Читать книгу Rancher Untamed - Katherine Garbera - Страница 11

Three

Diego took her hand in his. His voice was rough and husky, but he couldn’t control that. He’d been turned on by her kiss. Just her kiss had gotten him hotter and harder than he’d anticipated. But she’d said she was on the run...something that he’d suspected, along with most of Cole’s Hill. And he didn’t want her to feel pressured to go home with him.

“I’d like that, too,” she said. There was a look in her eyes that made him even harder and he stood, putting the champagne glasses on one of the tables that lined the patio.

He turned back to her and held out his hand.

She licked her lips and closed her eyes for a second. “You taste really good, you know?”

“I think it was you.”

She walked toward him, her hips swaying with each step she took, and he groaned deep in his throat. Damn. She was hot, and she knew it. She kept eye contact with him, but he broke it, letting his gaze skim down her body. He didn’t care if she saw how much she affected him.

He wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t have him hotter than a tin roof in July.

“We’ll have to do it again and again until we figure it out,” she said. Her voice was husky with a note of teasing in it.

“Sounds like my kind of plan,” he said. “I have a town house I keep here in the Five Families neighborhood. Will that be okay?”

“Sounds good. I live out at the Caruthers Ranch and I’m pretty sure we don’t want to drive all the way out there. I don’t really want to wait that long to touch you again, Diego,” she said. Her words adding kindling to the fire that was already burning out of control in his body.

“Good,” he said, lacing their fingers together and leading her down the patio walkway toward the path around the golf course. “I hope you don’t mind walking, but I’ve had too much to drink to feel safe driving even just through this neighborhood. It’s only a ten-minute walk.”

“I don’t mind walking at all,” she said.

He held her hand in his and tried to concentrate on getting back to his place. But her perfume smelled slightly of spring and she kept humming “Save a Horse,” distracting him. Filling his mind with images of her naked, on top of him, riding him. He groaned again.

“Are you okay?”

“Sí,” he said, falling back on Spanish. His family had been in the United States for generations—their original homestead had been a land grant from the Spanish King back in the 1700s—but their family had always been multilingual.

“I know a little bit of Spanish, but it’s not the Mexican dialect that a lot of people speak here,” she said. “I had a very funny conversation with Isabella about that the other day. She’s one of the new hires that Kinley brought in to work in her wedding and event planning office in town.”

Diego didn’t really care about all that. But he liked the sound of her voice, so he just made a hmming sound and she kept on talking. Finally, he saw the cluster of townhomes and his own front door.

“This way,” he said, leading her off the path and across the street to his place. These townhomes were only about five years old and had been built from the same river rock that had been used in the country club. The path leading up to the front door was made of smaller stones but smoothed out so that it was comfortable to walk on.

He reached into his pocket for his keys, which drew his trousers tighter against his groin, and he realized that even walking and talking about nothing for ten minutes had done nothing to cool him down. But that wasn’t surprising. Pippa had had him tied in knots for the last few weeks.

“This is it,” he said. “Still want to come in? If not, I can arrange for someone to take you home.”

“Diego, I want you. I want this. I’m not going to change my mind,” she said.

“You’ve kept me at arm’s length for a while now and I know that there has to be a reason. I don’t want you to regret this,” he said. He never wanted that. This night felt like...well, a dream, and he didn’t want anything to ruin it.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him close. “Oh, Diego, I don’t deserve you, but I certainly want you.”

“Of course you deserve me,” he said, lifting her off her feet and lowering his mouth to hers. Her lips tempted him; the entire time she’d been talking, all he’d thought about was kissing her again.

He set her on her feet and led the way to his front door. He unlocked it, pushed it open and beckoned for her to enter first. They stepped into the foyer. He was a pretty traditional guy, so it was decorated with solid dark wood furniture, and the floor tile was a terra-cotta color that reminded him of the mane of his favorite stallion. He tossed his keys in the bowl on the large chest to the left of the entrance and then undid his tie, tossing it on the table, as well. In the round tile-framed mirror he caught Pippa’s gaze.

She watched him with the stark, raw need that he recognized in himself. She moved closer, putting her hand on his shoulder and walking her fingers up toward his neck to slowly pull his tuxedo jacket down his arms and off.

* * *

Pippa was glad she’d left her heels on because Diego was taller than she’d realized—at least six-one. She reached around him from behind and slowly removed the studs that held his dress shirt together. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man and she wanted to make every moment of this evening last.

