This Kiss

He stuck the key in the lock and glanced at Sophie. With those soft brown eyes and that generous mouth, she looked like big trouble to him, tasted like it, too.

Who was he kidding? If he’d really wanted to just give her his room, he would have said something when they were outside. By her Jeep. Now, though, it would be awkward as hell to pack up and leave. He pushed the door open and she went right on inside.

After glancing around at the antique chair and the old armoire, she focused on the queen-size four-poster bed that took up most of the small room. She moved closer to it, stopping a moment to check out the patchwork quilt, and then ran her hand down the oak post close to the wall.

His cock pulsed.

When she wrapped her fingers around the smooth wood and stroked up, Ethan had to turn away. Yeah, he needed to erase that image real fast.

Between her obvious interest in the bed and his dick’s growing interest in her, he decided it was time to offer the room as he’d intended, even if it would make him look like an ass.

“It’s nice,” she said, smiling, walking close enough he could inhale her sweet scent. “Quaint. Too bad the furniture is so small. I bet you can’t even sit on the chair.”

She laid her jacket over the back of it, sat on the edge and pulled off a boot.

And there went his last good intention. Ethan sighed. If even her red-striped sock turned him on, he wasn’t going anywhere. She was already here. He was here. They were consenting adults. So he couldn’t see a reason to deny himself a little recreation before heading to the Lone Wolf. Matt had left the invitation open.

“Need help with your boots?” she asked, mesmerizing him with those eyes the color of melted chocolate.

He pulled both his boots off before she’d finished removing her second one. “Tell me you’re over twenty-one,” he said, straightening and pausing at the first snap on his shirt.

Sophie laughed. “Are you serious? I don’t look that young.”

“I just like to be sure.”

“Well, you can relax. I’m twenty-six. Anyway, I think the age of consent is sixteen in Montana.”

The same as in Wyoming, not that he paid it any mind. Twenty-one was his personal cutoff.

Getting to her feet, she pulled her shirt from her jeans, then stopped and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

His snaps were still intact. “I have one last question.”

“Okay,” she said, taking a step closer, her sultry smile designed to scramble his brain.

“Are you married?”

Her eyebrows arched and her lips parted. She looked startled, and maybe confused. “No. Of course not.” She shook her head, her eyebrows lowering into a delicate frown. “No, I’m not married, nor have I ever been married.” She drew in a breath, seemed to calm herself and took over unsnapping his shirt. “Would it really matter?”

“If you have to ask, damn good thing you’re still single.” He could see he’d irritated her. Too bad. He wasn’t about to get into another scrape like the mess he’d narrowly escaped in Wyoming. After discovering Wendy was married, he’d refused to sleep with her. To get back at him, she’d filed a false charge that he’d stolen some jewelry.

Sophie looked torn for a moment and then unfastened his next snap.

He caught her hand and inspected her ring finger. No mark, not even a faded one. “Sorry, but I’m touchy about the issue,” he said, staring into her wary eyes and lifting her hand to his lips for a brief kiss before releasing her. “It’s nothing personal.”

Without another word, she finished unsnapping him, her eyes cast downward, until she parted the front of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. Her preoccupation with his bare chest was flattering but somewhat awkward. He finished shrugging out of the shirt, impatient to see what was under hers.

Uncertainty betrayed itself in the soft, hesitant palms she skimmed over his ribs and then his pecs. Her touch was almost reverent, her expression dreamlike. A few buckle bunnies he’d been with had tried to use their phones to sneak pictures of him shirtless, and even buck naked. But this was different. This seemed more...personal.

Jesus, he hoped it didn’t turn out she was one of those crazy stalkers.

He captured her hands and gently lowered them from his chest. When he tried to draw up her T-shirt, she tensed, angling in a way that cut him off.

He took half a step back. “You change your mind?” he asked, keeping his tone low and even, letting her know it was all good. She was allowed.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t.”

He tipped her chin up so he could see her face. “It’s okay if you have. Tell me to stop and I will.”

Sighing, she pulled off her own shirt and tossed it somewhere over her shoulder. He was too busy taking in the pink bra and creamy skin to see where it landed. Her breasts were the perfect size. They’d fit nicely in his hands. Her arms and shoulders were well toned, and her abs...a woman didn’t get that kind of definition from casual exercise. Sophie took her workouts seriously. But she hadn’t gone overboard, either, which he greatly appreciated.

He drew his thumb across the silky skin mounding above her bra. She had no freckles, just the faint remnant of a summer tan.

Damned if he wasn’t the one staring now.

She shivered and shrank back.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, and looked up to meet eyes filled with disbelief. “I’m sure you get that line a lot, but I mean it.”

