She shook her head, cupping his face in her hands. “You’re not standing here, freezing your butt off, waiting to kiss me?” He smiled, because even though they were completely alone, on several thousand acres, she’d whispered.
His eyes closed, absorbing her touch. “I’ll keep waiting, Jo. Until you’re ready,” he said, daring to meet her gaze. In her eyes, he saw all the need and want and uncertainty that gripped him. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
She leaned into his touch, but her gaze never left his.
“It’s cold. Come inside? I’ve got some stew and corn bread, if you’re hungry.” He offered her his hand. She could reject him—he sort of expected her to. But he hoped. When it came to Jo, he’d always hope.
She nodded, easing the tension in his stomach. She beamed at him as he held the door open for her. She brushed against him and a whole new range of emotions took over. He watched her, the way her hands twisted in the hem of her shirt, the way her eyes zeroed in on the fire burning low in the grate.
He crossed the room, kneeling before the fire to add some logs and stoke up the flames. When he turned, she stood before him, staring down at him. He stood, aching to drag her against him. If he only knew what she was thinking. “Jo?”
She reached for him, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head to hers. He caught her then, tenderly cradling her face. The sheen in her eyes surprised him, as did the way her lip trembled. “Hunter, please.” Her words were husky, rough, needy.
With a growl, every last bit of resistance left him. He’d wanted to be gentle, to love her tenderly, to take time to savor every inch of her. Maybe next time. He bore them back into the wall, nuzzling her neck and ear with his nose.
She smelled like cinnamon, spice and Jo. She ignited every nerve, making his heart ache and his body throb. His lips brushed hers, lingering on her lower lips and making her gasp. He turned into her, sealing her mouth with his. God, he wanted her, he needed her. She stirred a hunger in him that shook him to the core. It was powerful, and relentless.
He nudged her lips open and breathed her in deep. He kissed her then, without restraint. Pure emotion, mingled breaths, his hands cupped her neck, holding her to him. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head and holding her, letting his tongue explore until they were both breathless. He ran his nose along her neck, listening to the sound of her ragged breath. She was trembling as his lips latched on to her earlobe.
“Hunter.” His name, torn from her lips, set his blood boiling.
He stopped, pulling back. In that moment, he knew there was no one who would ever make him feel the way she did. It was more than her touch, the texture of her skin, her scent. It was Jo. His Jo. In his arms. Where she belonged.
Her eyes opened.
Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, surprising him. She tugged his undershirt free from his jeans, her palms cold enough to make him shiver but not shy away. And then she was kissing his neck, her hands moving over his stomach, his chest, driving him crazy. When she realized his shirt snapped, she yanked, popping it open. Her urgency fueled his—she wanted him and he wasn’t going to let her down. He shrugged out of his shirt, ducking down to let her tug his undershirt over his head. She stood there, shaking her head.
“You okay?” he asked.
“It’s just... It’s you. Different, sure. But you, you know?” She took his hand in hers. “It’s still you.”
Words failed him. She wasn’t just talking about his body. She felt it, too? She had to. She blew out a long, unsteady breath.
“I missed you, Jo.” His thumb ran over her lower lip. He had to kiss her, had to touch the soft skin beneath her sweater. She was like silk, too fine for the roughened pads of his fingertips. But now that he was touching her, he couldn’t stop. He trailed his fingers up her sides, then back down, needing more. “Stay?”
She nodded, taking his hand in hers.
He looked at their joined hands, then led her to his bedroom. He turned, wanting to tell her the truth. He loved her, he wanted her... But before he could say a word, she pulled her sweater off and dropped it on the floor at their feet.
* * *
JOSIE GASPED. ONE MINUTE he was staring at her, the next she was lying on her back in his big bed. He leaned over her, the hunger in his eyes inflaming her.
His fingers trailed the edge of her pale blue lace bra. He dipped his head, nuzzling her chest. He pressed soft kisses, the tip of his tongue tracing the valley between her breasts. She clasped his head to her, twisting her fingers in his hair, exhilarating in his touch.
He stood, unhooking his belt and unbuttoning his pants. She rose on her elbows, watching. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She grinned. She’d been dreaming about Hunter, about his body, about the way he made her feel. Now it was happening and she didn’t want to miss a thing.
“Want to help me with my boots?” he asked.
She stood, letting him sit on the edge of the bed. She turned, tucked his foot between her legs and grabbed the heel of his boot. Then she grabbed the other. She faced him, tossing the boot over her shoulder.
His hands gripped her hips, pulling her between his legs. He buried his face between her breasts, his arms an unbreakable vise about her, holding her, protecting her, loving her. She ran her fingers along his shoul
ders, arching her back as his mouth nipped at the skin along her bra line.
Her hands traveled along his shoulders. She loved the feel of him, the raw strength of his body.
His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra while she shimmied out of her jeans and panties. It had been a long time since she’d stood naked in front of anyone, but the look on his face made her feel beautiful. She was lost to the rasp of his breath, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her against him, skin to skin. His hands were relentless, exploring each curve, stroking and teasing until she thought she would burst.