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Authors: T. J. Kline

BOOK: Heart's Desire
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His hands stilled, surprised. “You want to be a foster parent?”

“I don't know. I'd like to have a place where troubled teens could come and be with the horses. An at-risk youth and horse rescue, I guess.” She laughed quietly at herself. “I should probably learn to keep myself on the straight and narrow first.” Her blue eyes looked up at him innocently, fear of rejection floating on the surface.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her into his lap. She immediately curled her hands against his ribs, tucking her head between his neck and shoulder.
This
was where he wanted her—vulnerable, responsive, and genuine. This is where she would reveal her emotions without hesitation, where the truth would slip from her lips without restraint. It was such an exposed position. This was the Jess he'd wanted to see all along. This was the woman who melted in his arms, the guileless woman beneath the armor. The woman whose fingers were lightly playing over the ridges of his abs through his shirt, making his pulse throb in his veins and his self-control take a vacation.

As much as he loved the feeling of having her in his arms, he wanted her to see his eyes and believe every word he was about to say. He tipped her chin up. “Listen to me closely—quit selling yourself short.”

She smiled sardonically. “But I'm only five foot three. I
am
short.”

He frowned down at her. “I'm trying to be serious here. We are going to get this figured out.”

She rose to her knees and straddled his lap, sighing as she looped her arms around his neck. “Fine, you figure it out. I have something more interesting to focus my attention on.” She pressed her lips against his jaw, trailing kisses toward his neck.

He felt every muscle in his body tense as she pressed against him. She dropped her mouth toward his, pausing to nibble on his lower lip. “Now,” she said, standing and unbuttoning her jeans before sliding them down her legs, “are you going to make love to me tonight, or are we just going to talk?”

Chapter Fourteen

J
ESSIE DIDN
'
T LIKE
the way Nathan was breaking down her resolve. Every time she thought she had him twisted around her finger, he'd pull away and somehow get her to let her guard down. This wasn't the Nathan she remembered or the one she'd seen so far, and he'd already confused her more than any man she'd ever met. She wasn't sure she could continue to hide her heart if he kept at this tender assault.

She knew he wanted her. He'd made that blatantly clear in the barn. She could see the heat in his eyes as he looked at her, could feel it in the way his hand shook slightly against her abdomen. Then he would shut it off, like the flip of a switch.

Well, that might not be the best way to describe it, but he could certainly control it better than she could. Every attempt she made at seduction seemed to work until he turned the tables on her.

He wasn't fooling her. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She'd felt his pulse race under her hand and the way he tensed when she straddled his thighs. She hadn't missed the hunger in his eyes when she threw her shirt at him. Yet, he refused to touch her. At least, not the way she wanted him to. Not that she didn't enjoy the foot massage. It had been pure bliss, relaxing yet somehow erotic. But she was tired of talking. Right now, she wanted him to make her forget. She slid her jeans down her legs and met his hot gaze with her own.

“Jess, wait.” He sat up and grasped her hips with his hands, pulling her between his knees and back down into his lap. He brushed her hair back from her face, growing somber. “I will absolutely make love to you, but only if
you
show up.”

“What are you talking about? I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.”

“I mean the real you, Jess.”

She immediately tensed. “Let go of me.”

His hands curved around her back, his fingers closing over her shoulders, holding her close to him when she wanted to pull away. She pressed her hands against his chest, and when he didn't budge, she curled her fingers into fists, bunching the material of his shirt, and clamped her jaw shut.

He chuckled, his eyes sweeping over her body hungrily. “Jess, you are the only woman I know who could be sitting in my lap wearing nothing but a lace bra and underwear and still seem as tough as nails. Do you think it's fair that you know what you do to me, but you pretend I don't do anything to you?”

He traced the ridge of her collarbone with a fingertip, leaving a trail of fire that burned from her neck to her belly, sending sparks of desire flashing within her. She gasped and Nathan wound his other arm around her waist, even though she wasn't trying to get up any longer.

She wanted to pretend she didn't understand what he was saying, but she knew. She just hadn't thought he'd been able to tell she'd been holding back.

She should have known better. If he wanted words, she could give him those. She would tell him whatever he wanted to hear if he would stop asking for things she couldn't ever offer him again. She couldn't recover from that kind of heartbreak a second time.

