Canyon Shadows (11 page)
Authors: Vonna Harper
Fighting the flow, she struggled to tap into Maco. Obviously he was turned on, but did it go beyond that? Perhaps he wanted more from her than sex?
She’d ask, maybe, later.
Something weak and nearly silent tried to warn her that she risked losing her soul to this man, but with her body screaming for him, she barely heard it. She’d deal with reality and consequences later. Now the animal in her ruled. Demanded satisfaction.
A whimper broke free followed by an earthy sigh she felt throughout her. Listening to it, she acknowledged that it was too late to keep her arousal from him. His body remained wrapped around hers, covering it and keeping it safe.
Safe?
Sinking into the depths of the damnable whirlpool was more like it. Wanting to fuck and be fucked.
Locking her knees in place, she tried to concentrate on what was happening. They’d stormed past tentative exploration without taking so much as a breath. Things were already in overdrive or nearly so. She could do the
mature
thing and push him back, declare she wasn’t
that
kind of woman, but she was and he knew.
mature
thing and push him back, declare she wasn’t
that
kind of woman, but she was and he knew.
Consequences later. Impulse now.
Her decision made, she turned herself over to her body. Her head throbbed. The vibrations spread lower, flowed wider, seeped into her arms and belly, pooled in her groin. There was enough left over to infuse her legs. Even her feet seemed to tremble.
Parting her lips, she sighed.
She was still exhaling when his tongue slipped between her lips. Sighing again, she let him in. His tongue ran over her teeth and then entered the damp cavity. Wild to match him invasion for invasion, she somehow managed to wait until he withdrew a little and then did the same. There. Show him she understood how the sexual dance was done. His resultant groan was rougher and lasted longer than hers had.
Maco Durant. Construction company owner. Flyer of massive helicopters with rearing mustangs painted on the side. A man who got what this woman needed.
Thank you.
Despite the strain in the back of her neck, she slid her hands down his backside and lightly cupped his ass cheeks. He pushed back, prompting her to increase her hold. Yes indeed, no starting in first gear for them. Straight on to the danger zone.
Under his skin and a minimal amount of fat lay muscles built by a physical life. At first she detected no movement, only heat. Then his buttocks tightened. Faint tremors seeped into her fingers and set her heart to racing even more. Wondering at her boldness, she reared back so she could unbuckle his holster. That done, she carefully dropped it to the floor and again claimed his ass cheeks so she could pull him toward her. Full of promise, his erection ground into her. She imagined it inside her, completing her.
“Oh God, God,” she moaned.
“You’re killing me.” Not giving her time to respond, he covered her buttocks with his take-charge hands and drew her even closer. Despite their clothes, their bodies sealed. Her heart threatened to break from her chest, and her cheeks were so hot she had trouble breathing. The growing, swirling heat rushed through her to make her stupid. She was certain of only one thing. They’d have sex. Soon. No questions asked or explanation given.
Only skin against skin.
Her throbbing breasts demanded to be freed from the confining bra, but instead of trying to pull back as the first step in accomplishing the task, she turned to the side a little and pressed her left breast more firmly against him. Her rock-like nipple ground into him. A moment later, she rocked to the other side. Her left nipple probed at him.
Another deep groan erupted from Maco. “I didn’t, shit, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Didn’t you?” She couldn’t remember what had brought him here.
“Maybe.” Bending his knees, he sank down until his cock found her mons. As she’d done earlier, he rocked this way and that. The delicious, erratic pressure had her throwing back her head and shaking it from side to side. Her breasts strained to break free of what now felt like a prison.
No maybe to it. Going by how forcefully he’d reached for her, he had to have had fucking her in mind from the moment he decided to see her today.
She’d felt the same the instant she’d spotted him.
Even before.
Her heated fingers ached from the pressure she was subjecting them to. Again giving into the impulse that had taken her into his space, she dug her nails into his ass cheeks. He made an animal sound, then did the same to her buttocks.
