Chapter 9 #2
Rush’s voice cracked across the frozen yard, and Riggs immediately froze—but not before one bony leg caught her in the stomach.
Lily yelped, twisting to escape, but the massive dog was having none of it.
She let out a breathless laugh as Riggs, tail wagging wildly, his massive paws on both of her shoulders, stared down at her.
“Riggs! You big oaf—get off!” It came out more of a breathless giggle than a command.
But he wasn’t listening anyway. He was too delighted.
He licked the snow straight off her face, wagging his tail so hard his entire body wriggled with happiness above her.
She buried her hands in the warm underbelly of the dog and pushed.
He didn’t budge. Instead, he lay down on her, nearly crushing her with his weight, and licked another slow, deliberate path over her face before sitting back with a pleased doggy grin.
Her lungs, already wheezy from the cold, constricted even more under his weight, but she didn’t care. She stroked his soft fur and grinned back at him.
“Off!”
Rush’s voice cut sharply through the air.
The dog’s weight vanished instantly. Lily curled into a ball with a groan.
“Lily!” Rush’s voice was tight with concern. And then he was by her side, brushing the hair off her face and turning her over.
Lily blinked up at him while she caught her breath. “I’m fine,” she managed, still breathless.
His broad shoulders, encased in his sheepskin jacket, blocked out the sky, and the world narrowed to the two of them in the crystalized snow globe they were in. This close, she could see the different shades of gray in his eyes as he looked her over matter-of-factly.
Rush exhaled sharply, his frown deepening between his brows as she lay silently taking him in. She should probably reassure him, say something light. But she was distracted.
By the way the winter light caught on the perfect, individual snowflakes dotting his hat and the thick black hair that curled around the edges.
She wanted to reach up, to take his hat off, and feel the silky-looking strands between her fingers.
He had beautiful eyelashes, framing the most gorgeous pair of clear gray eyes she’d ever seen.
His square jawline, covered in the kind of scruff that made her want to run her fingers over it, flexed as his gloved hands skimmed lightly over her arms, waist, shoulders, searching for wounds, leaving a flutter of something wonderfully sensual low in her stomach and between her thighs.
It had been a long time since someone had touched her like that, with that much focus.
God, it felt so good to be touched again.
Her lips curved into a smile before she could stop them.
“Does anything hurt? Did you hit your head?” he said in a low voice that caused a shiver to run through her body.
Only in a way that you’re making worse.
She didn’t say it. Instead, she just smiled up at him, soaking in his warmth and the careful way his fingers brushed over her skin despite the barriers of coats and gloves.
He hesitated then brushed a lock of her icy hair back from her face, his frown deepening at what he saw there.
“Are you laughing?” he asked incredulously.
She knew that look. He still thought she was a little crazy. It should have been insulting, but she’d seen that expression her whole life—from the people she loved most, who thought they understood her better than she understood herself.
Rush Callahan was no different.
“Lily, do you know where you are?” he asked, his voice cautious.
The sheer ridiculousness of the question hit her like a slap of cold air. Oh, for God’s sake. Again?
Exasperation flared hot in her chest. Without thinking, she scooped up a handful of snow and smashed it into his face, grinning at the look of pure astonishment on Sheriff Rush Callahan’s too-handsome, too-serious face.
Snow clung to his mustache in the most distracting way, and for a second all she could think about was how much she wanted to brush it off—or maybe kiss it off, but Lily forced herself to focus.
She had to kick his ass in a snowball fight.
“Oh, relax, Sheriff.” Lily grinned, breath puffing in the cold air. “I haven’t lost my marbles. Riggs and I were having a snowball fight. Haven’t you ever done that before?”
His expression changed from concern to a slow grin that made her tremble. Lord, the man was too sexy for his own good. She reached for her only defense, a ball of snow, and leveled it at his face, before scrambling to her feet to arm herself again.
She barely had time to cover herself before a snowball hit her square in the chest. The icy shock of it took her breath away for a second before she scooped another handful of snow, whooping with delight. Riggs barked excitedly, bounding around them, his eyes pleading to join in.
So she threw a snowball right at his chest.
All hell broke loose.
She launched herself into the battle, giggling so hard her lungs ached.
Rush was relentless, his aim too damn good, but she fought dirty, and years of dance and yoga had made her quick and limber.
She twirled out of his aim and shot a handful of snow down his collar.
