Free The Cattleman by Angi Morgan Page B

you?”
    Memories from their night in the mountains made her fingers curl around the edge of the quilt. She kicked the covers away from her legs. Desire heating her skin made it ache for the coolness of the crisp air.
    Light from the storm hung in the room long enough to see his jaw clench. “I don’t think sleep’s in the cards tonight.”
    For a second she thought he referred to making love to her. Then she understood what day it was. Of course he wouldn’t be sleeping. It was the reason they’d come here. He’d been shot a year ago today.
    Her body cooled in the mountain air. Then she saw Nick’s belt was unbuckled. She didn’t need any light to recognize the sound of a zipper slipping open or his jeans falling to the cabin floor. It wasn’t as far to the bed as when he’d been sitting in the old chair. She didn’t have long to wait.
    She wasn’t cold any longer. The thought of how they’d warm each other was pushing everything else from her mind. She shimmied out of her own jeans, leaving the unattractive long underwear in sight.
    Even unable to see Nick’s features she knew he laughed slightly at the sight. She didn’t care. She’d leave them on if it lightened his heart for a few minutes. Her fingers were at her waistband, ready to lift her legs awkwardly and pull them off before he took another step.
    “Hold on,” he whispered again.
    His hands covered hers, lifting them to her sides. He gently tugged and her leggings curled down her thighs, followed by two burning trails made by his knuckles. He rolled a wool sock to her toes, rubbing her ankle, then massaging her foot. She could have died and gone to heaven right then. But her experience with Nick let her know that dying wasn’t necessary... Heaven was just minutes away.
    First one foot and then the other. He kneaded her sore muscles right up to her thighs. She gasped, not from embarrassment or shock... “Pure bliss. You must have a lot of practice massaging women to have honed your technique to perfection.”
    He laughed from his chest that time. “The horses seem to like it. Roll over. I know what’s really sore.”
    “That’s not—”
    He crossed her ankles and began flipping her to her stomach. She allowed her body to follow and immediately received a deep kneading. His comfortable, knowing touch soon made her relax. And moan. Especially when he reached her back and shoulders.
    “Stop tensing up.”
    “Are you kidding?” she mumbled into the pillow. “You’ll need a bowl to scoop me into soon. I’m melting like ice cream.”
    “Not yet you aren’t.” His tone changed, both in his voice and hands.
    Instead of the deep massage her muscles had wanted, his strokes were long and feather soft, feeding a different craving. He no longer touched her through her clothing. His calloused fingers skimmed across her skin exciting her entire body. He leaned over her, nuzzling the base of her neck.
    Barely touching her with his lips, he then dragged the tip of his tongue to her shoulder. She wanted to squeal with delight at the way he caused her body to react.
    Since he leaned on the side of the bed, she turned onto her back again. But before she relaxed, she removed her shirts. Nick helped, tossing them on the chair behind him. She began to remove her bra, but his hands delayed her action, gently pushing her shoulders to the mattress.
    All the while, the storm raged outside the thick-paned window. The lightning was more rapid followed by almost constant rolling thunder.
    Rugged fingertips traced the outline of the top of her bra. She might have been wearing long underwear and working on a ranch, but the black lace made her feel at home. Much more herself. Even attractive. Almost as attractive as how Nick was making her feel at that moment.
    “You are so dang beautiful.” He fingered an errant strand of hair from her face.
    She was far from beautiful and parted her lips to protest, only to have Nick pull her quickly to him and slash his mouth