Tina Leonard - The Renegade Cowboy Returns

“Hell, yeah,” he said. “I’m a red-blooded man. There’s not a living guy on this planet who wouldn’t have at least grabbed a fast peek at that set you’ve got.” He raised his beer. “Believe me, the memory is as burned into my mind as that nude in there with the artfully placed peacock feathers. But in my defense,” Gage continued, “once I realized you’d had a swimsuit malfunction, I heroically did not look again. And I’m hoping for points for that, minus one or two if I tell the truth and admit I would have gone for another bug-eyed ogle if you’d lost your bottoms, as well. Polka dots are great, but I have a thing for freckles. I think I deserve hero points.”

Chelsea slipped her hand into his, the same hand that she’d thumped a moment ago. “I’m wondering if maybe you’d like more than points.”

He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. “More?”

“Yeah. Something to go along with the memory.”

She would regret this later. It was the champagne and the lightning and the erotic wall art working her over. Gage made a last-ditch attempt to throw them both on a pyre of sanity. “My memory’s pretty good,” he said. “Beautiful breasts tend to stay with me.”

She slid into his lap and put his hand on one of the breasts he’d thought about a hundred times. Maybe a thousand.

“Then again, touch is better than memory, as they say,” he said, carrying Chelsea to the peacock bed.

“Who says?” she asked, curling into his neck and placing small kisses there. His body hit horny overload.

He could not be this lucky.

“I say,” Gage said, and laid her on the mattress.

Chelsea thought she was going to die of the sexual attraction swamping her. A wild roller coaster of emotions threatened to overtake her senses—she knew that—but the fact was, once Gage kissed her on the lips, parting her mouth with his tongue, she was lost. And she was happy to be lost.

He was a man who wouldn’t stay in her life, wouldn’t want an entanglement. He was perfect.

“Are you sure?” he asked, running his hand under her blouse to her bra clasp.

“Positive,” she said, undoing his belt buckle.

“Changing your mind is allowed. Just say the word.”

He sounded worried, so she sneaked her hands around his muscled back and down into his jeans, kneading the skin, slowly moving to the front. He took off her bra, and she shimmied her jeans off, letting him make the final move with her string bikini underwear. Gage hesitated, his gaze on her in the flickering candlelight. And then, before she realized what he was going to do, he’d reached over and turned off the flashlight, blew out the candles and kissed his way down her stomach to her navel.

Gently, slowly, he removed her panties, kissing her there as thoroughly as he’d kissed her lips. She cried out, never imagining such pleasure existed, and when it seemed she couldn’t take anymore and grabbed his shoulders for the pleasure of it all, he rose and slowly sank inside her.

It hurt, God it hurt, and she swallowed the cry she nearly uttered.

“Are you okay?” Gage asked.

“Yes,” Chelsea whispered. But he knew anyway, because she was lying completely, rigidly still under him. So he rolled over and pulled her on top of him, holding her, and as the storm flashed light and fury through the windows, Chelsea knew she’d been right to wait for the only man of her impossible dreams.

* * *

“HOW ARE YOU DOING?” Gage asked, leaning over to kiss her lips about an hour later, after they’d dozed a little. Chelsea had stunned him. He’d never expected her to be a virgin. She was too pretty to have never had a boyfriend. Then he remembered that she’d mentioned she’d spent years taking care of her mother, and everything made sense.

“I’m fine,” Chelsea said. She nuzzled his neck. “I think I could be better, though.”

“Tell me how, doll.”

His voice sounded rough in the darkness, though he’d tried to keep the moment light. The last thing he wanted was for the electricity to come back on and her to be embarrassed by their lovemaking.

“Like this,” Chelsea said, moving on top of him.

His breath caught, and his body was instantly awake, roaring like a tiger. She was hot and tight and wet, and the crazy best part was that she wanted him.

Not half as much as he wanted Red right now. If she was game, he’d aim to please.

He grabbed another condom from his wallet on the nightstand.

“Come here, beautiful,” he said, kissing her, turning her onto her back and moving inside her. He hesitated, waiting for her to clench up again with pain, but when she didn’t, he began long, slow strokes to get her to the place he was already. At long last, he could tease her nipples, kiss them to his heart’s content. “Ever since I saw these, I wanted them,” he told her, his voice husky and tight like it hadn’t been since he was a teenager.

Chelsea moaned in response, reaching for what she didn’t know was out there, on the edge of pleasure. “Relax,” he whispered, “I’ve got you.” And moving inside her more swiftly, he listened for the sounds he needed to hear, letting him know he was pleasing her. When she suddenly went over the edge, crying out his name, Gage was startled. Burying his face in her neck, he said, “Chelsea, Chelsea,” over and over again like a drowning man, and when he felt her wetness washing over him, he let go, sinking into her accepting body, knowing somehow that everything he’d ever thought and ever wanted in life had just changed, miraculously, and completely beyond his control.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.