Another perfectly placed shot to the back of his head when he bent down made her laugh out loud.
They were everywhere, snow flying in all directions, laughter spilling into the crisp air. Rush laughed—an actual laugh—low and unrestrained, and the sound made something flutter in her chest.
It was the most beautiful sound.
With a growl, Rush took her out by the knees, and she collapsed willingly back into the snow, happier than she could remember being in… maybe forever. Her lungs were tight, a warning she knew all too well, but the sheer joy of the moment distracted her.
Rush’s hands found the back of her head as she hit the ground, his strong grip guiding her down as his body followed, solid and unyielding as he pressed her back.
She barely had a second to catch her breath before he was above her, flashing strong white teeth in a wicked grin.
Lily sucked in her breath, her pulse skittering as she reached for more snow, but he was faster.
His hands shot out, catching her wrists and dragging them above her head, arching her back and pinning her firmly into the cold, pillowy snow. Defeated at last, she looked up, breathless and buzzing with adrenaline from the press of his body against hers.
“Say uncle,” Rush demanded, his voice huskier than before. His breath puffed against her, warm against her chilled skin.
“Never,” she whispered, her grin fading as she became aware of their position. Her breasts pressed into his chest, and she wondered if he could feel the hard points of her nipples through their layers.
Lily wiggled her arms, testing the strength of his hold on her wrists, but he didn’t budge.
Her breath hitched. Oh. His thigh snugged up close between hers, and through her thin sweatpants and his jeans, she felt the solid thickness of him pressed tightly between her legs.
She went still. A slow, liquid heat warmed her, pooling low and deep in a way that had nothing to do with adrenaline and everything to do with a visceral response to the man settled between her thighs.
Instinctively, her legs drew up on either side of his hips, tightening and cradling his hardness. The laughter in Rush’s eyes faded, and his pupils darkened, flickering over her face lazily, down to her mouth and lingering there when her tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips.
A nudge from Riggs’s cold, wet muzzle in the crook of her neck broke the spell. Lily laughed at the sensation, but Rush didn’t smile.
“Go play,” Rush murmured, his voice lower now, more gravel than words, his gaze steady on hers. Riggs trotted off, but Lily barely registered it, so focused on the intensity of his eyes. Her smile faded slowly, replaced with something much, much heavier. Hotter.
Rush’s fingers flexed around her wrists, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough that her brain glimpsed what he was capable of. Power and submission. Control and restraint.
Strangely, the thought exhilarated her.
Her breath stuttered out unevenly while she studied his face. The sharp cut of his jaw and the storm brewing in his eyes, waiting. Testing her. He was a solid, unmovable weight on her, and it felt so good she let out a whimper and lifted her hip, pressing herself against him.
“Lily.” His voice was a rough warning.
A shiver shot down her spine. She should pull away. She should say something funny, anything, to break the charged silence stretching too long between them to be anything other than what it was.
“Tell me to stop,” he said.
She swallowed hard. She should. She really should.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered instead.
Rush let go of one wrist. His thumb came down to gently swipe away the snowflakes from her cheek. The gentle gesture made her ache. She wanted more. So much more.
So she reached up, threading her fingers through his thick black hair—his hat was long gone—to brush the snow away, her fingers lingering to caress him.
The warmth of his skull, the scratch of his beard against her fingertips—just as deliciously rough as she’d imagined.
He smelled like icy-cold winter and the wood he’d been chopping and the smoke of the fire in the cabin, masculine and delicious enough to make her want to twine her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
A tight, electric feeling gripped her, curling deep in her stomach, unfurling through her limbs like a slow, smoldering flame.
The laughter faded, leaving behind something wicked and heavy and inevitable between them.
Rush bent his head, his breath warm against her chilled lips, and she let her eyes drift closed.
And her lungs gave out.
A wheeze tore from her throat, shattering the moment. She opened her eyes, watching almost mournfully as Rush’s expression shifted from molten-hot lust to a sharply clinical look.
“Where’s your inhaler?” he barked, already moving, his heat vanishing as he quickly got off her and hauled her to her feet.
Just like that, the fire was gone. Lily bent forward and tried to suck in air.
Of course.
All her life, asthma had intruded at the worst possible moments.
She was seconds away from being kissed within an inch of her life…
And her lungs had decided now was the time to stop breathing.