His fingers traced the curve of her breast at the top of her bra, down the vee of her cleavage and to her belly button, stopping at the top of her underwear, leaving every inch of her burning with agonizing desire. She watched his eyes follow the movement of his fingers, growing hungrier with each second, before he looked up and met her gaze. The meaningless words she'd planned on saying died on her tongue as the need she'd been trying to hold back exploded within her, making her want to writhe against him, to beg for his touch.

“Are you ready for that? Be honest with me, Jess.” His fingers trailed over her sex. “Because I want to make love to the real you, not the woman you think you need to be.”

Her lower back bowed involuntarily, her body reaching toward his touch, even as her mind continued to refuse to give him what he wanted. His other hand moved toward her shoulder, brushing the bra strap aside. He was touching her, his fingers barely caressing her skin with feather-light strokes, but she was still feverish with need. It was agony, for him to touch her but not touch her, to feel the heat from his body under her, his heart thudding heavily against her fisted hands, to feel his erection straining against his jeans and her body throb with matching hunger, yet still have barriers between them.

His fingertips traced the curve of her breast, outlining it, as if trying to memorize the contours of her body. “No more games, no more pretending.”

She sucked in a deep breath, arching toward him, needing his hands on her to put out this fire, even knowing he would stoke it higher. “I can't,” she whispered, honestly, her voice hoarse with painful remorse.

His lips curved in a smile and he brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Yes, you can.” He threaded his hand into her hair and drew her down to him. “You just did.”

His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue plunging to twirl and dance. She let go of his shirt and curled her hands around the nape of his neck, clinging to him for a moment. Jessie looked into his eyes, seeing the same hunger and need she felt, and she pulled away from him, standing to stare down at him still seated on the couch. She allowed a seductive smile to spread over her lips, and she reached behind to unsnap her bra. She slowly slipped it over her arms before dropping it onto his lap. Arching her brow, she turned away, leaving him watching her add an extra saunter to her steps as she walked to the bedroom. She barely heard his agonized groan.

She looked over her shoulder at him as she reached the doorway. “Are you going to sit there all day?”

She turned toward him, just slightly, but enough that he could only see the curve of her breast. Nathan clenched his fists at his side. “I don't know about you, but I'm finished talking.

The look of primal desire in his eyes as he followed her into the bedroom, left no doubt that he wanted her. Nathan stepped behind her, one hand sliding over her flat stomach, pulling her against, him while the other moved to cup her breast. His lips found the back of her shoulder and her head fell to the one side with a sigh of pleasure.

Nathan laid her in the center of his bed before stretching out beside her, still fully clothed, his hips cradling her rear, her back pressed against his chest.

Jessie tried to turn toward him, but he kept his hand on her hip. “Trust me.” His fingertip trailed over her arm. “Close your eyes.” His lips found the hollow at the curve of her shoulder, tasting her, sending scorching shivers over her upper body.

Nathan moved his hands over the curve of her breast, gently, too gently, and she pressed herself into his hands, reaching for his wrists, intent on making him do what she wanted. He laughed quietly in her ear and deftly avoided her grasp.

“No, you don't. I'm going to enjoy every second of this. I want to watch those blue eyes of yours go dark because you want me. I want to see you as crazy as you make me feel.”

His lips tickled her shoulder, his scruff scraping her skin. She moaned in exquisite pain as he cupped her breast, his thumb and finger toying with the aching peak. His free hand followed the line of her hip to where she throbbed.

“Please.” She couldn't string together any other words, nothing else made sense. She only knew she needed him to touch her and now.

Nathan's fingers traced along the seam of her, over her underwear, and she cried out, her body bucking against him. She felt his lips spread into a smile against her skin, and she couldn't deny he could play her body like an instrument. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to be lost in the magic of his hands as he took her to new heights of sensation. Nathan's fingers disappeared far too quickly and she whimpered in protest as he moved her onto her stomach, his lips blazing a new trail down her spine.

One hand slid over her arc of her butt. “You have the most beautiful curves.” His tongue flicked out against her lower back and she gasped. “And the most adorable dimples right here.”

Every part of her body hummed with pleasure, blissful yet unsated. She wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against hers. And she didn't want to wait any longer, even if it meant she had to stop this sweet torture.

“Nathan?”

His fingers tickled the inside of her thigh as his lips found the back of her knee. She sucked in a breath again. “Hmmm?”

“You have too many clothes on,” she murmured.

