Leanne Banks - Flirting with Fortune

“I’ll be getting there, darlin’, don’t you worry.”

When his mouth reached the V of her shirt and his tongue made contact with the hollow of her throat, she gasped.

He’d never seen a woman keep herself so covered up. But Jude had to admit it was enticing. He couldn’t wait to catch his first glimpse of the curves underneath all that fabric.

His hand slid up to cover her high firm breast, teasing the nipple through the thin cotton of the shirt. Her breath caught then released with an involuntary sound.

As he continued to lift, support and stroke her yielding flesh with his fingers, he closed his lips over hers, softly at first then slowly increasing the pressure. Soon he found himself kissing her as if she was water and he’d been in a desert. Which, in a way, was true.

Before her, there had been nothing. She filled him in a way no other woman had done. This was his future wife in his arms.

Her body hummed beneath his touch. The surprised wonder in her eyes when he hit a sensitive spot told him she didn’t have a lot of experience. This was fine with him. But it meant he needed to go slow.

Going slow became increasingly difficult. The taste of her aroused him. Hunger struck against equal hunger, creating fire. As they continued to kiss, as he caressed her, the fire became an inferno. He cupped her and she whimpered, pressing up against his hand.

If Jude was only thinking of himself, he’d take the blanket off his saddle roll, shuck his clothes—and hers—and be rolling around on the ground in seconds. But he wanted the first time they made love to be special.

She melted against him, allowing his tongue to slip inside, just as he wanted to slip inside her.

As if reading his mind, she shifted slightly, opening her stance. They came together perfectly—two halves finally made whole—only separated by clothing.

When she began to shimmy against him, Jude had to fight to hold on to control.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Her throaty cries made his blood burn hot.

Up. Down.

He envisioned her—wet, slick and ready beneath the denim.

Her breath came in little moans. Or were those sounds from his own throat? Could a man die from raw need? At the moment it seemed highly probable.

The sun burned hot overhead but Jude barely noticed. All he knew was Gabi and the feel of her soft body against the hard length of him.

Tension filled every muscle. He couldn’t get enough of her. He dug his fingers into her hips and increased the rhythm. Faster. Her frantic response urged him faster still.

She strained toward him, reaching, needing, wanting.

Seconds later, her body convulsed in release. She cried out, pressing hard against him, her eyes going blind. Still he continued. Up. Down. Slowly now—gentling the contact until the last bit of pleasure had been wrung from her body.

Until she went limp and collapsed in his arms with a shudder.

* * *

Once Gabi’s brain became capable of forming a coherent thought, she realized anything she’d experienced before had only been a pale imitation of the real thing. She hadn’t even gotten naked yet, but she’d experienced more passion and felt more satisfaction than she ever had before.

While Gabi had enjoyed her previous sexual encounters, she’d never been swept away in the moment. Yet, only a few seconds earlier, she’d been willing to do anything to ensure Jude kept touching her, kissing her.

She now stood cosseted in his arms, sated and content. A slight breeze ruffled her hair as she rested her head against his chest and listened to the comforting beat of his heart.

Gabi inhaled deeply. She loved the way he smelled—a woodsy mixture of cologne and soap and maleness that kept heat percolating low in her belly.

Jude’s lips brushed the top of her head. “You,” he said, “are amazing.”

The feeling beneath his gentle tone and the answering emotion it aroused sent red flags popping up. How could she feel so close to a man she barely knew? Things were moving too fast and in a direction she couldn’t afford to go.

If it was only the physical aspect drawing her to Jude, she’d be safe. But Jude Fortune Jones was the total package. Which was why it made sense to put a little distance between them. But when Gabi moved slightly back, he tugged her close.

Her fingers itched to reach between them, unzip his jeans and give him all the pleasure he’d so generously given to her. Then round two could begin, only this time sans clothing.

The mere thought of his talented fingers and mouth on her bare skin sent anticipation coursing up her spine and heat pooling between her thighs.

She’d let it go this far. What would be wrong with taking it all the way?

Yet, even as temptation beckoned, there were things they needed to settle first. She could be Jude’s friend and even entertain the possibility of a friends-with-benefits relationship while she was in Horseback Hollow.

But she couldn’t become involved in a serious relationship or plan a life with him. Not with her future so tenuous.

She’d witnessed firsthand the toll that losing her mom had taken on her father. It wouldn’t be fair to fall in love, marry and knowingly put a man she loved in that same situation.

Though Gabi had done well since her surgery, she knew that could change without warning. She’d seen that happen with Mary and Kate, a couple of her transplant buddies.

While she may have told her father she was “all better” and didn’t have a “condition,” she knew she’d always be a heart patient. She’d always be on antirejection medication. And she’d always be at an increased risk of a health crisis that could take her life.

Of course, she might be making a big deal over nothing. Not all men who pursued a woman did it with a serious relationship or marriage in mind. If Jude was indeed a man who “liked the ladies,” a few weeks of fun and sex before she returned to Florida could be all he was after.

If she knew that was his mindset, Gabi would rip off his clothes and have her way with him right now. Even the knowledge that the cows would get an eyeful wouldn’t slow her down.

But what was going through his head was a mystery, so Gabi determinedly stepped from his arms and pretended sudden interest in straightening her clothing.

When she looked up, his blue eyes, so often filled with good humor, reminded her of a stormy windswept sea. The expression on his face was serious as his eyes searched hers. “Are we good?”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize he wanted to know if their momentary interlude had screwed things up between them.

Easy-breezy, she told herself and smiled. “Stellar.”

The tenseness eased from his shoulders, but a hint of worry remained in his eyes.

“The air between us was hot enough to combust.” Jude shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I hadn’t planned—”

“On a make-out session in front of the bovines?”

Jude laughed then cocked his head. “We could take it to the next level and really give them something to look at this time.”

His wicked smile tempted, but she shook her head.

“You have to check on the fence,” she reminded him, keeping her tone light, fighting for casual. “Besides, I’m in the mood to ride.”

It sounded plausible. Practical. Believable.

If she could have kept her eyes from straying to the bulge below his belt buckle. If her breath hadn’t hitched.

She heard him chuckle, jerked her head up.

The stormy eyes now held laughter and what she recognized as the hot glint of desire.

“A horse.” She moved quickly to Sweet Betsy’s side even as the image of her riding him painted bold, fiery strokes across her brain. “I want to ride a horse.”