Cassie showered and changed in record time. Partly because Hank had told her he’d pick her up in front of the bakery in thirty minutes and partly because she couldn’t wait to see him again. True to his word, he’d given no hints as to what he had planned for the day. She’d even invoked the “How will I know what to wear?” clause but that only yielded a very cryptic “Dress for the outdoors” followed by “and wear jeans.”

She wasn’t sure if the second part was related to their outing or if he simply liked the way her ass looked in bluejeans. She’d never considered her ass an asset, covered in denim or anything else for that matter, but Hank had insisted it was the sight of her very fine denim-clad “arse” that had given him a raging hard-on the first night they met. Then again, he seemed to enjoy her in a billowing skirt the next night as well. She felt her face flush just thinking about the things he’d done to her in the soft cool grass, things she’d very much like him to do again.

Cassie dressed in a rush, pairing her favorite jeans with a vintage Springsteen T-shirt she’d scored at a second-hand shop the last time Olivia dragged her out for a day of “adventure shopping.” Her curls weren’t cooperating, so for the time being at least, she surrendered the fight and gathered them into a ponytail. She decided to save the glam-makeup routine for the wedding and instead kept it simple with a swipe of mascara and a dab of lip gloss.

The wedding.

Ever since Matthew and Emily had announced their engagement, she’d been counting down the months, weeks, and then days until the big event. But now that it was finally here she wanted to slow time. Because the wedding meant the end of the weekend, and that meant the end of her time with Hank.

Her shoulders sagged. Some femme fatale she turned out to be. First ever weekend fling and there she was already getting all mopey. She straightened in front of the mirror. No sense getting all weepy. At least not yet. There would be plenty of time for that once she was back in Chicago surrounded by baked goods. For now, she was off on a real-life version of Mystery Date.

* * *

Hank curbed the silver Porsche in front of Sue’s Sweets & Treats. He’d considered taking the SUV Clayton had been driving, but at the last minute opted for something a bit “more.” The open Georgia roads beckoned, and not for a four-cylinder with an automatic transmission. And besides, this was still “less” compared to the fleet of luxury sports cars waiting for him back home. Christ, he’d even seen a mum driving thru town in a four-door version with a toddler seat strapped in the back. The mere thought of a high-performance vehicle with Cheerios scattered about the seat made him cringe. These cars were works of art meant to be driven by someone who appreciated what was housed underneath, not merely the name that was written on the back.

But as he stepped out of the car, the look on Cassie’s face had him regretting his decision.

“You know, when you said you were renting a car I figured you’d roll up in a Hyundai, maybe a Chevy Malibu, but a Porsche?”

Hank found himself at a loss for words. From the moment he’d stepped off the plane, he’d tried to think and act like an “average Joe,” or in his case an “average Hank.” But didn’t these men grow up dreaming of an afternoon behind the wheel of a Porsche 911? And wasn’t that exactly why so many rental companies made them available for single day use? Of course, if she thought the car he’d chosen for the day was outlandish, there was no telling how she would react to the rest of what he had planned.

“What can I say,” he offered in his defense. “I’m a bit of a petrol head. And although purchasing one of these cars can be quite cost prohibitive, as a rental they are surprisingly affordable.”

“Boys and their toys.” Cassie shook her head as though admonishing him, but the smile that stretched across her face revealed the joy she felt at discovering his passion. He found himself wanting to tell her more, to explain how his love of motor sports stemmed from his father’s near obsession and to describe in excruciating detail not only the various races he’d attended as a young boy, but about the occasions when his father had brought him to the pit or to meet with the team engineers.

Of course that was only during his younger years. Once he was of driving age a mere visit to the track wasn’t enough. His father had protested at first but in the end relented and arranged for him to take high-performance driving lessons from some of the best coaches the circuit had to offer. He wanted to tell Cassie about all of that and more. Like how his grandmum had eventually found out and put an end to his lessons or how despite all that he still snuck off for the occasional open-road drag race.

The weight of that realization hit him as he reached to open Cassie’s car door. Discussing his family and now his hobbies was new territory when it came to members of the opposite sex. But Cassie was different than any woman he’d ever met, and perhaps more surprising was how different he was when he was around her. He wanted to share things with her and have her do the same, to tell her his inner most thoughts and hear hers in return. He could do that as Hank Green, but even though he spoke from his heart, he was painfully aware that he was telling partial stories and half truths. And as Cassie lowered herself onto the calfskin seat he realized what he hoped more than anything was that the day would come when he could share pieces of his true persona, all of it, and that she would still be as accepting.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” she said.