He laughed and let her roll onto her back. She realized the folly in it when she met his hot gaze. His eyes were smoldering, hungry and intense. The stubble from the day's beard growth scraped against her thigh, and she bit her lower lip to keep from crying out at the delicious pain. Every look, every touch, was laced with electricity. He slid up her body, letting the material of his clothing create a glorious friction between them, before he stood and pulled her to her feet.

She tugged open the snaps of the western shirt she'd told him to purchase and slid her hands over his chest, pushing the shirt from his shoulders. Her hands fell over the ridges of his abs, her fingertips barely grazing them, as she reached for his belt. His hands caught hers, moving them back to his waist.

He didn't speak, but she could read the longing his eyes. He was barely holding himself together, and she felt the flutter of excitement take flight in her chest, knowing that she held the same ability to excite him to this uncontrollable urgency. She felt the rush of feminine power that her body brought him the same agonizing pleasure she was feeling. He slid his pants and boxers down his thighs. She was dying to touch him but before she could, he sat on the edge of the bed and drew her between his thighs, cupping her breast and taking it in his mouth.

Lights exploded behind her eyes, and she dropped her head backward, reveling at the storm that raged within her. Nathan's tongue swirled around the peaks, taking her higher, as his hand slid over her hip, pooling the last vestige of the barrier between them at her feet. His hands caressed, his mouth suckled, his tongue laved, and he pulled her into his lap until she was astride his hips again. His erection pressed at her opening, begging for entrance, but he wrapped his arms around her waist and refused to let her move. He buried his face against her neck and inhaled, his hands splayed over her spine, as if he simply wanted to hold her, to cherish her for a moment longer.

His breath was hot against her skin, and while she still ached to have him fill her, it ceased being a physical ache. She felt the emotional void she'd held close for so long cracking open and letting him in, begging him to fill it.

“Nathan?” She tipped her chin down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her hands curling around the back of his head. The two of them were twined, almost one. “I . . . ”

“Shh.” He cupped his hand behind her head and kissed her, deeply but with a tenderness she'd never thought she'd find with him again. Her heart splintered at his gentleness, his open vulnerability. “I need you, Jess. Like I've never needed anyone before. I had no idea how much until I saw you again. I'm so sorry . . . for everything that happened.”

His honest words filled her, caressing her soul. This was the apology she'd longed for, the words she'd waited eight years to hear. Her heart ached for what they should have had, all the time they lost. When his thumb brushed her cheek, she felt the tears on her face.

No! No, no, no! No crying!

She wasn't this woman anymore. She couldn't let him see her weak. She couldn't submit to this emotional side again. She'd never find all the pieces of herself again if she did.

She slid her hands to his shoulders, ready to push him onto his back. To take control again, to ride him and let the physical need carry her away from this place of exposure. But he wouldn't allow it.

“Don't, Jess,” he growled deep in his throat, and when he spoke again, his voice came in a husky whisper as he held her close. “I want
you
, remember?”

She didn't want to feel the emotional connection, didn't want to know this vulnerability he'd unearthed in her again. It was weakness, and weakness led to pain. But Nathan held her fast on his lap while his lips found her mouth, her throat, her breast. She cried out as he entered her slowly, knowing she wouldn't—couldn't—walk away from him now. Her body clutched at him, hungry for every inch, as he buried himself within her. She held onto him as he slowly rocked his hips, his hands worshiping her as his mouth ravished her.

Need built in her, coiling in her belly, but it couldn't compare to the emotions swirling in her. She could feel it inside, trying to break through the wall that kept her distanced. She dropped her head to his shoulder, feeling the barricade around her heart chipping with each kiss and every caress. She gasped against the sensations threatening to drown her like a monsoon.

She shouldn't allow herself to feel anything for him, not when he was leaving and unlikely to return. Not when he would leave nothing but the charred remains of her heart behind after their explosive desire passed. What was wrong with her? Where was her apathy when she needed it?

She leaned into him again, but this time he lay back on the bed. She wrapped her hands around his sides, gripping him as she rode him. Nathan reached for her hands, twining his fingers in hers and lifting his hands to the sides of his head, forcing her to fall forward toward him. He took her mouth hostage before cupping a hand at her back.

“Don't hide from me, Jess.” He moved his hips against her, and she gasped. “You need me as much as I need you.”

She could hear the hesitation in his voice. She realized he would stop right now if she wanted him to. He was putting her pleasure, her needs, both physical and emotional, before his own. It broke her. Tears burned in her eyes, and she couldn't stop them from falling against his face as he kissed her.

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