He refused to acknowledge the clenching of his chest at the way she’d said she was “definitely not a virgin.” Picturing other men touching Lori, making love to Lori, shouldn’t matter to him, so he forced himself to ignore his senseless possessiveness where she was concerned.
But he couldn’t ignore the way she had her arms wrapped around herself and how hard she was shivering. “Take your clothes off.”
She turned to him with a bemused expression. “Excuse me?”
Finally realizing how it had sounded, he said, “You’re going to get chilled if you keep your wet clothes on.”
“Why, Grayson,” she drawled, “I didn’t know you cared.”
Hell, but she grated on him. And turned him on more and more with every one of her sassy responses.
“You’re going to be even more useless on the farm if you get sick.”
Before she turned away from him, he saw something move through her eyes, another flash of hurt that had him feeling even more like a guilty ass. Especially when she hadn’t done a half bad job on the fence this afternoon.
He walked to the window and looked out at the rain pelting his land. Just as he’d never intended to share this cabin with anyone, he hadn’t planned on sharing his land, either. But now he could see Lori everywhere he looked, could sense her footprints, her touch, in so many things that had been all his up until now.
For days the two of them had been acting like kids out on the playground, with him pulling her pigtails while she threw rocks at him. Someone had to be the bigger person. He knew it needed to be him.
“You did a go—”
The words died on his lips as he turned and saw Lori standing in only her underwear, her jeans and socks and boots in a wet heap at her bare feet as she pulled her wet T-shirt up over her head. The muscles of her taut abdomen rippled slightly under her creamy skin, and her br**sts threatened to spill out from over the top of her lacy bra.
The first second she’d gotten out of her car after crashing into his fence post, he’d thought she was gorgeous. But Jesus, looking at her in her underwear, he was on the verge of having a heart attack. Especially when the fabric barely covering her was so wet and see-through it was almost sexier than if she’d been wearing nothing at all.
When Lori had pulled her shirt all the way off and dropped it to the floor, she lifted her chin as she stared back at him. “Is this how you wanted me?” She gestured to her bra and panties. “Or maybe you meant that I should take everything off?”
She was a foot smaller than he, but as she stared him down inside the cabin that had only ever been his, he forgot how small she was, forgot that she was deliberately trying to rile him up, forgot everything but how damned much he wanted her.
Grayson didn’t want to want her.
Hell, he didn’t want to want anyone or anything the way he wanted her.
His lack of control made him angry at her.
But it made him even angrier at himself.
Wanting her like this felt like weakness. A terrible weakness that had been eating away at him one second, one minute, one hour at a time over the past few days since she’d invaded his space, his farm. His life.
Somehow he’d let himself get caught in a vicious circle of wanting, and then denying. Wanting, then denying.
And yet, even as he was telling himself there was right and wrong, black and white; as the echo of her taunt rang out in the log cabin; as the rain poured down outside the windows and the fire leapt to life in the stone fireplace, everything that had ever made sense to Grayson could go straight to hell for all he cared.
He was within reaching distance a moment later, had his hands on her and her nearly naked body pulled tightly against his in the span of another.
And in the end, all that was left was his primal need to have Lori...the need to make her his.
His mouth came down on hers just as hers lifted to his and that first taste of her was sweet, so much sweeter than anything he’d ever known, that he had to plunge deeper, had to take more from her than a first kiss should have allowed.
Grayson was in the prime of his life, strong from the intensely physical work he did every day on his land. But being this close to Lori, having her wet hair in his hands, her lips, her tongue against his, was making his heart pound so hard that he wondered if he was anywhere near strong enough to live through it.
He couldn’t get enough of her mouth, couldn’t seem to learn the contours, the flavors, of her fast enough. With his tongue, his lips, he traced hers again and again, loving the way she gasped with pleasure when he teased the corners where her lips met, when he sucked her tongue into his mouth, and especially when he scored her full lower lip with the edges of his teeth. And then, she was doing the same to him, kissing him in a way no woman had ever kissed him before, with such passion and desire and focus that he didn’t have a prayer of continuing to lead their wild dance.
No, all he could do was partner her in movements that should have been familiar, but felt fresh and new and oh-so-sweet.
She’d tasted his neck on the horse with the tip of her tongue, but now he was the one bending her back so that she arched into his arms and he could run kisses from her gorgeous mouth down to her chin and over the edge to the underside of her jaw. She shivered in his arms and her ni**les pressed hard through the white silk of her bra against his chest as he ran his tongue all the way down the line of her neck, until it dipped into the hollow of her collarbone.
His name fell from her lips as he let his mouth roam over the swell of her br**sts above the silk and lace.
This was so much more than he’d ever thought to have of her, and it should have been enough. But, damn it, it wasn’t. Not even close. Not even when he sucked one taut peak between his lips and laved her nipple through the silk. And when he reached back to undo her bra and finally bared her br**sts to his hands and mouth and gaze, that wasn’t enough, either.
Still holding her arched back against him with one hand, with the other he cupped her and brought her to his mouth again and again, first one breast and then the other. Sweet Lord, he couldn’t remember ever touching such softness or witnessing such beauty. Lori was so responsive, a woman made for loving.
The shaky grasp he had on his sanity stretched thin, then broke entirely as he reached down for her panties and pulled the last of the silk from her body.
* * *
Being in his arms, being touched by Grayson was nothing like any lovemaking she’d ever experienced before. Yes, Lori knew how to make sure she came while in bed with a man, whether he was focused on her pleasure or not, but with Grayson she knew she wouldn’t need to do one damn thing to make sure she was satisfied.