A Real Cowboy Rides a Motorcycle (13 page)

BOOK: A Real Cowboy Rides a Motorcycle
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Oh, God, really? She focused on his touch as he gripped the waistband of her jeans and began to tug them down her hips, his mouth trailing kisses lower and lower as he pulled her jeans down. Instinctively, she lifted her hips, helping him. That was all he needed, and within a second, her jeans were gone. He'd left her underwear on, but he was already raining kisses over the soft fabric that provided no useful barrier between them.

He pressed a kiss to her swollen nub, and she gasped, twisting beneath him. His fingers traced circles along the edges of her underwear, brushing over the lace, making her want to beg for him to tear it off her. But she didn't. There was something about the teasing that was amazing, making her feel he wanted to savor every last second.

She'd never been savored before. She had to admit that she really liked it.

"I want to take my jeans off," he whispered. "Is that okay with you?"

She opened her eyes to look at him. He was stretched out between her legs, an arm wrapped round each of her thighs, his gaze searing into her as he waited for her to reply. She could see the muscles rippling in his back and shoulders, along with a few faded scars she assumed were from his bull riding days. He was rugged and raw, far from perfection, and her entire body clenched with the need for him. She nodded. "Take 'em off, cowboy."

He flashed her a grin, showcasing that dimple of his that made her want to melt, and then he eased himself off her. He stripped off his boots quickly, and she rolled onto her side, riveted as his muscles flexed while he disrobed. She couldn't help the sigh of anticipation as he stood and began to unfasten his jeans.

"You have a six pack," she said, her gaze trailing over the smattering of hair on his chest and his abs. "I didn't think real guys actually had them. I thought it was a myth created by skilled photo editing."

His fingers stilled on the bottom of his jeans, and he looked over at her. "Darlin', this here is all real, and it's all yours." He took his hands off his jeans. "You want the honors?"

She let out a choked laugh of embarrassment. "No, that's okay. I like to watch."

He sauntered over to the bed and leaned over, his palms sinking into the covers. "Go ahead," he said softly. "Indulge yourself. I want you to."

She had to admit, the idea of taking charge was a little intoxicating, especially when it came to a man who was twice her size and had enough muscle to dominate her easily if he chose to. He was so much stronger than she was, but right now, in his bedroom, she felt like she was the one with the power. She couldn't keep the grin off her face. "Okay."

"That's my girl." He stepped back and clasped his hands behind his head, his biceps flexing so ridiculously much that she felt like she had to be imagining things. Was this man really here for her, and just her? Had he really said that she was the first woman he'd ever trusted, in his entire life? Was it really possible that she was special to
him,
a man who was not only a physical specimen, but also who had a beautiful heart and so much vulnerability?

She swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and stood up. The moment she did, his eyes raked over her, burning her from head to toe. She was no svelte, gorgeous model, and couldn't even pass off her body as an athletic build. She wasn't even on the same scale as he was when it came to physical beauty, but the appreciation in his eyes made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her nipples tightened, and she walked over to him. His eyes darkened as she neared, but he kept his hands laced behind his head. A part of her wanted to go right for his jeans like he'd invited her to do, but another part of her wanted to savor the moment, the way he'd done to her.

She splayed her hands on his chest, feeling the softness of his chest hair, and the hardness of the muscles beneath. His jaw tightened, as she slid her hands upward to his shoulders, and then across and down his arms. His skin was hot to the touch, and so incredibly sexy. Need pooled in her belly when she saw the desire darkening his eyes. "I like your body," she said.

"I'm glad. Feel free to make it yours." His voice was low and rough, curling through her like a private seduction.

"Mine? Hmm..." She smiled, and put her hands back on his chest, running them over the ridges of his torso as she moved them downward. He sucked his stomach in as she touched it, the muscles quivering beneath her fingers. Resting her fingers on his waistband, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

His kiss was ravenous, immediately taking control, pouring such desire into her that her entire body began to melt into a boiling pool of need. He kept his hands clasped behind his head, though, still giving her the power, even while he stripped her soul bare with the intensity of his kiss.

