I fill his palms just barely. The rest of me feels so small and fragile in the hulking embrace of his body against my back. He’s easily twice my size, a head taller, and packed with bulging hardness…everywhere.
He continues to nibble on my neck, kissing and biting as his fingers pluck my nipples into tight buds. Every point of contact—his mouth, hands, chest, erection—ignites deep, throbbing waves of heat between my legs.
I’ve never been this quick to arouse. With previous lovers, I had a pre-heat setting that required coaxing and touching before sensation stirred below my waist. Even then, I never felt this hot and sexual.
Jarret only needs to look at me and my entire body catches fire.
His mouth traces my neck with so much passion and reverence I wouldn’t remain upright without the support of his arms. Cupping a breast in one hand, he lowers the other between my thighs, unerringly locating my clit with the roll of a finger.
I can’t catch my breath or form words, but I don’t care. Swaddled in a haze of skin and sultry energy, I don’t want him to let go or slow down.
His assertive mouth moves along my bare shoulder, his teeth grazing and nipping. “If I take you to the bedroom, I’m going to fuck you.”
I tense. I don’t mean to, but my brain is a damn cockblock, sounding alarms and firing off protests. I try to relax, but he senses my reluctance and pulls back.
Disappointment tightens my face, which is stupid. I shouldn’t be flirting with this man or even with the idea of him, no matter how much I justify it.
I’m keeping a secret from him, and it’s going to destroy us.
“Maybe.” He turns me to face him and lifts my chin with a finger. “I’m going to play with you tonight, and I need you to trust me.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? We don’t trust each other.”
“You trust me with this.” He leans in and brushes his mouth against mine. “And this.” He lowers a hand to my thigh and slides it upward, beneath the dress, and strokes the crotch of my panties.
My heart hums, and I sink my teeth into my lip, drawing his eyes to it. The space between us is so alive with electricity I struggle to breathe through the static. It charges with clawing potential, uncertainty, excitement, and guilt.
My guilt.
“I’m keeping something from you.” My chest heaves with an erratic breath. “Something personal.”
“I know.” He removes his hat and sets it on the counter.
My throat closes.
“Are you ready to tell me what it is?” His gaze slips to my mouth.
“No.”
“Then we’ll focus on the things you are ready for.” He twines our fingers together and guides me out of the kitchen, out of the house, and into the darkness.
With his palm pressed against mine, my attention hones in on the scar he shares with his family.
“All four of you have the same cut on your hand.” I noticed Lorne’s during the visit today. “Will you tell me about it?”
“It’s an oath we made as kids.” Glancing at me sidelong, he doesn’t slow his gait. “Something personal.”
The message in his tone is clear. He won’t share that story until I share mine.
“Where are we going?” I navigate the tall grass in borrowed boots, stumbling to keep up with his strides.
“We’re going for a ride.” His deep, melodic voice resounds with double-meaning.
My lower body quickens with desire, at odds with the panic crashing through my veins. He said he would play with me, and I can guess what that entails.
I can also end it if he crosses the line.
The question is where do I draw that line? I’m not sure, which is why I’m following him, driven by curiosity and foolishness.
He leads me into the stable and saddles up his horse.
Twenty minutes later, I sit behind him, arms hooked tight around his rock-hard stomach as he steers Ginny deep into the night.
Fireflies blink across the pasture, the only light in the starless, moonless landscape. It’s so dark and muggy I feel as though I’ve slipped through the seam of an unknown world, with a rugged, broad-shouldered, unpredictable outlaw as my only companion.
Blood pumps from the trepidation in my heart as safety descends farther behind me. I look back, the silhouette of the stable slowly shrinking toward oblivion.
I face forward, where blackness and uncertainty reign, beyond the deep breaths and masculine scent of the man carrying me toward a nebulous future, with only one thing on my mind.
Him.
In the most intimate way possible.
A lightning storm amasses in my stomach as Jarret lowers me to the ground and ties Ginny to a fence post. I don’t know what he expects from me or how far I’ll go, but it’s too late to turn back. Not that I want to.