Free Her Outlaw by Geralyn Dawson Page A

chance to run, Emma.”
    She sucked in a quick breath. “I’m not running.”
    Impossibly, his gaze grew even hotter, but she sensed he drew upon a deep well of control. He took her hand and led her inside the stone structure.
    It was a place made for a tryst. Emma’s quick survey spied a basket of fruit, a bottle of wine, and two crystal glasses. Tall candlesticks stood at the ready beside the oversized lounging couch that dominated the space. He’d prepared for her. The man had been sure of himself, and certain of her.
    “A glass of wine, Texas?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.
    “No, thank you.” Emma shivered.
    “Strawberries?”
    “I’m fine.”
    “I beg to differ. You are more than fine. You are fascinating. Alluring. Enticing. You’ve seduced me, Emma Tate, and it is quite beyond my original intentions.”
    The sweet sense of feminine power rushed through her as he turned her to face him. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “So damned beautiful.” Then his mouth captured hers once again, and Emma abandoned all effort to think as she gave herself up to the heady pleasure of simply feeling.
    His practiced hands stroked her, caressed her—her face, her neck, her arms. She sensed air upon her skin as her dress fell away. His lips released her mouth and trailed lower, finding the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met. Emma couldn’t hold back a purr as she arched away to allow him better access.
    At the same time, she wanted her hands on him. She wanted to skim her hands across his bare skin, to know the sensation of corded muscle beneath her palm. To feel the rasp of his chest hair against her naked breasts.
    As she lifted her hand to tug at his neck scarf, he scooped her into his arms and carried her the few short steps to the couch. Emma lay back, her eyelids heavy as she watched him shrug from his jacket and yank off his neck scarf. He knelt on one knee above her, reached for her sleeves, and bared her upper body to his heated gaze.
    His gaze swept over her, lingered on the swell of her breasts rising above the lace trim of her chemise. He noted the unique front fastening corset her seamstress mother had designed with approval. “Full of surprises, aren’t you, Texas?”
    Moments later, he’d bared her completely to the waist. He shifted, straddled her, drawing Emma’s gaze to the prominent bulge at his crotch. Her body responded with a liquid heat that readied her even as she moaned at the first touch of a man’s hand on her bare breast in over a decade. She trembled. She shook, strung tighter than a bow. Oh, she’d missed this.
    “Such beautiful jewels.”
    “It’s ruby. The pendant is a ruby.”
    “I wasn’t referring to your necklace,” he said with amusement. His finger trailed across the swell of her breast. “Your skin is like silk. So soft. Creamy.” His thumb brushed her taut nipple. “I’ll bet you taste as beautiful as you look.”
    He leaned down and licked the valley between her breasts. Emma gasped and Dair murmured, “Mmm. I was right.”
    Then the man devoted his attentions to her breasts, kneading and squeezing, kissing. The rough surface of his tongue rasped against her nipples as he laved them, one after the other.
    Emma twisted her head from side to side, arching her back, offering herself to his tender assault. When finally, he drew her slowly into his mouth and suckled, she moaned softly.
    Sensation stole throughout her body. A pulse beat in her womb. Tension increased. More, she wanted more. She clutched his head to her, drowning in pleasure, glorying in the magic Dair MacRae created. She wanted it to last forever; she wanted him to take her to the next level right now. Urgently, Emma slid her hands down to the placket on his shirtfront and yanked at his buttons. Dair released her long enough to shrug off his shirt and yank off his undershirt. Emma sighed aloud when the weight of his bare chest came down upon her.
    Then, a voice intruded. “Dair?” Jake Kimball