pressed her hands over his, encouraging him to manipulate the tender swells of her breasts with tiny squeezes of her fingers. “Please.”
“I’ll never deny you, baby.” His hips surged when she pressed her sex against him, his groan the only thing soft about the moment. Or him.
She arched her back, one hand holding his to her breast while the other was parked on his thigh to help give her leverage as she rode him with a slow, hip-rolling motion. Drawn into the ageless rhythm, he gripped her thigh, pushing and pulling to help set the pace.
It had been so long, too long, since she’d been here with him.
She didn’t want to let the moment go, wanted it to last forever, but her body’s needs were more immediate than her emotional ones.
What her body wanted was achievable now.
No reason to deny either of them the pleasure of connection and release.
Ignoring his wordless protest when she moved off his lap, she stood and stripped with perfunctory movements, more anxious to return to him than she was to make the action a seduction. The avaricious look on his face as his eyes roamed over her body said she achieved the latter regardless.
Kenzie crawled up Ty’s body, stopping midway to untie his pants. She worked them down his hips and over his feet, tossing them clear of the bed.
With him lying before her without a stitch of clothing, she’d never been so grateful for the fit and finish the good Lord had bestowed on this man. He was beautiful, head to toe.
She could have looked at him for ages, explored his body and learned every peak and valley. Instead, she straddled his lap again, reveling in the heat of him against her sensitive skin. “No underwear. If you’d been in a car wreck, Tyson, you’d have scandalized the nurses.”
He arched a brow at the same time he grinned, the look one of guileful amusement. “You know me, Kenzie—always ready and willing to play patient.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Every man has aspirations. That one word sums mine up quite nicely.”
Shaking her head, she leaned forward and nipped his earlobe.
“Stop talking, Tyson.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond.
With deft hands, she reached between them and positioned his arousal, then worked her way down his thick length.
He stretched her. She reveled in the near discomfort his size caused.
She hadn’t been with anyone else who’d made her feel so much, made her long to embrace her sexuality and experience everything a skilled lover could offer.
Particularly a skilled lover who knew her body so well.
In the past, he’d always seen to her needs first. Today, though, she reciprocated his every touch, returned his every encouragement tenfold through words, sounds and intimate touches.
He fought her at first, trying to make her reach the pinnacle alone.
She was having none of it. Where she went, she ensured he followed.
This was an exercise in mutual gratification.
She rode him with long, slow strokes, losing herself to the feel of him beneath her, the way his hips thrust up as she sank down, the way his deft fingers pulled her release to the surface, drawing it closer and closer with every careful manipulation.
Her chest rose and fell, faster and then faster still.
Beneath her, Ty whispered her name. He dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her down his length as she sank low. His thrusts grew deeper, harder. The sounds of their lovemaking—the touch of skin on skin, the tender words and soft encouragements—filled the small room.