She kissed him open-mouth again, holding back a little because if she didn’t she’d go insane. Not smashing her mouth against him took her to the edge of self-control and yet she loved the promise of what would happen once—not if—nothing was held back.
Lips on lips, hot breaths heating each other. And all the while his erection warning and promising. Demanding.
She was ready. Hell, she could barely wait for him to make good on the unspoken message.
Letting go of her ass, he cupped the sides of her head and held her gently. Kisses like feathers brushed her cheeks, nose, and chin to tamp down a little on the fire. God how she loved this! On a sigh that came from her gut, she slid her hands lower so her fingers trailed over the backs of his thighs. They arched toward each other again, both of them rolling from side to side, fucking through their clothes. What did they need with intricate disrobing? Maybe they’d both come while standing here, no delicious press of cock against sex channel needed.
A sound, first faint and then sharp, stopped her. For an awful instant she was taken back to a rifle’s deadly cry. Then she realized Ona was having a dream that had her slapping her tail against the wooden porch.
Maco laughed. “You know what they say about letting sleeping dogs lie.”
“We could go inside.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes.”
“What about what’s going to happen in there?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. If that’s a problem for you, we need to stop right now.”
“Easy,” he whispered. Letting go of her, he picked up his holster. The weapon dangled from his fingers. “I didn’t mean to push—all right, no thinking. Just acting.”
Hating the separation, no matter how brief, she pulled away from him and opened the front door. As she stepped inside on legs she didn’t trust, she wondered what he thought of the place she called home. Then she sensed him behind her and that no longer mattered. Gathering herself, she stood with her back to him and her body lonely for his touch.
This was insanity. Fucking simply for the sake of fucking. Maybe.
Sometimes insanity made everything possible.
“Not sure?” he asked. She couldn’t tell how close he was. “You’ve changed your mind?”
No. Hell no!
Much as she wanted to study his reaction, she didn’t turn around as she undid the buttons on her blouse by way of answer. Her hands shook and fumbled at the complex chore.
Much as she wanted to study his reaction, she didn’t turn around as she undid the buttons on her blouse by way of answer. Her hands shook and fumbled at the complex chore.
Taking charge, he placed his revolver on the coffee table and drew the blouse off her shoulders. His fingertips skimmed her collarbone. By the time she spun around so she could look into his eyes, he’d tossed it on to a chair.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Incredible.”
She wasn’t. Her body, although toned from her active lifestyle, was far from spectacular. She’d always thought of herself as ordinary and average, which was just fine, but if Maco saw her as beautiful today, she’d believe him.
“Your turn.”
Despite her
command,
he took too damn much time pulling open his shirt. One at a time, the snaps made faint metallic sounds. Watching his progress might have been easier than staring at the low-slung jeans and what they revealed, but she couldn’t take her gaze off his nearly concave belly and the matt of dark hair disappearing into territory she ached to explore. When, finally, he was done and his shirt had joined hers, she dragged her attention upward. The hairs on his broad and solid chest were the same deep chestnut as what she was certain sheltered his groin. How different the thick curling strands were from the male models gracing books, magazines, and calendars. Why in all that was healthy would a man shave what nature had given him? Maco was real. A man in a man’s world. The one who’d walked into her house.
command,
he took too damn much time pulling open his shirt. One at a time, the snaps made faint metallic sounds. Watching his progress might have been easier than staring at the low-slung jeans and what they revealed, but she couldn’t take her gaze off his nearly concave belly and the matt of dark hair disappearing into territory she ached to explore. When, finally, he was done and his shirt had joined hers, she dragged her attention upward. The hairs on his broad and solid chest were the same deep chestnut as what she was certain sheltered his groin. How different the thick curling strands were from the male models gracing books, magazines, and calendars. Why in all that was healthy would a man shave what nature had given him? Maco was real. A man in a man’s world. The one who’d walked into her house.
