Rancher Wants a Wife by Kate Bridges Page B

say. Then it was gone, his dashing face awash in a wicked glimmer of arousal and expectation. There were the mischievous dark eyes, the sensual mouth, the dimple in his chiseled jaw and the primal need she detected in the hurried pace of his breathing.
    He draped his trousers on the back of a chair, followed by his gray waistcoat, then crisp linen shirt. She barely had the nerve to watch him, but then could barely turn away.
    Stripped naked for a brief, glorious moment, he epitomized sexuality and rough strength. His chest rippled with muscles, his waist tapered to his hips, and his erection was so hard and upright she wondered how on earth they were supposed to fit together.
    She stared, trying to fulfill her curiosity. So that’s what it looked like, the male part of him....
    Embarrassed that she was staring, she reached for a cake of soap and slid it over her arm. How did a woman jump from being a virgin and shielding her most private parts from the eyes of men, to gain full acceptance and awareness of herself?
    How was she supposed to be comfortable with this?
    “Are you all right?” he asked, slipping one muscled leg into the tub, then the other. The hot water sloshed around them, nearly splashing over the top edge.
    “It’s just that I’m not used to this.” She pretended to scrub dirt from her forearm.
    “May I?” He took the soap from her, letting the bar slide between their fingers, ever so slippery and wet. “Relax,” he coaxed. “I won’t hurt you.”
    He rubbed the cake up and down her arms, then the top of her shoulders, then down one breast. The cool soap slid over her areola, the sensation making the bud of her nipple swell. He moved the soap to her other side, then used his bare hands to lather her breasts. She inhaled in pleasure, leaned back and allowed him to caress her. She closed her eyes a moment, then felt the warmth of his mouth on her breasts.
    The heat was incredible, the pull of wanton desire throbbing from her breasts to her stomach, making the center of her quiver with anticipation.
    He teased her for a long time with his fingers, swirling them over her, down her arm, up the other one, across her collarbone and down her cleavage. He created a slowly building heat, until she was ready for so much more.
    She opened her eyes and he approached, sliding on top of her, his large body on her slender one, splashing water over the tub edge and barely noticing. His mouth came down on hers.
    Finally, a kiss.
    It was soft and gentle. She’d gone too long without this, without a man in her life, without someone who wanted her.
    The kiss didn’t last nearly long enough before he dragged his mouth along her left jaw and kissed her there, and down her neck. She gasped when he came back up the other side, over her jaw and pressed his rough cheek against her scarred one. It felt so intimate that she stopped breathing for a moment.
    Then he ran his large hand along her waist and trailed down her hip and leg, making her burn with a splendorous promise that more was coming, soon to be hers.
    The yearning. That shivery race of gooseflesh that rose and heaved. His hand was gliding farther down and over, and soon would reach...
    Oh, he was there. That magnificent spot. He slid and stroked and pressed, slid and stroked and pressed, and just as she was ready, he lifted her out of the tub so her hips were raised up to his mouth, and he pressed his lips upon her.
    It was exhilarating, the pleasure he brought. She was too alarmed, too surprised to fight it. His expert maneuvers were daunting. How did he know what she liked, what she wanted?
    His hot breath, the excitement of his tongue, his fervor. His moaning, “I’ve waited so patiently all day, Cassandra....”
    She exploded beneath the hot sensations of his mouth, his expert tongue and expert kisses. Then as the spasms waned, he lowered her back into the water and pressed himself closer.
    He slid his shaft inside her, causing a sharp pang of pain. When she