The Best Of Blaze - Six Sexy Romances. Jo Leigh
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Jason.
“Yes, we will,” she said at last.
She wrapped her arms around him, intending to kiss him, but instead she put her head on his chest. For just a moment she needed to feel him wrapped around her. She needed to know this was more than just physical because her emotions were still chaotic, swirling through her like a tornado across the plains. And she needed to be sure that he was solid enough to take the buffeting from the wind.
He rubbed his hands over her back, his fingers massaging her sides all the way down to her butt and then back up. Those long, languid caresses brought her more fully into her body and she felt the tension and worry drift away.
There was only the two of them and this moment.
Nothing lasted forever.
But she wanted this time with Jason to be lived to the fullest. Not hiding or running or worrying.
Tomorrow she might struggle with that, but for tonight...she was his.
And he was hers.
She lifted her face to his and he lowered his head, his mouth falling on hers with all the pent-up desire she felt sweeping through her own body. With all the lust and need they had awakened in the lawyer’s office. She’d thought she’d pushed it aside but realized the fires had only been banked, not extinguished.
His tongue pushed deep into her mouth as his hands grabbed her ass and lifted her off her feet.
She wrapped her legs around his lean waist and held on to his shoulders as the night swirled around her and she heard a moan. It was deep, raw and needy.
* * *
JASON SLIPPED HIS hands up the back of her thighs, clutching them to hold her up but also because he loved the feel of her flesh under his hands. Her skin was supple and smelled sweet. Under the perfume was another musk that was all Molly. Seductive and sensual, it aroused him as much as touching her thighs did.
He fanned his fingers out wider to reach her inner thighs and to feel the heat of her sex on his skin. She was so hot. And so damned soft. Softer than anything else he’d ever touched. He held her, his tongue in her mouth, his cock hard against the apex of her thighs, and took everything she had to give.
She was lost. He’d felt the loneliness that had come off her in waves. He’d experienced the same thing himself as a teen. That need had awakened in him a keen longing to give her something of himself. To make promises he knew he could never keep no matter how much he wanted to. To show her that she wasn’t alone. That they could lose themselves in each other and forget everything else for a few bliss-filled hours with only the stars and moon looking on.
He tore his mouth from hers, his breath sawing in and out. She bit his lower lip gently and then licked her own. He groaned and stopped thinking about anything but his thickening erection and how much he wanted her.
He took two steps back until he felt the cold metal of the pickup truck behind him. The gate dug into his back as Molly undulated against him. He felt her long, cool fingers on his neck; she stroked his pulse, which he knew raced.
He shifted her weight to one arm and saw her tight nipples pressing against the fabric of her sundress. Unable to help himself, he leaned down to suck on one of them through her clothing. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him. He palmed her other breast as he continued to suck on her nipple.
He felt the strain a little in his muscles, but he’d been working out every day for most of his adult life and if he couldn’t hold on to this wild cowgirl while he was making love to her, then what was the point? She moaned his name and he felt her hands in his hair, tracing the shape of his ear before moving down his neck again.
She stroked his chest and then wedged her hand between their bodies to run her fingers down the line of his zipper. His hips jerked forward and he had to shift his hold on her as a wave of need, hot like a solar flare, washed over him.
There was no hiding his reaction to her. And he didn’t want to. For the first time since he’d come back to Cole’s Hill and the Bar T Ranch, he felt like he was being true to himself. Every breath he took was filled with the scent of her. The feel of her under his fingers inflamed every sense in his body. He was compelled by the need to fill her completely.
He turned to set her ass on the tailgate and stand between her legs as he tangled his hands in the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging lightly on it. She let her head fall back, exposing the long length of her neck. He kissed it, moving his mouth slowly down to her collarbone where the fabric of her sundress blocked his access to her skin.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tightened her legs around his hips, then shoved the strap of her dress down. He groaned in approval and kissed his way farther down her arm. Moving slowly back toward her torso, he followed the neckline of her dress, dipping his tongue underneath to taste more of her.
She was addictive. He wanted to see her stretched out under him. Naked so that he could explore her entire body. Wanted nothing but his hands and mouth on her. Wanted her to need him and nothing else.
He pushed her legs farther apart, caressing her knees and slowly moving his hands down her legs to her feet. He took off her left boot and set it on the ground before turning his attention to the right. He removed it as well and then pulled off her socks.
He smiled when he saw they were decorated with pink flamingoes. He set them on the truck bed. Lifting her left foot, he placed it in the center of his chest. She wriggled her toes and he rubbed the arch of her foot.
“Your feet are small.”
“Really? They seem just right to me.”
He ran his finger along her instep, tickling her, and she squirmed to get away, causing the hem of her dress to ride up her thighs. All thoughts of smallish feet and tickling her dropped away. He noticed the large bruise on the top of her foot and pressed a gentle kiss to it. Ranching was hard work. He’d ask her what happened later, make sure it wasn’t causing her pain. But right now he wanted to focus on bringing them both pleasure. His fingers glided up her leg. It was strong, muscled from years of working on the ranch—he always associated Molly with strength.
Despite what her father had said, and what she was going through now, he didn’t believe she was hiding on the Bar T—that wasn’t Molly Tanner’s way. She was the kind of woman who met life head-on and took what she wanted. And for some reason she wanted him.
He hoped he wouldn’t disappoint her. But at this moment, with the scent of her filling every breath he took, the only thing he could be sure of was how much he wanted her.
He just needed to be inside of her. To prove to himself that he wasn’t lost.
Damn.
He shut down his mind and just stared at her long, slim legs. Her skirt still covered the top of her thighs and suddenly the clothing wasn’t tolerable to him anymore.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, the words torn from some place deep in his soul.
“I’m not,” she argued.
“You are.” His fingers drifted higher and felt something rough on her inner thigh. Somehow he hadn’t noticed it earlier. Leaning lower, he examined her leg in the dusky twilight.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Burn scar from the time Annabelle and I tried smoking in the barn, but Jeb busted us. I dropped the cigarette in surprise but caught it between my legs, not wanting to start a fire in the hay. It burned my jeans instead.”
He touched the scar again, lightly. The skin was raised, but it wasn’t as rough as it would have been when she’d first got it.
“When was this?”
“The spring before you arrived.”
“You tried smoking at twelve?” he asked. No matter how much he learned about her, there was still a lot he didn’t know.
“Yeah,