Chapter 3 #2
He held out his arms to help her off the fence.
Mel set her hands on his shoulders, and Shawn’s hands settled on her waist. The warmth of his palms reassured her that she wasn’t going to die today, because he saved her.
She clamped her legs together to avoid pouring fuel on the fire.
He tugged her into his body, and his torso hard against her breasts.
He didn’t release his hold, and his fingers twitched.
Deep blue eyes fixed on her lips, inches from his.
His breath whispered on her face, the tang of sour candies sweet on the air.
She dared slide her hands down his chest.
Shawn’s gaze met hers. “Mel…” he murmured. He was giving her a chance to refuse. She wouldn’t. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to kiss him.
Mel closed the distance, pressing her lips to his.
Shawn kissed her back with an unexpected fierceness.
He held the back of her neck, controlling the kiss, tongue demanding to meet hers.
His other arm wrapped around her back and molded her body to his.
The virtuous knight had vanished, much to her delight.
She wasn’t feeling very virtuous right now, either.
She needed more from him. Kissing wouldn’t be enough.
Mel ran her hands up into his hair, pulling him closer.
Shawn groaned and gentled the kiss, long enough for Mel to wonder if that was it— itch scratched.
But then he scooped her up by the thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist. He leaned them against the fence and plundered her mouth with renewed fervor. So he wanted more, too. Good.
Despite the layers of clothing between them, she could feel his growing arousal. If she tilted her hips up, she could grind against him and—
A loud whicker inches from their ears startled them both out of the moment. The chestnut hung his head and stared at them with pleading eyes.
Mel winced. Had she been humping Shawn in the middle of an open field, where anyone could see? If they hadn’t seen through her pretense of leaving earlier, they would now. Her cheeks flamed. Shawn sighed and released Mel, setting her back down on the ground.
Eight horses now hovered, all looking expectantly at them, ears pricked. Mel laughed. “I get it, I get it!” She stepped away from Shawn and picked up the bag of carrots. She saw him adjusting the front of his pants and let herself grin wickedly. He returned the expression, smug delight in his eyes.
They dispensed the rest of the carrots as fairly as possible. Bag empty, Shawn grabbed Mel’s hand and led her back towards the main house. The tug of his fingers was impatient. “Where are we going?” she asked, picking up the pace.
“Somewhere with a door to close and have some privacy,” Shawn said. “Not my barracks,” he amended quickly.
“I have the carriage house to myself,” Mel said.
Shawn’s eyes darkened with desire, and her body shivered in response. “Lead the way, Mel,” he said, her name almost a growl.
They walked around the back of the main house, skirting the veranda.
Floor-to-ceiling windows allowed her a peek inside, where the Sperantes team was bent over a table full of laptops.
No one looked up. A frisson of guilt ran through her, but she pushed it down.
They were going to be elbows-deep in code for days.
Without her over their shoulders, the team wouldn’t feel micromanaged.
As she climbed the stairs up to the second level, Mel tried to remember if she had left her room a disaster.
Fortunately, Mel kept her room almost spotless, lest April glance in and find something to criticize.
They emerged onto a weather-worn deck that spanned the width of the building, occupied solely by a lone outdoor table.
Mel opened the French doors into the main living area, revealing a modern and livable common area, with big, plush furniture.
Twisting the lock secure behind them, shutting out any potential interruptions.
Shawn leaned against the wall by the door and loosened one boot.
The veins in his arm flexed with the movement of his thick fingers on the laces.
Mel swallowed, picturing those fingertips exploring, drawing out the slick arousal between her thighs.
The boot came off, and he shifted his weight to address the second.
A slow, devious smile spread across Shawn’s face. He had caught her staring at him. Kicking away the second boot, he stalked toward her. Breath caught in Mel’s throat. Fantasy and reality were finally colliding, and if his kisses were any indication, this would be even better than she had imagined.
Shawn dropped to his knees before her. His hands found her hips, and he leaned forward, kissing her stomach.
It was adoring, endearing, and overwhelming.
