Her Montana Man. Laurie Paige

since they’d parted.

      “This,” he finished for her. “I know. I told myself I wouldn’t want you again.”

      “Then don’t. Let me go.”

      Anger joined the flames of passion in his eyes. “I can’t. It’s too strong. You have a hold over me….”

      He shook his head. She understood the frustration, the longing that wouldn’t let up, the failure of logic and all the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this.

      When he lifted her to the railing and pushed between her thighs, fitting their bodies intimately into place, her bones became as pliant as taffy. When he moved against her, her mind went cloudy.

      They kissed endlessly, a wildness running through her blood and echoing in the beat of his heart against her breasts. Fighting the tidal wave of hunger was useless. She clung to him, wanting the hot bliss that only he stirred to life in her.

      “Why?” he said at one point, his eyes licking over her in restless flames of need. “Why does it have to be you?”

      Hurt, she tried to draw away, but he wouldn’t let her. She turned her face from his rampaging mouth. He caught her head between his hands and held her face so he could gaze into her eyes.

      “It’s always been this way for us, hasn’t it?” he demanded huskily. “Wild and necessary. Primitive and unexplained. The call of blood to blood.”

      She shook her head, unable to summon words in her defense but feeling that she should.

      “Irresistible,” he whispered.

      He took her mouth again, fanning the passion that flowed like lava between them, burning all sense and good intentions to a crisp, leaving only the hunger, the terrible, terrible hunger. She moaned as he caressed her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive tips so that they contracted into hard points of ecstasy.

      “I have to see you, all of you,” he told her. “It’s like being starved, then coming upon a feast. I have to have it all.”

      “Yes,” she said, knowing exactly what he meant. “Yes.”

      With fingers that trembled ever so little, he unfastened her blouse and pulled it from her slacks. Eyes narrowed impatiently, he checked her bra, then slid his hands around her and unfastened the hooks.

      Slowly, torturously, he pushed the satin upward, out of the way. Then he simply looked, his lashes lowered sexily over the flaming passion she saw in his gaze.

      “Beautiful,” he said, and kissed the yearning tips, then feathered his tongue over each one.

      She clutched his shoulders as the world spun out of control. When he lifted her breasts and paid special attention to them with his lips and his hands, she couldn’t keep from crying out as the wonder of his touch filled her.

      He lifted her from the railing and set her on her feet. Taking her hand, he said, “Let’s go.”

      In the cabin, its air cool compared to the heat of the deck, she tried to think, but her mind refused to cooperate. She realized she didn’t want caution and reason and all the things she’d practiced all her life.

      Going into the bedroom with him, she stopped when he did and faced him, her heart rushing its beat at the intensity in his gaze.

      “I have protection at my place,” he said softly, his eyes locked with hers. “Would you feel better if we used it?”

      She blinked in uncertainty. “I can’t conceive,” she finally said. “I had polyps removed, but there’s scar tissue.”

      He laid a finger over her lips, then lingered to caress her gently. “Kelly told me. I’m safe, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

      Chelsea looked away from his probing gaze, touched by his consideration in ways she didn’t want to admit. He’d always had the ability to reach inside and touch the lonely places she tried to hide.

      He tipped her chin up. “Chelsea?”

      “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m comfortable.”

      He heaved a breath as if he’d been unsure of her answer. “I’m not. I’m burning up.”

      With a grin that caused her heart to flip, he pushed the shirt and bra off her shoulders until they fell to the floor. His eyes darkened as he stared at her.

      Her breasts were flushed, the tips a dusky pink. Passion’s bloom, he had once called the telltale rosy hue her body took on when he caressed her intimately. She’d been embarrassed at the obvious signs of passion when they’d first become lovers.

      The smart of tears surprised her as she remembered how sweetly reassuring he’d been, how he’d encouraged her to show the need, to tell him what she wanted. It had been a thrilling time of mutual exploration and discovery of the passionate side of nature.

      He quickly stripped his shirt off and moved closer until he could brush her nipples, teasing her with slow dry strokes of wiry hairs across her as he had earlier with the wet caresses of his tongue.

      She closed her eyes and tilted her head until she could feel the brush of her hair along her back. Holding on to his powerful shoulders, she let inhibitions go and gloried in the tactile sensations of touch.

      When her knees went weak, she swayed against him, her body curving into his as naturally as a willow bending before the wind.

      “Wait,” Pierce said huskily. He shucked his clothing, then helped her get out the rest of her things. They fell onto the bed as one.

      Then there was skin against skin as their arms and legs entwined naturally, in ways never forgotten.

      He knew there was danger in her embrace, but it didn’t matter—not now. If there was a price to pay for this moment, he’d worry about it tomorrow.

      “So sweet,” he murmured, taking her lips in a thousand kisses that fed a part of him he didn’t know was starving. “And so dangerous.”

      “Yes,” she agreed, “but so good. I’ve never forgotten how good it was.”

      Stroking intimately, he found she was ready. So was he. He rolled over her lithe form, settling between her thighs as she opened to him, her eyes on his face, shining with trust as well as need.

      It gave him pause, then he whispered, “Take me in you.”

      As if it had been hours rather than years, he merged his body with hers. As she shifted to accommodate him, he realized she was experiencing some discomfort.

      Puzzled, he stopped. “Am I hurting you?”

      She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

      Which didn’t tell him a thing. “It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it?” he asked, feeling his way through the moment.

      She closed her eyes. “Yes. Don’t talk.”

      When she wrapped herself around him and urged him deeper, he couldn’t hold back. He sank into the smooth hot depths, a shudder rippling over him as he held back the too-ready climax. He wanted hours with her…hours…

      Chelsea gasped when he carefully started moving, bringing her back to passionate intensity with his lips and his hands. Flames danced through her as she touched him in all the places he liked. She savored hearing his breath catch and his heart pound when she grew bold with her caresses.

      He laid his head on the pillow beside hers. “Wait,” he whispered. “We’re going too fast.”

      “I want you…now.”

      Catching her hands, he kissed the tip of her nose, a funny smile on his mouth. It was almost sad.

      “You were always impatient,” he scolded good-naturedly. He tousled her hair. “A little redheaded, green-eyed ginger cat who wanted it all right away.”

      “You