She pressed her breasts against his chest, loving the feel of his skin against her nipples while he kissed her. Allowing her fingers to dance over the waistband of his jeans, she unfastened the button and then unzipped his fly. His erection was straining against the front of his jeans, and she couldn't help the shiver of anticipation. She couldn't remember the last time any man had wanted her this much, let alone the last time that she'd responded so intensely.

She hooked her thumbs over the waistband of his jeans, and tugged downward. She realized almost immediately that she'd accidentally grabbed his boxer briefs as well as his pants. She paused, hesitating. Did she really want this? This moment, this man, this magical experience?

He stopped the kiss, as if sensing her hesitation. He waited in silence, his lips resting against hers, giving her the chance to make her choice. Time seemed suspended as she waited, struggling with need and her own sense of self-preservation. A part of her wanted him to take charge, to be the one to rip off their clothes, to be the one taking ownership of what happened between them, as if that would somehow safeguard her heart, if she didn't actually admit to herself that she wanted this.

She pulled back to look at him. His dark eyes were hooded with desire, his gaze steady. Somehow, seeing his eyes made everything settle. This was Zane she was with, not some ridiculously hot stranger who meant nothing to her. Whatever happened in their future, she knew that this moment mattered deeply to both of them. Maybe it was the most either of them could give, maybe this was the pinnacle of what could ever be between them, but it didn't change that this moment was special, extraordinary even, a gift that she didn't have to fear.

She smiled, tightened her grip on his jeans and boxer briefs, and then tugged them down over his hips. His cock sprang free as his pants hit the floor, and she wrapped her hand around it as she stood up. The skin was velvet soft over the hardness, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation as Zane sucked in his breath.

"Nice," he whispered. "Did you know the second night we slept together, you were doing that to me? Holding me just like that?"

Heat flared in her cheeks. "What? I wouldn't have." She started to let go, but he grabbed her hand and held it where it was.

"You were asleep," he said, his voice rough with desire. "I thought it was awesome that you felt safe enough in your sleep to do that. A hell of a turn-on, too, I have to admit." He palmed her lower back with his free hand, lowering his head to nip at her earlobe. "I have never stayed so still for so long in my entire life, desperate not to disturb your sleep."

She let out a giggle, imagining Zane frozen for hours, afraid to dislodge her hand. "You're such a dork."

"Nah." He locked his arm around her waist and dragged her up against him, so his erection was against her belly, her hand trapped between their bodies. "I'm just a hot-blooded guy who knows when the right woman is in his bed. Speaking of which..." He scooped her up in his arms and tossed her into the middle of his mattress.

She'd just barely landed when he lunged after her. A scream of laughter burst from her as she scrambled up the pillows away from him, but he caught her ankles and dragged her back down toward him. She had no time to escape before he was on top of her, pinning her mercilessly to the bed with the weight of his body.

"And now, you're mine, my precious," he teased, sounding like some evil wizard who'd trapped her in a dungeon. He kissed her hard, deeply, mercilessly, claiming her in a kiss so searing she was pretty sure steam would soon be rising from her body.

He broke the kiss and lightly bit her ear, and then began working his way in small nibbles and licks down the side of her neck. "You're at my mercy," he continued in his mock evil voice, "to do whatever I wish. I warn you, my darlin', the fantasies I have about your naked body will shock you."

She giggled again, sliding her fingers through his hair as he worked his way down toward her breasts. It felt totally different having them both naked, except for the wisp of her underwear. So much skin, so much heat, so much intimacy, and so much trust. "I'm too innocent for a bad boy," she teased. "I think you should let me go."

"Never." He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, his hips pressing down against hers. His eyes were dark, and impenetrable. "You're mine, darlin', and I intend to keep you."

She knew he meant his words in play, and that he was referring just to this moment, but that didn't keep her heart from constricting.
I intend to keep you.
How amazing did those words sound? She wanted to be kept, to be fought for, and to be treasured beyond all words. Maybe there was no future for them, but in this moment, she felt like she had everything she wanted. "I don't think I can keep up with you." She grinned, tugging at her wrists just to see if he'd let her go.