“Hold out your hand,” she said, her voice huskier than she meant for it to be.

He did as she asked, and she dropped each of the studs into his upturned palm. She watched him in the mirror as her fingers moved down his chest. It was sexier than she thought to see her manicured nails so close to Diego’s tanned chest as each tiny strip of his skin was revealed. Finally, she had the shirt undone to his waistband. She deliberately rubbed her fingers over his erection. His hips jerked back for a moment and then canted forward into her touch. She undid the button that fastened his pants before tugging the tails of his shirt out. It hung open, giving her a few tantalizing glimpses of his rock-hard stomach and the muscles of his chest in the mirror.

“How are you so muscly?” she asked.

He gave a half laugh, half groan sound. “I spend all my day working with horses that I charge a lot of money for other breeders to use as studs.”

“So?” she asked.

“I want the entire operation to project strength and prosperity and success. That means I can’t look like a schlub when they show up,” he said.

“I like it.”

She bit her lip to keep from just shoving her hands underneath his clothes and touching him.

Patience.

She could do this. She’d spent years waiting to claim her inheritance. By now she should be very good at waiting.

She reached for his free hand and undid the cuff link, dropping it in his palm with the shirt studs. Then he poured them into his other hand, the small studs and cuff link making an almost musical sound as he did so. She smiled.

Then she undid the other cuff link and dropped it with the other shirt studs. He closed his hand around them and shoved them into his pants pocket. She focused all her attention on Diego’s body.

She pulled the sides of his shirt open and he rotated his shoulders, making it easier for her to take it off. His shoulder blade rubbed against her right breast, sending a hot pulse of desire through her.

He tossed his shirt on top of his jacket and she put her hands on his chest. Diego worked outdoors but didn’t have a farmer’s tan. It was clear to her that he had spent a good amount of time in the Texas sun without his shirt on. She ran her hands down his chest. There was a tattoo in roman-type lettering that curved around a scar right below his ribs. She suspected that the scar was old as she ran her fingers over the ridge of it. She put one hand on his waist and the other on the small of his back as she leaned around to read the tattoo he had on his chest.

Courage is being scared to death and saddling up anyway.

“What does this mean to you?” she asked.

“Just a reminder that getting knocked down doesn’t mean I need to stay down forever,” he said, putting his hand over hers and rubbing it up and down his torso.

There was a thin line of hair that disappeared into the open waistband of his pants. She traced the line with her finger as she straightened back up, but he stopped her. He took her wrist in his hand and drew her fingers back to his chest.

“I like the way you touch me, Pippa,” he said, his voice that low growly sound that sent shivers through her body. Shivers that seemed to pool between her legs.

She wanted him.

It had been a long dry spell for her and she’d done her share of masturbating and fantasizing about men. Diego had figured prominently in those fantasies since she’d moved to Cole’s Hill. She figured there was no way he could live up to them. She’d never had a sexual encounter that had. But there was a heat in Diego’s eyes that turned her on. Way more than in her daydreams.

“I like touching you,” she admitted, pushing her hand into the open fly of his pants and stroking the hard ridge of his erection through the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs.

He groaned and reached for the zipper in the left side of her dress.

He’d done this before. She knew from the talk she’d overheard in the coffee shop after he’d left that he was a player. There were a lot of women who had either dated him or wanted him in their bed.

“I’m lucky I got you tonight,” he said.

“I got you,” she pointed out.

“Yes, you did,” he said, raising both eyebrows at her as he ran his finger down her side, touching her skin as the zipper opened and the fabric parted.

He slipped his hand in and around to her back and drew her toward him, swaying along as he sang a popular Blake Shelton song under his breath. She closed her eyes, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders while keeping her hand on his erection.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered, “This is what I was thinking about each time I held you close to me tonight.”

“Really?” she asked, opening her eyes and tipping her head back. Their eyes met and that dark chocolate gaze of his held secrets and passion. She wanted it all.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She fumbled around the elastic at the top of his boxers and reached inside to touch his naked flesh. “I was thinking about this.”

He didn’t say anything. His pupils dilated, and he brought his mouth down hard on hers. His tongue thrust deep into her mouth as he lightly drew his fingernail down her back, stopping at the small of her back. He dipped his finger lower, pushing aside the fabric of her thong panties.

