Page 50 of Single All the Way

“Sure, I’ll take some. It’s been a day.”

“I second that.” I laughed at the understatement as I filled a second glass.

“Berty let me know the kids did great. I hope she’s still saying that tomorrow morning,” he said.

“Right? The woman is a saint.”

I handed him his glass and picked up my own. Holding it up, I said, “To surviving.”

“To saving horses and llamas,” he said as he clinked.

We both took a sip, then our gazes caught, and the energy in the room changed. Ben set his glass on the counter and held out his hand, palm up. I put mine in his, my pulse picking up. Even though he’d just come in from outside, his hand was warm, strong, rough.

“I know you’re not a fan of llamas, Ems, so I appreciate what you did all the more,” he said in a low voice that resonated right through to my core.

“She gritched at me the whole way home,” I said, stepping closer, “but we made it through.”

“She groans sometimes in the van. I think she’s voicing her displeasure at losing her freedom.” He smiled. “She’s a pain in the ass, but I love that fucking llama.”

I laughed quietly, distracted by the way his blue eyes were so focused on me, so intent. For once there were no kids anywhere in the vicinity. The llamas and horses and chickens were taken care of for the night. The cats were sacked out again in the living room. With the dogs outside, it was just the two of us and a tangible tension arcing between us.

I set my wineglass on the counter, my eyes never leaving his, and stepped closer yet. Somehow our other hands became entwined, and I took it as a green light. Before I could second-guess myself, I went up on my toes and pressed my lips to his.

As our mouths connected, a spark of need shot through me, my insides going liquid and hot. I let go of his hands and grasped the back of his neck, pressing my breasts into his hard chest. I couldn’t miss his hardness against my belly, telling me he was as into this as I was.

The kiss became urgent, fervent, as he pivoted us and trapped my body between him and the cabinets. As our tongues twisted and teeth collided, Ben’s hands slipped beneath my pajama top and slid upward along my sides until they were just under my heavy breasts, so close to my needy flesh. He paused there for long enough I was silently urging, begging him to touch me with those work-roughened hands. When he finally lifted one thumb to my nipple, I gasped into his mouth, then intensified the kiss, my wordless way of telling himmore, please.

He palmed my breast, kneaded it, fingered and pinched the tip, eliciting a moan from me. I lowered my hands to his ass, pulling him into me, needing to quell the pulsing ache between my legs.

Athunksounded at the outside door, and we froze. Next came scratching, then a dog’s whimper, then a bark.

“Shit.” Ben put space between us. “I forgot they were out there.”

I ran a finger over my lower lip, catching my breath as I registered that we’d left the three dogs out in the cold. “Sounds like they’re done.”

“I’ve got ’em.”

As he walked toward the door, he adjusted his jeans, making my lips flicker up in a lust-struck smile.

The outer door opened, cold air swept in, and three dogs galloped inside, bringing their energy and the jingle of tags with them. Each one of them rushed up to me and sniffed. Milo and Sprocket apparently registered me as okay, trotted over to the water bowls, and started slurping. Nugget did a lap around me, rubbing up against my legs, campaigning for attention.

I reached down and rubbed the sides of her head. “Who’s a pretty girl? Did you get cold out there, Nugs?”

Ben ducked into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “I wasn’t prepared,” he said as he bent down and dried Milo’s, then Sprocket’s paws. He called Nugget over and sweet-talked her as he lifted each of her paws and dried them as well.

In a flash, the three headed out of the kitchen, probably to curl up in their dog beds.

Ben tossed the towel into the mudroom for next time, then settled next to me, both of our butts leaning against the counter.

“That was probably good timing for an interruption,” he said, his voice rough.

I pressed my lips together and considered what to say. “Stupid dogs” was what came out. I laughed, then sobered, doubt flashing through me. “I… Did you not enjoy that? The kissing, I mean.”

“Are you kidding me? I was two seconds from lifting you to the counter, stripping your sexy flannels off, and having my way with you.”

I laughed again, giddiness rushing in at his admission. “Flannels are not sexy.” The shorts showed off my legs, but the top was literally buttoned up tight.

His response was a quiet, rumbly growl. “I’m sorry that was getting out of control. You said it couldn’t happen again. As much as I want that to happen and more, I respect your needs.”

---