Page 61 of Long Time Coming

“We’ll make it work. I promise. We’ll visit each other. I can fly you up anytime you can get away. I’ll fly here regularly.”

I want to be with him. It’s what I’ve wanted my whole life, but my judgment is as clouded as the sky is outside. Am I caught up in storms and distracted by incredible abs, aroused because we’re finally standing on the verge of being fully together, and timid that beyond our bodies, we’ll be exposing our souls? I’m wrapped so tight in a myriad of emotions that the weight is almost smothering.

As I look into his eyes, it’s not about making him feel better. It’s about making sure this is the right decision for both of us. It only takes a moment of swimming in his dreamy greens to know what I should do. For me. “I want to be with you, too. Sexually,” I say, smirking. He sports his own roguish grin in reaction. “And dating. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

I’m embraced in his arms and kissed in a way that might not be legal in this state. They can take me away in handcuffs before I ever stop kissing this man. Except now to say, “Make love to me, cowboy.”

CHAPTER 21

Christine

Poof!

My dress is gone under Tagger’s deft fingers after a quick lift of my arms, the ruined garment draped next to his on the railing.

My bra follows, but a cool gust of wind blowing across my breasts has me reaching out to hold his shoulder to steady myself under a shiver. He places a kiss on each nipple, then runs the flat of his tongue over them. I knew he’d be smooth, but I didn’t expect the seduction. It’s better than any dream I ever had of him.

I appreciate his attention to detail.

Right here and now, nothing exists outside this connection—physical, emotional, intense. If we didn’t go any further, it would still be a highlight in my memories forever.

Cherished in his care, beautiful under his gaze, and the slow pace makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world who’s ever mattered. He doesn’t have to take his time with me. I’m not fragile in that way. But that he’s choosing to savor every stage we enter only reaffirms that I can trust him. He wants to be with me, and I want him. I want to love him like he loves me.

I lean forward and kiss his shoulder, the muscles manipulating under my tongue as his hand slips to my lower back. I rub the peaks of my breasts across his skin to not only show what he does to me but so he can feel it too.

Sliding my hand down over his abs, I slip my hand inside the waistband of his briefs until I find his hardness needing attention. And now there’s an ache between my legs that has me wanting to jump ten steps ahead—to feel him, his large erection, buried deep inside me.

Tagger’s hold keeps me close as I rock against his leg, searching for relief that I don’t want to rush. I also don’t want the fabric barrier between us either. So I push back to take the cotton covering my hips and slide it over my boots to the floor.

He watches, drinking me in while he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “It’s criminal to look that good.”

“Arrest me, then,” I challenge. “I’m ready to do time with you in that bed.”

A smirk quirks the left side of his mouth and reaches for my hand, pulling me against him again. “You’ll be doing something in that bed alright, but it isn’t going to be time.” He kisses me, then adds, “It also might include some begging.”

My eyes go wide while the desire between my legs builds. “Promise?” I grin, raising my brow.

“See?” He shakes his head, that smug smirk never leaving his stupidly handsome face. “It’s already started.”

I poke him in the abs, more to get a feel than to scold him. “That was pure trickery.” I reach down, this time lacking a tentative touch as I rub over his erection on top of those bothersome boxer briefs. Instead, I take what feels rightfully mine. Glancing up to catch his eyes already on me, I ask, “How do you feel about getting rid of these?”

“They’re all yours, babe.”

“It’s not the boxers I want.” I grab the sides and drag them down, freeing what I’ve only felt through jeans and too briefly a few moments ago. Sliding them down to his ankles, I leave them for him to handle from there so I can take in his naked body for the first time. Broad shoulders lead to that pack of eight abs, which cut a sharp V to his prominent member. His cock is perfect—large, smooth, and temptingly straight for me—but I never doubted it wouldn’t be.

I can’t ignore his legs; the muscles are long, but the strength is held in the thighs. Running. Weights. Sports. I used to love watching him play basketball with my brother outside the barn and running to score touchdown after touchdown in high school at the four-counties stadium. I even remember the first time I saw him on TV playing for Michigan State. Though football was never what I was interested in, I missed as few games as I could get away with. Sometimes my rodeo days got in the way.

This is almost too good to be real. Manifesting really works, inviting me to manifest his mouth on me right now.Down there . . .

My chin is lifted, encouraging me to stand again. “What do you want, Pris?” There’s no smirk and no humor. The question begs for a daring answer that has me suddenly nervous to utter. I shouldn’t be, but— “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I . . .” Feeling exposed body and soul, I move against him, needing cover. With my arms around him, his arms encircle me, and he places a kisson my head.

He whispers against my hair, “Talk to me.”

With my cheek to his chest, I stare at the bed we made. I could kid myself and say it was for hanging out while this storm blows through, but I know we put the sheet and blanket on for having sex. And now that we’re getting closer, I realize big talk did get my offer taken just like he said.

“I want this, Tagger. I want to be with you, but teasing you and saying things that I probably shouldn’t, feels braver than I really am.” I turn my head and look up into his eyes. Dropping my gaze to the bed again, I whisper, “It’s been years.”

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