Chapter Eleven
Urban was hard as a rock as he watched Presley’s tongue come out to lick the very spot he’d cleaned with his thumb. He felt like someone had hit him across the head with a club…and her name was Presley Dean. He followed the delicate, smooth line of her face, over the silken length of her neck to the hollow between her collarbones. He swore he could see the fast beating of her pulse in the dip. His blood pressure shot up and warmth spread through him.
Lord! She was amazing and soon she’d be his wife.
He forgot they were in the stables as he roved his gaze hungrily down her exquisite curves to her hips and inner thighs. There were so many places on her he wanted to latch his gaze onto, so many he wasn’t sure where he wanted to look first. Tight jeans did an amazing job in encasing her firm, heart shaped bottom that made him grit his teeth to keep his tongue from falling out. Her legs were long and shapely and he couldn’t quite toss away the image of those legs wrapped around his thrusting hips.
She leaned against the door to the stall and her breasts pushed forward in the fitted T-shirt. It wasn’t a surprise that it read, “Hard to handle. Easy to love.” The inference of those words made his balls ache. He’d fall at her feet if he thought she’d nuzzle him like she was lucky Daisy.
Urban could only imagine how she must taste—like fresh berries and sweet cream. Yeah, he’d like to taste her cream. A woman as beautiful and lush as Presley must taste like vanilla spiked honey. His fingers itched to touch her skin, wrap his arm around her tiny waist and find out if she could make him as wild in bed as she did out. He had no doubt.
Driving his gaze upward, his mouth salivated, watching her breasts bounce ever so slightly as she hooked one boot on the bottom rung of the door. Damn what he wouldn’t give to cup those amazing tits and suckle her nipples until she screamed his name. He wanted to make her cream like she did in the changing room. Remembering how hot and wet she’d gotten in seconds made his cock painfully hard.
Speaking of cock, he was so hard that he feared he’d lose a seam or two of the jeans.
He wanted to follow his craving and cross to her, drag her against him and kiss her, but he stayed frozen. His muscles were stiff and he could barely drag in a breath because he was so tight. She smiled at the cow and his heart kicked up in speed. This woman, soon to be his wife, was the prettiest woman he’d laid eyes on. How had he known her for so long and was just now realizing she was perfection? He focused on her pink kissable lips, mesmerizing the plump dip and curves, wanting to follow it with his tongue. His world tilted.
A moan escaped him which brought her chin up and her gaze on him, curious. Her eyes were huge and a deep hazel color, surrounded by thick, dark lashes.
He pulled off his hat and used it to cover his waist, hoping she didn’t see that he was busting out of his jeans. She went back to watching the cow and he went back to staring at her. From her flawless cheeks, upturned nose, and red hair that reflected the dim overhead light.
“I’ve wasted too much time.” He dropped his hat and found his feet moving. There was no holding back or putting off the feelings rushing through him. He needed to be close to her—needed to touch her. She took a short step away from the gate, awareness covering her expression. Her eyes turned a shade darker.
*****
Time slowed to a crawl.
Presley could only watch as Urban moved toward her, slowly and stealth-like. His pensive gaze burrowing into her, filling her with a warmth she’d never known. How many years had she waited for him to stop beating around the bush and make a move? Years she’d dreamed of him—wanted him—wanted to make the move herself.
He looked like a fierce knight as he drew closer. Large, wide shoulders. Huge chest. Slender hips. The shirt stretched across him. She wanted to rid his torso of the barrier and lick every masculine dip of him. As she watched, she anticipated feeling his arms wrapped around her, his body pressed against hers. An image developed in her mind of ripping the shirt off his torso. Gravity held her gaze south of his shiny belt buckle, like the beam of a lighthouse. Dragging her chin up, their gazes snapped together and she felt the zing all the way into her sensitive parts. He was as lethal as a gun.
If they didn’t touch soon she was going to burst at the seams.
Urban reached out and glided his thumb along her bottom lip, sending a ripple of eagerness through her. How could a rough and brawny man be so gentle?
“I think I’ll waste away if I don’t have a taste of you. Please tell me this is okay.”
Goosebumps scattered her skin and the fine hairs on her nape stood up. “If you don’t, I’ll never forgive you.”
He lowered his head, capturing her mouth in a slow, hypnotic kiss. He moved his lips in a soft, gentle exploration, relishing her. The kiss was a meeting of lips that started with a light caress, dipping his tongue in and sampling. Presley glided her hands up his chest to his shoulders and grasped the steel wall, more to resist the urge of ripping his shirt off his body. A moan escaped her lips and he swallowed the sound, followed with a grunt of desire of his own. Slipping her fingers lower. She squeezed his biceps, loving how they flexed as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Urban still moved with caution as if at any moment she would push him away, but that wouldn’t happen. She’d never known such desire, such want before in her life. He nibbled her top lip, then her bottom, suckling her tongue with gentle pressure. If ever there was a bittersweet torture, this was the definition. His torturous touches and licks were boiling her blood, bringing her to a heightened sense of erotica. Needing to be closer, she stood on tiptoes, taking more of his kiss, pressuring him with her impatience.
