expect...”
She cut him off by setting her palm to his groin. “I’d expect an orgasm, mister. But that’s it. Yeah, I’d like more than that, but I’m a big girl. If this is all we have together, I can be okay with that.” Hopefully.
His breathing was labored, but he held himself stock-still, letting her fingers explore his length through the thick fabric. She figured for a guy with his restraint it was almost a gilded invitation.
He tried again. “We’re in a barn, for Christ sakes. In the middle of a storm.”
She pressed her lips to the skin beneath his ear, delighting in his shudder. “Would you, could you, in a barn?” she teased. “Won’t you try it, Sam I am?”
Before she could react, he reached behind and swung her around. She tumbled into his lap. An indignant squeal escaped her, but a secret, liquid thrill ran through her body at his strength, at the warm bands of muscle that held her securely.
“You’re asking for trouble, little girl.”
She squirmed in his lap. “Am I going to get it?”
“Christ.” It was more a hiss than a word.
Growing up in Dearling, Texas, she wasn’t a stranger to a man with muscles. Still, Sawyer’s were something special, like chiseled stone—if stone flexed and quivered when touched. He was sculpted muscles creased by indents that seemed made for her tongue.
She wondered what he’d do if she licked him. Then she didn’t have to wonder anymore, because she was right there, snuggled up against the soft hair on his chest, the tight muscles underneath. On impulse, she touched her tongue to the flat brown of his nipple. His hips bucked beneath her, nudging her with the hard ridge of his cock, sending heat to her core.
She knew he thought she was too innocent, as if she had only ever had sex on her back with the lights off—and, yeah, that was a good way. But she could be adventurous too. It wasn’t a hardship to think of dirty things to do to his rock-hard body.
Climbing off his lap, she got down on her knees between his. She saw the carnal understanding in his eyes, the wanting. Suddenly, she was nervous. She didn’t have any particular expertise in the oral department. Hers was a standard fare delivery. Maybe she had been stupid to think this could help, that she could relieve his stress and soothe him, like some sort of magical sex fairy.
Still, it couldn’t hurt.
She undid the button on his jeans, though the zipper almost opened itself against the pressure building there. Right under the fabric, across the cold zipper, she felt the heat of his erection. It was really kind of snug in there, pointed down. She was afraid she’d yank on it wrong, and that was something she did not want to have to explain to Dr. Parker, the eighty-year-old town physician who had delivered her. An embarrassed blush spread over her face, and she put her hand to her mouth to cover a smile.
He gingerly pulled his cock out of his pants, wearing an amused expression. “You started this, not me.”
She slanted him a look from beneath her lashes. “And I’m going to finish it.”
He laughed.
“Too much?”
“No, I like it—”
But she grasped his cock at the base and leaned in close, and he cut off with a sharp indrawn breath. Hmph. He liked it, as if she were a hamburger at the diner. Just for that, she was going to make him crazy.
His cock was thick with shadows, but light glistened off the tip. She kissed him, right there, enjoying the soft-slippery feel of him against her lips, reveling in the tension that suddenly knotted his thighs. The rain was loud and steady, but tucked into the corner of the barn, it only served as a backdrop for his uneven breathing and low groans.
She flicked her tongue out, catching the salty flavor, and ran her tongue along the slit. His entire body seemed to react with every flutter of her tongue, straining even as he stayed completely still.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Her lips parted as she took him into her mouth. She