Hank paused with the key in the air. “I’d ask if there was anything left to bake but I’ve seen the answer to that firsthand.”

She blushed the most glorious shade of pink. “Guilty as charged.”

“And your main duty, the wedding cake, that’s all sorted, yes?”

She nodded. “The caterer is sending a truck to pick it up later this morning.”

“Then no more worrying.” He reached over, using the pad of his thumb to gently smooth the crease that seemed to be between her brows far too frequently. “Today is ours, so just relax and enjoy the adventure.”

Cassie leaned back against the soft leather seats and smiled. “I’m all yours.”

* * *

The Georgia landscape sped by in a color-streaked blur.

“You drive like this is NASCAR,” Cassie teased.

Hank turned to look at her and smirked. “More like Formula One, seeing as how we aren’t going round in circles.”

Race cars were race cars. Like she knew the difference? But clearly Hank did. And he apparently not only enjoyed the sport as a spectator, but as a wannabe participant. She had to hand it to him though, he was good. In fact, he made driving the high-performance vehicle seem effortless. She took a moment to admire his beautiful profile as he maneuvered the winding country roads. Everything from his strong, finely stubbled jaw to his full sensual lips to the way his tousled hair fell across his brow. Hank Green was too delicious for words. And the way he handled that car, his firm grip commanding and controlling every move while pushing the limits higher and higher, was an undeniable turn on. She squirmed in her seat as she imagined climbing into his lap as soon as he put the car into park and straddling his hips, her lips finding his as her questing fingers found his button fly.

The GPS dinged to announce their arrival, pulling Cassie from her salacious daydream. Hank shifted to a lower gear and turned onto a gravel drive that led to a bright red barn.

“A stable?” she asked.

Hank nodded as he eased the car to a stop in front of the building. “It’s beautiful day. I thought we could explore on horseback.”

“Hank, I don’t know how to ride a horse.” She pointed to her chest. “City girl.”

“I thought you grew up in Wisconsin?”

She laughed. “Yes, but not on a dairy farm. I grew up in Madison, the state capital and home of the university and about a million acres of lakefront. If you want to take a kayak out for a spin, then I’m your girl, but a horse . . .”

“It’s easy. Like riding a bike.” He grinned. “Without the pedals.”

“Um yeah, if the bike was like six feet tall and a living breathing being that could buck and send you flying.”

He turned to face her full on. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. And she did. Despite the fact that she’d only known Hank a short time, she did trust him.

“Then come with me. I have an idea.” He took her hand, leading her into the barn.

“Don’t we have to check in at an office or something?”

Hank shook his head. “Everything’s been taken care of.” He walked the length of the stables, inspecting each and every horse before doubling back to the third stall. “This one.”

“For what?”

“For both of us.” His childlike grin had returned. “I’ll drive, you ride.”

There was no denying the fact that a morning with her arms wrapped around Hank’s torso sounded like the perfect way to spend an hour or two, but she could think of a few other ways to pass that time. “You know,” she said, trying her best to sound seductive, “if your goal is to have me pressed up against you, we can do that down here. . . . Naked.”

He drew her against him and let his hand glide over the curve of her ass. “Oh my Little Vixen, I plan to do just that.” He held her tight, his hips rolling against hers and sending a surge of heat racing through her core. He dipped his head and her eyes drifted closed. But instead of brushing his lips against her mouth, he touched them to the shell of her ear. “After the ride,” he whispered.

Cassie placed both hands on his chest and gave him a playful shove. “You’re impossible.”

“On the contrary,” he said, laughing at the expression on her face. “What I am is a horny bastard. But before I have my way with you in a hayloft, I’d like to share something with you.”

Well when he put it that way . . .

“Fine,” she said. “What’s first?”

“Brushing her down. Horses sweat when you run them, so if you don’t brush the loose hairs off first, and they get wet, she might try to shake them off.”

“And us?”

“Exactly.” He picked up two brushes and handed one to Cassie.

“You realize that little tidbit is not helping your case?” She looked down at the brush then glanced around the empty stable. “And shouldn’t this be done by people who work here? As in who actually know what they’re doing?”

Hank ignored her comment and instead placed his hand over hers. “Here, like this,” he said. “Imagine you’re sweeping a floor, and flick the dust and hair off her body.” He helped her and together they worked their way from the neck to the rear. When they finished, they repeated the process on the other side.

