Page 17 of A Baby to Make Her His Bride

She couldn’t move. She was paralyzed with longing and fear of rejection.

For a few moments, there was only the drip of rain off the trees.

He stepped closer and watched his own finger as he scooped a tendril of hair that had fallen from her ponytail and tucked it behind her ear. His fingertip lingered on the shell of her ear, slowly tickling down to the hollow behind her earlobe and leaving a trail of fire against the side of her neck.

“Isit something you want to talk about?” he asked.

“I don’t know how,” she admitted in a strained whisper.

“Talk about? Or do?” The corner of his mouth dug in with humor while his finger traced her collarbone where it was exposed by the neckline of her pullover.

“D-do.” Her eyelids fluttered at the sensation his barely-there touch was provoking. “I don’t know how to be with anyone except—” She didn’t want to say his name. Not right now. “I mean physically,” she clarified, dying at how naked she felt. “Because I don’t want to jump out of one commitment and into another, but I don’t want to use you as a rebound.”

“No?” All his fingers came into play as he caressed her throat. “I would love you to use the hell out of me right now.”

She swallowed.

His hand cupped her throat, making her aware of how hard her pulse was pounding into his palm.

“What if it’s awful? I don’t want to sit across from you at Christmas dinner someday and remember how awkward this week was.”

“It won’t be.”

“How do you know?”

Something perplexed and amused and patient sifted behind his eyes as he slid his hand to hook it behind her neck and slowly dipped his head. He barely grazed his mouth across hers, just enough to leave her lips buzzing with yearning.

Her eyelids fluttered closed and she reflexively took hold of the front of his sweatshirt, drawing him closer.

A rumble sounded. Thunder? No, it was a sound of satisfaction deep in his chest.

He continued to hold her for his lazy, teasing kisses. His mouth caught hers more deliberately. Once, twice...

She stopped breathing, aching with anticipation.

On the third pass, he shuffled his feet wider and set a heavy hand on her waist, fingers digging in. He slanted his head, unhurried while they found the right fit. She went up on her toes, increasing the pressure.

His arm went around her, then. He drew her tight against him. Secure. Then he devoured her until she was dizzy. Until she forgot that breathing was a thing and that anything beyond this seductive heat existed.

She stretched herself against him, curling her arm around his neck for balance, reveling in his hands moving over her back. Reveling in the thickness of his erection against her abdomen. She hadn’t felt wanted in so long. Ever. Not really. But there was the proof. He wanted her.

She could have wept.

She kissed him back with abandon, falling into the bliss of it, distantly thinking,This is how it’s supposed to feel.

Or not. With a rough growl, he twisted and set his arm against the rough trunk of a tree, then trapped her in the cage of it. While the exhale of the towering cedars soaked the air with their fragrance, his mouth came back to hers in a deep, lush kiss. His free hand slid over the pocket of her jeans, long fingers splayed across the cheek of her backside, wicked and thrillingly possessive as he lifted her leg, guiding her to crook her knee to his waist where he trapped it with his elbow.

Now his hips pinned hers and that fierce evidence of his desire was flush against where she was soft and yielding. He rocked in a deliberate rhythm that sent shots of gold outward to her fingertips.

Thiswas how it was supposed to feel. Like she was ripe and ravenous and divine.

His mouth caught her wanton sobs and his tongue brushed hers. She sucked on it and speared her hands into his hair and lifted her hips into that relentless pressure that was driving her mad. Climax was always elusive for her, but she’d never been this aroused. She was so close that she trembled.

His heady kiss abruptly stopped, leaving her mouth feeling abandoned and bruised.

She dragged open her eyes, dazed, bracing for a hard clunk back to earth if she was in this alone, but he wore a flush of carnal hunger on his cheeks.

“Feeling awkward yet?” he asked in a voice roughened by lust and smugness.

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