The Ranch Hand by Hannah Skye Page B

him, her eyes wide, her heart pounding away. His eyes were so big, so fierce with emotion, that winter-storm gray that seemed to stare right into the core of her. Then, when he seemed certain he had every bit of her attention, he kissed her.
    His lips were shockingly warm. She pressed against him. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her closer against the hard outline of his body, against muscles strong and tight from ranch work. She closed her eyes, savoring his lips, while the snowflakes blew against her face and melted. Her anger melted with them. She didn’t know what would come after, but for now she’d enjoy this moment to the fullest.
    At last he broke the kiss, leaving the two of them panting. She touched her lips and smiled, almost shyly. “You better not tell me that was another goodbye kiss. Because if so, I’m not leaving.”
    He mirrored her smile. “Come back inside, Carol. Please.”
    It was the please that sealed the deal. “What took you so long, cowboy?” she whispered.
    “I had to put my boots on.”
    She laughed. Together they walked back to his trailer, his arm around her shoulders, and her snuggled up against his side. Her heart was still beating fast. Her thoughts zipped around her brain, too quick to be meaningful. She was nervous and excited at the same time, unable to settle between the two, but desire trumped them both, the heat pooling low in her groin, a tightening ache that tingled from her lips through every pleasure center in her brain and across her body.
    She wanted him. The knowing was simple, her need overriding anything else. She wanted to be warm with him, wanted his lips on her again, his hands exploring her body, every curve and fold.
    He’d left the camper trailer door open in his haste to reach her. Snow had blown in around the doorway, turning to slush in the hot air blowing from the heater. Inside again, they stood in the tiny front room of the camper, staring at one another as the snow melted on them. There were flakes of it in his eyebrows. She wanted to lick them away. It took all her self-control to stop from doing so. Instead she turned to face him, still in his arms, but back far enough to look into his eyes. First there was business between them.
    “Do you know what you want?” she asked, watching him, waiting, her heart in her throat.
    “I want to be done talking and I want to start kissing you.”
    She started to reply, but he kissed the words back into her mouth. When he finally let her go again, his voice was a growl. “I could kiss you all night.”
    Pleasure at his words washed through her. “I’m greedy. I want more than kissing.”
    “That right?”
    “That’s right, cowboy.”
    His smile was slow and wicked. “You need these wet clothes off you.”
    “I wouldn’t want to catch a cold.” She shucked out of her jacket and boots. Then she stepped on a patch of snow melting on the mat and sucked in breath at the icy wetness soaking through her sock.
    He watched her as he yanked off his own jacket and boots. His eyes were so intense they seemed to burn along her skin. She began to unbutton her blouse with trembling fingers. He reached for her and took her hands, gently, in both of his and then pushed them away from her blouse. Slowly, he began to undo her buttons. His gaze seared her, he was so focused on the skin being revealed inch by inch. He reached the final one and slipped it free. Her shirt hung open, covering her breasts but revealing to him only a narrow stripe of her chest and stomach. Softly he touched her there, tracing a finger across her flat midriff, skirting lower toward the edge of her jeans. Flutters of desire rippled down toward her pussy and her thighs clenched. She was breathing faster.
    He kissed her again, slow and sensuously, touching her only with his lips and drawing it out until she was nearly delirious for his touch. Then he drew her blouse back over her shoulders, down along her arms. She let it fall to the ground