Need crashed into her.
Her hands had a mind of their own, trailing down his chest to free his shirt from the waist of his jeans. She wanted to touch him. Her fingers slid beneath the fabric to stroke the muscles of his abdomen. He shuddered, his skin contracting beneath her caress.
“Your hands are cold.” He said against her mouth, laughing and arching away from her touch. His gaze swept over her face, a slight crease dipping between his dark brows before he reached for her again. Suddenly, Ash was urgent. Frantic. Impatient. His hands slid beneath her sweater, skimming the skin along her waistband and driving her wild. Need ruled him—and Renata welcomed it.
Ash had lost control. The minute he’d pulled her scent deep into his lungs, the red flag had popped up. But having her in his arms, soft and giving, was too much to resist. Hell, he didn’t want to resist. He wanted to explore every inch of this woman, to love her until she fell apart, then do it all again. Knowing she felt the same—well, he was rock hard and hurting.
He let her go long enough to lock the large wooden door, but even that seemed to take too long. When he turned back to her, she stood before the glowing embers in the dying fire. He swallowed at the sight she made. That long blond hair of hers fell heavy down her back. Her jeans clung to her like a second skin. Only her bulky cream sweater left anything to the imagination. But he had no problem filling in the blanks. For weeks, Renata Boone had been waiting for him in his dreams. Now she was here, flesh and blood and wanting him.
“Ash...” Her voice wavered, uncertain, even as she held her hand out for him.
He kicked his boots off on the way to her, fingers unbuttoning his shirt as he went. She followed suit, sliding the sweater up and over her head and tossing it aside. Her navy bra was a stark contrast to her creamy skin. He wanted to push the straps aside to explore the full roundness of her breasts until she was wri
thing beneath him. Her gaze locked with his, wild-eyed and flushed, for him.
Once he reached her, clothes were flying. Her bare skin against his rocked him to the core. He lost himself in her, the silk of her skin and the scent that had haunted him since the night he’d first held her close. The nip in the air had him dragging her chair closer to the fire and warmth.
She smiled and pushed him back before climbing into his lap, straddling him.
He ran his fingers along her shoulder and chest, watching the dancing shadows flicker across her smooth skin. A long lock of hair fell forward, resting in the valley between her bare breasts. She was beautiful. Soft. She made him ache. When she bent to press her lips to his, his hands tangled in her hair—holding her close. But not close enough.
With a little groan of frustration, Renata arched into him. When her nipples grazed his chest, Ash bit off a curse. She braced her hands on his shoulders, broke away from their kiss and smiled down at him.
All he could do was stare. Hair tousled, eyes glazed with passion, lips parted... He knew what it was to love her, knew how it felt, and when she arched her hips and welcomed him deep inside her warmth nothing compared. His head pressed back against the chair as his lungs emptied. All that mattered was the feel of her, tight and hot, around him.
His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place once they’d fully joined together. “I need a minute,” he ground out. Otherwise, this would be over way too soon.
She shook her head, tilting her hips ever so slightly. “Ash.”
It was a plea. One he couldn’t ignore. His hands traveled up her sides to cradle the weight of her full breasts. The hard, tight peaks ached for him—so he bent forward to draw one, then the other, into his mouth. With every stroke of his tongue, she moaned a little harder, her grip on his shoulder a little tighter.
And every time she thrust onto him, he had to bite back a curse. Slow and hard, over and over, she didn’t stop. Her head fell back so her long golden hair brushed his bare thighs. He captured a handful, tugging her close so he could bury his face between her breasts.
The moment her body began to tighten, he let go. He arched into her, letting her set the rhythm but matching it thrust for thrust. Her eyes flew open and she buried her face against his shoulder, muffling the long cry that signaled her release. That was all it took to send him spiraling over the edge. There was no way he could stop the groan that ripped from him.
She collapsed into him, burrowing close. Her slight shiver had him tugging the blanket up. Having her in his arms felt right. This felt right. Neither one of them could deny that this was powerful. Maybe powerful enough to bind them together—until affection kicked in.
He rubbed her back with long, slow strokes, listening as her breathing grew steady and she was relaxed in his hold.
“Renata?” he whispered.
“Hmm?” She glanced up at him, smiling. “You look pleased with yourself.”
“After that? Hell, yes, I am.” He grinned. “Watching you.” He cleared his throat. “Pleasing you.”
“You did. You do.” She bit her lower lip, a shaky breath escaping. “You convinced me.”
He ran his knuckles along her jaw, leisurely exploring the shape of her face. Holding her close, having her smile up at him like that, made everything fall into place. For one thing, there was this. The intensity of the fire between them was undeniable. But this, the tenderness she stirred in the sweet after, was just as intense.
Her brothers thought the world of her. His bruise seemed to satisfy them as a whole—which was a relief because his insides were still tender. They’d let him do most of the fence repairs while they discussed options on how he’d have the most luck winning her over. By the afternoon’s end, all that had been decided was he needed luck because getting Renata Boone to change her mind was something rarely accomplished.
It was more than luck he needed. But admitting what was in his heart, right now, would have her running from the room—or throwing up all over him. Right now, he was pretty damn content.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
Nothing she was ready to hear. Instead, he shrugged, smiling slowly.
Her brows rose, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Dr. Carmichael.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you thinking sexy thoughts?” She bit her lower lip.