I'll have dinner with you," she breathed against his cheek.
He grinned and moved his mouth back to hers to continue her lesson.
Chapter 22: Burn
Once again, Sally found herself watching Flatfoot from her kitchen window. He was throwing a stick for Rambler, her old cocker spaniel to fetch. The dog was having a blast and it made Sally determined to play with him more.
One thing she had come to realize was that Flatfoot had a way with animals. She wondered if he came by it naturally or had been taught by his employer Dirk Branigan, a well known and respected horse whisperer. She suspected he came by it naturally.
The timer dinged on her oven and she grabbed her pot holders to remove the roast and potatoes that were now baked to perfection. She lifted the roasting pan from the oven and placed in on top of the stove. Tossing the pot holders on the counter, she then reached to turn off the oven. As she brought her hand back, she accidently bumped her thumb against the hot pan and it hurt like hell. "Damn," she shouted, and rushed to the sink to run cold water over the burn.
From the doorway she heard Flatfoot say, "What's wrong?"
Feeling foolish for doing something so dumb, she replied, "I burned myself on the pan. It's nothing serious."
Immediately, he was beside her and lifting her hand out of the water so he could inspect it before placing it back under the faucet. "I'll make a cold compress for it."
Before Sally could protest, he was gone. A few minutes later he returned with an ice pack and began loading ice into it. Gently removing her hand from the stream of water, he said, "Hold this against it and see if it helps."
Sally followed his instructions and then watched him remove a jar of honey from her cupboard. Unscrewing the lid, he reached in and scooped a little on his index finger and then began rubbing the honey on her burn. "It's a remedy I learned from my granny."
"Really? Have you ever used it on yourself?"
"Yep. And it works. The burn heals faster and has less chance of infection." Flatfoot lifted his finger to his mouth to suck off the remaining honey.
Sally watched the movement of his mouth and couldn't make herself look away. She lifted her gaze to his and held her breath. He was searching her face with such intensity she felt paralyzed. With a slight quirk of his mouth, he dipped his finger back into the honey jar and lifted it to her lips. All the fire in her finger was forgotten as she slowly opened her mouth. Now there was a total body fire that only he could quench. She sucked the honey off his finger. Their eyes never strayed from each other. He repeated the action and Sally felt like she was standing at the edge of a precipice. He removed his finger from her mouth and just watched her. Instinctively, she knew he was waiting for her to jump off the cliff.
And she did.
With lightning speed, she had her mouth on his and her arms around his neck. The cold compress fell to the ground. She had been watching this man for days and dreaming about him every night, and now that she had him in her arms, she wasn't about to let go.
And apparently he felt the same way.
His arms snaked around her waist, his mouth molded itself to hers, and his tongue did things that made her toes curl. Slowly, he began walking her backward toward the door. Once they were in the dining room, he must have decided their progress was too slow, because he reached under her legs and lifted her into his arms.
Still, their mouths never broke contact.
Sally felt the softness of a bed beneath her as flashes of their wedding night ignited the smoldering fire that had consumed her since her marriage. She just had to get her hands on Flatfoot's body and frantically began pulling his shirt out of his jeans. He speeded things up by ripping the shirt off. Finally, she had access to all those corded muscles. He was ripped, no doubt about it.
Flatfoot covered Sally's breasts with his palms and knew he'd just entered heaven. The
He grinned and moved his mouth back to hers to continue her lesson.
Chapter 22: Burn
Once again, Sally found herself watching Flatfoot from her kitchen window. He was throwing a stick for Rambler, her old cocker spaniel to fetch. The dog was having a blast and it made Sally determined to play with him more.
One thing she had come to realize was that Flatfoot had a way with animals. She wondered if he came by it naturally or had been taught by his employer Dirk Branigan, a well known and respected horse whisperer. She suspected he came by it naturally.
The timer dinged on her oven and she grabbed her pot holders to remove the roast and potatoes that were now baked to perfection. She lifted the roasting pan from the oven and placed in on top of the stove. Tossing the pot holders on the counter, she then reached to turn off the oven. As she brought her hand back, she accidently bumped her thumb against the hot pan and it hurt like hell. "Damn," she shouted, and rushed to the sink to run cold water over the burn.
From the doorway she heard Flatfoot say, "What's wrong?"
Feeling foolish for doing something so dumb, she replied, "I burned myself on the pan. It's nothing serious."
Immediately, he was beside her and lifting her hand out of the water so he could inspect it before placing it back under the faucet. "I'll make a cold compress for it."
Before Sally could protest, he was gone. A few minutes later he returned with an ice pack and began loading ice into it. Gently removing her hand from the stream of water, he said, "Hold this against it and see if it helps."
Sally followed his instructions and then watched him remove a jar of honey from her cupboard. Unscrewing the lid, he reached in and scooped a little on his index finger and then began rubbing the honey on her burn. "It's a remedy I learned from my granny."
"Really? Have you ever used it on yourself?"
"Yep. And it works. The burn heals faster and has less chance of infection." Flatfoot lifted his finger to his mouth to suck off the remaining honey.
Sally watched the movement of his mouth and couldn't make herself look away. She lifted her gaze to his and held her breath. He was searching her face with such intensity she felt paralyzed. With a slight quirk of his mouth, he dipped his finger back into the honey jar and lifted it to her lips. All the fire in her finger was forgotten as she slowly opened her mouth. Now there was a total body fire that only he could quench. She sucked the honey off his finger. Their eyes never strayed from each other. He repeated the action and Sally felt like she was standing at the edge of a precipice. He removed his finger from her mouth and just watched her. Instinctively, she knew he was waiting for her to jump off the cliff.
And she did.
With lightning speed, she had her mouth on his and her arms around his neck. The cold compress fell to the ground. She had been watching this man for days and dreaming about him every night, and now that she had him in her arms, she wasn't about to let go.
And apparently he felt the same way.
His arms snaked around her waist, his mouth molded itself to hers, and his tongue did things that made her toes curl. Slowly, he began walking her backward toward the door. Once they were in the dining room, he must have decided their progress was too slow, because he reached under her legs and lifted her into his arms.
Still, their mouths never broke contact.
Sally felt the softness of a bed beneath her as flashes of their wedding night ignited the smoldering fire that had consumed her since her marriage. She just had to get her hands on Flatfoot's body and frantically began pulling his shirt out of his jeans. He speeded things up by ripping the shirt off. Finally, she had access to all those corded muscles. He was ripped, no doubt about it.
Flatfoot covered Sally's breasts with his palms and knew he'd just entered heaven. The
Similar Books
