Soaring with Fallon (Big Sky 4)

“What are you thinking?” he asks and licks his spoon.

Rather than answer, I set my ice cream on the coffee table, take his and do the same, and then I straddle him right here on the couch as if I’ve done it a million times before.

There’s something about Noah that makes me feel comfortable, and I’m not going to overthink it right now.

“I like your arms,” I reply as his hands firmly cup my ass.

“I caught you looking at them earlier.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t care.”

“Nope. You have good arms, what’s to be sorry about?” I lean over and kiss his cheek. The hands on my ass tighten.

“So the chemistry here is off the fucking charts,” he says as one hand roams from my butt, under my tank, and then up my back. “And you’re not wearing a bra.”

“Nope.” I grin before covering his lips with my own. The kiss is hot but slow. I’m exploring him, his lips and his tongue, and reveling in him exploring my body. I brace myself with my hands on his strong shoulders, enjoying the way the muscles move under my palms.

The next thing I know, I’m flat on my back on the couch, and he’s over me. He’s pinned my hands over my head with one hand and uses the other to cup one breast under my shirt, still kissing the hell out of me.

I’m cradling him with my thighs, and I can feel him harden and lengthen. Everything about Noah King is just delicious.

And I want every inch of him.

He finally releases my hands to tug my shirt over my head and tosses it on the floor. His lips instantly latch onto a nipple, making me arch my back, pressing closer to him. Not for the first time, I wish my breasts were more impressive.

“God, you’re so fucking sweet,” he growls, gliding his hand up and down my torso. “Your skin is soft.”

I bury my fingers in his damp hair, holding on tightly as that magical hand unfastens my shorts and slides down to the promised land.

“Jesus, Fal, you’re so wet.”

“I’m so turned on.” I moan, circling my hips and encouraging him to push those fingers inside me.

I’m not disappointed.

“Yes,” I breathe, clenching onto his fingers and riding him like a woman possessed.

“My God, just look at you,” he says, his brown eyes shining with lust. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re doing this,” I remind him, just as his phone rings. “Ignore it.”

But his hand is already gone, and the orgasm I was reaching for has retreated.

“Damn it,” he grumbles. “I’m so sorry. It’s my emergency line. I have to answer.”

His eyes are on mine as he accepts the call. “King. Yeah. Yeah.”

And I see it. He’s needed somewhere, and this will have to wait for another time. “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He ends the call and immediately covers me again to kiss me silly. But when he pulls away, I see the regret in his eyes.

“I have to go,” he says. “I’m so damn sorry.”

“It’s okay. Where are we going?”

He grins. “We?”

“Hell, yes. You don’t get to do that to me and then run off without me. Where are we going?”

“West of town about ten miles, toward the Lazy K Ranch.”

I’m not sure what a Lazy K Ranch is. “Can I have my shirt back?”

“Regrettably, yes.” He kisses me once more before standing and taking the ice cream to the kitchen. “But I’m taking it off again later.”

“Promises, promises.”

* * * *

“Babies,” I whisper as I climb out of Noah’s truck and follow him to the side of the road where an older couple is waiting, watching a cluster of little balls of fluff.

“Thanks for calling,” Noah says to the man, shaking his hand. “Fallon, this is my uncle Jeff and aunt Nancy King.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” I say and smile. I’m quickly shocked to find myself wrapped in a tight hug by Nancy. She pats my back and pulls away with a smile of her own.

They’re a friendly family, that’s for sure.

“How did you find these guys?” Noah asks as he takes a big pet carrier out of the back of his truck.

“Until about five minutes ago, they were in the middle of the highway,” Jeff says, helping Noah herd them into the carrier.

“I shooed them to the shoulder,” Nancy says. “What are they?”

“Owlets,” Noah replies with a smile. “And if they’re out here alone, their mama is probably not doing well.”

“We haven’t seen a mama,” Nancy says, and I immediately feel my eyes fill.

Poor babies.

“I’ll get these guys loaded on the truck and take a quick look around,” Noah says as Jeff continues helping him load the owlets into the back of the truck. Then we all set off on foot, up and down the highway, looking for the mama.

“What kind of owl would it be?” I ask.