After rewarding the mare with a few words of softly spoken praise, Hank reached for what looked like a wool blanket. Cassie watched as he positioned it on the horse’s back then hoisted the leather saddle on top.

“So what made you choose this horse?” she asked.

“She reminds me of the first horse I ever rode. Marigold. She belonged to my mother, actually. My father bought her as a wedding gift.”

Hank had mentioned how statistically his mother had been too young to have breast cancer, and yet she was already a wife and mother? “They must have been quite young when they got married.”

Crap. She hadn’t intended to say that last part out loud, but Hank didn’t miss a beat. He answered matter-of-factly, keeping his eyes focused on the mare. “My father was twenty and my mum was only nineteen.”

“Shotgun wedding?” The words had no sooner left her mouth when she wished she could somehow shove them back in. For the love of God, what was wrong with her? She normally had more sense. Okay, granted not a lot, but she could at least manage a conversation without putting both her Keds so far into her mouth she could taste the laces. But around Hank it was like all inhibitions, not to mention her brain-to-mouth filter, went right out the window. With him she couldn’t seem to keep her thoughts to herself. She couldn’t keep her panties on either, but that was a different story. “Sorry,” she said. The heat in her cheeks told her that her face had turned bright red. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s like I just open my mouth and someone else starts talking.”

Hank laughed. “Don’t be, luv. Your unguarded moments are part of your charm.”

“Yeah,” she snorted. “Like a bull in a china shop.”

“Not at all. It’s actually quite refreshing.” Hank looked over his shoulder at her and smiled. “And endearing.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to get into my panties.”

Hank fed a thin black strap through a ring and pulled it tight. “Be that as it may, it’s still true. So few people ever speak their mind.” He tilted his head to one side as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Your brother does it too,” he said, before turning to give her a playful wink. “Perhaps it’s genetic.”

“It’s just not many people marry so young these days.”

“My dad’s family was very . . .” He paused, searching for the right word before finally settling on, “traditional. They insisted he marry if he wanted to live with my mum.”

“Seems a bit old fashioned.”

“You have no idea,” he murmured.

Her brows shot up. “Worse than that? What, did they insist he marry a virgin too? I mean, I thought that sort of stuff only happened in fairy tales. Or to Princess Di.” She cringed. “They don’t still do that, do they? I mean, Kate lived with Will before they got hitched.”

“I guess it depends on the country,” he said. “But I don’t think many invoke that rule anymore.”

She picked up a small tool with a brush on one side and a hook on the other. “Well that’s good. I mean, could you imagine anything worse?”

“Aside from having to wait until you were married to have sex?” He nodded to the item in her hand. “That’s a hoof pick. Be careful, it can be quite sharp.”

“Good to know. And good point about the no sex before marriage. Still, having an invasive procedure conducted by official medical staff, followed by the publication of the results on the national news, isn’t exactly part of most couples’ engagement. Plus, how many women are still a virgin after college?”

“Well Charles wasn’t most men. He was heir to the British throne.” He chuckled. “But yes, I imagine it would greatly curtail the dating pool.”

“No kidding. Guess it’s lucky for me I’m not in the market to marry a prince.”

Hank stilled.

“I mean seeing as how I’m not a virgin. And thanks to you, my potential re-virginization isn’t an issue anymore so . . .”

He raised a brow. “Your what?”

She placed the hoof cleaner back on the shelf and waved her hand through the air. “Long story that has to do with too much time in a kitchen.” She really just needed to stop talking before she ended up telling him she was a virgin until the age of twenty and how even then her foray into womanhood was an awkward, schnapps-inspired night where she learned the hard way that a blow job did not, it turns out, involve any blowing.

“You’re quite good at that,” she said, clumsily changing the subject.

A look of pride filled Hank’s face. “My riding instructor had a strict rule: You couldn’t ride the horse unless you first knew how to take care of her. And when we were done for the day he’d always have me brush her down and clean her hooves.” He glanced up at her from beneath a mane of his own unruly hair and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you help with that too.”

“I’m not so sure I want to be that close to the back end.” She winced. “Don’t horses kick?”

“It will be fine. After a long ride you two will know each other much better.” When he was satisfied that all the straps were securely fastened, he went to work on the bridle, sweet-talking the mare the entire time. When he was done he turned his attention back to Cassie.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or jealous,” she teased.

“Shall we?” he said, motioning toward the barn door.

She fell into step beside him as they made their way into the bright sunlight. Halfway to the door, he grabbed a ridding helmet that hung from a peg on the wall and handed it to her.

