Page 39 of Eyes Like a Hurricane

“At least kissing you made the time go fast while we waited for the yeast to activate,” I say sheepishly.

“Not long enough,” he mutters with a smirk.

“Oh, definitely not long enough, but something you need to know about me if we are going to start dating is that I get hangry,” I say with a straight face.

“Sweetheart, we are dating. End of discussion,” he says with a wink. “Oh, and I know about your hangry tendencies,” he deadpans. “Remember who was stuck in the backcountry with you yesterday. Also, your brother might have mentionedsomething at Glaciers the other night. He had a good feeling about the two of us and said that was his number one tip to staying on your good side.”

I snigger. “Kieran basically told you that the way to my heart was my stomach? Well, I guess he isn’t too far off. If you try to offer me a plain salad with dressing on the side, I will probably faint or pass out from lack of calories.”

With a mock gasp, he places a hand on his heart. “I would never!” Shaking my head, I reach over and gently shove his forearm. He smirks. “Was that your way to get me back on task to start shaping the dough, or did you just want to feel my muscles?”

I’m sure I turn the color of a pomegranate as my eyes slide to the countertops. I clear my throat, but I only manage to chirp out, “Uh, both?”

He laughs harder, bending at the waist. “Okay, food first, I see how it is. No offense taken. I’m thankful you like to eat. It drives me crazy when a woman only wants rabbit food.”

An hour later we are sitting in front of empty plates. The pizza was amazing. I can’t confess this to Kieran, but Lachlan’s crust was better. It stayed crunchier on the outside yet still had this wonderful chewy center. The cheese was locally made and melted beautifully. I wipe my mouth with my napkin before placing it on my plate.

“Okay, I’m hooked on this outdoor pizza oven. Think this could become a regular Tuesday night meal for us?” I ask nonchalantly.

“During the late spring, summer, and early fall, definitely. Once the winter weather sets in, the pizza oven gets covered for the season. I have no desire to stand and cook in the snow,” he says.

I nod, staring aimlessly out into the pastures. “I’m so excited to experience snow. I want to sit under a blanket with a warm drink and watch the snow fall silently out the window.”

With a heated look, he says, “That can be arranged. Can I join you under the blanket? I promise to keep you warm.”

He stands without waiting for my response, but the crinkle around his eyes tells me my reaction was good enough. I bite my lower lip as I watch him carry our plates into the house. The dogs and I follow him inside. I have our glasses in my hands as I enter the kitchen. He is standing at the sink with his broad back facing me. The white t-shirt pulls taut against his shoulders as his arms flex to wash the dishes.

I set the glasses on the island and saunter over to him. I reach up, and my fingertips dance across his back. I glide my hands up to his shoulders and then down his sides until they land on his hips. I rest my head between his shoulder blades. With my eyes closed, I match my breathing to his. Suddenly, I notice he is no longer washing the dishes. He is standing absolutely still while the water continues running.

I blindly reach around his waist, finding the faucet. I turn the water off and bring my hands back to his stomach. I slowly untuck his t-shirt and allow my fingertips to graze his skin just above his waistband. Flattening my hands against the ridges of his lower abs, I feel him suck in a deep breath and drop his head back.

Feeling the rumble of his low growl against my hands as his skin vibrates is like a shock to my system. His wet hands gently grab onto my wrists to still my movement. Lifting my fingers from his skin, he slowly turns until my hands are draped across his back. The pad of his thumb comes up and strokes my cheek before his head dips and our lips connect.

I can taste the sweet pineapple from our pizza on his lips, and desire swarms me. His other hand comes up and strokes my breast through the thin fabric of my shirt and bra. My nipples pebble as his thumb grazes over the surface. The whisper of his touch leaves me aching for more. I press my chest further into his hand and pull him closer by his belt loops.

Our kiss slowly stops, and I whisper, “Care to take a shower after that long ride?”

He doesn’t say a word. His lips find mine once more as his large hands reach below my butt, lifting me into the air. I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck and hook my legs around his waist. My center presses against his hard length as he walks us down the hall. My back suddenly connects with a wooden door. I feel one of his hands leaving my body, and then the pressure against my back disappears as he flings the door open.

He blindly carries me into the dark bathroom and sets me down on the cool countertop. I haven’t been in his en suite bathroom yet, so I reach over and flip on the light. The walk-in shower is breathtaking, with natural stone and a waterfall showerhead. As I look around, I catch our reflections in the mirror. His eyes are full of heat. As my gaze travels over his face, I notice his lips are puffy. With hooded eyes, he reaches in and turns on the water.

While we wait for the water to turn warm, he slowly removes my shirt for me. With one arm, he reaches up, grabs the neck of his shirt, and pulls it over his head. We each pull down our own jeans. His belt buckle hits the ground with a resounding thud. We never break eye contact. Undressing in front of him feels incredibly intimate, even though we aren’t physically touching.

I reach for him, and he steps closer. My palms rest against his abs, as I close the gap. I allow my arms to encircle his waist, and my nails dig into his lower back as the heat of his torso connects with my chest. It sends a shiver resonating up my spine. Our eyes stay locked on one another.

He wraps his arms around me and whispers, “Are you sure you are okay with this? After we shower, we can just go to bed. I know we both had long days and have work in the morning, so no pressure. There will always be tomorrow or the day after. I just want you in my life, Aislinn. I have no idea how I went thirty years without knowing you. If you left me tomorrow, a piece of me would leave with you. I’d forever be fractured.”

I nod against his chest, then answer with another kiss before replying, “I'm not going anywhere, Lachlan. Losing you would take a part of my soul.”

Reaching down, I gently push his boxer briefs down until his hard length is pressed between us. His fingers search for my bra clasp, but I shake my head.

“It’s a bralette,” I say, and reach my hands above my head.

He nods in understanding and lifts the fabric up and over my head. My breasts press into the softness of his skin. Between the smattering of chest hair and his body heat, my skin prickles. I feel his thumbs hook into the elastic band of my underwear as he gently slides them down. They fall to my ankles, and I kick them to the side.

The heat of the steam rises in the bathroom, enveloping us in a cloud of privacy. He backs into the shower, pulling me with him. The water pours over us as I gasp at how wonderful it feels. He slowly turns me in his arms, pressing my back against his front. His hands glide up my arms, and then he turns slightly.

Large hands work shampoo into a lather as I close my eyes and enjoy the feel of his fingertips working my scalp. The bubbles froth in my hair before he directs the stream of water and rinses my long tresses clean. With my eyes still closed, my breath catches when I feel his warm fingers massaging conditioner into my silky ends.

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