A Buckhorn Summer. Lori Foster

of their previous acquaintance.

      He was also macho, a man’s man, easily meshing with her brother and cousin. How he’d looked...

      She drew in a shuddering breath, filling her lungs with country air, and again pictured him in her mind. Rugged beard stubble. Alert gray eyes, focused on her. Hair longer and more disheveled. Loose board shorts and laceless sneakers, his shirt open, his muscled, hairy chest bare.

      Damn, but her mouth watered, and she was so distracted she didn’t dock as smoothly as usual. A frog leaped away as she drew a line through the cleat on the dock and secured the boat. A few more deep breaths and, hiking her canvas tote bag over her shoulder, she climbed out of the boat.

      From the shadows of the gas pumps three docks down, a deep voice said, “I figured you’d come by water.” Shirtless, barefoot, wearing only trunks, he pushed to his feet and strode toward her. His dark hair was wet, slicked back, his sinner’s eyelashes spiked, his beard even more noticeable.

      He stopped only a few feet from her, his gaze taking a lazy stroll from her braided hair down her body to the flip-flops on her feet. “Whenever I thought of you—and I did, often—I saw you in a business suit, your hair contained, your look professional. I liked that look a lot, especially since it was so different from the woman you became in my room.”

      A wild woman, that’s what he meant, because that’s what she’d been. Her breath stalled. “Voices carry,” she whispered. “We can’t talk here on the lake.”

      He held out a hand and, feeling as risqué as she had that night a month ago, she took it. God, she remembered his hands, so big and strong, a little rough from work, but warm and gentle as they’d touched her. Everywhere.

      Silently he led her up to the store, and with each step she took, her heart jumped harder, faster. Low in her stomach, butterflies battled.

      She was thirty years old, but she’d never, not once, experienced desire like this. Only with him.

      One of the double doors stood open and as they stepped inside, Gray closed and locked it. Her breath caught and anticipation sharpened.

      No lights were on and without the sun coming through the windows, it remained dark...and intimate.

      He slowly backed her up to the wall and cupped one hand to the side of her face. “As I was saying.”

      Lisa felt his breath, the warmth of his big body, and had no idea what he was talking about.

      “I like seeing you in these short shorts, and I like your hair like this. You were sexy before, but now you’re earthy, too, and I want another taste.”

      After saying all that, he waited, giving her time.

      Lisa nervously, anxiously licked her bottom lip—and saw his gaze sharpen.

      “I remember you with short hair,” she whispered. “Clean-shaven, polished.” She reached up, smoothing back a lock of wet hair that had fallen over his brow. “Now your hair is shaggy, you’re already tanned, and this beard scruff...” She coasted her thumb over his bristly jaw, feeling the tease of that rasp deep inside herself. “Not only are you not in a dress shirt, you’re shirtless, and honestly, it’s making me a little nuts.”

      “Nuts is good.” He moved closer still but didn’t quite touch her. “I was waiting on you, remembering how it had been, thinking of how it could be again, and got myself so worked up that I had to jump in the lake to cool down.”

      Lisa smiled. Little by little, the same chemistry she’d felt that night in the bar came sneaking over her. “I was stunned to see you here.”

      He nodded. “Stunned, but pleased.” Both hands now cupped her face and he murmured huskily, “I’ve missed you.”

      It saddened her to say it, but they both needed a reminder of the truth. “You don’t even know me.”

      “Not true.” Gray slowly lowered his head until his nose touched her temple. “I know your scent, the feel of your skin, and how you taste.”

      His lips lightly grazed her cheek, making her shiver.

      Near her ear, he whispered, “I know the sounds you make when you come.”

      She released a shuddering, broken breath.

      “Yeah,” he said with satisfaction. “That’s how it starts.” He trailed his fingertips down her shoulder to her elbow, then under her breast and over her frantically pounding heartbeat. “It ends with sweet, rough, broken moans and you holding me tight until the pleasure is over.”

      The way he said it, she felt it. “Yes.”

      “I want it all. Again.”

      As his hand covered her breast, his palm teasing her nipple, she nodded and admitted the truth. “Me, too.”

      * * *

      “WE HAVE AN HOUR.” It wasn’t long enough, but it was better than nothing. He needed her. Bad.

      Right now.

      But she didn’t move. In fact, she seemed to be holding her breath.

      When he looked down at her, Gray saw her eyes closed, her bottom lip caught in her teeth, her expression sweetly agonized.

      He continued to cuddle her breast while raining small, damp kisses down her jaw and her throat to her shoulder. Jesus, she smelled good, like the fresh outdoors and musk and every fucking fantasy he’d ever had, all rolled into one.

      But damn it, she still didn’t say anything, and as bad as he wanted her, he wanted her to feel the same.

      Time to rein it in. Wasn’t easy, but he asked, “You need some time?”

      She nodded, then shook her head, then groaned. “I don’t know.”

      Well, that was answer enough. “It’s okay. I can wait.” It’d kill him. A dozen times over. But if that’s what she needed—

      “That night...” Her eyes opened, full of pleading confusion. “That wasn’t me.”

      “It wasn’t me, either.” He dropped both hands to her waist—safer territory—and put his forehead to hers. “It was just...right. The right time, the right person.” He had to kiss her, just once, so he did. Not too deep, but far from a peck. And far from satisfying. “The right thing to do—for both of us.”

      “I’ve never done anything like it before.”

      For a novice, she’d been damn good. Great. Mind-blowing, in fact. “I don’t exactly make a habit of it, either.” He smiled, realizing something. “I like your name.”

      Her laugh was muffled against his throat. “I like yours, too.”

      “I meant what I said.” With two fingers under her chin, he brought her face up. “It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

      She nodded. “This is my home, Gray. My entire family is here.”

      “I know. Everywhere I go, I trip over one of them.” He kissed her again, all the while telling himself he had to stop that. Except that she kissed him back and damn, that nearly killed his resolve not to push her. He eased back, a little more breathless. Harder. “I like them.”

      Dazed, her gaze on his mouth, she asked, “Who?”

      So cute. So fucking hot. Eventually she’d be his again. He had to believe that. “Your family.”

      “Oh. Right. Yeah, they’re all terrific.” Rubbing at her forehead, she admitted, “None of them would ever expect this of me. I’ve been so singularly focused on my career, I never made much time for relationships.”

      He paused—and she shot her gaze to his.

      “Not that this is a relationship. God, no. I mean...”

      He loved how she blushed.

      A