A switch flipped. The concerned father-to-be stepped aside to make way for the primitive mate she craved. Dispensing with his jeans and briefs, he crawled into bed fully aroused and focused. Didn’t take much to awaken those instincts.
From the beginning, she’d had forever written all over her. One night stand? A wedding weekend fling? Bull. She was the woman he’d waited for and he was the man she needed. The baby they’d conceived proved it.
A hand at her shoulder, her pushed her to her back—not shoving, just taking charge. Moving over her, he yanked down the top of her outfit, exposing her lush breasts. And oh, how he feasted, satisfying the needs of his hungry mouth with nipping, licking and sucking all that bounty until she writhed and panted beneath him.
Bunching the nightgown at her waist, he reached between her thighs and made her come, and come hard. She was still in the grip of her orgasm when he plunged his cock into her undulating channel.
Bending her knees back, he created a rhythm and an angle guaranteed to make her come again. When she did, he slowed the pace, settled onto his braced forearms, and took stock.
Her nightgown had become no more than a sash gathered at her waist. Technically she still wore it, but it was useless as a covering.
Flushed and breathless, she met his gaze.
He continued to stroke as her body gradually quieted. “Ravished, yet?”
Her breath hitched. “Thoroughly.”
“That was fun.” He smiled. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.” He glanced at the wadded-up material. “Unless I’ve ruined your—”
“It’s sturdy material.”
“Good, because I like it.”
“You didn’t come.”
“Not yet. I had to finish the ravishing. Takes concentration.”
“You did a great job.”
“Figured that. You made a lot of noise.”
“Did I?”
“Seemed like a good sign that you were loud. FYI, I won’t hold you to any of those promises you made.”
“Promises?”
“When you were coming the first time. And the second, too, now that I think about it. You promised to have sex with me whenever and wherever I wanted.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Like I said, I won’t hold you to it.”
She stroked his sweaty back and slid her hands down to his glutes. “You can for the next three days.”
Sobering. Three days wasn’t much time. “Then I will.” Leaning down, he kissed her to seal the deal. But lots of sex might not be enough to persuade her he was the one. He’d have to come up with more than that.
For now, he’d work with what he had. Disengaging from her sweet body, he grabbed a pillow from the far side of the bed. “Lift your hips.” He tucked the pillow under her and returned his needy cock to its happy place.
Her breath caught. “Nice.”
“I hoped you’d like it. You’re welcome to grab my ass again.”
She took him up on that suggestion. “Turns me on to feel your muscles working.”
“Good.” His gaze locked with hers as he moved deliberately, stroking her G-spot, making each thrust count. “Ravishing’s over.”
“I know.” Her voice was soft. “We’re making love.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He kept the pace steady, letting her catch up while he held back.
Then she was there. Her eyes darkened and her fingers dug in, pulling him deeper, rising to meet him, gasping his name. Sweet, sweet sound.
When she cried out, he buried his cock to the hilt in her quivering channel and let go. His ears rang as the pulsing of his release merged with hers.
Beautiful.
Chapter Twenty
Isabel woke when the door to her cabin clicked shut. She jumped out of bed, the black nightgown still wrapped around her waist. Couldn’t go to the door like that.
As she wrestled with the slippery material, CJ crossed the porch and descended the steps, his footsteps light for such a big guy. She hurried to the window and moved the curtain to peek out. Maybe he’d look back and she could get his attention.
Nope. His ground-eating strides took him rapidly away from her. He followed the curve of the access road. Gone.
With a sigh of regret, she let go of the curtain, pulled off her nightgown and headed for the shower. He must have taken great care not to wake her when he’d left the bed and dressed. Evidently he valued her sleep over telling her goodbye.
Next time she saw him she’d let him know she preferred a goodbye, and maybe a kiss to go with it. His choice was understandable after Sarah had advised him about the sleep needs of pregnant women. But this situation wasn’t anything like Sarah and John’s. They lived together and saw each other constantly.
She and CJ had to create a plan for getting together. Because he’d left without waking her, they didn’t have one. What was his work schedule? When was his lunch hour? Did he get breaks during…wait, what was she doing?
Swearing softly, she derailed the crazy train and stepped under the welcome spray of a hot shower. Her frantic desire to see him didn’t bode well for her long-distance parenting decision. She needed to calm the hell down.
Besides, he hadn’t hopped a plane to Paris. He lived on this ranch. He had a cell phone. She had one, too. They could discuss the day’s activities via text.
And speaking of her cell phone, she might want to charge it because—guess what?—she had a roaster issue going on in Seattle. Why hadn’t she focused on that first thing this morning?
Naomi had been right about CJ. He’d totally distracted her. Connecting with him had been her top priority when she’d opened her eyes.
Quickly finishing her shower, she blotted her damp hair with the towel before wrapping it around her and padding back to the table by the front window. She’d put her phone on it before going to the barn with CJ.
It was still there. She’d gone right past it, oblivious, desperate to catch CJ before he left. She picked it up. No messages from Naomi on the screen. But a message was scrawled
