Cowboy Proud. Kelli Ireland

“Done,” he whispered, his mouth closing the distance between them.

      The sky opened up the moment he kissed her.

4

      FOR A SPLIT SECOND, Cade was certain the cold water should steam off his skin where it hit. And all due to a kiss. But this was more than a kiss. It was the kiss. It rocked him, sending a heady rush through his body. They stood there getting lost in each other as the cold New Mexico rain thoroughly soaked them.

      Her lips were full and pliant. Scalding heat radiated off her body. She opened to him. Her tongue darted out to taste him in a bold caress. The move, quick and yet almost questioning, nearly undid him. He groaned, the sound carried away by the wind that whipped through the grass and rattled leaves.

      He couldn’t let the moment go, tasting her with the same surety as she’d done him. She had the faintest hint of mint on her tongue. He couldn’t remember her having eaten, as if she’d eaten candy at some point. In the dark, with her wet body sealed against his, she smelled of clean cotton and the very storm itself. Underneath that was, he assumed, whatever musky perfume she wore. The combination all but drove him to his knees.

      Warm heat spread through him as their limbs tangled together, her legs inhibited by the cut and length of her dress until, with a noise of obvious frustration, she hiked the hem up to her waist.

      Cade gripped her under the arms and set her on the tailgate, moving between her thighs when she grabbed his shirt and tugged.

      “Off,” she murmured against his lips, pulling at the buttons.

      He yanked at his shirt, those very buttons scattering in every direction. She helped him peel the denim down his arms, and they jointly flung it free as the cuffs cleared his hands.

      Their mouths reconnected frantically. He took the kiss deeper. Or did she? Whatever. The only things that mattered were hands and tongues and teeth, lips and sharp, short sounds of encouragement that trumpeted their own wild intent. Both soft and calloused hands swept over bared skin wherever they found it. Lightning skipped cloud to cloud and the resulting thunder echoed in its wake. But even Mother Nature wasn’t strong enough to stop what they’d started.

      He’d lost himself in her so fast. Never before had a woman pulled at him like this. Never before had he become a slave to taste, smell, touch or the smooth satin of rain-slicked skin under his work-roughened hands. Never had he expected to find someone with the power to drive him out of his mind. No way did he want to lose this moment—or this woman.

      Cade ran his hands up Emma’s sides and found the zipper for the dress under her left arm. His fingers seemed too large, too clumsy to deal with the delicate dress. Fumbling with the tab, he cursed.

      She pushed at his hand.

      His fingers were wrapped in the dress, and he pulled.

      Fabric ripped.

      Struggling, she broke the kiss and glared. “This was my favorite dress.”

      “I’ll buy you another one.”

      She yanked him into her again, her mouth searing his as she shimmied her upper body free of the garment.

       Make that five. I’ll buy her five more.

      He slid his hands up the sides of her thighs as the storm picked up force. Wind whipped the rain against his skin. Her bare legs had goose bumps. Intent on pulling her into the warmth of the truck, he broke the kiss again and made to move away.

      Emma wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him into her with a bold stare. “Not yet.”

      “You’re cold.”

      “Not where it matters.”

      At her admission, her words husky and laden with wicked intent, he had a singular moment where he was afraid he was going to orgasm with no one touching him.

      Like hell.

      She pulled him tight to her, fumbling with his belt buckle. A sound of unadulterated need escaped her as the denim-clad ridge of his erection slid across the silk of her panties, riding just the right spot.

      So he did it again.

      Emma writhed even as she wrapped her hands around his neck. Lips against his, she whispered, “Get those pants undone, cowboy.”

      “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, hands first dealing with his belt buckle, and then working his pants and boxer briefs down. His erection sprang free, hard as a cured two-by-four.

      The tip of her tongue traced the bow of her upper lip as she looked him over. Then her eyes met his. “All of it.” Her gaze dipped and she took a shuddering breath that translated through the most intimate points of contact between them. “I want everything you have to give, Cade.”

      He fished for his wallet, his waterlogged pants complicating things as they slid down his legs. Finally getting ahold of it, he pulled it free as Emma grabbed his rigid cock, stroking it from tip to root with a firm hand. Cade closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky as his hips surged forward. Unable to stop himself, he shouted as he pumped into her stroking fist.

      The burn began at the base of his spine. Gripping her wrist, he pulled her hand away from him and sheathed himself. His breaths came short. “You have to stop before I completely lose it.”

      All he wanted was to flip her over and drive into her again and again, to lose himself in this woman who brought him to life, who crushed the thick conservative shell he’d erected over the years to subdue his wild side, and who made nothing matter but the moment. She was his next breath, his next heartbeat, the whole of his desire.