shameless whimper for more.
“Good?”
“Just this,” she repeated, absolutely breathless. “Just this. No talking, nothing more. Promise.”
“I never make promises I can’t keep.” One of her straps had slipped over her shoulder again. With a nudge from him, the other fell as well, leaving the cotton just skimming across the top of her nearly exposed breasts.
“I shouldn’t be here.” But she wanted to be, oh, how she wanted to be. She wanted to be in his arms, lost in his touch, in his kisses. She wanted him to make her forget all the impossibilities between them. “Let go of my hands.”
“Why? So you can put the rest of the cake in my face?” But he did let her go, and she concentrated on his shirt, pulling it from his jeans, unbuttoning it to expose his broad, smooth chest.
“I’ve never had fattening sex before,” she said, taking another fingerful of frosting and spreading it across him, down his belly. He had the most amazing stomach, she thought, loving how it quivered when she touched him. Then she dropped to her knees and began kissing it off one little nibble at a time.
“Not fattening
“You’re determined to make this complicated,” she said lightly, gasping when he hauled her to her feet, lifting her so that she sat on the counter.
Her skirt, a gauzy, weightless thing, was easily bunched in his hands and pushed up her thighs, which he opened to step between. “Say it,” he demanded. “That you’re giving yourself to me because it’s right, because it’s inevitable, because what we have can’t be ignored or shoved into any category so simple as just sex. Say we’re doing this because you’re giving yourself to me, not because I’m taking, because-”
“Yes,” she whispered, giving in to his glittering eyes, to the need tightening his body, to everything. To all of it.
“Yes, what?”
“You’re going to make me say it?”
“Oh, yeah.” He rocked his hips toward hers and her breath caught. “You’ve got to say it.” His hand stroked up her ribs to her breast. His thumb rasped over her nipple, then again. “I’ve got to hear it.”
“Do you-” Her entire being was centered around what he was doing to her. “Do you always talk so much while you’re doing this?”
He let out a low laugh, which turned into a groan when she pressed her breast into his hand. “Just with you apparently. Tell me, Holly, and I promise you, I’ll find something better to do with my mouth.”
“A promise?”
“One I can most definitely keep.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t help but acquiesce. “We’re making love because I can’t help it. When I’m with you I lose brain capacity at an alarming speed.”
Another low laugh. “Me, too.”
It was the most arousing thing, laughing while being intimate. She’d never done both at the same time before.
She liked it.
“More words,” he demanded.
“I thought you said you’d find something else to do with your mouth- Oh my,” she whispered as he did just that.
“I’ll keep my mouth busy, you use yours to talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me more.”
“Um…okay.” That she could speak at all was shocking. Always in the past, being with someone like him had been about power.
What she was doing now, what he was doing to her, had nothing to do with power at all.
Yet another shock for her awakening heart to absorb. “We’re making love because I want you,” she admitted. “I have to have you.”
“Yes.” And true to his word, he continued to find better uses for his mouth, starting with her neck, kissing it with the most arousing hot, openmouthed kisses, eating off the frosting as he went. His hands slipped beneath her, snugging her up to the most impressive erection she’d ever felt.
“You’re…big.” She wasn’t sure whether she was speaking in wonder or fear.
With a laughing groan, Riley set his forehead to hers. “That’s sort of the idea.”
“How do you know you’ll fit?”
“Oh, I’ll fit,” he assured her, lifting his head to nip at her lower lip.
She lost more brain cells. “Another promise?”
“Two in a row.” He moved against her again and they both moaned. “A personal record for me.”
“I threw away your condoms.”
“I bought more.”
“Okay. Good.” She bit his neck.
His breathing was uneven and his body was so hard against hers. She set her cheek to his sticky chest. “I don’t know what it all means, Riley. I don’t know.”
“We don’t have to know now, it’ll come.”
He was right. They didn’t have to make any decisions right this minute except for where to put their mouths, their fingers, their bodies. It all seemed so necessary, so right; the heat, the desire, the beginning of feelings too terrifying to put into words. She brushed her mouth over his chest, eating more frosting, pushing at his shirt until it fell to the floor.
He tugged on hers. Her breasts popped free, fully exposing her to his gaze. Fueled by the shaky glide of his hands on her, she moved restlessly against him, slipping her hands inside his jeans, releasing him.
Untaming him.
“Riley,” she breathed, needing, aching, yearning. “Please.”
“Yes. Now.” He pushed her skirt above her waist, and skimmed her panties off to cup her, sliding his fingers into her wet heat and softly stroking until she thrust her hips at him helplessly, until she was shuddering, shuddering, falling apart in his hands, hands he slid beneath her to bring her closer to him.
And then he was opening that new condom, filling her, inch by incredible hot inch. In no time he had her so full she thought she might burst, had her at the cliff ready to plunge, but he held her off, to almost beyond what she thought she could bear. Then he bent close, holding her gaze, whispering her name in a voice filled with awe, and she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t hold back, and she shattered again.
She wasn’t alone this time. As she held on for dear life, completely lost in his arms, he lost himself, too, in her.
Frosting dripped off them to the floor.
10
THE NEXT DAY Riley found out about the offer on the cafe. He got the news through the grapevine, not an unusual occurrence in town since the grapevine often had more news than the local newspaper.
Which ironically enough, came out that very morning with a nice spread on Cafe Nirvana. The article touted both Holly and her innovative family-style serving, and Dora’s wonderful home cooking.
There was a nice picture of the front of the cafe, and another of the newly decorated interior, with a smiling Dora holding a tin of fresh bread and Holly holding a pitcher of ice water. In the background a group of grinning customers held up their empty water glasses-all except Dan, who was pretending to cower back, covering his lap with his hands.
Riley looked down into Holly’s smiling face and felt the now familiar but no less unnerving feeling of drowning in those eyes, in her smile, her heart.
And after last night, he was sure she felt the same way.
Or pretty sure.
It was late morning now. Due to an altercation between two neighboring ranchers-who were fighting over a
