It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3) (20 page)

He brushed her hair back and suckled kisses down her neck to her shoulder, hitting that perfect spot where they connected. His callused fingers massaged the tender skin at the small of her back. “We’ll figure something out.” His warm, wet breath made a shudder race through her.

“What I said earlier, about picking you because you wouldn’t tell anybody, that wasn’t the only reason. I wanted you to be my first because you’re the only man I’ve ever . . .”

A strange thud beat against her chest. For a second she wanted to say he was the only man she’d ever loved.

The purple in his eyes flared, and he seemed to hold his breath.

“Why me, Miranda?” He sank his teeth gently into the soft flesh of her neck with just the slightest pressure. Her mind blanked, and her knees turned soft.

The full force of her weight was completely in his hands and against his hard body.

“Hmm?” she asked, her head tilting back to give his hungry mouth a better taste.

He pulled his hand from her backside and found the spot between her thighs that was screaming for his attention. The silk material between his fingers and her flesh created just enough friction to drive her to the brink. He increased the pressure with each stroke, and she angled her knee out to give him better access. He suckled the nook of her neck where his teeth had just been. “Why not someone else? Tell me.”

She sobered. Drew back just enough so that their noses brushed and their heartbeats mingled. Her head tilted back, she stared deep into his silver-blue eyes, the color and the emotion there mesmerizing her into a near-trance.

She gave him a deep, soft kiss. One that she hoped communicated every bit of emotion she was feeling right then. Then she said, “Because you were the guy who would never expect me to
get it on
in your truck, even when I wanted to.”

On her tippy toes, she pressed her lips to his again, giving him more of the tenderness that she felt all the way to her soul.

Miranda’s sweet kiss against his hungry mouth communicated a clear message. She was his. And he wasn’t going to let her go again. He engulfed her in his arms, molding her softness against him. It was time to finish what they’d started seven years ago. What they’d been circling around since he’d been back in Red River.

Even with him leaning against the doorframe, he was still a head taller than her, so he dipped his knees to trail greedy kisses across her cheek to her ear. Her breath whispered across his neck and made his skin prickle with need. The warmth of her leaning against him flooded through his limbs and made his pulse sing like Bob Seger.

At the thought of her performance, a smile started on his lips, encircled his heart, and spread all the way to his . . .

She pressed her hips into his, and the heat in that particular area turned to a raging storm of desire. He caressed one palm down her back and over her bottom to cradle the soft flesh in the palm of his hand. The soft, feminine contours of her full breasts pressed into his chest, her thighs brushed against his, the length of her pulsing body molded and melted into his, and a deep, satisfied sigh escaped him as she settled into his embrace.

He took her mouth with his. Gentle, but firm enough to control the kiss.

Jesus, even her lips were a perfect contrast to his. Their plump softness, a wicked pleasure like the feel of expensive and forbidden animal fur against bare skin.

Delicious and decadent.

With a flick of his tongue against her lips, they parted for him. He slipped through to find hers.

Her hands slipped inside his jacket and glided over his bare flesh. Ah, the spoils of giving the lady his shirt. Her hands weren’t as soft as most women he knew, because Miranda was used to manual labor, but still softer than his. They slid over his torso, leaving a trail of blazing desire in their wake. His muscles twitched and hardened as she explored his chest and then dropped her hands to his stomach and waist, like she was committing every inch to memory.

Like it would never happen again, so she wanted to make the most of it while she could.

His heart squeezed, and he deepened the kiss. Threaded his fingers into her hair and cradled her against him to show her this wasn’t just casual sex for him. It meant something. It meant more than she could probably imagine.

Her mouth against his, their bodies flush, it was so sensual, so luxurious that he didn’t want it to end. He ran his hand up her length and felt a shiver of delight pass through her. He smiled against her mouth and framed her face with both hands to kiss her as deeply and affectionately as he knew how.

She whimpered out her approval and slid a foot up the side of his leg.

He broke the kiss. “Damn, woman. Do you know what you do to me?”

She pressed a soft kiss to his neck and nuzzled her nose just below his ear. “Let’s go to my room.”

He shook his head. “No.”

She tensed and pulled back to look at him, her expression communicating her fear of rejection.

He ran gentle fingertips across the line of her silky smooth jaw to soothe her doubts. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded, but the delicate feel of her against his fingertips sure as hell soothed him. “We’re going to the honeymoon suite.”

Her features relaxed, and a stir of sexual energy seemed to surge through her and jump from her pulsing body into his. With a swift movement, he ran both hands down her arms to her ass and lifted her off the ground.

She squeaked and laced her arms around his neck.

“Put your legs around me,” he said and pushed off the doorframe to straighten.

Both of her ankles clamped to his backside. He carried her up the stairs. Tried to consume her with a kiss so hot and searing that the spot between her legs pulsed against his belly just above his jeans, and he wanted to be inside her so badly it hurt. A minor problem, because he was about to shuck his pants and make love to her all night. Maybe let her sleep for a few hours, then wake her up just before dawn to do the same thing all over again.

The crazy thing about making love to a woman who had just finished playing the air guitar was that he wanted it to be just as fast and just as furious as her performance.

