Bailey licked her lips. “This feels wicked,” she murmured.
“What does?”
She waved a hand. “Doing it outside in broad daylight.”
“All the better to see you with, my dear.”
“So that makes you the Big Bad Wolf?”
He grinned, shucking the pants but leaving the boxers for now. His sweater was far too warm, so he dispensed with it, as well. Bailey’s interested gaze studied him from head to toe and all points in between. Her unconcealed perusal aroused him even more, if that were possible.
“You could say that,” he said calmly. “I do have an inclination to gobble you up. Lift your fanny, woman.” He peeled her leggings down and off, exposing thighs and calves that were long and shapely. The black lace panties he revealed matched the bra that now lay nearby.
He shook his head, trying to dispel a rush of dizziness, possibly caused by all the blood that had traveled south.
Bailey bent one knee, placing her foot flat on the quilt. The new position was provocative to say the least. “You okay?”
He nodded, hands on his thighs. “I need a minute. Looking at you may give me a heart attack.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not kidding,” he insisted. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror? You’re a knockout, Bailey.”
“It’s the champagne talking. I may have to drive to Midland. I think you’re delusional.”
Trapping her thighs between his, he straddled her waist. The rocky ground beneath the quilt was hell on his knees, but the pain was a good thing if it kept him from rushing the moment. “Don’t argue with me. I’m always right.”
“You like to think so.”
“If I kiss you, will it shut you up?”
“Why don’t you try it and see?”
He crouched over her, stroking her curves with hands that trembled. Though the afternoon was plenty warm, small nipples pebbled at his touch. Despite her saucy bravado, he detected a hint of shyness even now. Her eyelids fluttered shut as he played with her breasts.
Her hips moved restlessly. He recognized the signs and felt the same urgency. “I want to make love to you,” he said, the words ragged and hoarse. He felt as if he could barely draw a breath.
As she lifted up on her elbows without warning, she brushed the underside of his erection. “Then we’re both going to get what we want.” Her smile was pure female mischief.
Wiggling her hips, she used one hand to remove her last tiny scrap of underwear. He stood and followed suit. Donning a condom, he dropped down beside her and splayed a hand on her belly. “You dazzle me,” he said roughly, with perfect truth. When he had fallen in love with his wife-to-be, he had been no more than a callow young man, hardly aware of the pitfalls that could loom in a relationship.
His marriage, or rather its failure, had almost broken him. When Sherrie ended her life, Gil had drowned in pain and guilt. During Cade’s brief lifetime, things had gradually improved, because Gil had willed it to be so. But he had been convinced deep down inside that he would never have another chance at love.
Yet without warning, Bailey Collins had burst into his life. First he had resented her. Then he had wanted her. And now...he could barely even describe to himself what it was that he was feeling.
Bailey smiled at him wistfully, her eyes dark, mysterious. Was she even a fraction as hungry as he was?
Her hand wrapped around his erection, moving gently up and down, her fingers circling the head of his shaft. “I will always be glad I came to Royal,” she whispered. Her voice broke on the last word.
“Don’t say that. Don’t write an epitaph before we’re done.”
Her eyes glittered with moisture. “Time’s running out, Gil. Come here and give us both what we need.”
He obeyed blindly, because joining his body with hers was what he wanted more than his next breath. Touching her gently, he felt the slick heat that signaled her readiness. He thrust slowly, closing his eyes at the sensation of rightness. Somehow he had to make this new turn in his life work. Somehow...
The sun moved inexorably in the sky. Already the rays burned his back, the patch of shade shrinking. Each of his senses was painfully heightened. Bailey’s skin was soft and warm everywhere he touched. The sound of their breathing mingled and floated away on the breeze. He smelled the fragrance of her perfume and the scent of his own sweat.
He withdrew briefly, though it cost him. Lightly, he teased the tiny spot that gave her the most pleasure. Her back arched off the quilt and she cried out as she climaxed, her body beautiful in its sensual abandon.
Before the last ripple of her orgasm faded, he entered her again, this time with far less finesse. Wildly he took her, over and over, until he felt a scalding rush of heat that ripped through his gut and drew a harsh shout from his parched throat at the end as he came endlessly, his head buried in the curve of her neck.