Jodi Thomas - Give Me A Texan

Kaira circled Quin’s neck with her arms, inching her fingers into his tousled black hair. The smell of musk lingered. Quin’s breathing was rough, ragged as he moved to trail a ribbon of kisses along her throat and slipped his hands under her skirt, finding her warm, delicate thighs and hips. A vision only in his memories. Her bosom was crushed against his chest, her soft curves molded to his heated, aching body.

She answered the demands of his lips but wanted more, all of him. Desiring to touch him freely, she whispered, “Do you think we have time to make love?”

“I don’t know, let me check my watch.” He pretended to reach in his pocket.

Kaira caught him hand. “Not now you don’t.”

Quin angel-kissed her nose. “To answer your question, until now, making love to you never crossed my mind.”

“Liar.” Kaira unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, until his chest was fully exposed. “Don’t forget we have a newspaper to get out.” Burying her face in his chest, she breathed a kiss there.

“Hush.” Quin eased his hand from beneath her skirt, and lifted her head to where they were eye to eye. “I’ve got most of the work done. Monk can finish it. If you think you can behave yourself until Sunday, maybe Reverend Hicks can marry us right after my godson’s christening.”

“Quin, I want to be part of your life, and promise to make the hurt go away.” Her vow was sealed with a kiss.

“Don’t ever make it go away, sweetheart. I hurt so good right now that I don’t know what to do.” Sweetly draining all her doubts and fears, he kissed her again, until her body began to vibrate with liquid fire. “Just keep it up. Keep making me hurt this way.”

And she did, until dawn approached when Quin fell asleep in the big four-poster bed upstairs, holding Kaira.

Curled into the curve of his arm, she felt the velvety lace of the comforter they laid on. She pulled Quin’s mother’s quilt up to his chest and snuggled deeper against his side.

Kissing him good night, she whispered, “Sleep tight, my cowboy. I promise we’ll get the newspaper out to the folks of Amarillo by morning, and still make plenty of time for love.”