Barbara Dunlop - Thunderbolt over Texas

“It’s none of my business,” she said.

“Of course it’s not. But we’re playing this silly game.” He took a breath. “Ah, Sydney. We should have known it would get complicated.”

She gave him a nod and a hesitant smile, and he found himself easing closer. He inhaled deeply, filling his senses.

Her lips were burgundy in the lamplight. Her emerald eyes were fringed by thick lashes. Her skin was ivory-smooth, flushed from the walk. And the memory of it was indelibly pressed into the nerves of his fingertips.

Unable to stop himself, he smoothed a lock of hair from her forehead.

“Complicated,” he whispered one more time.

Her lips parted, softly, invitingly. He should have known the second he got her alone, he’d give in to the cravings. He cupped her cheeks, pulling her closer. His lips closed over hers and relief roared through his body.

He’d been watching her all day, wanting her all day. She was under his skin and into his brain in a way that he couldn’t control.

He kissed her harder, stepping toward her, pressing her back against the door. A bronc had blasted off inside him, and there was nothing he could do but hang on for the ride.

He tipped his head to find a better angle, and she came alive under his hands, all movement and sound and scent.

This was good. This was right. This was more than he’d ever found in any other woman. He stopped thinking about the Thunderbolt. He stopped thinking about Katie. He stopped thinking about plots and plans and deceptions.

There was only Sydney, her taste and her touch.

“Cole,” she breathed, her fingertips tightening on his shoulders.

“I know.” He kissed her eyelids.

“This is complicated.”

“This is inevitable.”

She paused for a second. “Maybe.”

“Absolutely.” He slipped his hand under her shirt, skimming across the small of her back. Her skin was sinfully warm, sinfully soft. She was a treasure he hadn’t earned and didn’t deserve.

“We can stop,” he whispered reassuringly, kissing his way along the crook of her neck. “You say when.”

“Not yet,” she whispered back.

“Thank God,” he sighed.

Her hand inched its way slowly up between them and, one by one, she popped the buttons on his shirt. When the last one gave way, she burrowed inside the fabric.

He kissed the top of her head and rocked her in his arms. He wanted to carry her to his bed, press himself against her-kiss her, talk to her, make love with her, simply breathe the same air. Whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it.

She kissed his chest, her hot tongue flicking out to sear his skin.

He struggled for air as passion commandeered his senses. “We’re pushing it,” he warned.

She kissed him again. “Let’s push it further.”

He pulled back and gazed down at her. Her lips were swollen, her eyes were slumberous and her hair was tousled out like a halo.

“You want to make love?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

She smoothed her palms up the front of his chest. “You’re right. It’s inevitable.”

Sydney held her breath, wondering if Cole might actually refuse.

“I want you so bad,” he said instead.

Her breath whooshed out. “You had me worried there for a second, cowboy.”

He shook his head, smoothing back her hair. “Don’t you worry. Don’t you ever worry.”

Something settled deep inside her and her worries vanished.

Cole had to be the most honest and honorable man she’d ever met. Yeah, he was getting in her way over the Thunderbolt. But he was doing it out of respect for his family.

Unlike the men she’d dated in New York, unlike some of her colleagues and contacts at the museum, everything she’d seen, everything he’d done, told her Cole was a man to be trusted.

She’d missed trust.

She’d missed honor.

She wanted him and he wanted her. It didn’t get much more honest than that.

She focused on the feel of his rough palm against her scalp. His eyes burned smoky-blue, and she felt like the most desirable woman in the world. Her lashes grew heavy and she tilted her head into the sensation of Cole.

His palm cupped her face and he kissed her eyes. Her body felt as if it were drifting on air, soaring up to the ceiling. The dying fire gave off a faint, distinct tang. The creek roared over boulders outside the window, and Cole left trails of shooting sparks wherever he touched.

She tasted his salty skin, then she squeezed his hard body tighter and tighter until she was safe and surrounded by his warmth. He lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Nobody had ever carried her before. He started to walk, and she was sorry the bedroom was so close.

“Hold me for a minute,” she said when they got there.

His arms flexed. “No problem.”

