Farmer Wants a Wife: Love and Friendship, Book 3 (12 page)

“Flirt.” His pencil flashed across the page.

“Only with you.” She wished she could see his drawing. “Are you any good?”

He made a few more deft strokes, scanned her body with his gaze and did another strong line. This time he held his pencil in a different way. Every time he looked up, her body tingled under his intense focus. The dried chocolate on her chest itched, but she held her pose because he’d asked—no, ordered—her into position. His gaze jerked from his page to concentrate on her breasts. Her nipples reacted to the visual stimulation and trails of pleasure reached out to frisk other points on her body. She squeezed her thighs together in an effort to hold the sensation.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. “I won’t be much longer.”

His stern timbre sent a rush of moisture to her pussy. A quake of urgent need flailed her brain and sent lustful messages skipping the length of her torso. A moan built deep in her chest, fought for release.

“Done.” He stood abruptly and grabbed a condom. Seconds later, he approached the bed. “You can let go now.” He uncurled her fingers and gently rubbed her shoulders. “Okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered, touched by his concern and care. This man might be younger, but he was streets ahead with his charm and mature nature.

“Good, because I’m so damn randy I could hammer nails with this big boy.”

A chuckle burst from her, a laugh of joy and relief, and she parted her legs in invitation. “Thank goodness.”

He surged into her with one hard stroke, rubbing her swollen clit with his well-placed thrust. The moan slipped free as she gripped his shoulders and raised her pelvis to silently urge him onward. He set a rapid pace, hammering into her with hard plunges. Susan gripped his shoulders and went with the ride.

Tyler cursed, muttered something else she couldn’t interpret and slipped his hand between their bodies. His fingertip pressed against her clitoris and pleasure twisted her belly. He rubbed back and forth, keeping the massage gentle. The wave of pleasure was almost agonizing with its sharpness and it dragged her under, tossing her into a tempest of bliss. Her channel pulsed around Tyler’s hard cock.

A masculine shout rang out, resounding. Tyler thrust a couple more times and stilled, his heart hammering against her breasts. After a long moment, he pulled out of her and discarded the condom. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her softly, none of his previous urgency evident in the seductive press of his lips. His mouth trailed down her neck, and he licked a spot on her collarbone.

“Yum, chocolate,” he said.

Susan glanced down at her chest. The pretty design was splotchy now with some of the chocolate transferred to Tyler’s pectoral muscles. Her fingers coasted over the light dusting of dark hair on his chest and stopped to rub at a chocolate spot. She lifted her finger to her mouth and sucked. “Yum.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners and amusement twitched his mouth. He drew back and studied her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Let me clean up some of this chocolate.”

Before she could answer, his head dipped and his tongue ran a crooked path across the curve of one breast. “Tastes good.”

“Let me.” She licked solid muscles and finished with a flick of tongue over his nipple.

He jumped and grinned at her. “That zapped straight to my cock.” A yawn punctuated the words.

Susan saw beyond his smile to the fatigue settling on his shoulders. “Connor is gonna kill me if you’re too tired to play rugby tomorrow.” She sighed. “Guess it’s a guy thing, pride or something. Maybe we should shower and get some sleep.”

“Probably a good plan. We can resume this in the morning.” He paused to check his watch. “In about four hours.”

“It’s a deal,” she said and slid off the bed, holding out her hand.

“Go start the shower,” he said. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

Susan hovered for long seconds before turning away, feeling as if he’d rejected her. Stupid. The bathroom was tiled—a luxurious wet room with a spa bath in the corner, the requisite toilet nearby. Susan padded across the cool tiles. Nice. She twisted the control and jumped when warm water came at her from several directions.

“Great shower,” Tyler said as he strode into the room.

Susan pushed aside her earlier pique and watched him approach. Pretty. So pretty. Her hands moved to his shoulders and slid around his neck before her brain issued the instruction. He wrapped his arms around her, resting them in the small of her back.

“This beats my lonely bed at home.” His lips nibbled then his teeth closed on the lobe of her ear. The bite of teeth reverberated and awoke her slumbering passions.

“If you carry on like that, I’ll jump you. Connor will get pissed at me and I’ll have to take it out on your sexy hide.”

Tyler laughed, a full sound of delight that made her want to laugh in return. “Part of me is tempted to continue because I’d like to see if your prediction comes true.”

“Wretch,” she said, turning in his arms to face him.

His amusement faded away, replaced by another more elusive emotion. He lifted a hand and smoothed his finger over her cheek. “You’re even better in the flesh.”

She rose on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. “So are you.”

Tyler reached around her to fill his hands with liquid soap. “Don’t distract me,” he said sternly. “My willpower is teetering and I need my beauty sleep.”

Susan snorted, the need to tease swelling inside her like one of the orgasms she’d experienced tonight. She filled her hands with soap and rubbed them over his chest. “Nice muscles.”

“I’m hoping you’ll give me a rub-down after the game tomorrow.”

“An excuse to run my hands all over you,” she said. “I don’t want to miss that opportunity.”

While she’d turned on the shower, he’d straightened the room, turned back the covers and placed a pink rose on one pillow. The romantic gesture brought tears to her eyes. It was a long time since a man had cared enough to spoil her with treats. Her heart was full and she felt like bursting into song as they slid into bed. Tyler spooned against her back, warming her with his larger frame. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

“I don’t know why it never occurred to me,” Susan said, her distasteful gaze on her wrinkled blue dress. “I’ll have to do a walk of shame through the foyer. What happens if someone recognizes me?”
Stupid
. Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

Instead, she’d let her hormones do the talking. Tyler hadn’t needed to talk her into sin. She’d walked through the door on her own two feet.

“Could you ring one of your friends and ask them to bring you a change of clothes?”