He doubted he’d ever again see anything cuter or sexier than Miranda sailing through the air in the half-splits with a poker in her hands. But no. The same woman who’d entertained him with a moonwalk dressed in nothing but a bra that didn’t quite match the panties because of the red cranberry stain, a pair of socks scrunched at the ankles, and his shirt, unbuttoned and flapping as she’d gyrated around the room, had also confessed why she’d allowed him to be her first lover.

After such a bold unveiling of her heart, he didn’t want this time to be just a tumble in the sack or a quickie against the wall. Not that he would mind that in the future. But not tonight. Tonight was the beginning of something new with Miranda. They could work something out. What, he wasn’t exactly sure yet.

He took the stairs as fast as his legs would carry both of them. The sweet scent of her—subtle perfume mixed with a remnant of cranberry—the way she melted into him with such intimate ease, the feel of her thundering heart beating in rhythm with his, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to let her go. And why should he?

Why
would
he?

They reached the second-floor landing, the old wood creaking. He had every loose board on that staircase memorized from his childhood, and he remembered every step of the same journey he’d taken up those stairs with Miranda seven years ago. He turned left toward the honeymoon suite. The one night they’d shared together was the best of his life. She hadn’t warned him that it was her first time, and the shock that had rippled through him when he realized had made him freeze up for a moment. What happened afterward when they went back to the reception had turned the evening into a nightmare.

Not tonight.

Tonight was all for her. And there would be many more nights just like this if he had anything to say about it. Unfortunately, she had a habit of not letting him finish whatever he was trying to say. But maybe after tonight, he could change that.

Miranda slid down Talmadge’s hard body until her toes touched the floor, and she tilted her head back to stare up into his metallic blue eyes. A chill of anticipation coursed through her and she shivered. And not just a little shiver. It was more like an earthquake.

He stared back, those unique eyes glazed with lust. For her. This time it wasn’t just her throwing herself at him.

She was about to do this. With Talmadge Oaks. Again. Her long sex sabbatical had made her as nutty as a pecan orchard, because she was scared. She hadn’t done this in . . . well, seven years. Seven years, three months, and twenty-nine days.

He laid another panty-dropping kiss on her. The man’s lips were pure genius. His hands weren’t bad either because they were currently slipping inside her panties and flexing into her flesh. Caressing and massaging until she moaned.

He bent to suckle her neck, smiling against her prickling skin.

A whole different kind of fear seized her, and she pushed at his chest. “Um, I don’t have any protection. I mean . . . I don’t usually . . .”

He shut her up with a kiss. This one wasn’t just a panty-dropper. It melted her yellow polka dots right off. Gripping her shirt . . . well, his shirt . . . with his fists, he pulled her into him.

He released her mouth, giving her nose a teasing graze with his. “I’ve got it covered.”

“Oh.” Of course he did. He probably needed to be prepared. Often. Unlike her.

And then his lips brushed across hers and her insides went all soft and gooey right along with her knees. He slid a strong arm around her waist to steady her as another brush with his lips coaxed her mouth open. Her eyes fluttered shut when he feathered tender kisses down her neck. The touch of his lips against her skin was so sweet, so deep with emotion, so generously loving that Miranda didn’t think her heart could contain another ounce of emotion for this man.

Her eyes flew open, and she stared at the old brass light fixture overhead that hung in shadowy darkness. He trailed kisses up to her ear and suckled her earlobe. She swallowed.

She loved him. She was in love with Talmadge Oaks and had been for seven years, three months, and twenty-nine days. And if she didn’t know better she’d think that he loved her too, by the way he was showing it with his gentle hands and generous mouth.

Of course she didn’t have anyone else to compare it to, so what did she know?

“You’re thinking too much.” Talmadge’s voice was hoarse with desire, and his words whispered across her ear, sending a shiver lancing all the way through her. Even her scalp prickled. He backed her toward the antique four-poster bed. “I can almost hear the wheels turning inside that stubborn head of yours.”

She stopped his advance and stared up at him with an eyebrow firmly raised. “Did you just insult my head?”

He ignored her and tugged on her ear with his teeth.

She cleared her throat.

Both of his hands threaded into her hair and he cradled her head in his large palms. “It wasn’t an insult, but you’re the stubbornest woman I know.” His mouth found hers and issued a languid, lush kiss. “You’re also one of the smartest.” Another slow, sweet kiss. “And definitely the most beautiful.”

“Oh. Okay then,” she panted out.

When his mouth found hers again, she kissed him back with the same careful ease, matching the rhythm of his mouth and his tongue to perfection. It was so precious, so pure, so utterly delicious that Miranda’s world tilted off balance. With his hands still anchored in her hair, he leaned her head a bit to one side and angled his mouth fully against hers, deepening the kiss to mind-melting intensity.

Her hands slid under his jacket and found his contoured chest. His muscles jumped and twitched under her touch, and his smooth but hard flesh heated as she explored the hills and valleys of his perfectly formed body.

Good God, he was perfect. So perfect it was almost painful.

A heavy sigh of pleasure skipped through her lips, and his hold on her tightened. So did the pressure of his mouth on hers. And he took his sweet time exploring her mouth with his tongue and her body with his hands. Like a blueprint that he was trying to read. Trying to understand and discover where all the most sensitive spots were so he could pay careful attention to those before moving on to others.