“Just a precaution,” he quickly reassured. “I’d never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you.”

Cassie took the helmet from him. She eyed it skeptically then tried rather unsuccessfully to wiggle it down on her head. She’d only made it about halfway when it stopped. “I don’t think it fits.”

“Here,” Hank said, He reached around, gently tugging the hair tie loose and letting her auburn curls fall freely around her face. “That will help.” He tucked a few stray strands behind her ears. When he was done he lingered, his knuckles brushing against her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

His touch ignited her skin. Cassie looked up at him from beneath her lashes, and all at once she wished they weren’t outside the barn but rather up in the hayloft, or in one of the stalls. Hell, if he wanted to take her on the hood of his car she probably wouldn’t have objected. But Hank was near giddy in his excitement to share something with her that was obviously so near to his heart. Cassie wondered if that was because it was a passion he knew his mother shared or if he merely developed his love of riding over time. Either way, it was important to him and he wanted her to share it will her. That alone had her pushing the thought of crazy car sex out of her mind and instead shoving a riding helmet onto her head.

“Like this?”

“Let me,” he said, straightening the helmet and buckling the strap under her chin. There was little doubt that she looked like a colossal dork. She couldn’t even pull off looking cute in a baseball cap. In a safety helmet she knew she didn’t stand a chance. But you would have never known it judging by the look on Hank’s face. His expression was not only excitement and joy, but something more, something darker and more intense that made a spot deep inside her spark to life. But as much as she wanted to explore not only the look he was giving her, but her reaction as well, she tucked those thoughts away for later. Right now there was the matter of a horse that needed riding.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, so how do I do this?”

“Quite simple,” he said. “Just put your foot in the stirrup and . . .” He did as he had just said and mounted the horse. “Get on.” He grinned as he held out his hand. “Your turn.”

Cassie took his offered hand as she slid her left foot into the metal stirrup. Here goes nothing , she thought as she boosted herself up. It took a pull from Henry and a swing of her leg, but somehow she found herself wedged into the saddle behind him. That wasn’t so bad. Just don’t look down.

“Hold on tight.”

She was way ahead of him on that one. Cassie had already wrapped her arms around Hank’s waist, molding herself against his back and resting her cheek against his shoulder.

With a tug of the reigns he turned the horse toward the trail at the far side of the lot. They started out slowly but once they reached the edge of the field he made a noise, and before Cassie even knew what was happening, the horse took off like a shot. She squealed, although to her surprise it wasn’t in fear as she would have thought, but in delight. The sheer power of the animal beneath her, moving almost as one with Hank, wasn’t terrifying, it was exhilarating. She tightened her grip, splaying her hands across Hank’s chest, while at the same time pressing her thighs against the sides of the horse. It was amazing how one seemed to be an extension of the other.

They followed the trail for a few miles before veering off into a field of wildflowers. Yellow and purple blooms surrounded them, swaying in the soft summer breeze like water flowing downstream.

“This is beautiful,” she murmured as Hank slowed the horse to a gentle trot.

“Are you enjoying the ride?” he asked, turning to look at her over his shoulder.

“Very much,” she said, meeting his smile with one of her own.

Hank glanced up at the sky. “We should start heading back.” His gaze met hers once again and this time a glimmer lit his eyes. “My second surprise should be ready by now.”

“There’s more?”

“Oh yes.” The rough timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. But instead of elaborating, Hank simply turned and snapped the reigns. Cassie closed her eyes, titling her face toward the warm rays of the sun as they rode back to the barn. It didn’t matter what else Hank had planned, this day was already perfect. Despite her hesitation, she’d loved everything about their ride, from the fresh country air to the freedom of exploring off-road trails to the way Hank’s muscled flexed beneath her hands. But most of all she loved sharing something that obviously meant so much to him.

The late-morning sun was high in the sky by the time they made it back to the stable. Hank rode the mare into a shade-covered pen with a troth of water that looked to have been recently filled. “She can cool down here while we grab a bite to eat.” He held Cassie’s hand as she climbed down off the horse.

“Here?” she asked as he helped her down off the horse. While the facility appeared to be state of the art, there wasn’t a restaurant or snack bar anywhere in sight. Even if there had been, there certainly wasn’t anyone around to staff it. In fact, Cassie hadn’t seen a single soul the entire time they’d been there. Had Hank rented out the whole barn? Surely not.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed in agreement. “I asked the cook at the B&B to pack us some food. Nothing too heavy, I know how you women get when you have to wear a fancy dress.”

