Page 27 of Second Time Around
As she took his hand and folded her legs under her to sit on one of the blankets, she felt that shiver of awareness run over her skin again. Enclosed in the dim fragrant space of the barn, Will’s presence seemed magnified. Then he dropped onto the blanket next to her and stretched out on his side, propped on one elbow with his champagne glass in the other hand.
He was so close that she could see the pale hair glinting where his shirt was unbuttoned at the neck. She caught a whiff of the woodsy soap he used. His face was level with hers so the texture of the skin over his cheekbones and jawline tempted her fingers to explore.
She gulped a swig of champagne to quell the longing that seared through her. “You know, your father respects you. It’s your mother who doesn’t approve of what you do.”
Will actually rocked back an inch as he frowned. “My father has never forgiven me for not being a lawyer at Chase, Banfield, and Trost.”
“You’re wrong. There’s pride in his eyes when he looks at you. He really wanted to discuss organic farming with you. That was sincere.”
Will shook his head.
“Your mother called Ceres a ‘little fast-food franchise.’”
His frown eased somewhat. “Mum calls everything little. The women she plays tennis with are ‘her little group of gals,’ and they’re nationally ranked amateur players. The Spring Fling is just a ‘casual little gathering.’ You’ve seen it.”
“She insulted Ceres. Your father didn’t.” Kyra started to take another swallow of champagne when she realized her glass was empty. “But it’s none of my business.”
She reached for the bottle between them just as Will did, so their fingers brushed. She pulled her hand back more abruptly than she meant to, but he made no comment as he refilled her glass.
“It’s your business because I dragged you to this party.” Will refilled his glass as well. “You always pegged people exactly right at Brunell.”
“I’ve spent all of five minutes with your parents, so take my comments with a grain of salt.” She could hardly judge his family’s inner workings based on such a brief acquaintance.
He drank down his glassful of champagne in two swallows, drawing Kyra’s gaze to the ripple of muscles in his neck. She was grateful when he flipped onto his back and closed those hypnotic eyes. “God, this feels good.”
What felt good? The hay? Lying down? Being with her?
Kyra didn’t copy his position. She didn’t want to give up the chance to drink in the length of him laid on the blanket like a feast. She’d always known he was tall, but when he was on her level like this, she was aware of how solid he was. He had one arm tucked under his head so the cotton of his shirt pulled tight over the bulge of his triceps. The expanse of striped fabric that covered his shoulders and chest was impressive, as was the flat plane of his abdomen. She followed the stretch of his legs all the way down to where they extended beyond the horse blanket, his ankles crossed so she could see the shine of his loafers.
She squinted at his socks, a medium blue with red silhouettes of sharks circling on them. “Are your socks a comment on the party guests?” she asked.
He opened his eyes and flexed one foot as he glanced down with a crooked smile. “It was that or T. rexes. Either would work.”
Kyra laughed and flopped back on her horse blanket to gaze at the rafters of the barn as lust sparked through her. She needed a moment to quell that reaction.
“Kyra, I’ve had just enough to drink to ask you this.” His deep, cultured voice shimmered over her skin. “What happened that night after the frat party?”
Embarrassment sent a stinging flush over her cheeks. He’d lulled her into a false sense of security, hadn’t he? “Nothing. You feel asleep on the couch.” That was true, and she hoped it would end the conversation.
“I remember more than that.” His voice sounded closer, and she made the mistake of turning her head. He’d rolled onto his side again. Now he was nearly touching her, his gaze on her face while heat flickered in the depths of his eyes. “But not enough more.”
She should sit up and scoot away from him, but she didn’t have the self-discipline. “We got a little hot and heavy, but before anything, um, serious happened, you started snoring.”
“Thank God, because I would hate to think that I didn’t remember making love to you.”
Kyra couldn’t breathe as Will leaned in toward her, his eyes fastened on her lips. His words had wiped away the deep-seated sense of inadequacy, the mortifying conviction that she had been too dull to keep him awake. Now all she could think about was finishing what they had started all those years ago. She tilted her head so their mouths could meet, at first a light, teasing pressure, but then Will threaded his fingers into her hair and cupped the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. She whimpered at the pleasure of his lips against hers, and he touched their seam with his tongue, not demanding she open to him, but just tracing along it.
She reached blindly for him, her hand finding his shoulder and tugging him closer. She wanted to feel her breasts against his chest. He shifted so he was braced over her. “Will,” she breathed, arching upward. And then she got her wish as he cradled her head between both hands and let his weight press her into the springy hay.
He angled her head to kiss her neck just behind her earlobe, sending shivers of delight streaking down to tighten her nipples. He nibbled at her sensitive skin, and she gasped and shuddered, her hands like talons curving over the muscles of his shoulders. Her hips rocked and he again gave her what she wanted by driving his leg between hers, soshe had the friction of his muscled thigh to push against. She could feel him harden against her, ratcheting up her longing.
His body was so solid and warm, his shirt smelled of the woods and Will, and the heat and motion of his lips made her insides soften and ache on a hot glide down between her legs.
“Not in a barn,” he said, rolling off her. He picked a piece of straw out of her hair. “We’re doing it right this time.”
Still in a daze of arousal, Kyra said, “Not in your childhood bedroom either.”
“Spoilsport.” He smiled but looked away from her for a few moments before he gave a decisive nod. He came to his knees and offered his hand to her, rising and pulling her up with him. “You don’t get seasick, do you?”