She let out a short laugh and went for his belt buckle. He wished she wasn’t so nervous. But if he brought it up, it would probably spook her into leaving.

Would that be the right thing to do?

Her frenzied movements confused him. It was as if she was racing the clock. Or...maybe she had someplace else she needed to be. Dammit, he couldn’t figure her out. Although once they were in bed, he could slow things down. Make her feel real good.

“Hey.”

When she looked up, he caught her chin and kissed her, taking his time, enjoying the velvety texture of her lips, trying to show her he was in no hurry. Although his dick wanted to argue.

She opened up for him and he slid his tongue inside, where it found its mate. The funny little tango that followed made them both smile. He’d always liked kissing best when tongues were involved, but simply moving his lips over hers felt more than satisfying. They found their rhythm and he deepened the kiss while pulling her tighter against him.

Sophie made a startled little sound in the back of her throat and stiffened. But she had to know she was making him hard. Thank God she didn’t pull away. She pressed even closer, until her breasts pillowed his chest.

He reached behind to unfasten her bra, anxious to see her bare breasts, to watch her nipples harden and beg for his mouth. With his free hand he cupped her nape, slid his fingers into her hair. A sexy moan filled the inside of his mouth with her warm breath.

All of a sudden she froze.

She let out a squeak and wiggled out of his arms, her hand shooting to the top of her head.

“What happened?” Staying on the safe side, he kept his hands in plain sight. “Did I hurt you?”

They just stared at each other.

She didn’t strike him as a woman who’d care if a man mussed up her hair. So what the hell?

“Sorry,” she said, her cheeks pink. “Really sorry. I’m not freaking out or anything. About being here...you know...in the room with you. I promise I’m not.”

Could’ve fooled him. “Look, we don’t have to—”

“Let’s get in bed, okay? I’ll feel more relaxed then.”

After a quick look at her parted lips, he watched the alarm fade from her eyes. “You don’t like leaving the light on?” Ethan asked, worried he was missing something that would come back to bite him. “Is that it?”

“I don’t care about the light.” She smoothed back her hair and smiled as if nothing had happened.

Now that his body had cooled off some, he needed to think before she took another step toward him. This year he faced more pressure than ever to claim another championship title, partly because of his age, and also because of his kid sister. Mostly, though, it was about his left shoulder. It didn’t hurt all the time, but he knew his rodeo days were numbered.

Sophie came up flush against him and looped her arms around his neck. Her pink lips parted slightly as she tilted her head back. She was still wearing the damn bra, not that it seemed to matter, since his mind went blank.

He put his hands on her waist, waiting, hoping he wasn’t in for another surprise squeal. Her skin was soft and warm above the jeans waistband. The satiny texture made him itch to explore the rest of her. He settled for rubbing the small of her back, then moved his hands over the curve of her firm backside. Squeezing through denim was better than nothing, he supposed.

Screw that.

The jeans and bra both had to come off.

His request was preempted by an urgent tug. Sophie pulled his head down while she lifted herself up to meet his lips. When she leaned into him, moving her hips against his born-again erection, his whole body tightened. He slid his tongue inside her mouth and touched the tip of hers before circling and sampling the sweetness of her.

“Bed,” she whispered.

He lifted her in his arms. With a soft gasp, she hung on tight even after he’d laid her down against the pillows. She resumed the kiss, refusing to let go of his neck, even as he followed her down. The fierce way she was clinging to him made things tricky. He stretched out alongside her, keeping his weight off her and on his braced elbow.

He dragged his mouth away from hers and trailed his lips along her jaw to her ear, wondering where she might be sensitive. After a few nips at her earlobe, he cupped a breast and murmured, “How about we get rid of this bra?”

She vaguely nodded, then stiffened. “Wait.”

“For?”

She sat up and sighed. “I forgot something.”

Ethan fell onto his back. She just wasn’t going to make it easy, was she? “What did you forget?” he asked as she crawled over him and got off the bed.

“Just one sec,” she said, raising one finger before she headed for the chair with her jacket draped over the back.

Ethan watched her rifle through the pockets and found it in his heart to forgive her for the interruption. Only because she had one helluva nice ass. Which he hoped to see in the flesh, preferably before the next full moon.

Okay. He finally understood the problem. “I have a condom,” he said, rolling to the side and reaching into his back pocket. “It’s right here. You can stop looking.”

She murmured something he couldn’t make out, yet managed to give him the impression she hadn’t heard him.

“Sophie?”

She turned to face him, holding the jacket against her front. Fortunately not so her breasts were hidden. Yeah, except the bra took care of that. Shit. Not being able to see and touch was driving him crazy.