“Well I’d like to see how much you would eat if you knew you had to squeeze it all into a pair of Spanx.” She shook her head and laughed. “Men have it so easy. Hell, you don’t even have to shave if you don’t want to.”

Hank laughed. “I’ll have you know there’s a lot of effort that goes into looking so carefree.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Think they’d call it designer stubble if women stopped shaving their legs?”

“Well played.”

A smug grin spread across Cassie’s face as she started toward the car.

“Where are you headed, luv?”

“You said they packed a picnic.” She frowned. “Isn’t it in the car?”

That same glimmer was back in his eyes. “Come with me.” He took her by the hand and led her to a set of wooden stairs in the rear of the barn.

“What are you up to?” she asked as they began to climb. Realization hit her about halfway to the top. “Oh, is this about that hayloft fantasy you were telling me about last night?”

“It was inspired by that,” Hank said as they reached the landing at the top of the stairs. Cassie turned to face the hayloft and her breath caught in her throat. The entire place had been transformed into something straight out of a rustic fairy tale. Bales of hay had been stacked high along the edges of the loft, creating the feeling of a cozy private room. The windows had been draped with a gauzy white fabric that billowed in the warm breeze, and in the center of the makeshift bedroom lay an enormous featherbed covered in silky white linens and dotted with at least a half-dozen oversized pillows. A dark wicker tray rest at the foot and on it sat a platter of cheeses along with a loaf of French bread and a cluster of red and green grapes. There was even a small bale of hay set up as a side table next to the bed. A smaller tray sat on top, this one holding a vase with a single white rose.

“How in the world . . .”

“It was nothing really, just a few favors from the staff at the bed and breakfast.”

She looked at him. “Hank, setting up a bedroom in a barn is not a small favor.” She narrowed her eyes. “Is this where you tell me your family is some sort of European Rockefeller?”

He chuckled. “Not quite. I just thought perhaps we could go have sex in an actual bed.”

Cassie was at a loss for words. After several beats passed, Hank broke the silence with a quiet laugh.

“Terribly boring, I know.”

“Dreadful,” she agreed on a breathy voice. “Absolutely dreadful. Especially the silk sheets.”

“And here I promised to help you explore your more daring side. Failing you already it seems.”

“Miserably.” She met his amused grin with one of her own. “Although technically it’s not a bed, just the mattress.”

“So still somewhat adventurous then.”

“True. Although you do realize a roll in the hay isn’t meant to be quite so elegant?”

“Hmm, you might be right. But I imagine it’s rather like sex on the beach. It sounds good in the abstract but once you’re there with sand up in your bits, it’s not quite as romantic as first thought.”

Cassie had never had sex on a beach, unless you counted the drink Conor had ordered for her in Vegas, so she could only imagine how the real event would stack up to the fantasies conjured by movie clips. Burt Lancaster didn’t look too bothered, but for all she knew Deborah Kerr had a massive sand wedgie the entire time.

“Perhaps I could woo you with wine to make up for the lapse in creativity?”

Cassie’s eyes darted back to the romantic spread in front of her and for the first time she noticed a crystal ice bucket on the floor next to one side of the bed. Beside it stood two wine glasses.

“Yes, please.”

The game he was playing was beyond adorable. No telling how much effort he’d had to put into pulling all of this together. And when? She’d been with him the entire morning. Well, except for when she’d gone to her room to change. But could he have really put everything in motion that quickly? If so, he must have had a team of elves on a rather hefty retainer. That or he paid the bed and breakfast staff a small fortune.

She’d begun to suspect Hank came from a rather well-to-do family when he’d mentioned playing polo. That was hardly a sport for the weak of pocketbook. And a horse as a wedding gift was a far cry from a Tiffany bracelet. But even so, to spend so much money in an attempt to impress her? Was it because she’d told him about Cole and Olivia? Her best friend might have been married to a man who often seemed to have more money than sense, but it wasn’t why Olivia loved him. And it certainly wasn’t what attracted Cassie to Hank.

He poured two glasses of wine and handed her one.

“You know I don’t need all this,” she said. “I would have been fine with a ride in a pickup truck and a bag of McDonald’s to share on the flat bed.”

“Sounds like the makings of a fairly decent country music video. Or at the very least an advert. Although I’m afraid my hot-wiring skills aren’t quite on par with my horse grooming, so if we find a truck downstairs, we’ll just have to park.”

