What she should do was back away and find somewhere else to sleep.
What she did was stand motionless for far, far too long, simply staring.
Time had only made him more delicious. His face was mostly scrunched into the pillow, but his lips were visible. Strong and full, they parted slightly, a soft rumble an uncharitable person would describe as a snore escaping him.
She didn’t need to see his eyes to remember the pale blue shade. Didn’t need to see him awake to recall his all too brief smiles, always accompanied by a spark in his eyes, as if he were astonished that she’d pulled an expression from him other than his usual gruff visage.
Nope, memory painted plenty of pictures for the parts she couldn’t see. The parts she could? Holy mother. Tucker had packed on muscle in the three years since she’d seen him last.
Triceps defined even in sleep, his visible forearm was dusted with a faint layer of light brown hair. His big hand pressed to the mattress where his strong fingers were splayed as if ready to cup her breast.
His big, talented hands. Ones Ginny had enjoyed feeling him run all over her. Broad shoulders that she’d dug her nails into as they’d shot together toward a sweaty, dirty, overwhelmingly pleasurable peak.
The curve of his hip teased her vision, one thigh pulled up to protect more delicate body parts. The hollow of shadow that hid his groin made her smile and lift her focus to the star of the show. His ass, the sheet shoved far enough aside to showcase every muscular dip and the straight row of dots scarring his right butt cheek.
Which was how she’d recognized him. Ahem.
She’d not only enjoyed seeing his naked ass up close and personal before, but she’d been there when her older brother Luke had given Tucker that scar. Twelve years old and pretending they were hosting a magical duel, Tucker had reacted to Luke’s spell with determination, throwing himself backward only to unknowingly land full force on a rake.
Tucker was no longer that youngster. Nor the teenager she’d followed after like a love-struck puppy. Not even the serious young man she’d finally convinced she was grown up enough to know what she wanted—which included wild, vigorous sex with him.
Long lean lines, bare skin she wanted to touch…
She must have made a noise, because he woke. His body tightened, which did wonderful things to his ass.
He rolled. Ginny forced her gaze off the tempting bits—parts. That was not a bit—coming into prime display, shifting to meet his eyes.
Tucker blinked, then blinked again, as a dark smolder twisted into place.
“Ginny Stone. Well, well, well. Merry Christmas to me.”
2
What a tempting present to show up on his doorstep.
Tucker Stewart curled upright, taking his time to enjoy the vision standing motionless in the doorway of his trailer bedroom.
Luscious was the first word that struck, followed rapidly by beautiful and then holy fucking hell, because he was totally up shit creek without a paddle.
It had been three years since he’d seen her in person. From eight years old onward, he’d spent most of his summers at Silver Stone ranch, in theory to spend time with his uncle. The truth was probably a lot more tangled than that, but it had meant he had years to build friendships with the Stone children. Especially Luke and Walker, but also the four-years-younger-than-him Ginny and her best friend, Dare.
A few years in the not-so-distant past, something far more physical than simple friendship had developed with the woman before him.
Pictures of Ginny had shown up on his phone plenty over the past couple of years, forwarded in notes from Luke or Walker as they tried to keep him up to date with where and what their little sister was doing. The messages had made him ache and made him happy. Except for the timeframe where she’d bleached her hair some godawful pink and white shade, and all he could think of was shaking her and telling her to stop messing with perfection.
Thankfully, her hair was now back to its natural deep brown tone, long and curling around her pale shoulders.
Natural, like the full, heavy breasts pressed against the thin material of her tank top. He kept going before he got hypnotized by her nipples tightening under the fabric.
The top stopped just past her hips, the icy blue of her underwear peeking from underneath like a tempting X marks the spot.
Long legs with ample curves and muscles all the way down to where the pale pink polish on her toes highlighted the delicacy of her feet.
Damn if he didn’t want to eat her up one bite at a time. He’d start at the bottom, get lost in the middle for a long while, then gorge himself on her full lips when he finally made it that far.
A mouth that twisted at the corners more and more the longer he stared.
She folded her arms over that gorgeous chest and met his gaze. “I’m pretty sure my sister-in-law didn’t mean for me to find a naked man in my bed. Either that, or she’s now my favourite person in the whole wide world.”
“Which sister-in-law?”
“Tamara.”
“She probably doesn't know I’m here,” Tucker admitted. Being amused was dangerous, but the sensation was pretty unavoidable around Ginny. The damn woman had a way of making him lose all mental clarity. “You mind if I get dressed, or do you plan on joining me?”
He’d meant it as a joke, but from the way her eyes lit up—fuck.
Nope. Cutting this one off at the pass…
“Back up, Ginny, and let me get some clothes on,” Tucker ordered.
Instead, she stepped closer, gaze dropping to dangerous territory. “But I’m ready for bed.”
The husky words stroked his cock as firmly as if she’d used her hands.
Screw this. Ignoring the fact he was naked as a jaybird, he moved decisively. Tossed back the covers and slid toward her. A second later he was on his feet, the fronts of their torsos in full contact. Which meant his instantly hard dick pressed to the softness of her belly, and he flashed back to times and places that should never have happened.
But damn if he didn’t relive them far, far too often.
Control. Get your goddamned self under control.
He caught her shoulders and kept her right there, skin to skin, heat to heat. It was torture of the most delectable kind. Especially when she stared with that hint of challenge and bravado that pushed his every damn button.
“Having you under me would make for one hell of a perfect evening. Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.” Tucker trailed his knuckles over her cheek slowly, then traced her lush mouth with a fingertip. “Only you’d better hope no one in your family gets it into their heads to stop in, because I’m not about to lie to their faces if we get caught burning up the sheets. No more keeping this thing between us quiet.”
The sigh that escaped rocked her entire body, but she stepped back and let him pass. “You play mean,” she complained.
“You’re the one who rightly insisted anything we did was our business and no one else’s,” he reminded her. “But secrets don’t stay secret if we’re caught in flagrante delicto.”
“You’re right. Also, stop showing off your damn intellect.” But she snickered, gaze still firmly on him as he pulled on a pair of old sweatpants that would have to double as pyjama bottoms. “Looking good, Tucker.”