He took the packet out of his wallet and tossed both on the nightstand. “Did you hear me?” Why the hell was she bringing the jacket with her? “I have a condom.”

“What? Oh.” She stopped by the side of the bed. “No, we don’t need one.”

“Uh, yeah, we do.” He never broke that rule.

“I changed my mind about the light.” She smiled and leaned down to give him a quick kiss and quite a view. “I think I want it off.”

Ethan had never met a woman who ran so hot and cold, and at the speed of sound on top of that. He’d ridden a hundred ornery bulls that had given him less trouble. Trouble being the keyword here. Maybe this—Sophie—was an omen he needed to take more seriously.

She kissed him again, lingering this time, using her tongue, while trailing her fingers down his chest. She traced a circle around his navel and then rested her hand on his buckle. “I’ll be right back.”

Jesus. “What now?”

“The light.”

Something else that was confusing. He knew she wasn’t shy, and she had a killer body. “How about we leave the one in the bathroom on with the door closed partway?”

She straightened, thought for a moment and then nodded. “I think that might work better, actually.”

Yep. She was a strange one, all right. But that nice round bottom of hers wasn’t easily dismissed. He watched her walk to the bathroom, flip on the light and angle the door just so.

“I doubt you’ll need the jacket,” he said.

She only smiled and moved to the wall switch that controlled the two lamps.

“Why don’t you get rid of those jeans while you’re up?” He’d take care of the bra, no problem.

“Okay. Good idea.” The room dimmed. “You take off yours, too.”

Ethan watched her approach while he unbuckled and unzipped. It was a little too dark for his taste. Once he finally got her naked, he wanted to see her. Staying right where he was, he lifted his ass and pushed down his jeans.

“Here, let me help.” She pulled them off his feet and flung the Wranglers at the chair.

He considered asking her to let a little more light into the room, but she dropped her jacket and climbed onto the bed. She got on her knees and steadied herself with a hand on his belly. And then threw a leg over his thighs and straddled him.

His cock seemed determined to test the resilience of his boxer briefs. “Your turn,” he said, reaching for her zipper.

With a throaty laugh, she shoved his hand away. “Not when I have you exactly where I want you.”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his knuckles against her denim-covered crotch.

She gasped and squeezed her thighs together, only his hips were in the way. He already knew she was strong, but how she was gripping him...holy shit. Managing to move his trapped hand, he put more pressure on her crotch.

Sophie made a strangled sound. Shifting her body, she captured his hand. Intertwining her fingers with his, she pulled his arm up over his head as she leaned down to bite his lip. The aggressive move surprised him in a good way. With his free hand he unhooked her bra.

The left strap slid off her shoulder and bared her breast. He could see the rosy tip, though not as clearly as he wanted. The moment she realized what had happened, she released him. She leaned back, cursing, and trying to pull the bra up.

Like hell.

He slid his hand in before she could cover herself. And cupped her exposed breast, rubbing his thumb over the hard nipple while baring the other.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Don’t hide yourself.”

Closing her eyes, she arched slightly, filling his palm. He kneaded gently and she sighed, a soft breathy sound he wanted to hear again.

“No.” She shrank back.

“Please, Sophie. I know you’re nervous, but I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

“Stop,” she said, eyes wide but impossible to read in the dimness.

He immediately lowered his hands. “Did I do something wrong?”

An awkward silence fell between them. She hadn’t climbed off, so he figured that was a good sign. She also hadn’t fixed her bra, but he was afraid to so much as glance anywhere below her neck until he understood what had just happened. He’d never had a woman tell him no or to stop before. This was brand-new territory and he was at a complete loss on how to respond. Ego played no part here. If anything, he felt like shit.

“Whatever I did to upset you, I’m very sorry,” he said, resisting the urge to touch her, offer her comfort the only way he knew how. “I really am.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s me, I shouldn’t have let— Oh, shit. I hate this.” She leaned over the side of the bed and reached for the jacket on the floor.

“Hate what?” He tried to do the honorable thing and not stare at her breasts. Apparently he had the willpower of a rutting bull, which he wasn’t proud of.

She pulled something out of the pocket and hid it behind her back before he dragged his attention away from her breasts. Cosmic justice, he figured.

He barely had time to blink before she was all over him again. Kissing him, playing the aggressor once more, forcing his arm over his head, her warm soft body pressed close, her hard nipples grazing his chest...the feel of cold metal...

The hard band closing around his wrist jerked him from his haze. He heard a click. Confusion still messed with his brain. Sophie drew back, staring down at him, breathing hard.

He looked at his wrist handcuffed to the bedpost.

Sophie was into that kind of stuff? He wasn’t, but he didn’t mind accommodating her.

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