“Would you relax?” He lifts one of my hands to his lips and gently kisses it. “You’re a terrific writer. Seriously. I couldn’t stop turning the pages.”
“You mean that?” I croak in disbelief.
“Yes, ma’am, I surely do. And when it came to the hot scenes?” He blows out a long whistle. “I’ve gotta hand it to your imagination. Unless all those things actually happened …”
He gets a tiny smack for that.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I made almost all of that up. The situations were inspired by real life, but most of the sex came from up here.” I tap my head.
“Most of it?”
“You want specific examples?”
“No, not necessarily. Just curious how much of our time together will be read by thousands of people.”
“You worried I won’t do you justice?”
“I don’t worry about that. I worry your editor will think you’re handing her erotica instead of your usual romance.”
I shouldn’t laugh. The situation is way too serious. Too sexy, too full of promise. I manage to hold most of it back—only a snicker squeaks out. “Believe me, she wouldn’t think that was a problem.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Challenge accepted.”
We’re both too stuffed right now to even think about that though. It doesn’t need to be said. I slip off my shoes, and he takes his off at my urging.
“I can’t lie, those shoes start to hurt once you’ve been wearing them all day. I’m much more comfortable in a pair of boots.”
“I would like to see you out there, on the ranch, in your natural element.”
“I would like you to see me there.” His fingers find mine, winding around them. “That’s where I feel most myself. Not in a boardroom or an office. Out on the land, training horses.”
“What’s that like?”
“You have to get the horse to trust you, and then it takes patience. We like to start with young horses, around age two. We have to teach them the lead changes and riding cues. It’s usually best to start racing them at five.”
“Racing? I thought they just bucked?”
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t clear before. I train them for barrel racing. We have to condition them like one would an athlete. It’s tough on them, so we take our time and make sure they’re ready.”
“Wow, it’s amazing to think of them as athletes.”
“Yes. And when I have to go into the office, I have to hand the training over to my mentor. I miss seeing the progress the horses make while I’m away.”
“I bet. You know, I’ve never been to a rodeo.”
“Never?” he asks incredulously.
I shake my head. “Maybe I can attend one sometime,” I hint.
“When you come to Texas, I’ll make sure you get to see one.”
“So, do you ever have to swing a lasso?” I pretend to do that, swinging my arm over my head. Gently since I’m still holding wine in that hand. The other one is clasping his, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
“Sometimes. If a horse gets out of line.”
“Oh, and what would you do to me if I got out of line?” I flirt, setting my wine down.
“Oh, I can think of a few things I could do with some rope to keep you just where I needed you.”
We’re both smiling as we lean in for a kiss, which quickly turns into more. We’re not out in the hall this time. We’re not on a park bench.
And I’m not wearing pants like I was last night.
His hand runs up my thigh while his tongue plunges into my mouth. I don’t mind either. In fact, I wrap my leg around his to draw him closer, to show him I want more.
“What was that you were saying about a challenge accepted?” I manage before gasping when his fingertips graze the hem of my panties.
He’s laughing as he lifts me straight up off the couch with no effort. There is something so insanely sexy about being so easily handled, knowing he’s strong enough to pick me up and carry me off.
In this case, he’s carrying me off to the bedroom, my legs wrapped around him, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to let go.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Amazing, what a good lay will do for a girl’s outlook.
Is it just me, or is the sun a little brighter today? Are the birds singing a little louder? Is their song sweeter? The morning after Paxton’s visit, I might as well be a cartoon princess, floating through the apartment. If a cheerful squirrel randomly came in through the window to help me with the chores, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Nothing can stop me today. Even my writing flows smoothly, thanks to the inspiration Paxton provided last night.
Repeatedly.
The man is healthy; I’ll give him that. Maybe there’s something in the water down in Texas, or maybe it’s all that hard work he’s put in over the years. His body is used to working for hours on end, on the rigs. A little thing like sex must seem like a vacation in comparison.
Though the sex was no little thing. He’s no little thing either. I can’t help but laugh to myself when I imagine what Maggie would have to say if I were crude and trashy enough to describe him in detail.
I might have to share that kind of in-depth information with Hayley, and she’s about the only person in the world I would ever consider gossiping with like that.
When noon rolls around, I’m almost proud of myself for having remembered my lunch date with Matt. Granted, I’m not completely sure it’s a good idea for us to get together today—he was still acting sort of funny when he was over here last—but it’s not like our relationship hasn’t hit bumps before.
“I’m starting to think you offered to buy lunch today for an excuse to hang out with the dog.” He doesn’t sound disapproving when he makes this observation.
“You know me too well.”
He grins at Phoebe, who’s sitting between us and looking hopeful. “So, how did it go last night?”
And there it is. Why does he have to do this? If I were a dog like Phoebe, my hackles would go up at the mere mention of last night because I know what he’s really driving at. He wants details. He wants to tease and torment me.
And then there’s the fact that I get the feeling he doesn’t like Paxton very much, though I’m not sure why. Is there something he’s not telling me? Would that be such a surprise? Frankly, no matter how well we’ve gotten to know each other, there are still many mysteries surrounding my neighbor that I haven’t come close to cracking yet.
With a smile, I ask, “What happened last night? Why would you ask that?”
He digs around with his chopsticks, snickering. “Oh, so that’s how we’re going to play it.”
“Play what? Who’s playing?”
“You know as well as I do that I could hear his voice from my apartment. Remember, thin walls?”
Ugh, I can never hide anything from him.
He cocks an eyebrow. “So? How did it go?”
Part of me wants to lash out, to tell him he knows damn well how it went if he could hear so clearly from across the hall. I tried as hard as I could to keep things quiet, and for the most part, I succeeded. But there are times when a girl can’t contain herself, and one of those times is when she’s in the throes of passion.