Wrangled and Tangled (Blacktop Cowboys 3)
“Do it again,” she whispered.
He did it again. And again. “Angle your hips, baby. Rock into me like you did on the couch.”
Tierney gasped when that angle forced a direct connection to her clit. “I like that.”
“Thought you might.” He picked up the pace. The good thing about her being a virgin? She had no comparison for how long this was supposed to last.
Her hands roved over his body, making him tremble. She buried her face in his throat, kissing, licking and God—biting, holding on as his hips pumped faster.
Then he was in that suspended moment where his balls emptied as he thrust, harder, deeper, each spurt shooting out of his dick hotter, better and more intense than the last pulse, until he was wrung out and panting for his next breath.
As soon as he reclaimed his senses, he kissed her forehead. “Where is the closest light?”
“There’s a lamp on the nightstand to your right. But I think—”
“Don’t move.” It was a stretch, but he managed to find the button and click it on.
A dim glow erupted. They blinked at each other.
Framing her face in his hands, Renner bestowed a long kiss, then another. And another. Pulling back to ask, “A twenty-six-year-old virgin, huh? How the hell did that happen?”
Tierney squirmed. “You really want to do this right now?”
“Yep.”
“Get off me.”
“Nope.” He pressed his nose to hers. “The truth, Tierney. Now.”
How weird was it to be as close as humanly possible to Renner but also feel miles away from him? He wasn’t exactly a lightweight. He was sort of squishing her.
You like it. You’ve waited a long time to be squished beneath a man’s body.
“It ain’t exactly a hardship having you beneath me, but you oughta know I’m not goin’ nowhere until you talk to me.”
“I know.” Her shyness resurfaced when she thought of confessing her relationship ineptitude to this gorgeous, virile man who’d probably never had a problem connecting with the opposite sex.
He whispered, “Come on, sweetheart. Please. You must trust me on some level, because you trusted me enough to be the first man in your bed.”
Tierney blurted, “I stayed a virgin because I’m not exactly a guy magnet.”
“Darlin’, you couldn’t be more wrong.” He kissed her. “Keep goin’.”
“I never thought about it much when I was in my teens because I went to a private all girls’ school. A lot of my friends were still virgins our senior year—we were all academically motivated, not boy crazy. Then I went to college and focused on my bachelor’s degrees. And my master’s degrees. The club scene in Chicago just drove home the point I’m socially awkward. I’m not all that comfortable carrying on conversations with guys I don’t know. I can’t dance very well. I’m not spontaneous. I don’t have many hot, single girlfriends, so there was no reason for guys to look at me.”
“Are all men in Illinois blind and stupid?”
Her face burned. “You’re kinda smashing me.”
“Hang on.” He rolled until they were lying face-to-face. Renner kept their bodies close enough they might as well still be joined. He kept touching her. It didn’t soothe her though because it wasn’t a comforting caress, but a very possessive one. “So tell me, was it your big brain that kept guys away? Or did your daddy carry a big club?”
“A bit of both. I tend to stick with friends I’ve had for a long time, which limits meeting new people.”
“None of the douche bags you went to college with ever asked you out?”
How sweet that he was concerned that she hadn’t ever been properly pursued. “A few did. I went on dates. But I never got to the point I saw myself getting naked with any of them.”
Renner didn’t say anything. He didn’t look away, either. He just continued the gentle, erotic stroking from her bare shoulder to her wrist. “You weren’t keeping yourself chaste for religious reasons?”
Tierney shook her head.
“You weren’t abused at some point and have issues with sex?”
“Not at all.”
“You don’t fantasize about women instead of men, and thought if you hooked up with a studly cowboy I’d cure you?”
She laughed. “God, no.”
He smiled. “This didn’t happen just because I was handy and you wanted to get it over with?”
“You seduced me tonight, remember?”
“True.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Sweetheart, I gotta admit I’m confused by all this.”
“Why? It might sound strange in your world of cowboy studliness and uninhibited cowgirls chasing after you, but in my world, the opportunity for sex is limited. The longer I waited the weirder it got. So it morphed into this gigantic thing. At a conference in Vegas last year I mustered the guts to pick up a brochure for a male escort service, figuring a pro wouldn’t think my virginity was laugh-worthy. When I started to make the call . . . my father knocked on my hotel room door.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“No. I worried I’d become the female 40-Year-Old Virgin. After I moved here, I tried to remedy that . . .” She dropped her gaze to the sculpted muscles on Renner’s chest. Goodness. These differences between male and female bodies amazed her. And she was so glad she’d picked this sexy man as her foray into sex because he was a prime example of masculine perfection.