Alphas of Red Moon Ranch(60)
Jacob barely changed, but she swore she could see that amber hue flicker through his irises. Then, deliberately, he peeled back and stood up. Jacob walked around her, his boots clanking against the floor. Holly didn’t move—he hadn’t given her permission, after all. And he knew that. The realization: he was making her wait. He was claiming his territory. She could hear his boots come off, one after the other. Next, the rustle of his jacket, and then the slither of his belt. Her heart was pounding now, she was hot, too hot, and she could feel sweat drip between her swollen breasts. Holly shifted, just slightly, and her leg tingled, numb underneath her.
She could hear his bare feet pad along the floor. Away from her. She heard him make himself comfortable. She heard him walk into the kitchen, she heard the refrigerator door open, she heard him crack open a beer. A flush rushed up her neck. What was he waiting for? Was he waiting for her to crack?
Well. Two could play that game. She inhaled a deep breath through her nose, exhaled. She’d stay here all night if she had to. She knew he could smell how turned on she was, but that didn’t bother her. She also knew the effect that had on him, how it drove him wild.
“Jacob?” she said finally, breaking the silence.
She could almost feel his smug satisfaction, assuming this was the moment she would break down and beg. “Yes?”
“Can you please...turn off the stove? I don’t want to burn dinner.”
“Sure.” The bubbling mellowed into a low sizzle. “Smells good,” he said after a moment. “Why don’t you come here and serve it?”
That was her cue. “Yes, sir.” She stood and the feeling came rushing back to her legs. Pins and needles tingled down her calves—that she hadn’t accounted for—and the graceful, sensual composure she strived for was ruined by her loose-limbed wobble through the kitchen.
Holly stumbled straight into Jacob with a small yelp, and he caught her easily, hooking his arm around her middle. “You okay?” he asked and his eyebrows lifted, an amused smiled playing on his lips. His tone sounded concerned, but she heard: are you sure you’re up for this?
Holly gave his arm a light squeeze and straightened up, peeling off his (admittedly warm, solid, irresistible) chest. “I’m fine,” she said stubbornly and began plating the food.
“This looks too good to end up on the floor,” Jacob said and took the two plates once she’d filled them. “I’ll grab these. You just get your pretty self to the table.”
“Okay,” she said and followed in his wake, but not before taking his beer with her (she’d wanted to get it for him, after all, and was disappointed he’d beat her to the punch on that one). He set the two plates down on the table (Jacob at the head, Holly at his side) and she set his beer down beside him.
Just as Holly sat down, Jacob said, “What’re you doing?” The tone of his voice—like she should know better—made the hair on her arms stand up and Holly stilled. She looked over at him, owl-eyed and at a standstill.
There was that cocky grin. He was enjoying this too much, wasn’t he? He tapped his thigh and said, “C’mere.”
Holly did, obediently, and eased herself into his lap. Jacob reached around her and cut up a bit of salmon before saying, “Open your mouth.”
When she did, he fed her the bite, and then cut up a piece for himself. He took turns, feeding Holly, and then himself, a couple more times before Holly said, “This is for you, you know.”
“And you’re supposed to do what I want, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, maybe I want to spoil my queen a little.”
That sparked a new warmth in her, this one radiating from her heart, making it swell too large in his chest. How could one burly, rough-and-tumble man be so positively soft around the edges for her? She wanted to curl up in the heat of his body and stay there forever, safe. Loved. In their own private world.
He cut up another bite and reminded her, “Open.”
She did, this time leaning forward and pushing her hips back into his lap. She wiggled just enough to be rewarded by a light sigh in her ear. His cock was slowly but surely waking up underneath her and she made sure to sit back in just the right way to rub the curve of her ass against his long length.
His fork clinked against the plate. He made sure to clean off his dish and then hers before he finally set his utensils down. “How was your day?” he asked between bites.
“Good,” she said. She was trying to let him initiate and lead the conversation, but had to add, “I missed you.”
“How badly?”
“Terribly.” Another bite.