Quickly, he pulled back and picked her up and she squealed, then giggled nervously. With three easy strides, he dropped down on a bale of hay and placed her on his lap, their faces at eye level. With one hand, he pushed her knees apart and slowly walked his fingers up her inner thighs. Her core swelled and the seam of her jeans became a teaser to her throbbing clit.
“So warm,” he whispered, sliding one finger along the denim covered slit.
Now she was trembling, loving how he tasted and felt, but she needed to push things along before she burnt alive in need. She climbed over his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, soaking in the warmth between their bodies. Threading her fingers in his hair, she savored in the satin heaviness. “I’m hungry for you, Urban. I know once I get a taste, nothing will ever compare.”
“Good to know we’re on the same page.” He bent his head and nibbled the sensitive flesh where her neck met the dip of her collarbone. “I’m at a cross between wanting to take things slow and needing to rip through this like a ravenous man.” He cupped her neck with his palm and she could feel the shake in his fingers.
“So, we only have once?” she teased.
He growled. “Do you realize how perfect you are?”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer, rolling her tongue around the plump curve of his swollen lips. One corner of his mouth lifted in approval. His hands glided up her back and tangled in her hair, dragging it free of the messy bun. Lush red waves tumbled down her shoulders and his eyes sparkled. His grunt was a sign of his internal war. He fitted his mouth over hers, suckling and nipping, spurts of fast with slower intervals. She darted her tongue inside his mouth, meeting him nip-for-nip, suckle-for-suckle. They swirled and sampled, devouring each other with a mere kiss. What would happen when they were naked? She trembled at the thought of what would come. Pressing her knees deeper into the hay bale, she pressed her core against him, gave her hips a slight circle and pushed him back against the wall.
“You’re like a volcano ready to erupt, baby. I couldn’t run if my life depended upon it, and yet I know I’m going to be scorched.” His harsh, raspy breathing sent tingles straight into her nipples.
Holding him pressed against the wall, she kissed his neck, sipped at the flesh, taking in the salty sweet goodness before lowering to lick the spot where neck met chest. Her heart was pounding and his pulse matched the beats. “Just to think I’ve imagined this…fantasized about this,” she muttered.
It took him a moment, but he lifted his chin, the area between his brows scrunched. “You’ve wanted this with me before?” He seemed totally taken back.
“Are you that surprised? I mean, you have a lot of women who want you.” She kissed his cheek, then his jaw.
“But we’re talking about you, sweetheart, not just anyone. I thought you were fantasizing how to murder me and get away with it, but never in a million years would I think you were having sexual dreams of us. That’s freaking hot.”
Without stopping her affectionate assault, she mumbled, “It’s true, Urban. In my dreams, we’ve kissed a thousand times and made love in so many different positions that I’ve lost count.” She suckled the hard cord along his neck, following it with her tongue.
“And you decided to keep this a secret? That’s a tragedy.”
“Oh? So, if I approached you and told you I was having sexual fantasies about us, you would have jumped my bones?” She laughed.
“Damn. Yeah.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time…” She reached between their bodies and grabbed his bulging crotch, her mouthwatering with the thought of what she wanted to do with that very solid part of him.
“Hello? Urban?” The female voice echoed through the stables.
“Who is that?” Presley darted off his lap, her gaze narrowed, her chest tight. “Did you invite someone here?”
“Hell no!” He stood.
A pretty brunette stepped into the center of the space followed by a cameraman and it became very obvious who this was, and the idea washed over Presley like a cold shower. She gave Urban a death look. His jaw was so tight he could probably snap a crowbar in two.
“There you are. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the woman said, flashing a bright white smile. “When you didn’t show up for filming, I asked Hugh where you might be and he told me I could find you here.”
“I’m going to shoot Hugh,” Urban said low enough that the woman couldn’t hear.
“This must be Presley. I’m Adira, the lucky one who gets to film your cowboy.”
Still reeling from what happened between she and Urban, Presley finally came to her fuzzy senses and stepped forward, shaking hands with the woman. “I’m a little shocked to see you. My fiancé here forgot to tell me he had plans.”
“Isn’t that just like a man.” Adira giggled. “Meet my camera whiz, Randy.” The tall man gave Presley a bashful smile and dipped his red cap. He seemed the type who felt more confident behind the camera than in front of it.
Daisy let out a low cry, a warning that things were moving fast. Presley darted to the stall and opened the gate. “If it’s good TV you want, Adira, then I suggest you get that camera rolling. Have you ever witnessed the birth of a calf?”
Her face paled. “No.”
“You’re not a lightweight, are you? Blood make you sick?” Presley smiled. If she had to admit the truth, she felt a bit vindicated to see the weakness in the other woman After all, she’d interrupted the best damn kiss ever.
“I’ll manage. Randy, get the camera ready.” They both moved forward.
All the while, Urban had his hands stuffed in his front pockets, scowling. He’d get over it.