Page 39 of At the Rancher's Pleasure

Having her in his life made it better, brighter...fuller.

He was sorely tempted to ask her to stay, to make this place her home, but when his stomach tightened and his breath hitched, he knew he wasn’t completely sure. And, until he was, he couldn’t ask her to stay here, with him on Heritage Ranch. Because one thing he was 100 percent sure of—he wasn’t going to do or say something impulsive, something that could lead to either of them being hurt. To them hating each other.

No, they’d keep it simple until he knew for certain whether this thing between them had the legs to last.

“Wow, that was some side trip,” Sarabeth commented, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the present.

He pushed his hand through his hand. “Yeah, sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

“I can see that.” She tossed him a weak smile. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Brett nodded, not wanting her to go but knowing he should shoo her out the door. He did need to get back to work but more than that he needed tothink. About her place in his life and what he really, really wanted.

She took a step toward him, hesitated and then lifted her shoulders in a tiny, what-the-hell shrug. Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her mouth against his...andboom!

As it always did every time they kissed, the world split in two and spun off its axis.

Ten

She’d kissed him because he looked a little frustrated and a lot broody. It was supposed to be a kiss of comfort but, as it happened so often with Brett, the kiss morphed at a rapid pace. His hands grabbed her hips, and he pulled her into him as his tongue invaded her mouth, setting her already spinning world on fire.

And then he was gone...

Sarabeth heard his muttered curses, watching him as he hurriedly stalked across the room. She gripped the chair again as he slammed his office door, locked it and strode over to the windows. No, he surely wasn’t brazen enough to consider making love, here,now?

The blinds snapped shut, his lovely view of the small lake and the white pole fenced paddock disappeared, and Brett turned back to her, looking powerful and determined and so very, very sexy.

“Here and now?”

He nodded and waited for her answer. Sarabeth felt desire kick through her system, excitement and recklessness on its heels. He was the most impulsive, exciting lover she’d ever had, wouldeverhave. Thrilled to the tips of her toes, Sarabeth didn’t hesitate, shedding her jacket and lifting her tight T-shirt and pulling it over her head to reveal her pale pink bra.

Without breaking eye contact, she quickly toed off her sneakers and pushed her skirt down her hips, watching as gold flecks appeared in his deep green eyes. Brett’s eyes slid up her bare legs, stopped on the patch of pink fabric below her belly button and wandered up to her breasts. Taking two purposeful steps toward her, he lifted the cup of her bra away, bending to tug her nipple into his mouth, alternatively sucking on it and rasping it with his tongue. Impatient, he found the clasp of her bra, and, with one hand, swiftly twisted it open.

Brett straightened and he cradled her face in his broad hands. When his lips met hers, his tongue delved and danced and Sarabeth arched her back, awed by the pent-up longing she could feel in the intensity of his kiss. She gripped his shirt, tugging it out of his jeans. Desperate to feel his hot skin on hers, she moaned her frustration and then resented the brief separation from Brett’s body as he stepped away from her to pull his shirt over his head. She ran her lips across his chest, stopping to tongue his nipple, to rub her cheek on his chest hair. He was such a man, she thought. From the hardness of his muscles, the slightly rough texture of his skin and the smell that was uniquely Brett, he awakened every strand of DNA in her system.

She needed to have him,right now, in his office, with the late winter sun streaming through the cracks in the blinds.

Brett lifted her onto the edge of the desk, and in the process, files and papers slid and tumbled to the floor. She didn’t care. Sarabeth watched him through heavy, half-closed eyes. Keeping one hand on her breast, he reached into his jeans and yanked his wallet out of a pocket. Scattering cards and cash, he found a condom and ripped it open with his teeth, dropping both the latex and the empty packet onto the desk.

Her fingers opened the buttons on his fly, and as he pushed his underwear and jeans down his hips, his hands went to her panties. With two hands and a minimal effort, he ripped the flimsy material from her body. Panties could be replaced; all she cared about was that his erection was hard and proud and that he rubbed himself against her most secret places, seeking permission to enter. His fingers, and his mouth, followed where his erection had been, and Sarabeth thought she’d liquefy under his touch.

She arched her back, and when she could tolerate no more, Brett lifted his head to adore her breasts with his mouth, tongue and lips. Sarabeth patted the desk, found the condom and stretched down to close her fingers around him and relished the sound of his breathing, heavy in the quiet of the office. The latex whispered over him, her fingers making the prosaic action the most erotic sexual play.

Green eyes met blue as she tugged him toward her, remained locked as her softness wrapped around his solidity and enclosed him in her warmth. Brett’s one hand slid under her hip and the other cradled her head into his neck, both encouraging her to ride with him and promising to stand between her and the storm.

Brett moved within her and Sarabeth followed. Deeper, longer, higher, faster. She met him stroke for stroke, matching his passion, glorying in her power. Then she shuddered, splintered and through the swells of her climax, she felt Brett fracture with her in that slow, sweet little death.

She was going to be the death of him...and what a way to go.

A sudden burst of laughter, and the ring of the telephone startled Brett into remembering where they were. He gently placed Sarabeth on her feet and picked up a box of tissues from the floor. Handing her a bunch, he turned away to give her some privacy. Then, after sorting himself out, he rubbed the back of his neck. Furious, fast—amazing—sex in his office was a first and while it had been as hot as hell, it wasn’t something they could repeat regularly. People routinely walked past his window on the way to the paddock and could’ve peeked through the cracks in the blind.

Brett turned to see her ruefully eyeing the scrap of fabric in her hands. Her ruined panties, wrecked with his caveman act.

“I’ll replace them,” he said, resisting the urge to beat his chest.

Sarabeth pulled her long skirt up her legs and picked her bra up off his spare chair. It had survived his decimate-her-underwear campaign, and she quickly snapped it into place. Her silence concerned him, and he waited until she pulled on her T-shirt before stepping toward her and sliding his arms around her waist.

“Are you still coming with me to the TCC cocktail party tonight?” Brett quietly asked, after lifting his nose from her sweet-smelling hair.

---