“I have some work to do in the morning.” I slide a hand over her hip. “In the afternoon, we’re going to visit Lorne.”
I have plans for her during the two-hour drive to the prison. If she’s still around after that, I’ll put some miles on the riding crop tomorrow night.
She remains quiet, her body soft and slack against the front of mine. The even tempo of her breaths feathers the air, her skin unresponsive as I caress her bare thigh.
She’s already out, wrapped in exhaustive sleep.
I start to drift along with her, fighting it with everything I have. I want to savor this—the warmth of her flesh, the scent of her hair, the rhythm of her heartbeat. She’s a dream I ache to remain awake for, an erotic canvas to be explored and appreciated.
As I trail a hand along the curve of her thigh, unconsciousness falls like an ax.
Before dawn, I wake just as abruptly, my groggy mind luxuriating in the remnants of a dream, reluctant to let it go.
I blink against the darkness, realizing the dream is very real, curled up in my arms, breathing against my neck, with a leg tossed over my painfully hard erection.
The clock on the nightstand tells me I have twenty minutes before I need to be in the saddle. Twenty minutes to take a tour of the curves and valleys molded around me.
I start at the back of her knee, shifting her leg from my groin to my stomach. With featherlight fingers, I trail a path along her thigh to the hem of her cotton shorts.
She moans in her sleep and nuzzles her face deeper against my neck. My breathing accelerates, my body heating and tightening against her.
I can’t remember the last time I went longer than a week without sex, but it’s not just that. It’s her.
Everything about her feels right, from her argumentative spirit to the innocence that radiates from her pores. Her open-mindedness and ability to adjust is refreshing. She’s a vegetarian, but she doesn’t push her dietary choices onto others. She wants to save all the chickens, but she isn’t here to sabotage my business.
She doesn’t sleep around, yet her eyes illuminate with so much sexual curiosity and interest it makes my balls throb.
I want to learn her fantasies, break them in, and spank them into something she’ll only ever experience with me. But for now, I’ll just be content with a twenty-minute taste.
She’s taken to wearing my shirts to bed, and this one hangs off her shoulder and halfway down her arm, creating an enticing plunge across her breast.
I dip my mouth there, ghosting my lips across the rise of supple flesh. Inching a hand along the back of her thigh, I slip beneath the loose shorts and palm the firm muscle of her ass. No panties.
A stretch shudders through her, and she wriggles closer, arching against my mouth with her fingers in my hair. Her dusky nipple pops free, and I latch onto it, drawing it between my lips with a groan.
She tenses. “Jarret?”
“I’m just tasting.” I lave my tongue over the taut bud, flicking and nibbling. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
Her backside flexes beneath my palm, but instead of pushing me away, she edges closer, shifting restlessly with shallow breaths. “What are you doing to me?”
Ruining her for all other men.
“You’re sleeping in here from now on.” I palm her round butt cheek and glide my fingers down her crack.
“I might be more receptive…” She shoves at my arm and squirms to escape. “If you were less bossy and more imploring.”
“Imploring?” I grip her waist and drag her on top of me to straddle my hips.
“Please and thank you would be a good start.” She stays where I positioned her, staring down at me in the dark.
The shadow of her hair curls around her face and torso. Soft and tousled, there’s so much of it I could use it like rope to bind her arms.
“How did you sleep?” I reach up to pluck her exposed nipple.
“Surprisingly well.” She knocks my hand away and adjusts the shirt to cover herself. “Thank you for behaving yourself…until this morning.”
Now that I’m rested, behaving isn’t an option. “Have you ever slept beside a man?”
“I’ve had some failed relationships. Men I lived with.” Her expression darkens. “Mistakes I don’t intend to repeat again.” She pushes away from me and climbs off the bed. “I need to get ready.”
One question and I completely soured the mood.
As she flees the room, I burn to chase her down and demand answers. Answers about her past relationships. Answers about her knowledge of the corruption and murder at Julep Ranch. Those are two areas that seem to shut her down the fastest.
But I won’t get anywhere until I earn her trust. The best way I know how to do that is with my hands and mouth, pain and pleasure, surrender and dominance.