He stroked her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “If it means anything to you, I care for you, Blair. I like you. I admire you. I respect you. I think about you all the time. You make me want to make promises...and that’s enough to scare the socks off me,” he added ruefully.
“I don’t want you to make promises,” she whispered. Not unless he was prepared to keep them.
“Then what do you want, Blair? Do you want me to take you home now?”
Her breath hitched in her throat. The decision was hers. And for the first time in her adult life, she was tempted to give in to her Townsend recklessness—to throw consequences to the wind and take what she wanted. She had fallen hard for Scott McKay—there was no getting around that. When he drifted away, would she regret more that she had dared to find out what making love with him would be like...or that she had not had the courage to try?
Scott smiled faintly and kissed the end of her nose. “Don’t look so worried and anxious, Counselor. You’re making me feel like the big, bad wolf. I’ll take you home.”
Definitely the smart thing to do, she thought. And Blair had always made smart choices—at least until she’d impulsively purchased a cowboy at that bachelor auction. Yet something inside her seemed to have changed when she’d made the first bid. She’d discovered that she was a bit braver and more daring than she’d ever suspected.
“I’m not ready to go home just yet,” she answered with a certainty in her voice that surprised even her. “I’d like to stay a little while longer.”
His eyes glittered, but he held back. “You’re sure?”
She slid a hand behind his neck. “I’m sure.”
“Blair, I don’t want you to be sorry—”
She couldn’t help laughing a little at the sudden reversal of roles. “Do you want me to stay or not?”
“Oh, yeah,” he answered with a groan that could only be described as heartfelt.
Her other hand slid slowly up his chest. “So what’s your problem, McKay?”
His grin flashed. His shoulders relaxed. “Why, not a thing, ma’am.”
“Then saddle up, cowboy,” she murmured, giving him a look intended to sizzle his synapses.
Once Blair Townsend accepted a challenge, she gave it all she had, she thought in satisfaction.
Scott looked both surprised and delighted. “Yee-haw,” he said, and smothered her smile beneath his.
*
SCOTT’S ROOM featured warm wood furnishings and dark, cozy plaids. Blair felt welcomed immediately—not that the decorating was solely responsible for that, she thought as Scott took her into his arms.
They fell to the bed together, their clothing accumulating in tumbled piles on the plush carpet. Blair discovered that Scott was every bit as firm and solid as she had fantasized. Her fingertips traced the muscles beneath his skin, pausing at an occasional scar that gave evidence of his adventurous pursuits. The dusting of hair on his chest was soft and springy. She traced his spine from his nape to the hollow above his hips. Every inch of him delighted her.
Scott seemed every bit as eager to explore her body. From the soft skin behind her ears to the ticklish arches of her feet, he caressed every part of her with tender fingers and lips. She was trembling and restless by the time he returned to her mouth, every centimeter of her body tingling and sensitized. There was a deep, powerful ache inside her, an emptiness she begged him in whispered requests to assuage.
After swiftly donning protection—that was one area in which she had no intention of acting recklessly—Scott fulfilled every fantasy Blair had secretly harbored since the first moment she had seen him standing in the Lost Springs arena.
And it was even better than she had dared to dream.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT TOOK A WHILE for reality to displace the euphoria that lingered after Blair’s sighs of pleasure had faded away. She forced her heavy eyelids open and found herself only inches from Scott. He lay on his stomach beside her, his face turned toward her, eyes closed, lips curved in a faint, satisfied smile. It was the realization that she had just tumbled the rest of the way into love with this irresistible cowboy that made her heart start to race again—this time with panic rather than passion.
She shoved herself upright, reaching for her clothing in the same movement. If they left now, it would be around midnight when she got home, she thought. That seemed like an appropriate time for a fan
tasy to end.
Her sudden activity startled Scott into opening his eyes. He reached out to catch her wrist. “Where are you going?”
“It’s getting late. I should go home.”
“What’s the rush?”