One Night Before Marriage

Her fingers closed over his as she struggled for the hose, drenching them. ‘Stop it!’

Mud spattered their feet. The smell of wet earth rose around them as her breasts rubbed against his chest. She pulled back, her T-shirt plastered to her body, her pebbled nipples jutting up at him.

‘Now look what you’ve done,’ she muttered, swiping her face.

Oh, yeah. He was looking.

Then for just a moment laughter bubbled up, bright and sunny and uninhibited. ‘This’ll cost you, Mr Jamieson.’

The hose slipped to the ground, spraying water over their feet. ‘Tack it onto the rent.’

‘I was thinking along the line of no showers for a week. Teach you a lesson in water conservation.’

‘Then I’d be forced to share yours.’

Her eyes shot laser-bright blue sparks as he hauled her up against him. He felt the exasperation sing through her arm as she pushed at his chest, relished it as he tugged her back against him. It had been a while since he’d enjoyed a tussle with a woman, even if he’d have preferred somewhere more horizontal.

‘What’s the problem, Miz Grace, afraid of a little water?’ Silky legs rubbed against his and he shifted to take advantage. Something about this woman called to him. Her vitality, her innocence? It was more than physical, although his physical needs took precedence at this moment.

Everywhere her body touched him came alive. He knew she felt his erection when she tensed and went very still. That knowledge and the taut, unspoken silence hummed in his ears, beat through his blood. He lowered his mouth until it was an intimate suggestion away from hers. ‘Or are you afraid of something else?’

Her eyes snapped shut. ‘I’m afraid the water’s wasting. I’m afraid when the water bill comes I won’t be able to pay. So now you know, turn off the tap.’

It cost her to admit that, and he eased back. ‘Is that why you let the garden go?’ he asked softly.

Diamond drops clung to her lashes, her pretty mouth was a thin line. ‘You think I like a baked yard?’ She shook her head, scattering droplets.

‘I apologise.’ Reluctantly he disentangled his body from hers and stepped away to shut off the tap. He wanted to help, but knew her pride wouldn’t allow her to accept cash. He’d have to find another way.

He didn’t expect her to be right behind him picking up her hat when he turned. His foot slipped as he tried to compensate and they slid to the ground in a slow-motion pinwheel of thrashing limbs and hot skin. He heard her strangled cry, felt the cool sensation of damp earth rise up to meet them as he frantically twisted his body to take the brunt of the fall.

He ended up on his back, Carissa’s legs around his waist, her breasts fragrant pillows against his nose.

Her moan—or was it his?—sounded through his muffled senses as his hands reached up and clamped on firm buttocks. She squirmed, one nipple brushing his face, his mouth. He acted on instinct, turning his cheek and closing his lips around the hard little bud beneath the cotton.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.