“Yes.” Susan whirled around to plant a kiss square on his lips. “Not only sexy but a brain box too. That’s a great idea.”

“I’m going to need to find some rugby boots before I can play this afternoon. Would Connor be able to help me with that?”

“Probably. Ring him.”

Someone tapped on the door. “Room service.”

“Would you mind getting it? I’d prefer if they didn’t see me,” Susan said with a frown.

“You’re ashamed of me.”

“Not true. I don’t want everyone to think I’m a total slut.” Even if it was true when it came to Tyler.

“No one will think that,” Tyler said.

Room service knocked again, and Susan scuttled to the bathroom and closed the door. Bother, if she’d been smart she would have grabbed her cell phone to ring Christina. Now she’d have to wait for room service to leave.

Susan paced back and forth in front of the mirror. When she noticed a bruise on the curve of her breast, she pulled the robe around her tighter to cover the mark. She waited another few minutes and pressed her ear to the door. Nope, she couldn’t hear a thing.

She opened the door and stepped out coming face-to-face, with the room attendant. And he recognized her. His quick up-and-down gaze filled her with irritation, his smirk the added insult as he left the room.

Chapter Seven

“What did you do after I dropped your clothes off this morning?” Christina asked with nosy interest.

Susan checked the expressions of the nearby people and decided she was safe. “We went shopping. Tyler wanted to buy art supplies and a present for his daughter. By the time we had a late breakfast, there wasn’t that much time before the game.”

“Tyler is an artist?”

“Yeah.” Susan recalled the drawing he’d done of her, the one currently tucked inside her handbag. “He’s good.”

“How do you know?”

“How do you know what?” Maggie asked as she joined them on the sideline. She wore a green beanie and her breath emerged with a puff of steam. “Julia and Ryan had a last minute appointment to view a house. They’ll be here in about half an hour.”

“I hope this one suits,” Christina said. “They’ve been looking for ages.”

“I’ve got a good feeling about this house,” Susan said. “My spidey senses tell me so.”

Christina snorted. “We’ll see.” She grinned at Maggie. “Susan needs to spill some details about her date.”

“We had a very nice time,” Susan said in a prim voice. “The game’s starting.” She scanned the faces and bodies, finally recognizing Tyler. He ran up and down the field, doing warm-up drills with the rest of Connor’s team. A spurt of anxiety filled her for a moment until she saw how competent he was with the football in hand.

“At least it’s not pouring with rain,” Maggie said. “Connor said I didn’t have to come, but I know how much he likes me to watch his games. After the last one, I was soaked by the end of the first half. I got a spanking for not using my common sense.”

Susan grinned while Christina said, “I don’t want to hear about your love life. You and Julia have hunky men to hold you in the middle of the night. Now Susan has a sexy farmer. There’s no justice in this world.”

Maggie giggled, a joyful and intoxicating sound that pulled an answering grin from Susan.

“Your birthday is coming up soon. Maggie, Julia and I can chip in and buy you a new battery operated boyfriend,” Susan said.

Christina let out a huff. “I knew you got some last night.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

“Quiet,” Maggie said. “The game has started.”

Usually Susan attended to games to keep Maggie company and to support Connor since they’d been friends for a long time.
The Tight Five ruled again
. She thought of her circle of friends and the nickname for their group, the name of Tight Five taken from a rugby term where five players bound in a tight formation to face the opposition team. They were like that. Four women and one man—friends—who used to work together at the accountancy firm and who maintained the friendship away from the job. Although at the rate they were adding husbands and friends, they’d soon manage an entire rugby team.

“Tyler knows what he’s doing,” Maggie said.

“He’s certainly does,” Susan said.

Maggie and Christina turned to smirk at her.

“Glad to hear it,” Christina said. “Are you going to spend tonight with him?”

Julia and Ryan hurried up to their group, followed by Caleb.

“Have we missed much of the game?” Julia’s blonde hair flowed around her shoulders and healthy color filled her face. She’d bloomed since Ryan’s return.

“About ten minutes,” Christina said. “How did the house hunting go?”

Julia beamed. “It’s perfect. Five bedrooms, open plan with a few acres of land and some outbuildings we can renovate for Ryan’s music.”

“What about you, Ryan?” Susan asked. “Did you like it?”

“The property is just what we were looking for,” Ryan said with a wink at his wife. “Plenty of room for kids and a nanny and for the guys to crash if we end up working late.”

“Wait—kids?” Maggie asked with a rush of excitement. “Are you…?” She trailed off and Susan knew she didn’t want to upset Julia.

“We’re pregnant,” Julia said, her wide smile putting them all at ease.

“That’s great!” Susan said.

“Congratulations,” Christina added.

“I’m so pleased for you,” Maggie said.

“The doctor said she’s healthy as a horse,” Ryan said.

Susan glanced at Caleb and noticed his grin. “You knew,” she said, her tone slightly accusing.

“Julia let Ryan tell me because he was bursting with excitement,” Caleb said.

“It’s perfect timing because we’re home for a while to work on some more songs,” Ryan said.

The whistle blew and the people standing on the other side of the field jumped up and down.

“
Oops
,” Maggie said. “We’ve missed a try. Who scored? Please tell me it wasn’t Connor.”

“Matthews scores a try for the Panthers,” the announcer said over the loud speaker. A blast from a classic rock tune about champions rose above the clapping and sideline celebrations.

“You’re safe,” Susan said. “So am I. We’d never hear the end of it if we missed a try.”

“Excuse me,” someone said from behind them.

They turned to face a group of teenage girls.

“It is. It’s Susan from
Farmer Wants a Wife
,” a spotty-faced brunette squeaked. “Could we have your autograph?”