One Hot Christmas. Katherine Garbera

of pleasure.

      She opened her eyes and excitement gleamed there. “I feel so decadent.”

      “Good. That should make it all the better.” He sucked in air as she squeezed his cock hard. “Easy.”

      “You said we had to do this fast.”

      “Yeah.” His grin was tight. “But we should have a little bit of fun, first. I’ll lift you up and then you push yourself back down. I have a firm grip on you. You won’t fall.”

      “I know I won’t. I trust you.”

      “But you will come.”

      She held his gaze. “I know that, too.”

      “You have to be quiet, though.”

      She nodded. “You’re still wearing your hat.”

      “No good place to put it. You’re still wearing yours, too.” He smiled. “I kind of like having sex with a woman wearing a red knit hat. I’ve never done that before.”

      “And I kind of like having sex with a man wearing a Stetson. I’ve never done that before, either.”

      “Then here we go.” He eased her upward and she used the leverage gained from his shoulders to push back down. Dear God. He kept thinking that sex with her couldn’t be as good as he imagined, but then he’d bury himself in her again and realize that, yes, it was just that good.

      They established a tempo, one that slowly picked up as if by mutual consent. He watched her eyes darken and her lips part. Neither of them groaned or whimpered.

      Even their breathing, though it was rapid, seemed softer. Without words or moans filling the silence surrounding them, the rhythmic beat of his thrusting became the dominant sound. The quicker the beat, the more he throbbed with anticipation.

      Sweat trickled down his spine as he pumped faster. “Soon,” he murmured.

      She gulped. “Yes.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders. A tremor moved through her.

      “Come for me.” He squeezed her smooth bottom as he pushed her upward one last time.

      She shoved down again and he gasped as heat and motion swirled over his cock.

      He watched her climax reflected in her eyes. Dragging in a breath, he surged upward and claimed his own climax. Holding her steady as he pulsed deep inside her took all the strength he had. If she’d weighed an ounce more, he wouldn’t have been able to do it. She was perfect...so perfect.

      When he began to shake, she smiled gently. “You need to put me down.”

      He nodded, but he didn’t want to let her go. Easing away from her felt wrong. He wanted to carry her to the back of the tractor barn and find somewhere they could lie down and rest. Then they’d do it all again.

      Instead, he tucked his still-twitching cock back inside his briefs and zipped up. Then he pulled a bandana out of his pocket and handed it to her so she could clean up. She kept it.

      He didn’t know if she planned to wash it and return it or keep it as a souvenir. Either way worked for him. He helped her back into her jeans and slid her boot on.

      Once she was standing, he retrieved his coat and brushed the dust from the part that had come in contact with the tractor fender. The lining carried the subtle odor of sex, and that was fine with him, too. He put the coat on and breathed deep.

      Then he laid his hat on the newly dusted fender and gathered her into his arms for one long, lazy kiss. He didn’t want to leave the tractor barn without paying attention to her wonderful mouth.

      In a way, kissing her was more personal than having sex, although he couldn’t explain why. All he knew was that kissing Molly felt like a special privilege she’d granted him and he loved it. She responded with her signature enthusiasm. Apparently she enjoyed kissing him, too. Good to know.

      With great reluctance he finally pulled back. “We need to go.”

      “I’m sure we do.” She gazed up at him, her expression dreamy. “Your saddle is beautiful, but I doubt anyone would believe I spent this much time admiring it.”

      “Let’s hope no one was clocking us.” He stepped back but kept hold of both her hands. “I have such an urge to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off to...I don’t know. Somewhere with a soft surface.”

      “I have such an urge to let you do that.”

      “But this party is important for both of us. You flew here so you could help your aunt celebrate, and I’m pretty excited about how she’ll react to that saddle.”

      “She’ll love it, but we’d better get moving, cowboy.”

      “Yeah.” Squeezing her hands, he released her and picked up his hat.

      “I’ll get the wrenches.” She pulled them out from under each door and handed them to him.

      He put them back exactly where they’d been. Then he walked over to the doors. Just his luck, Jack’s red truck pulled up in front of the tractor barn. Ben swore softly under his breath and closed the door.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Jack just drove up.”

      “So what? You brought me to the barn for a quick look at the saddle. He doesn’t know how long we’ve been in here.”

      “No, but...” He surveyed her from head to toe. “You look well-kissed and extremely satisfied.”

      “You just think that because you know what we’ve been doing.”

      “I think that because it’s true. And your hat’s on crooked.”

      She straightened it. “Better?”

      “A little. You still look...ah, never mind.” One truck door slammed followed by a second. “Sounds as if Jack’s bringing someone with him.”

      Ben walked over to where the saddle was perched on its stand and whipped the blanket off right before the door opened. He turned with a smile of welcome as Jack came in with a woman who wore her blond hair in a long braid down her back. Probably Josie. “Hey, Jack! Heard you drive up. Pete said there was some trouble with the plumbing at Spirits and Spurs.”

      “There was, but it’s handled. Josie, this is Ben Radcliffe. Ben, my wife, Josie.” Jack’s tone was casual, but his gaze wasn’t as he glanced from Ben to Molly.

      “Pleased to meet you, Josie.” Ben focused on her and tried to ignore the fact that Jack was sizing up the situation.

      “Same here, Ben.” Josie looked over at Molly. “Guess you couldn’t stand the suspense either, huh?”

      “Nope.” Molly smiled. “And it’s a beauty.”

      Ben still thought she looked like the cat that ate the canary. Intuition told him Jack was picking up on it. Could be trouble ahead.

      Josie was protected from the cold like everyone else, in a bulky parka and a blue knit cap much like Molly’s red one. Fortunately she was there to see the saddle, and it seemed to absorb all her attention. “Oh, my.” She moved toward it and caressed the leather. “I’m no expert on saddles, but I’ve never seen one this pretty. Love the turquoise and silver accents.”

      “It’s designed to fit Bertha Mae perfectly,” Jack said. “We haven’t tested that, but—”

      “It’ll fit,” Ben said. “If it doesn’t, I’ll rebuild the saddle.”

      Josie’s blue eyes widened as she turned to stare at him. “You’d start over?”

      “If I have to. I stand by my work.”

      “I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Jack said. “We provided Bertha Mae’s measurements along with Mom’s measurements to make sure that the