Turn and Burn (Blacktop Cowboys 5)

Tanna was absolutely drunk on him.

When the plate was empty, he nuzzled the crook of her neck. “Still hungry? I can cut up more.”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“Time for dessert.”

“Fletch, I’m—”

“Just a couple of bites.” He ran his tongue over the shell of her ear. “Sweet bites.”

“You can fill me up with sugar bites like this anytime.”

“Sugar bites?” he repeated against her neck.

The warmth of his breath tickled more than just her damp skin. “That’s what we Texans call these sweet little nipping kisses. Sugar bites.”

“I guess that fits, ’cause, sugar, I could just eat you up. Bite”—he fastened his teeth to her earlobe and tugged—“by bite.”

Yes, please. “Hang on a second. I’m thirsty.”

“Let me.” He lifted the bottle and offered her another drink. Excess cider spilled out the corners of her mouth and dribbled down her neck. She raised her hand to swipe it away, but he stayed the movement and murmured, “I’ll get that.”

The sensation of his warm tongue delicately lapping at her skin sent gooseflesh rippling from head to toe.

“Be right back with something sweeter than you.”

Tanna closed her eyes and listened to him rummaging in the fridge. What would he feed her? Chocolate syrup? Whipped cream? Ice cream?

She heard him approaching and then Fletch’s hips pressed against the inside of her thighs. A hand fisted her hair, tilting her head back and he thoroughly plundered her mouth in a hot, wet kiss that electrified every nerve ending in her body. She whimpered. Arched against him. But he didn’t bring her closer. He eased back, his lips a whisper away.

“Look at me.”

She slowly lifted her lids. The beautiful man remained inches away, gazing into her eyes.

“Open your mouth.”

Her lips automatically parted. His fingers slid between her teeth and he dropped something on her tongue. She pressed the object against her hard palate. The taste of blueberry spread across her tongue. She swallowed and smiled.

“You like?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Fletch held another berry to her lips.

But she caught his fingertips between her teeth, swirling her tongue around the tips before sucking the fruit free.

The heat that flashed in Fletch’s eyes sent a surge of warmth through her.

“Another.”

Tanna parted her lips, expecting a repeat, but he rimmed the inside of her lip with a fat raspberry, moving it so slowly she felt every seedy contour on the smooth inner flesh of her mouth. He repeated the process on her upper lip, his eyes avidly following the arc of the wet, berry-stained flesh. When he finished, she poked her tongue out and he placed the soft berry on the tip. She brought it into her mouth and sucked, feeling the fruit break apart.

The next raspberry he fed her was coated in sugar. He pressed it against her lips, releasing the juice and turning the sugar granules sticky. He licked and sucked her mouth with such eroticism, she nearly forgot to breathe.

“Tanna,” he whispered sexily against the corner of her mouth. “Give yourself to me tonight. Let me take care of all your needs. You don’t have to think, just feel.” He started kissing straight down her throat as his fingers twisted in her hair.

“Why? I should be—”

His mouth consumed hers until she forgot what she’d been about to say. “Indulge me.”

Indulge? In that raspy tone it sounded more like a command.

But she didn’t care. She wanted this commanding, yet sensual and nurturing side of Fletch. She liked how he took care of her. No man before had ever bothered so she truly didn’t know how to act when he treated her like someone special. Almost with reverence.

Tanna looked into his eyes and said, “Consider yourself indulged.”

Chapter Twenty-six

After a week and a half of sun, the day dawned overcast. Not cold. Or muggy. Clouds covered the wide-open sky—unusual for summer in Wyoming.

Tanna slipped on boots, jeans and a tank top beneath her long-sleeved shirt. She wasn’t sure what Fletch had planned for them today, so she grabbed a light jacket from her trailer before she walked back to his.

Fletch was on the deck, talking on the phone. He grinned at her and returned to his conversation.

“I understand. No. That’s always worked in the past so I haven’t needed to explore other options.” He laughed. “Not a miracle worker by a long stretch. Just fire me an e-mail with whatever treatment you decide on. Sure. Tell her you couldn’t get in touch with me. No. She’ll insist on talking to me and I’m supposed to be off the grid. Mention her daddy. That always gets her back up. No problem. Thanks for the heads-up. See ya.” He hung up.

“Problems?”

“One of my clients is being a pain to my colleague who’s handling my practice during my sabbatical.”

“I thought they weren’t supposed to be calling you.”

“Emergency only.” Fletch pocketed his phone. “But she figures she’s a special exception. I assured my colleague she’s not. Anyway, it’s done with so let’s get started on our day.”

“Where we goin’?”

“Around,” was his vague reply. He took her hand, leading her to the parking area.

“Are you gonna feed me?” In the last week the man had demonstrated a thing for making sure she ate. With his forced PT and concern for her diet, it was like she had a personal trainer and a nutritionist.