All I Want Is You (A Chester Farms Novella) (8 page)

Maybe going through his things wasn't the best idea. She crossed through his room, heading for the door, but his big bed seduced her into stopping in her tracks. It didn't look big enough to be a king, but it was far bigger than her little twin mattress shoved in the corner. Plenty of space to curl on with him. Then some rolling room should that be needed. She couldn't help it and pressed down on the mattress. The pillow top gently gave as a mattress should and sprang back in place. Sweet mother, her back was crying out to lay on that.

The closet door stood open and his blue work shirts hung up along the left. A cute welding cap with cherries all over it dangled from a hook. A guy from college had taken a welding class, but his stuff was always sweaty and gross.

This one was clean, but a small tear on the side was fraying at the edges. She stroked her finger over the pattern and caught the dim, faded look of the red cherries against her bright and shiny nails. It'd gone through a lot of washes. Patrick's stuff was actually used daily and wasn't some shop class taken for credits.

She glanced over her shoulder and didn't hear or see anything, so she lifted the cap and fit it over her head in the mirror. The soft material dropped down to her eye lashes and she rolled it up one time, kicking the mini sized bill up in the air. A snicker started up and she silenced it to not draw attention.

Last thing she wanted was to be caught playing dress up in his clothes. Guys were supposed to be into women wearing their stuff, but it seemed too soon to be putting on his clothes. She stroked a finger down one of the stiff, long sleeves. She really wasn't up for any humiliation tonight, no matter how much she wanted to see where the bottom of this shirt would land. Knees? Mid-thighs? It wouldn't be any higher than that.

She lifted a shoulder and that kiss was back at the forefront of her mind. It had just been too hot. And his sides where she'd clung to him had been nothing but hard muscles. Plus that hard line of him in his pants that had appeared against her hip. A chill chased by a flush of heat went over her as she touched his shirt again.

She couldn't.

But she could.

But she shouldn't
.

All the months of watching him come and go for ice cream and then that kiss and him being in her room and the scent of his cologne in the air washed over at once. She jerked his shirt off the hanger and glanced over her shoulder.

So what. It was just sex. With a hot guy she knew little about, but then at the same time, it seemed like she knew tons. He just...he got it. He got what she wanted and she ripped her shirt off. As sexy as his ass was in those jeans, and as hot as his hands had been while tugging at the roots of her hair, she'd been waiting to jump his bones ever since he said she was smart to be living like she was.

She stripped her shirt for his and buttoned it to just above her breasts. She pushed her pants down and stood in front of the mirror mounted on the dresser. Her mouth was suddenly dry and a chill went up between her legs.

What the hell was she doing? Her eyes widened at the sight of her reflection. Oh my God. This was stupid. Energy surged through her veins. Hairs stood up along her neck. This was crazy. This was nuts. She didn't go around putting on men's clothes. She turned for her pants to get the hell out of there before she got caught.

"Tasha?"

She froze as his footsteps came closer. No wait. Yelling for him to go back was on the tip of her tongue. She needed a plan! There had to be a plan to figure out how to do all this. As his shadow stretched over the carpet, signaling she had seconds to do something, she turned around in the room and had nothing. The idea of diving in the closet and hiding crossed her mind, but time was up.

He walked in, made it a whole step and froze.

His gaze dropped from her head, down the front. Even her toenails felt that delicious look with his eyes widening and lips parting ever so slightly. The good idea feelings about this whole thing were definitely coming back. Three dates. Months of wanting him. Not too soon. He took a step closer. Absolutely not too soon at all.

She touched the buttons of the shirt going down the front of her and lifted her hands to the cap. "I always wondered how these things fit."

He adjusted the cap so the flap of it hung over her left ear. "That way."

She nodded and lifted her gaze to his, still wishing for a plan. Anything would be better than her current state of turning into a puddle of goo. "I lied to you."

He searched her face. "Okay."

Maybe not anything, but this was talking instead of just staring while her mind got fuzzy on his spicy cologne and remembering the way his rough fingers had been against her cheeks. And this lie would probably come up again later. "About the latch. I don't have a broken latch. I don't know if I have a latch at all. It was a cheap trick to get you in my bedroom."

He gestured down the front of her. "And this."

"I don't know." Her breaths were full and heavy. "You walked in before I could figure out what I was doing."

His hands moved up her arms. "If you hadn't mentioned the latch, I wouldn't have thought another word about it."

From what she knew of him so far, he was lying again. She lifted on her toes to scoot in a little closer to feel more of him against every length of her that she could manage. "I'm still panicking without a plan."

"Plans are for suckers." He dipped his head and his lips skimmed across her cheek.

"I want you to know I'm not usually this easy." The light scruff of his jaw touched the sweep of her neck and she was all but launching off the floor. Oh my God, best idea ever!

"You seem to do a lot of not normal or usual things when it comes to me."

"I'm noticing that." She could still leave, right now, if she wanted to. Put a stop to this, keep her good, well-behaved, wait-a-month-into-the-relationship panties on and leave. Dear God, the very idea of walking out of here was downright laughable. She grabbed his shirt and ripped it from his jeans.

"I like it." His hands eased down her sides and fisted the over-sized shirt.

The rough material against her thighs lifted bit by bit. Cool air touched over the curves of her backside and then against the low scoop of her panties near her belly. His knuckles brushed along her hips as he lifted the shirt higher and she shivered. She adjusted her weight and pressed her thighs together. There was surely a string running directly from the top of her sensitive skin all the way to the very center of her thighs. Every touch, stroke, caress and hot kiss pulled at that spot.

His lips skimmed along her neck and kissed at her hairline. "I know you don't have a plan." His voice was nothing but a whisper that seemed to be raked over a bed of coals before escaping. "But if you've figured one out that has you leaving anytime soon, we need to stop here."