It felt too much like worship. But she couldn’t bear to stop him.
His palms traced her legs down to her calves, where he unzipped one boot and then the other.
Mel set her hands on his muscular shoulders to balance while he helped her step out of them.
At least her socks matched. He tossed her shoes aside and rose.
Suddenly nervous, Mel moved toward the kitchen area. “Want a drink?” Mel asked over her shoulder. He was at her back, warm and solid, hands settling on his hips.
“I want you,” he replied, kissing where her neck met her shoulder. Mel lolled her head back with a hum of desire. She wanted him so much that her chest ached. The press of his lips on the sensitive skin made her brain glitch, her body unable to do anything but stand there and feel pleasure.
Shawn slipped his hand around her stomach and traced underneath the top of her waistband with calloused fingertips. The movement made her desperate for more. She turned around to face him. “This way,” Mel said, tilting her chin to the door to the right.
As if he had been waiting for that little bit of encouragement, Shawn lifted her into his arms. Surprised, Mel squealed. She had not been expecting him to literally sweep her off her feet, even after his words last night. He swiftly carried her to the bedroom with ease.
Shawn kicked the door shut. “I told you we needed a door that closed,” he said.
He set her back on her feet. Before Mel found her balance, Shawn snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her body against his.
There was a confidence and strength in his touch that was intoxicating.
Shawn lowered his lips to her ear. “Even better that no one’s nearby. You can be as loud as you want.”
Mel winced. Her cheeks flamed at the memory of Andi telling her that she could be heard through the wall. They established yesterday that they both regretted their choices that night. Surely he couldn’t be referring to that.
“Like I said, I have spent too many nights imagining you moaning my name. Screaming my name,” he rasped.
Mel’s heart clenched to know that he had thought about her.
The intrusive memories fell away, and Mel could savor fulfilling his fantasies.
And her own. Shawn pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the pulse point in her neck.
“Screaming my name as I’m buried inside you,” he added.
Mel pressed her legs together in anticipation. The thought of him filling her made her moan, eyelids fluttering. “Shawn,” she begged.
“Not yet,” he growled into her neck.
Shawn dropped to sit on the foot of the bed.
He reached forward and tugged the hem of her shirt upwards.
Mel raised her arms and threw her shirt aside.
His gaze snagged on the thin pink lace of her bra, before his eyes met hers again.
The lust in his eyes gave her confidence and soaked her panties.
Holding eye contact, Mel unbuttoned the top of her jeans and pulled down the zipper.
The tendon in his jaw twitched, and she resolved to explore it with her tongue later.
Slowly, Mel slid her jeans over her rear and down her thighs until gravity took over.
The denim pooled on the floor, and she stepped out of it.
She toed off her socks to find the hard wood cold under her feet.
Her black panties were old, and she cursed herself for not bringing something cuter or even just newer and matching with her bra.
Shawn sat as rigidly and still as a statue.
His arms braced on either side of him, his knuckles white where he gripped the bedspread like a lifeline.
He was definitely not judging her underwear.
Mel reached behind her and unclasped her bra.
Her breasts fell free as the straps slid down her arms. The garment dropped to the floor, and Shawn swallowed audibly, stare fixed on her chest. His throat bobbed.
Mel stepped forward. Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him deeply.
His hands slid along her lower ribs, thumbs brushing under her breasts.
Whatever this caution was, it only made her ache more for him.
She needed more of his skin against hers. Immediately.
Trailing her hands down his torso, her fingers gripped the soft olive cotton and tugged.
He took over, pulling the shirt over his head.
A series of red, angry scars scattered across his otherwise tanned stomach and chest. They were dark and new.
Now was not the time to ask what happened.
However, she failed to keep the concern off her face.
Shawn shrugged. “I’m cleared for duty,” he said. His relaxed tone was very practiced and hid defensiveness. They both knew that “light duty” meant not even lifting a ream of paper. Insinuating a tough guy might be injured was a moment killer, so Mel wouldn’t press him on it.