Just Fooling Around(40)

5




CHANCE TANGLED one hand through the heavy fall of her hair, wondering what fool had invented a braid. It was an instrument of torture to deprive mankind of something this…lovely.

Her hair was the color of the Badlands in the afternoon sun: sand and fire and light and shadows. And soft like silk over his fingers.

His thumb pressed against her lower lip, watching the dazed awareness in her warm brown eyes, feeling the raging want inside him, and he struggled to keep the brakes on, because this one was different.

Oh, sure, he needed to kiss her, he ached to kiss her, and his cock was ready for long past kissing, but he wasn’t sure how to start, or where to start. He’d seen lots of naked women, and as a rule, tits, mouths and legs didn’t throw him off…until now.

But holy shit, she, of the Rapunzel hair, of the Craftsman toolbox, of the gorgeous breasts…

He was saved from puzzling out exactly how to first touch Devon Franklin because those breasts were soon pressed shamelessly against him. She kissed his mouth, and stole his breath. Chance wrapped his arms around her, trying not to break her, trying not to damage her with the metal on his ankle, but his hands weren’t as gentle as he wanted them to be.

The long line of her spine, the soft pleasure of her skin, and oh, hell…the hot brand of her nipples against his chest.

His hands slipped lower, curved his palms around her ass, pushing her into him. Sweet heaven, his cock honed between her legs like it were custom-made to be there.

Not that she seemed to notice. Her fingers dug into his damp T-shirt, yanked it over his head and then she curled her arms around his neck, kissing him once again. Hot damn, the woman could kiss. Her mouth was greedy and hungry, as if she hadn’t gotten laid in eighty years, and Chance didn’t understand what was wrong with the men of this no-account town because if he lived here, he’d be all over her, two, three, ten times a day.

He wanted to climb inside her, those soft pliable legs curving around him…his cock jerked enthusiastically and he knew that was a bad sign. If her tongue wasn’t quite so erotic, creating these colorful pictures of him inside her, surrounding him, her body moving just as erotically as her tongue….

Needing to throttle back to somewhere in-control, Chance broke free from the kiss, took a step back, letting his attention wander to her breasts, which had intrigued him since pretty much the first time she opened the door.

For a woman of such a practical mind, she had exceptional breasts, rounded and glowing rosy. Fascinated, he brushed his thumbs across the twin peaks, and Devon shuddered, her dazed face a picture of woman-in-want. It was a glorious look, her normally lucid eyes staring at him as if he were the only man in the world.

It was an awe-inspiring responsibility. Determined to live up to her high expectations, he lowered his head, and took one nipple into his mouth, drawing long and hard, until her hands tangled in his hair. She began to whisper things to him. Words such as liability and sustainability and binders and survivorship, which on their own would have bored him to tears, but when coupled with sexual organs nearly cooked his munitions right then and there.

His jeans and jockeys were shucked in world-record time, and he dragged her back to him, ready to…

No, he told himself.

“Devon,” he whispered, “honey, we’re going to have to slow down if you’re to have an enjoyable experience with this. As a man, I’m pretty well guaranteed to hit the brass ring, but if you don’t—”

She pushed him down on her bed, rising over him, and the dim light cast golden shadows on her and her dark hair falling around her.

Her eyes were so sexy and sleepy, and he watched her teeth worry her lip. Doubt, concern. Obviously, she was not a woman who gave herself up to the carnal side of life. He had expected that, but hadn’t fully expected the incredible emotional distress that his cock currently was experiencing at the idea that she might worry herself to the point of stopping this.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I should warn you.”

Oh, those were vile words. Disappointment struck at his heart, his gut, and other vital organs. She was married. That had to be it. There were ethical, moral lines that he did not cross, and he was rather proud of his more honorable nature. But to be fair, he’d never had a nearly naked married woman straddling his completely naked body and what had been firm, uncrossable lines, now seemed a little shortsighted. His conscience warred with his cock, and his conscience won.

“You don’t need to warn me. Warn is a strong word, implying bad things, but let’s cover all the bases, so we’re clear. Are you married? Engaged? Is your heart spoken for? Do you have some disease that I should be more concerned about than I currently am? Are you taking some drug that makes you uninhibited and thus are not in full control of your senses? I think those are all of the circumstances that could discourage me from having intimate relations. So if any of those are applicable, a simple yes or no would be appreciated.”