Safe In The Rancher's Arms: Stranded with the Rancher / Sheltered by the Millionaire / Pregnant by the Texan. Catherine MannЧитать онлайн книгу.
long will that be?”
He parted the folds of her sex with his thumbs. Her back arched instinctively.
“I’ll let you know,” he muttered.
After that, conversation halted in favor of sheer, carnal pleasure. Drew’s expertise was unmistakable. He touched her reverently, like a man examining a newfound treasure.
When she wanted him to go fast, he slowed down. When she craved more pressure, he gave her butterfly caresses. Pleasure built. Wanting multiplied. Her climax hit with the force of a thunderstorm, drenching her with delirium.
She reached for him. “Drew. Drew....”
He did what had to be done and moved between her legs, sliding his hands beneath her thighs and opening her even further to his possession. Feeling the blunt head of his sex as he pushed into her was in some ways more frightening than the tornado. How could she survive this? She had been halfway in love with him for months, disguising her silly unrequited crush as indifference.
Apparently, one of the reasons she had argued with him about her produce stand and her customers was to keep him coming back again and again. How pathetic was that? She’d lied to herself and not even seen the truth. If it had not already been far too late for second thoughts, she might have run from the room. With every stroke of his body inside hers, he left his imprint. She would never be the same.
But as he loved her slowly and tenderly, fear gave way to wonder and hesitation became assurance. Nothing so wonderful could be a mistake. She gave herself up to the deep, drugged pleasure of his lovemaking.
Muscles bunched in his arms as he struggled to keep his weight off her. “Tell me you won’t regret this,” he demanded.
“I came to you, remember?”
“Doesn’t matter. I see your eyes. You’re already running scared.”
His perspicacity embarrassed her. She couldn’t deny the truth.
So she arched her back, driving him a fraction deeper, clenching his hard length with inner muscles. “I’m here now. Don’t stop, Drew. Please.” She teetered on the brink of a spectacular finish.
His answer was to give her everything she wanted. No more nuances. No more time for talk. He was big and hard and determined to push her off the ledge. “Come for me, darlin’,” he muttered.
She did as he asked, but only because she had no choice. If she had ever experienced such pure, crystalline pleasure, she couldn’t remember it. The ripples went on and on, leaving her breathless and lost.
Drew was seconds behind her, his climax signaled by a harsh shout and thrusting hips. With her legs wrapped around his waist, Beth clung to his wide shoulders and held on as her universe tumbled out of control.
Drew lay perfectly still, waiting for his thundering heartbeat to return to a normal cadence. Beth had fallen asleep immediately, worn out by their long day and his crazed lovemaking. As promised, he had taken her more than once—the second time sitting in an armchair with Beth straddling his lap, and finally, bending her over the foot of the bed and making the last coupling slow and sweet.
By all rights, he should be exhausted as well. But adrenaline pumped through his veins. Being with Beth tonight had been far more than physically gratifying. The connection they forged had opened his eyes to what was missing in his life. Falling in love with a woman had been something for the future...the kind of thing a man did when he was ready to settle down.
Apparently, unbeknownst to him, love had grown in spite of his self-deception. As incredible as it seemed, his frequent trips to Beth’s place of business had been about far more than her patrons spooking his horses.
He had been irresistibly drawn to her spirit and her beauty. The storm’s wrath had ripped away wood and metal and shingles, but it had also laid bare an astonishing truth. Drew Farrell had feelings for Beth Andrews. Deep, messy emotions.
Her head lay pillowed on his shoulder. He combed her curls with one hand as contentment slid through his veins like honey. Tomorrow she would probably fuss about how her hair looked because she had not dried it. But Drew liked the wild tangle. It was a reflection of the intimacy they had shared.
She had let down her guard with him tonight. For a woman so fiercely independent, he understood very well what a gift she offered. They had met as equals and by her choice. What he didn’t know was the outcome of tonight’s excess.
Tomorrow would be the test. Would he see the real Beth, or would the walls be up once again?
* * *
Beth awoke at first light, disoriented, but very relaxed. It took a handful of seconds for reality to come crashing in. Drew’s room. Drew’s bed. Drew’s big, muscular body wrapped around hers.
What have I done?
The wanting had been building for over a year. No surprises there. But why had she acted on it? Why now?
She could tell herself it was because of the storm or because she was staying in Drew’s house or even because she was lonely and displaced. But the truth was far simpler. Yesterday, she had felt the relentless pull of sexual need, and she had given in. Not only that, she had wallowed in it without shame or regret.
The truth was shocking but impossible to ignore.
Gingerly, she lifted his heavy arm and scooted away from him. He stirred, grumbling, but buried his face in his pillow and continued to sleep.
Fortunately, gathering her things was not an issue. One shirt. That was it. One shirt to protect her modesty as she scuttled back to her room. She had no idea how early the household staff arrived, but surely not at this hour.
When she made it without incident to the relative safety of her own suite, she debated what to do. It would probably be a good idea to wet her hair and dry it again before getting dressed. But a yawn caught her by surprise. It had been a harrowing three days. Removing her one item of clothing, she tossed back the covers on the decadently luxurious bed and climbed naked beneath the sheets.
It was a warm autumn in Texas, but the crisp cotton felt chilled after snuggling with Drew all night. Her body was pleasurably sore as she settled into a comfy spot. Remembering Drew’s attentions was not a good idea. After a long hiatus, her libido was alive and well.
Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the numbing drug of sleep. She had acted rashly, impulsively, totally without forethought. The results had been amazing, but it was time to retreat and regroup.
She knew now what it was like to be with Drew. It was good. Really good. Before she got in too deeply, she had to set some ground rules for herself. Drew’s amicability was only temporary. When she was living in her house again, they would revert to the same impasse. Drew had the time and the money and the determination to badger her until she gave in to his wishes. Plus, the storm had weakened her resolve and her certainty about the farm as her life’s work.
Equally depressing was the fact that Audie would always be a millstone around her neck. She came from questionable roots. Everyone in the horse business knew that breeding was everything.
Even if a tornado had thrown Beth and Drew together—literally—they had nothing in common but sharing a frightening ordeal. That wasn’t enough on which to build a relationship.
After an hour of tossing and turning, she gave up and got out of bed. Perhaps a hot shower would settle her jangled emotions. The prospect of coming face to face with Drew made her ridiculously nervous. What would she say to him?
She dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a comfortable sky blue polo shirt. No need to make a good impression. There was work to be done.
After a quick call to her insurance agent to follow up on Allen’s report, she went in search of breakfast.