Chapter Seven
The next day, Ransom trailed a couple of paces behind Jane as they wandered a farmer’s market. They’d already gone to the heritage site and now had stopped to pick up some fruit and vegetables on the cheap. He carried two bags in each hand, all full of tomatoes, cucumbers, bell peppers, and romaine lettuce.
“What we don’t eat over the next couple of days,” she said now, glancing at him over her shoulder, “you can take to the firehouse for the rest of the guys when you go in for your next duty shift.”
He lifted his chin in affirmation, and she turned back around to look where she was going. Stopping at a stall with raw honey on display, she directed her delighted gaze to the vendor. “I love raw honey. And it’s really good for you.”
“Yes, it is.” The older man in jeans and yellow tee-shirt with a drawing of a beehive in the center agreed. “Has lots of antioxidants, is good to use as a sweetener, and it’s yummy,” he finished with a gap-toothed grin.
Jane’s laugh hit Ransom low in his gut, and the desire that had been simmering all day burst into a full boil. He managed to hold onto his impatience while she chit-chatted with the vendor as she bought a big jar of honey, but when she acted like she would be content to linger at other stalls, he transferred all the bags he was carrying to one hand and put his free hand at the base of her spine. “Let’s go, honey,” he urged.
She glanced at him, startled. “Why?” She looked around then back at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Hmm.” The hard-on he was getting made it difficult to walk, but he’d manage. “We need to get home.”
“Home? Why?” She flipped her wrist to check her watch. “It’s not even three o’clock yet.”
“Because these bags are hiding something stiffer than cucumbers,” he muttered, propelling her faster. “And I want to get home so we can do something about it.”
Her lips formed an O and her eyes opened wide. Then she clamped her mouth shut and giggled.
“Glad you think it’s funny,” he said, hustling her over to the car. He popped the trunk and put the sacks inside, then closed the lid and unlocked the car. She hopped inside and was belted up by the time he slid behind the wheel.
“I don’t necessarily think it’s funny,” she told him. “It’s a compliment, I suppose, since all we’ve been doing is walking around.” She looked at him askance. “Is that what did it for you? Watching me walk around all day?”
“You’ve got a sexy ass, sweetness, but, no, that wasn’t it. Well, that kept my motor humming, yes, but it was your laugh that shot me into drive. So to speak.” He maneuvered the car out of the lot and pointed it toward home.
She reached over and curled her hand around his nape, her fingers sifting through his hair. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He shot her half a grin. “You like gettin’ me hard, baby?”
“I like knowing I do it for you,” she murmured. “Just like you do it for me.”
“Soon’s we get home, I’m gonna do it to you.”
She shivered. “I can’t wait,” she whispered.
* * *
When they got back to Ransom’s, he barely took the time to drop the market bags onto the kitchen island before yanking Jane into his arms. His mouth dropped onto hers, desperate, hungry. Hot.
Out of control.
Her lips parted, his tongue slid inside, and the minute it did she went wild. She didn’t care they were still in the kitchen. She barely was aware when he bent and lifted her into his arms. All she cared about was his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth, and the remarkable sensations he made her feel.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing against him as he carried her down the hallway, demonstrating his strength. She loved how it made her feel ultra-feminine.
As soon as they reached his bed he put her on her feet but didn’t let her go. One big hand fisted in her hair, the slight tugging against her scalp shooting tingles straight down her spine even as they spiraled outward to tighten her nipples. His other hand tightened on her nape as he leaned into her, bending her back, taking the kiss deeper.
She’d never had it as good as she had with Ransom.
And she wanted more.
She wanted all of Ransom Raines and his long, hard body. She craved him like she’d craved nothing else in her life. It didn’t matter that he was almost a decade younger than her. It didn’t matter that her body wasn’t as tight and fit as his. The only thing that mattered was them, here.
Now.
She pulled his tee-shirt from his jeans, sliding her hands up the hot skin of his back as they kissed. He gave a low growl and yanked her closer, one broad hand gliding low on her back, pressing her against his raging erection.
Jane wiggled free and jerked her own tee-shirt off. The protest Ransom had been about to make died a quick death as his gaze zeroed in on her bra-clad breasts. She couldn’t hold back a chuckle at his distraction.
His gaze shot to her face. “You laughin’ at me again?” he asked, his voice deep and raspy. Full of need.
“With you, Ransom.” She unfastened her jeans and shoved them down her legs. Standing in front of him in just her bra and panties, watching his eyes flare with heated lust, she felt her own sizzling lust burst into flame.
In seconds, he’d stripped nude and surged forward to finish disrobing her. Then he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed, making her bounce and laugh. But her laughter was extinguished as she caught a good look at him.
His thick cock rose stiff and proud from a neat nest of curls. Her gaze skittered over him, delighting in the taut muscles of his thighs, the ridged abdomen and wide pectorals covered with a smattering of hair that begged for fingers to comb through it.
Then he came down over her, skin against skin. Their mouths collided, hands roamed, hers and his, and it seemed as if every square inch he touched was connected straight to between her thighs.
His mouth glided across her jaw, down her neck, wandered across her breast to close on her nipple. He pulled it sharply into his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue stroking against the tip. “Ransom,” she breathed. Heat shot from her nipple to her core. They’d just gotten started, but she was ready. It wouldn’t take much for her to go off like a bottle rocket.
She traced a line from his shoulder down his arm, finding his wrist, bringing his hand right to where she needed it.
His fingers delved between her slick folds. “Christ, Jane. Fuck. You’re so wet.” His lips came back to hers while his fingers stroked her sex. His tongue slid into her mouth, one finger slid into her sheath, and his thumb pressed against her clit.
She gasped and undulated her hips. Arched her back, which meant she lost his lips, but when he went back to her nipple, she decided that was okay. “Ransom,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”
He moved to her other breast and kept right on going. He slid two fingers into her pussy, and she squirmed against his hand.
“You,” she moaned, grabbing at his wrist, now desperate for him to stop. “I want you inside me.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than his hand withdrew from her sex, his body lifting off hers. A drawer slid open, and she heard the rip of paper. His knees came between hers, spreading her legs wider, right before his mouth crushed hers in a brutal kiss.
Then he was inside her, buried to the hilt, filling her to the brim.
“Yes,” she mewed.
He moved, fast, hard, his hot body jolting her with his savage thrusts. He pushed one of her thighs up against his side, the other one he pulled around his waist, getting him into position to go even deeper. Thrust harder.
She wanted more.
She was on the edge of fulfillment, knew it wouldn’t take much to tip her over.
“Ransom,” she gasped.
His head came up, his eyes dark and fierce. “Give it to me.” His hips pumped against hers, his pelvis smashing into her engorged clit with each thrust. “Give. It. To Me.”
“Ransom!” she cried out as her orgasm started.
Jane arched, shaking and quivering and moaning with her climax. Vaguely aware of his mouth on her throat, her focus remained on his body still moving inside hers. Mostly she was focused on the explosion of her release coursing through her even as Ransom continued to pound inside her.
As she was coming down he drove into her one last time, his groan low and tortured as he came, too. Then his weight relaxed onto her. She wrapped her arms around him, curled her leg deeper around his waist, tightened her thigh into his side, cocooning him in her body as best she could. She wanted to hold onto him, this man who showed her that age didn’t matter, that the past didn’t matter.
That what mattered was the here and now, and what they were building together.