An electric pulse of heat went through her as he cupped her butt and lifted her off her feet. She knew he was moving, but hardly paid any attention to it until he put her back down on the floor and lifted his head. They were in the master bedroom. She could tell by the deep, masculine colors and the large king-size bed behind her.

He disappeared for a minute and then was back with a box of condoms that he put on the nightstand. She was glad she hadn’t had to bring up protection, that he’d just taken care of it.

“Now, where were we?” he asked, putting his hands gently on either side of her head and tipping it back. Their eyes met again and he brought his mouth down on hers.

And she forgot about everything.

She let her hand fall from his face to his chest. He was warm. She rubbed her fingers over the scar under his tattoo and then down his abdomen. He shifted his hips and his trousers slid down his legs.

“Impressive,” she said.

He wriggled his eyebrows at her. “Thanks. I save that move for special occasions.”

She couldn’t help smiling at the way he said it. Of course, Diego wasn’t like any other man she’d had sex with. He was at ease with his body and with her. There was no pressure to get to it and get it over with. She had the feeling that he wanted her to enjoy this night and that he intended to take his time. There was something sexy in his confidence.

His trousers were pooled around his ankles, but his dress boots kept them in place. His erection was a hard ridge straining against his boxer briefs and his lips were slightly swollen from their kisses. She felt that pulsing between her legs again and knew that she’d never seen anything more erotic in her life. He wasn’t posing or pretending. He wanted her and he didn’t have to put on moves to impress her.

He lifted the hem of her dress up over her thighs and then all the way over her head, tossing it aside. She stood there in just her tiny panties and no bra.

He groaned, and when he reached out to touch her, she noticed his hand shook slightly. Then he was cupping her breasts with both hands, his palms rubbing over her nipples.

He caressed her from her neck down past her waist, lingering over each curve and making her aware of places on her body that she’d never thought about before, like the bottom of her ribs. His fingers dipped between her legs, pushing her panties down her legs until she stepped out of them, placing her hand on his shoulder to keep her balance. He dipped his hand between her legs, rubbing his finger over her clit until she felt her legs go week.

He put his arm around her waist and lowered her back on the bed, coming down over her. She drew her hand down the side of his body, wrapping her hand around him, stroking him from the root to the tip. On each stroke she ran her finger over the head and around to the back of his shaft. He shivered each time she touched him there.

He ran his hands all over her torso, cupping both of her breasts this time. She shifted, keeping her grip on him but moving so that he could touch her the way she liked it.

She pushed her shoulders back and watched as he leaned forward. She felt the warmth of his breath against her skin and then the brush of his tongue. He circled her nipple with it, then closed his mouth over her and suckled her deeply.

She stroked him until she felt his hips lift toward her, moving in counterpoint to her hand. She reached lower and cupped him, rolling the delicate weight of him in her fingers before squeezing slightly. He groaned and pulled his mouth from her breast. He gripped the back of her neck and brought her mouth to his.

As he drew her against him, she didn’t move her hand except to guide the tip of his erection to enter her.

He slid a little more into her and she reveled in the feel of his thick cock at the entrance of her body. But then he lifted his head and took her nipple in his mouth again, biting down lightly on her nipple, and she shuddered.

She tried to impale herself on him, but he wasn’t about to let her have him now. He held her where she was with just enough connection to drive both of them mad.

“Are you ready for me?”

“Yessss,” she said with a sigh.

A second later he thrust into her, filling her completely.

She rocked her hips, forcing him deeper into her body. He hit her in the right place and she saw stars dancing behind her closed eyelids as he pulled out and thrust back inside her.

He held her with his big hands on her ass, lifting her into each thrust, and soon she was senseless. She could do nothing but feel the power of his body as he moved over her and in her.

She held on to his sides while he continued to drive her higher and harder, and then she felt everything inside clench as her orgasm surged through her. She cried out his name as he tangled one hand in her hair and drove into her even harder and faster, and then she felt him tense and groan as he climaxed. He thrust into her two or three more times before shifting to rest his forehead against hers.

She looked into those dark eyes of his and knew that everything had changed. She had thought this night would be just sex. Just some fun. But Diego wasn’t just a fantasy—he was a real, flesh-and-blood man.

He rolled to his side and disposed of the condom before settling back into bed and pulling her into his arms. “Thank you for tonight.”

She nodded against his chest, unable to find the words she needed to say. He drifted off to sleep, but she lay there thinking about her future, which was so much more complicated now.