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t enjoy this.” She smiled over the rim of her wine glass then took a small sip. “I’m just saying I would have been all yours either way.”

Hank’s eyes flared as she licked the wine from her lips. “Ah yes, I do believe there is the matter of a rain check.”

Cassie took Hank’s wine from him and set both glasses on the small tray next to the makeshift bed. One by one she began to unfasten the buttons of his shirt until his chest was bared to her greedy hands. Her palms smoothed over the hard ridges of his stomach then over his pecs before finally pushing the fabric off his shoulders. He watched as she reached for the fly of his jeans, popping the buttons one by one then tugging the jeans down his legs along with his boxer briefs. Once she had him fully undressed, she took a moment to admire the Greek god standing before her, her gaze drifting over every inch of honed muscle before settling on the impressive erection jutting out from his hips.

She licked her lips as she dropped to her knees, keeping her eyes locked on his as her fingers curled around the thick shaft. His breath hitched when she leaned forward and took him between her lips, but instead of thrusting into her mouth, he held himself back, gently cradling her head and letting her set the pace.

He gazed down at her, his eyes dark and unfocused, as she dragged her tongue up the length of him before swirling it round and round the tip.

“So fucking good.”

A warm ache spread between her thighs. She had no idea giving pleasure could be such a turn on, but hearing his uneven breath and his harshly spoken words was almost as arousing as the feel of his fingers and tongue. She mouthed the plush head of his cock, so firm and yet so velvety soft, until his hips began to flex in a silent plea for more. Only then did she pull him deeper, taking him to the back of her throat then sucking hard as she drew him out again and again in a steady rhythm.

“God yes,” he groaned. “Just like that.” His grip on her hair tightened and his muscles tensed. She knew he was dangerously close to the edge, but she didn’t let up. Instead she moaned around the fullness in her mouth, letting the vibrations of her throat take him to the brink.

“Stop,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “I want to be inside you when I come.” With that he scooped her into his arms and lay her in the middle of the white featherbed. Hank never took his eyes off her as he peeled her out of her clothes, his hungry gaze igniting her overheated skin.

When she was finally naked, he settled between her thighs. Her body trembled with anticipation as he kissed his way down her neck, nipping and licking his way closer to the taut peaks of her breasts. He flicked his tongue across the tips, then tugged a straining nipple between his teeth. A soft gasp escaped her mouth and her hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer as he savored one nipple and then the other—sucking, lapping, and biting until she thought she might lose her mind.

“I want you,” she whispered. She breathed a sigh of relief when he finally sheathed himself with a condom, only to then tease her slick entrance until she whimpered from a pleasure that was nearly pain.

“Please,” she panted on a stuttering breath.

With a noise that was more growl than groan, he surged forward, entering her on a single stroke, then stilled. He stayed like that, buried inside her, until she couldn’t take it any longer. She rocked up, desperately seeking the friction she craved.

“Don’t,” he ground out. The strain in his voice betrayed his barely leashed control. “Let me feel you.”

Her body pulsed around him as her breathing became more and more shallow. This was torture of the most exquisite kind. Then, just when she thought she might combust from sheer need, Hank gripped the back of her thigh and with a flex of his hips, pushed deeper. The fullness was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Like every other moment they’d shared, she wanted to hold onto it, to prolong it while committing every detail to memory. But then his mouth covered hers and he began to move, thrusting into her in a deliberate, unhurried rhythm that perfectly matched the lush strokes of his tongue. The sensation overwhelmed and bombarded her senses and she knew it wouldn’t be long until she was coming apart beneath him.

Cassie’s back arched and her teeth sank into her lower lip. Feel it, remember it, make it last. Then he shifted, hitting a spot inside her she never even knew existed. She cried out, her nails sinking into his back as she rode a wave of pleasure so intense, she saw stars despite the midday sun. Hank didn’t let up. He stayed right with her, rolling into her with each stroke and prolonging the heightened sense until a second wave washed over, no less devastating than the first. Only then did he give himself over to his own release, letting out a low groan as an orgasm racked his large frame.

Aftershocks had her body shuddering against his for long moments. When she finally stilled, he lifted his head, bearing his weight on his elbows as he gazed down at her. “Not such a bad day after all?” he asked, brushing his lips softly across hers.

“I’ll give horseback riding a six.” She pushed his hair from his eyes and smiled. “But this picnic rates a definite ten.”

He laughed, a sound that was nearly as rough as his breathing. “Wait until you try the second course.”