She sighed against his chest. “You think you could stop time? Right here? Right now?”

“I wish I could.”

“Try really, really hard.”

His chuckle rumbled through her. “I can go slow.”

“Easy for you, maybe.”

“Nope. Not easy at all.”

“But you’d do it for me?”

“I’ll do anything for you. Just say the word.”

Let me into your world, she wanted to say. Not just your bed, but your heart and your soul.

But that was impossible. They had here and now, and that was all. She forced a light note into her voice.

“Get naked.”

“Okay. But that might speed things up a little.”

“Or I could get naked.”

“That would be worse.” His voice sounded strangled.

She struggled to push his shirt from his shoulders. “Let’s play with fire.”

He slowly lowered her feet to the floor. “Sydney, I’ve been playing with fire since the first second I laid eyes on you.”

She took a shaky step back and reached for the hem of her T-shirt. He stared down at her with such longing and reverence that a shudder ran straight through her body. She peeled the shirt over her head, gauging his reaction, loving his reaction.

His nostrils flared and his gaze latched onto her lacy bra. Without a word, he shucked his own shirt.

She stared unabashedly at the play of muscles across his chest. “You think we want this so bad, because we know we shouldn’t?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It probably has nothing to do with the way you look, taste, smell or feel.”

“That’s it.”

“That’s what?”

“The way you smell.”

“It’s bad?”

She shook her head, gliding toward him, burying her face in his chest again. “It’s good. So good.”

He reached between their bodies and flicked the button on her jeans. “You, too.”

She smiled and went on her toes, kissing his mouth as he lowered her zipper. “Let’s not tell anyone,” she said.

“That we made love?”

She shook her head. “The smell secret.”

“You got it.”

He rolled off her pants then got rid of his own. Then he gently pressed her back on the bed, covering her with kisses, whispering words of reverence and encouragement, sending her heart rate soaring and her hormones into overdrive.

His fingertips skimmed her stomach, circling her navel with a featherlight touch that made her breath come in a gasp and her muscles contract. Before she could adjust to the sensation, he bent over her breast, taking one nipple into his mouth, swirling and circling the crest with his tongue.

She moaned, and her hands went to his hair. Sensations rocketed through her body as his teeth raked her tender flesh and his hand began a downward spiral.

This wasn’t going to be slow. It was going to be lightning fast if she didn’t do something.

“Cole,” she gasped.

“You’re delicious,” he answered, fingers dipping lower, increasing the onslaught of sensation.

“Slow…down…” she begged.

She felt his smile. “No way.” He crossed the downy curls and pressed into her in one swift motion.

Her hips came up off the bed, and her hands convulsed against his head. “Cole,” she wailed.

“Go with it,” he said.

“But…”

He moved to look into her eyes, his fingers pulsing in a way that made her world shift to the exquisite touch on her tender, moist flesh. She flexed her hips. He kissed her mouth.

“There’s more to come,” he rumbled against her. “I promise.”

She closed her eyes. She was past the point of resisting. Past the point of coherent thought. She was going where he led her, and there was no way to stop it.

Her world roared, then went silent.

They were skin to skin, soul to soul as he eased inside her. True to his word, he took it slow, watching her closely, gauging her desires. Their breathing synchronized as the corner clock ticked away minutes.

A warm rush of sensation crested up from her toes. He smiled and deepened his kiss, increasing his rhythm until her world imploded, the clock’s ticks slowed to a crawl and paradise stretched on and on.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, guilt nipping at her conscience. Nobody had ever done that before. No one had ever set aside their own needs to take her to paradise.

As the power of speech returned, she searched his deep eyes, worried that he’d made some stupid, gentlemanly decision against making love. “We’re not…uh…stopping, are we?”

He shook his head and brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, shifting so that his big body covered hers. “Oh, sweetheart. We’re just getting started.”

He kissed her mouth. His thumb returned to her breast and, against all odds, her desire instantly rallied.

She ran her hands down his back, sliding them onto his taut buttocks and pressing his erection against her stomach, shivering with anticipation. She kissed his harder, swirling her tongue against his.

He opened wide, and she could feel the tension rising in his muscles.