He didn't. "I'll teach you everything you need to know." He paused at her breast, drawing her nipple into his mouth, using his tongue, his teeth, and his lips to torment her. Desire spiraled out in all directions, and she couldn't help but move her hips restlessly, needing more, already under his spell even though he'd barely begun to touch her.

"Like what?" She couldn't keep the breathlessness out of her voice.

"Like telling me what you want." He moved up again, and captured her mouth in a devastating kiss. "Take ownership of your body, Taylor," he whispered between kisses. "Claim me. Direct me. Make me your fantasy." He moved his hips, tempting her. "What do you want, darlin'? I want to give it to you."

"Kiss me," she whispered. "Kiss me."

"Like this?" He immediately captured her mouth in a kiss that plunged right to her soul. His tongue claimed hers, his mouth a sinful tool of seduction. She tried to get her hands free to wrap them around his neck, but his grip on her wrists tightened.

Excitement began to pulse through her at his refusal to free her. She liked the dichotomy of his relentless, bossy strength, combined with the fact he was demanding she take control. Power and submission combined into a heady place. "Let me go," she whispered, testing him.

"Not yet." He shifted his grip so both her wrists were in his left hand, and then slid his right hand over her breasts and down her belly. "What else do you want me to do, darlin'?" His breath was hot against her mouth, a temptation that was just out of her reach.

"Touch me."

He grinned, his dark eyes smoldering. "Here?" He put his hand on her elbow.

"You're a jerk."

He laughed. "That's not what you want? How about here?" He cupped her breasts, his finger flicking over her nipple.

She shifted under his touch. "Better."

"Where else?" he whispered, between kisses.

"Lower."

"Here?" He cupped her knee, making her laugh.

"You're such a pain," she said with a giggle.

"I just want you to feel the power of telling me what you want." He kissed her again, an intoxicating assault on all her senses, while his thumb drew circles on the inside of her knee. Okay, so she hadn't
though
t she wanted him fondling her knee, but the way his thumb was sliding over the skin on the inside of her knee was sending tendrils of desire though her body.

"A little higher," she whispered into the kiss.

He moved his hand to her thigh, his fingers tracing designs on the skin, making chills race down her leg and up her spine. "Here?"

"To the left."

His hand slid to the inside of her thigh, still tracing designs on her skin. "Here?" He kissed her again, taking her breath away before she could answer. The kiss was so amazing she could barely think, and her hips shifted even more restlessly, moving of their own accord, as if she could force his hand to go where she wanted just by sheer force of will.

"Higher," she whispered.

He moved his hand upward, until his fingers were brushing over the delicate fabric of her underwear, tantalizing her with the soft, barely-there touch as he glided across her body. "Nice," he whispered, as he ran his tongue down the side of her neck.

She shifted beneath him again. "Take it off."

"Take what off?" He pressed his palm to her folds, igniting a rush of desire, even through her underwear.

She groaned. "You're so impossible. Just take off my damned underwear and make love to me."

He laughed softly and kissed her, a kiss so penetrating that her body clenched in response. "You're so bossy." He finally released her wrists to drag her underwear over her thighs, trailing kisses down her leg as he slid the scrap of material off.

When she was finally naked, she had a brief second where she felt utterly exposed and vulnerable. There was nothing between them now.
Nothing.

Then he kissed her toe, making her giggle. "You have such a sexy toe," he murmured as he kissed the arch of her foot. "And under here. I've been dying to kiss this very spot." His hand was warm where he'd wrapped it around her ankle, trapping her just as he'd immobilized her wrists. He kissed her anklebone, and then the front of her shin.

She swallowed, watching him as he worked his way up her leg. His eyes were on her, his dark gaze swallowing her up in its heat. He kissed her kneecap, and then the inside of her knee. And then he began working his way up the inside of her thigh, never taking his gaze off her face.

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