Nope. Leaving wasn’t anywhere in her near future. He was a pool and she happily drowned. She grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. His stomach was hot and hard on her hands and he sucked in a quick breath as she dipped her fingers in his jeans. She traced the inside of his pants around his stomach from hip to hip, then back to the center and popped open the button. "I'm good right here."

His shoulders were thick, and his chest was broad. His arms were sculpted and shaped as he reached around her and pulled her in. Dark hair spread across his chest and dipped down into the waist of his pants. She lifted on her toes and pressed her mouth to his.

Smoking hot flames couldn't touch the heat of him against her. Time apart may make the heart grow fonder, but halt a few hours of kissing action and her libido jolted into high gear. She was more sure of this than ever. Not just because of the firm ridge of his length against her lower belly. Or because of his hard chest against hers, with her rear-end cupped in his big, squeezing hands.

There was that supportive and helpful stuff he did, too. Like when he used his arms to work that broom. Or when he built something for her.

Whew, it was getting hotter in here and she had on too many clothes. Panties, a bra, and a long sleeve shirt was far too much for the drumming race of her heartbeat. His thumbs hooked into the band of her undies, and he read her mind as he pushed them down. The scrap of fabric fell against her thighs and she kicked them off to the side. The gripping hold of his bare hands on her naked rear pulled a stuttering gasp out of her throat. The part of her thighs were heavy and aching while he took his time tracing the under curves of her back end. His fingers were somehow long enough to dip between her thighs and stroke the tender part of her opening.

Epic levels of too hot with too many clothes. She pushed off his chest to get some needed space to get this shirt off.

A gasping breath of air pulled in his chest as he turned around and rested his hands on the dresser. "I'm sorry."

Sorry for not undressing her fast enough? Not a problem. She worked the row of buttons down, getting two open before she grabbed the end of the over-sized shirt and just ripped it off instead. Task taken care of. "Don't be."

He breathed again. "Just give me a minute and I can take you home."

What? No. She gripped his forearm. "Patrick?"

His head was down, eyes closed. "It's okay. This was fast. We can slow it down if you're uncomfortable. I'd rather you push me away and stop this than do something you don't want."

Oh, no. She'd leave over her dead body. "Look at me."

He angled his head toward her and his eyes widened. She reached back and unclipped the two hooks of her bra and let it drop to the floor to lay with her panties.

She brought her hands up to rest on her naked hips. "Do I look uncomfortable and ready to leave?"

In the blink of an eye, she was in his arms again. He grabbed her and pushed her back until her thighs hit the mattress and she sat. The teasing, opened-fly of his jeans was inches from her lips. She kissed his flat belly right above the zipper and he hissed. His abs tightened against her mouth and she left a row of kisses along the waist of his jeans.

He twisted and flexed as she licked above his hip. He shifted his weight from one leg to another. A moan that sounded like it came from deep in his chest hummed out. She was already about at her wit's end, but that noise ended her teasing. She pressed her palm to the front of him and ran her hand up his hard length.

The shake that went over him had her dropping her touch back down him and up once again. He pushed her to the flat of her back and was over her with his mouth hungry on hers. Teeth hit in an urgent need for more kisses, more taste, more everything.

His jean-clad hips nestled firmly between her thighs. His member in the hard denim rested against the most sensitive spot on her body, and if her toes curled anymore, they'd surely be touching her heels. He didn't rock or thrust. Just his weight against her drove her crazy. She couldn't concentrate or even think as he settled there.

Pressure on pressure holding her in a steady line of dying for more but not getting it had every last bit of her wound up tight. His open mouth left a trail of hot kisses down her shoulder and then he went and did it. He shifted.

A breathless yelp launched out of her throat and she lifted her hips as he moved. A swift kiss landed on top of her breast, then on the other one. He took her in his mouth and sucked as she arched off the bed wanting more. Holy shit, she couldn't take much more of this.

His weight was still firm against her opening, and now a hand trailed down her side sending out a wave of chills over her skin. She held him by the shoulders, trying to hold out for more as his fingertips teased. Little, patient caresses of a knuckle grazing alongside her opening. She couldn't even form the words.

Fuzzy thoughts of wanting and needing as he took his time lightly touching over her were all she could manage. She lifted her hips and tried to force him to take more. The end of his cool fingertip finally penetrated her hot opening and she cried out with sweet relief that was chased away by a greedy plead for more.

A plea that went unanswered as he lifted over her and sealed his mouth to hers for another heart stopping kiss. Her lungs burned to grab a deep breath of air as his kiss ended and he pushed off her. "Give me two seconds."

Considering she couldn't even feel her legs, she wasn't going anywhere. If she thought there was a chance she could manage to walk, it would be to follow him into the bathroom. His jeans landed on the floor in the bathroom doorway and the sound of foil ripping signaled what she'd been wanting more than anything.

He stepped back into the room and she was pretty sure she swallowed her tongue. She knew a little of what to expect with his chest and abs. She'd seen him in tight t-shirts. The long, firm rod extending from the dark hair at the base of his hips wasn't what she'd pictured through his jeans. With that in his pants, it was a wonder he'd managed to keep them on as long as he had.

He crawled across the bed and lowered to kiss on her shoulder and chest again. The tip of him pressed against her and she lifted her hips trying to bring him in, but he held back. He combed hair from her face and his nose hovered right over hers. "Last chance to change your mind."

God, if they stopped now, she'd likely break down and cry. "I want you."

He eased forward, pressing in, then back out. Then again, and again. Belatedly, she realized a whimper escaped her with each pull. His arms braced on either side of her head shook. His eyes were tightly shut and a grunt escaped as he pressed in. His hips came down close enough that she wrapped her legs about his waist and trapped him from pulling back.