Her breathing raged as she reached up and lightly ran her fingers over his shoulders. A faint splattering of freckles dressed his right shoulder while a thin, pale scar rode the ridge of his left collarbone. After sticking her forefinger in her mouth to dampen it, she touched the scar.
“War wound?” she asked.
“More like not paying enough attention to what I was doing during my reckless youth. A scared bronc and barbed wire trumps skin every time.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“I hope you do. I’d hate to see you hurt.”
“I have my share of battle wounds. Hard to be around as many dogs as I have and not lose a few skirmishes.”
“I guess not, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” His tone dropped. “Your turn. Garment for garment.”
Garment for garment? Had he forgotten that her bra put her one up on him?
Trying not to give away the notion that she’d win the first round, she braced an arm against the chair where her blouse lay. Watching him watch her, she lifted one foot and then the other as she removed her shoes. The task seemed to take forever.
“Your turn.”
He took his own sweet and unnerving time dispensing with his boots in essentially the same way she had. It occurred to her that usually he sat down to tackle the chore but maybe he chose looming over her over comfort. When he was done, she studied what she could see of his feet through the sock layer. They were long and broad, perfect for getting him through long days. The thought of complimenting him on something he’d had no control over dried her throat. Maybe the same thing was happening to him because he didn’t remind her that the next step was hers.
His eyes had held on her breasts as she removed her shoes so she made a show of leaning over more than necessary to grab her socks. Unfortunately her bra hadn’t been designed to reveal cleavage. She debated running a finger between her breasts, but that task was reserved for a far bolder woman, one who knew what the hell she’d gotten herself into.
Feeling overwhelmed, she deposited her socks on top of her blouse. Cocking her head was as close as she could come to passing the ball to him. Once more he balanced himself on one sturdy foot and then the other while peeling off his white, utilitarian socks.
Smiling a little, he folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side as she’d done. Ah, shit. They were getting into serious territory. Waiting for anticipation to become reality threatened to tear her apart. At the same time she needed to draw out these moments and give herself time to grab handfuls of courage.
She wasn’t afraid of having sex with Maco. Truth was she could barely wait for the feel of him inside her. But what if she thought too much? Made the mistake of looking ahead to tomorrow?
Wasn’t going to happen.
Oh yeah?
Next time, if there was such a thing, and she prayed there’d be, she’d undress him. Then she’d ask him to do the same to her. Or would she? Crazy as it sounded, she didn’t know him well enough to turn certain tasks over to him. These were her shorts and her responsibility. And beneath them panties and a pussy desperate for his touch.
Confusion reigned.
Not caring whether he noted her trembling fingers, she unsnapped and unzipped. Because she couldn’t abide tight clothes, she had little trouble easing the denim over her hips. She stopped the instant her practical nylon panties came into view.
“Interesting,” he said. “Not interested in the sexy stuff?”
“On a working day, hardly.”
“But there are times?”
Rarely and not for a long time. “What do you want to do, talk or the other?”
“The other.”
He’d done the hook-his-thumbs-over-his-waistband thing while they were talking and now struck a pose that made it impossible for her to keep her eyes off the promise between his legs, not that she tried. Not long ago her throat had been dry. Now she fairly salivated.
Saying a private
To hell with them
to her panties, she continued her shorts’ downward journey. Her thighs came into view, one pale but firm inch at a time. Had she shaved recently?
To hell with them
to her panties, she continued her shorts’ downward journey. Her thighs came into view, one pale but firm inch at a time. Had she shaved recently?
Didn’t matter.
Slow and hopefully sensually, she guided her shorts to the floor and stepped out of them. Bra and panties. Naked except for that. Proud of her accomplishment and scared to death—of what?
A breeze slipped in the open window to glide over her flesh. Despite the warmth, she shivered. If he noticed, he gave no indication.
Your turn,
she silently begged.
Yours now.
she silently begged.
Yours now.
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