Gone Country (Rough Riders 14)
“Don’t you dare.”
His nose drifted along her neck. “Damn, Rielle, you smell great.”
“It’s, ah…” Shit. She couldn’t think straight when his mouth was on her skin.
“It’s what?” he murmured.
“Honeysuckle.”
“That fits.” He pressed a kiss on her neck. “I’d like to suckle some of your honey.”
The words should’ve sounded corny, but they were beyond sexy murmured in Gavin’s throaty rasp.
He set her down and turned her around. He brushed something out of her hair and used the backs of his knuckles to outline her jaw. “Know something?”
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking about you. Missing you the last few days. A little pissy about it if you want to know the truth. Wondering if you missed me at all.”
“I did.”
“Good.”
He kept stroking her face.
“What?”
“I’m a lousy worker bee. I kept looking over at you, trying to draw you into conversation and now that you’re right in front of me…I can’t think of a damn thing to say. These wide green eyes of yours draw me right in.”
She blinked at him.
“And then there’s your mouth…”
“My mouth what?” she managed to whisper.
“Your mouth is so lush. I could sink into it for days.”
Rielle licked her lips.
He groaned. “You tempting me? Or challenging me?”
“Both.” She snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
The move caught him by surprise but it didn’t take long for him to haul her against his body and sink into the kiss like he’d warned. Opening his mouth to consume hers in a teasing, hot tangle of tongues. A kiss that changed from hungry to seductive to sweet and back to hungry.
Her head buzzed. If Gavin didn’t have such a tight hold on her, she’d have a hard time standing, he kissed her with such ferocity. Like she was air, water and light.
Gavin ripped his mouth from hers and said, “Holy f**k.”
That made her smile because she’d been thinking the same thing.
His hands were on her face, tilting her head back. His burning gaze moved to her mouth. Then his lips were on hers again, giving her the sweetest, gentlest kiss. The wet glide of his lips and the possessive way his hand slid down to the back of her neck, holding her in place, was undeniably sexy.
Rielle didn’t know how long they stayed like that, body to body, mouth to mouth. By the time he released her, her panties were damp, her breathing was choppy and she considered tearing off her clothes so they could go at it, right there in the dirt.
She rested her face on his chest and heard his heart beating beneath her ear. His shirt was damp and she breathed in his scent.
“This changes things,” he said softly, stroking her hair.
“I know. Did you ever imagine this would happen when you saved me from the evil banking empire two years ago?”
“No. But seeing you pushing that wheelbarrow the first day we arrived…”
She arched back to look at him. “I was wearing a skintight tank top and no bra that day.”
“I noticed.” Gavin grinned without shame. “Believe me, I’ve done my share of noticing lots of things about you.”
Rielle couldn’t keep from asking, “Like?”
“Like how sweet your ass looks in those cargo shorts you always wear.”
“You’re trying to make me blush.” But she didn’t want him to stop.
His gaze turned solemn. “No, I’m trying to tell you what’s happening between us isn’t just because it’s convenient.”
Relieved, happy—hell, she was giddy—Rielle rose to her toes and pecked him on the mouth. “Thank you for saying that, because that worried me too. The truth is, I like you. A whole lot. And what a bonus that you’re an awesome kisser.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation in a beet field. That’s me, Mr. Romance.”
She tugged on his shirt. “Speaking of…I have to get these roots out of the sun. Then I’ll make lunch.”
Gavin didn’t complain for the next hour as they transferred the beets, sweet potatoes and celeriac to the root cellar.
“I had no idea this was here,” he said, studying the earthen walls and rickety wooden stairs.
“That’s sort of the point.” Rielle clumped the beets together on a long table. “My parents weren’t aware of the underground missile silos all around Wyoming before they moved here. The missile sites are gone now, but it was an issue for them, so they started building a bomb shelter.”
“Seriously? Why?”
“What part of hippie is confusing to you?”
“I like that you can joke about it.”
“What? The word hippie? Or the way I was raised?”
“Both. The word doesn’t mean the same thing to me now as it did even two months ago.” He wore a grimace as he handed her more beets. “You make me feel lazy and that’s not something I’m used to. Usually I’m the hardest working person in the room. It boggles my mind, all the stuff you know how to do.”
“It’s not like I had formal schooling. It was haphazard at best. They taught me when they felt like it, what they felt like—never on any type of schedule. They preached the idea that real life lessons don’t come from books. While I agree to some extent, they didn’t understand how much I craved books and knowledge. My mother did a somewhat normal thing and took me to the library in Moorcroft. I devoured every type of book I could get my hands on. I would’ve given anything to have the regular kind of life I could only read about.”
“And I would’ve given anything for my dad to teach me something useful, like how to use a hammer. Or change a tire.”
“Isn’t that human nature? To wish for something different than what we have?”
“Maybe.” Gavin kissed the edge of her jaw, down the side of her neck and sucked the spot on her throat where her pulse pounded. “Right now I wish we were in a room with a bed.”
“Too good for a bed of dirt, tycoon?” she teased.
“Not at all. But I’ll need food for strength before I get started on all the dirty things I want to do with you.”
She shivered. “Maybe we should take a lunch break now or we will end up doing it in the dirt.”
Lunch was deer sausage on wheat rolls with sliced tomato and goat milk cheese, sweet potato chips and cantaloupe. Gavin ate like she’d served up a gourmet feast.