Hell, she didn’t want to grow old only to have that ripped away in some cruel twist of fate that didn’t allow her or her soulmate to remember each other. Whoever came up with the idea that all the world needed was love forgot how painful it was to have a broken heart.
Love was for everyone else.
All she needed was the land and her animals.
And a good whiskey sour.
Boone yanked on her head. “That’s enough.” He pulled her to her feet and kissed her hard, shoving his tongue deep in her mouth, swirling it around, igniting a fire in her gut.
She gripped his shoulders for support as his hands swiftly removed her bra and panties.
Aggressively, he bent her over the vanity, holding her in place by her hips and catching her gaze in the mirror. His smoldering eyes were half covered by his thick lashes. His long hair fell over the sides of his face. He twisted her nipple with his thumb and forefinger. Tugging and turning it while he pressed his hardness up against her thigh.
She inhaled sharply, keeping her eyes locked on him, not wanting to break the trance he’d created. The heat passing between them would soon turn into an inferno. No way would anyone be able to put that fire out. It would have to run its course, and in the process, it would burn out of control.
He nudged his knee between her legs.
Gripping the vanity, she braced herself. It became impossible to completely fill her lungs with oxygen. When she tried, they burned. Her vision blurred and the room swayed as if she were riding the wildest of seas.
He nibbled on her shoulder and toyed with her clit as he slid inside her slowly. One single inch at a time.
She pushed back, rolling her hips.
“No,” he whispered, holding her steady. He eased himself all the way out before repeating the motion.
Her eyes fluttered closed. She dropped her head back against his chest. “You’re killing me,” she managed between breaths.
A slow smile appeared across his face. He ran his hand across the top of his head. His wavy hair fanned his face while his dark gaze promised he’d bring her over the edge, but not until he was good and ready.
And he wasn’t ready yet.
She swallowed, wiggling her tush, but he just took a step back. “You’re not playing fair.”
He thrust forward, and she bit down on her lower lip and arched her back, accepting his full length.
“Yes,” she said with a throaty moan.
Brushing her hair to the side, he kissed her neck.
Their bodies rocked against each other in one fluid motion. It was as if one were the ocean and the other the beach. The wave crashed into the sand, stretching for as long as the water could reach, pulling back out into the sea small specks of the shore, only to slam all the pieces back together in the next swell. With each break of the surf came an intense rush.
Passion and need collided like wind tearing through the branches of a tree, snapping them right off the trunk.
He pressed his palm against her stomach. His finger gently rubbing a circle over her clit while he stroked her insides.
She could barely breathe much less hold herself upright. Her knees buckled and she had to adjust her grip.
“You’re amazing.” He sucked on her earlobe, sending a hot shiver across her body. Her belly quivered, preparing her for what was about to come, only there was no way her system could be even a little bit ready. The build-up curled her toes and cramped her muscles.
“Please.” She reached between her legs, shoving his hand to the side, but he wouldn’t allow it as he grabbed both her hands and pressed them on the wood countertop.
He pumped faster and harder, but still took his time bringing her to where she needed to go.
“I’m begging,” she said, raising her hips, grinding against him. Her body demanded its just reward.
“Patience is a virtue.”
“I’m not virtuous,” she said.
He growled, thrusting hard. He grunted, slamming into her with such force, he knocked over the small lamp. It crashed to the floor, but thankfully didn’t break.
Not that she currently cared.
Raising up on tiptoe, she angled her body and dropped her forehead to the top of the dresser, smacking it with her fist. “Yes, yes, yes, Boone. Now.” Her gut twisted and flames erupted, spreading like wildfire over her skin. She could barely hold herself upright as another climax hammered her muscles, making them so tense she thought every single one cramped.
He swelled inside her, releasing his own orgasm with a loud groan. Fisting her hair, he tugged gently.
She lifted her head, catching his smoldering gaze in the mirror. A small shiver started at her temples, growing in intensity as it passed over her midriff and tickled her toes as goosebumps dotted her skin. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She did that ten times and still didn’t feel as though she’d caught her breath. And then her stomach growled.
He kissed her cheek. “I’m starving too.”
She laughed. “We did work up an appetite.”
“I’ll call the restaurant. What do you want?” Gently, he ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her neck and shoulders as he guided her to the bed, and lying down next to her, he covered their bodies with the throw blanket.
“A whiskey sour.”
“I already stocked this place with everything we need to make that for you, along with some good scotch for me.” He snagged the pillow and pounded it before stuffing it under his head. “So, this was your room when you were a little girl.”
“It hasn’t changed much.”
He cocked his head. “Really? It’s not very girly.”
“Have you met me?”
He laughed. “You might appear to be a tomboy, but you are all woman underneath; trust me on that point.”
“Well, I was never one for frills and I’m still not. I don’t do lace, and I own maybe three dresses.”
“But you do have a lot of cute little jean skirts. I’ve seen those. And I love how they ride just in the middle of your thigh, but I hate how other men look at your adorable ass.” He gave her a good, but gentle smack on the tush. “I’m really not a chauvinist pig. Really, I’m not. It’s just you really are the sexiest woman in any room.”
“I think I can forgive you the transgression this time as long as you make me a whiskey sour before you leave to get me a steak, medium, with sour cream and chives mashed potatoes with mixed veggies.”
“I can make all that happen.” He jumped to his feet, hiking up his jeans, his wild hair completely out of control. He tried to tame it with his fingers, but it didn’t help. He shook it like a dog, which only helped mildly.
Propping herself up on her elbows, she giggled.
“I’m glad you find this amusing, but if I go into the bar with sex hair and order to-go meals, I’m going to get harassed, and everyone’s going to want to know where and who I’m having dinner with.”
“There is a brush in the top drawer.” She patted the bed. “Get it and then sit down and I’ll fix it.” She adjusted herself, although, she let her breasts fall out of the blanket.
He turned and groaned. “Seriously? I might not go get dinner.”
“Yes. You will. Or you won’t get to touch these later tonight.” She took the brush he handed her and pointed to the bed. “Sit.” She raised her hand and fiddled with his thick, wavy hair.