Page 48 of Snow in Texas

She knew it was all over, with that first touch of their lips. It had been building to this, and they’d finally reached the crossroads. If she chose to divert, to go her own way after this, it would be a decision of the mind, and not the heart. And it would rip her in two when it happened. Because this moment was the emotional, feminine core of her deciding on Colin O’Donnell.

He was her man, whether she’d wanted him to start with or not.

He let her play with his mouth a moment, her tongue flirting between his lips, his teeth, her fingers digging into his arms. And then he took over.

He pushed her back onto the pillows, climbed over her. Her legs opened automatically, making a cradle for his hips. She arched into the sheer size and weight of him, hands sliding into his hair.

He thumbed open the buttons of her work shirt with rough, hasty movements. She heard threads tear. He lifted his head, broke their kiss, and she went liquid between her thighs as she watched his eyes drink in her red lace bra.

“Jesus, baby, you arebuilt,” he whispered, and hooked a thumb in each fragile cup, drawing them down so her breasts were bared and lifted.

Her pulse quickened as he shifted down in the bed. “Please,” she murmured, just before his breath fanned across her aching nipples.

He suckled her, one and then the other. She cradled his skull in her hands, arched into his mouth, shameless as she offered herself to him. The sensations were exquisite, each tug of his lips radiating beneath her skin, plucking at every nerve.

Then his lips cruised downward, skimmed across her belly. And his hands found the button of her jeans.

“God.”

She lifted her hips, helped to shed the second skin Levi’s. A hot flash of awareness moved through her, left her wondering, doubting. And then he pushed her knees up, wedged her thighs apart with his shoulders, and kissed her sex.

“Ooohhhh,” she whispered, fingertips digging into his scalp. Riley had never done this. Had never expressed interest in it. Had usually flipped her over and gone at her from behind. She was embarrassed…but more than that, she wanted it. She was thirty-nine, and this gorgeous hunk of man wanted to go down on her…and she was lifting into the steady strokes of his tongue.

It was incredible.

All self-consciousness burned away in a matter of moments, replaced with a desperate need. The hot, wet touch of his mouth against her was pure heaven. She closed her eyes, pressed her head back into the pillow, and gave herself over to it.

The orgasm was nerve-shattering.

She was still gasping, trying to catch her breath, when he reared up over her, huge and splendid as the sun in her eyes.

“You’re still dressed,” she managed, between panted breaths, hands running up his cotton-covered chest.

His grin was cocky, irritating, and hot as hell. “You want me naked?”

“Fuckingyes.”

He laughed. Sat back on his heels and stripped his shirt off, giving her a show of flexing, caramel-colored muscles and the shadows they threw. Ditching his jeans and boots was more awkward, as he stayed kneeling on the bed. She helped. And then…

She made an incomprehensible sound when he entered her. She closed her thighs tight around his hips, dug her heels into his ass.

“God, Colin…”

He rode her hard, the mattress threatening to give out altogether.

Jenny wanted him closer, closer…She clutched his arms, his shoulders, his neck…

“Please,” she whispered. “I need…”

“I know, baby,” he said against her jaw. He kissed her cheek, her forehead. Flexed his hips until she whimpered from the force of his invasion. “I know.”

She shattered again.

Twenty-One

Colin

“You’re a very bad influence on me,” he said to the ceiling as he caught his breath.

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