Jacquie D’Alessandro - In Over His Head

She could only pray he was ready to do the same.

Josh stood on Lexie's porch and took a deep, calming breath. Damn, he felt as nervous as a mouse wearing catnip perfume. Settle down. Everything's going to be fine.

But his mental pep talk did nothing to soothe his jangled nerves. Everything he wanted was inside this cozy house. And he was determined to have it. He just hoped the lady would agree.

If he'd been capable of laughter, he would have chuckled at himself. Even when facing the most ornery of bulls, he'd never felt this unsure or frightened. Well, he'd faced those bulls down. How much trouble could one small woman be?

Setting his jaw, he knocked. Seconds later Lexie opened the door, wearing a sultry smile.

And nothing else.

He actually felt his eyes bug out of his head. Good damn thing his jaw was attached to his head or else it would have hit the ground.

Reaching out, she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. Leaning back against the oak panel, she waggled her brows at him.

"Hiya, handsome."

He cleared his throat to locate his missing voice. "You're naked."

"Now that's what I like about you. Your superior powers of observation. Must come with the chemical engineer territory. But in this case you're wrong. I'm wearing cologne."

He shifted to relieve the strangulation occurring in the front of his jeans. "What if I'd been the mailman?"

"I knew it was you. I saw your car in the driveway." She erased the several feet between them with a sinful sway of her hips. When she stood directly in front of him, she walked her fingers up the front of his shirt, then pressed herself against him.

"Anytime you'd like to set down those grocery bags and give me a proper hello would be fine with me," she whispered against his neck.

The bags hit the tile. With a groan, he crushed her against him, fusing his lips to hers in a hot kiss that left them both breathless.

"I missed you all day," she whispered against his mouth while her fingers yanked open his shirt snaps. "Wanna know how much?"

"Yeah." The single word came out as a groan when she rubbed her breasts against his bared chest.

She turned them in a circle, until his back pressed against the door. His heart pounding, ragged breaths burning his lungs, he watched her sink to her knees. Slipping the button free on his jeans, she carefully eased down his zipper. He sucked in a breath of relief at the removal of the tight denim constricting him-a breath that was sharply cut off when she freed his erection and took him slowly into her mouth.

A long groan vibrated in his throat. Tunneling his fingers through her soft hair, he watched her pleasure him, absorbing the erotic sight of her lips gliding over him, the incredible feel of her tongue circling him.

His head dropped back, bumping against the door. It was too much, yet not enough. He couldn't take any more, yet his body craved, demanded more. More of her. Wrapped around him. Skin to skin. With a growl, he pulled her up, then turned her so she stood with her back braced against the door.

Quickly rolling on the condom from his back pocket, he cupped her buttocks in his palms and lifted her. She clasped her legs tightly around his hips and he slid into her wet heat. Sweat broke out on his brow and he gritted his teeth against the pleasure, wanting to sustain it, knowing he was helpless to do so.

"Do you suppose," she panted, her face flushed, eyes dark with need, "that someday you'll come over and we'll actually make it to the bedroom?"

"Not much chance of it if you open the door naked, sweetheart." He slid nearly all the way out, then glided deep, eliciting a purr of pleasure from her.

His orgasm was fast approaching, cutting off his ability to speak. He increased his tempo, reading her body with a knowledge born of many hours spent in sensual exploration. Seconds later she tightened around him and he let himself go, his release shuddering through him with a ferocity that left him barely able to remain standing.

A good minute passed before any sound save their choppy breathing filled the air. Finally he lifted his head from her fragrant neck and looked at her.

Her hair lay in frantic disarray, looking as if she'd been struck by lightning. Her skin glowed from the exertions of their lovemaking and her full lips were moist and slightly parted. Her eyes slid open and he found himself looking into slumberous hazel depths that sent a jolt straight to his heart.

A grin lifted one corner of her mouth. "I definitely think I should put a sofa in this foyer."

"Might be a good idea. Probably should think about one in the kitchen, too." He glanced down at the bags on the floor. "I think the eggs broke."

"What did you need them for?"

"I was hoping for an invite for breakfast."

"You're invited. And don't worry about the eggs." She shot him an exaggerated leer. "I'll have 'Josh over easy' for breakfast."

"Honey, you've already got 'Josh scrambled.' Seeing you open the door like this-" his hinds gently squeezed her bare butt "-I don't know if I'm comin' or goin'."

"Hmm. Well, tell you what. You feed us, then we'll 'go' to bed and I'll show you all about 'coming.'"

"Sounds like a plan. And I can vouch that you give good lessons, Miss Lexie."

She ran her finger over his bottom lip and adopted a prim, schoolmarmish expression that would have proved more convincing had she not been naked and still wrapped around his hips. "Of course I give good lessons. I am a teacher."

"That's perfect. 'Cause I'm more than willing to learn."

Lexie watched Josh all through dinner, and as the meal progressed, it became increasingly obvious that something was troubling him. He picked at his food and was uncharacteristically quiet. He caught the conversational ball when she tossed it, but he wasn't throwing out any first pitches. She knew he planned to talk to her about something-and she'd hoped that that something was good news. Good news about their future. Good news about a way they could work things out and be together. But his silence and the way he avoided her eyes made those hopes die a slow, withering death. A knot formed in her stomach, growing until she couldn't force down another bite. Finally she set down her fork.

"Josh, what's wrong?"

He looked up and met her gaze with a troubled expression, a fact that edged further unease down her spine.

"Nothing's wrong," he said. Setting aside his napkin, he added, "But we definitely need to talk."

Her stomach executed a maneuver that would have impressed even the most finicky of Olympic judges. Not just we need to talk but we DEFINITELY need to talk . The addition of that adverb did not bode well at all.

Forcing a lightness into her voice she was far from feeling, she said, "I'm listening."

"We've sort of avoided the subject, but we both know I'm scheduled to leave here soon. And… I've got to go."

Another stomach triple somersault. "Back to Manhattan."

He hesitated. "Not exactly. Although I will have to go there." Reaching across the table, he clasped her hands. She forced herself not to avert her gaze from the bad news she clearly read in his expression. Whatever he was about to say, she wasn't going to like it. Knew it wasn't we're going to be together.

"I've accepted an invitation to take part in a rodeo next month."

Nope. That definitely wasn't We're going to be together . Damn it, she hated it when she was right. His statement reverberated through her mind, the ramifications striking her like openhanded slaps. She swallowed to wet her throat and dislodge the lump that had settled there.

"You're coming out of retirement." Was that flat, lifeless voice hers? Yup, sure was. And here she sat, with the Michael Jordan of rodeo. Numbness crept into her limbs. How many times had Mike unretired himself now? Two? Three?