Clayton grinned ruefully and slid his hands over her gently swirling hips. “Lydi, I can twirl you around the dance floor in a waltz, or a two-step, or any of a number of country and western dances, but I can’t move to music like that.”
Afraid others would laugh at him if he did, he’d always been a little less willing to try new or different things when growing up.
“Maybe you just never had the right teacher, cowboy.” She stopped dancing, which he almost found sad, but looked up into his eyes and caressed his chest. Proving how intuitive she was, she said, “If you ever wanted to dance with me to a rock song I wouldn’t laugh or make fun of you. I’d love it.”
“We should take you to The Dancing Pony this weekend. Ethan and Ben usually mix in some rock and pop music with the country and western songs. Do you like to dance?”
Lydia nodded enthusiastically as she regarded him. “And you would dance with me?”
“Of course.”
“I hope we can do that.”
She set him to work dicing up tomatoes and chopping lettuce while she finished putting the enchiladas and side dishes together.
Once the enchiladas were in the oven, Lydia blotted her forehead and her neck and looked very satisfied with her work. Clayton removed two beers from the refrigerator and took her by the hand. He drew her into the family room, set the ceiling fan above them on the highest setting, and sat down in the big cushioned recliner, still holding her hand.
He got comfortable, patted his knee, and said, “Come sit in my lap. We have twenty minutes before they’re due. That’s plenty of time for you to cool down and take a breather.” At her uncertain look he added, “Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me.”
“I’m just not used to sitting in someone’s lap.”
“Well this someone would very much like you in his lap.”
Clayton slid his arms around her hips and pulled her closer as he rocked the recliner back. The chair tilted, and he allowed gravity to help her find her spot, and she curled into his side. She scooted around, eventually getting comfortable, and he rocked her and took a sip from his beer. She let out a long sigh and took a sip from hers as well.
“Better?” he asked as he shifted under her and she sank deeper into his side.
“Yeah. I don’t mean to be so…stiff with you.”
Clayton was thinking she wasn’t the only thing stiff, and she chose that moment to look in his eyes, evidently realizing the dual meaning her words could have. Clayton smiled and a chuckle rose from his chest. “Wish I could say the same thing, but it would be a lie.”
Color rose in her cheeks, and she burst into laughter. They lay there laughing until Lydia finally said, “Oh, I needed that. I’m sorry. Should I get off?”
Clayton rolled his eyes and groaned. “You’re killing me!” They laughed again, and it was a nice feeling. He was definitely hard and getting harder by the second with her sexy body pressed against him, but he was glad that she felt more comfortable. He set his beer on the side table. She looked up at him, and he tilted her chin farther up and kissed her lips. He took her beer from her and blindly placed it with his.
A sexy groan came from her, reminiscent of the provocative sounds he’d heard while she was in her bathtub on her first night at the ranch, and his cock pulsed with excitement. Her dark lashes fanned down against her cheeks, and he stroked her jaw. Lydia’s skin was like satin under his fingertips. She slid her left hand upward until her fingers traced through the hair at his nape. Her lips and silky tongue played against his own as she stroked the back of his head.
Having her curled up in his arms in such a relaxed setting felt so good. It seemed right and natural when his hand strayed to her ass, then gently slid down the back of her thigh and pulled up so it was pressed over his throbbing erection.
She slid her hand back down his chest to his abdomen and seemed to melt in his arms. They kissed for several minutes, and he became concerned that she was straining her neck. Shifting slightly to his left side, he gave her a little room so she could move into a more comfortable position.
The timer on the stove signaling seven o’clock went off just as she rose up on her right elbow to get a little leverage. Unfortunately, when she did that it triggered the recline mechanism in the chair and it flattened out beneath them.
“Whoa-oa!”
What happened next was like something out of a cartoon. Because her weight was on her elbow, she was knocked off balance and fell forward and flopped onto him, straddling him. Her momentum caused the chair to tip over onto the tile floor as Chance and the ranch hands filed in through the back door.