female had no idea how to deal with such an aggressive, bluntly sexual male. Men had always catered to her icy decorum and been careful not to ruffle her reserve. Not Rucker. He ruffled her reserve and everything else.
His tone was tender and amused. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you, ma’am.”
“It is, macho man, it is.”
“You Jane, me Tarzan.”
“You Rambo, me—I don’t know what I am.” She sounded resigned.
He spoke against her ear, his voice provocative and serious. “You’re a prim little ol’ beauty queen who’s come to her senses.”
Dinah slowly turned her face upwards and kissed his cheek. “I’ve lost my senses,” she corrected.
“Same difference. You need to run wild a little.” She moaned a soft, encouraging sound as he pushed hislower body further into the harbor of her thighs. “Come on, Dee,” he murmured. “Run wild with me.”
His very hard arousal was evident under the denim of his jeans, and when it found a home in the indentation of her body she welcomed it with a compliant movement of her hips. The wall was hard against her back; Rucker’s body was almost as hard against her breasts and stomach. Suddenly she kissed him, grinding her mouth onto his with rough need.
He groaned in the back of his throat and rolled her gently from side to side, working his hips even tighter against her, pressing and releasing, showing her how good it would be if there were no clothes between them. Dinah gasped for air and retreated, smacking funny little kisses over his face in an attempt to playfully lighten the intense mood. Smiling weakly, he turned his face at various angles to catch every one.
“Hot damn,” he said in a strangled voice. “This oughta be the national sport. Free-form smoochin’.”
Dinah considered herself an efficient, responsible decision maker, and always had. Once a conclusion was reached, she didn’t brood about the consequences, and tonight was no different. Dinah made her choice, and that choice was to take Rucker McClure into her life, her soul, and her bed.
“Carry me to my briefcase,” she whispered, her mouth grazing his right ear. He pulled back, bewildered, and looked at her askance. “Over there on the couch,” she added. “You’ll see.”
Still puzzled, he carried her to the plush white couch in front of the fireplace and sat down with her on his lap. She curled her legs on either side of him in a kneeling position, then reached for the sleek leather briefcase propped against one of the couch’s arms.
“If you start gradin’ history papers, I’m gonna dump you on the floor,” Rucker threatened mildly.
Dinah could feel the color rising in her face as she flipped the latch. “No,” she said softly, “it’s not that.” She reached inside the briefcase and felt around hurriedly, her pulse pounding harder with every second. When she withdrew her hand, she watched him lookdown at it curiously. His eyes widened and he exhaled with a rough sound. He put his hand out, palm up, and she deposited her gift with great care. Their gazes met.
“Are you sure, Dee?” he asked in a gruff tone.
Dinah cleared her throat delicately. “We had a sex education seminar for the seniors last week. These were leftovers.” She paused, sounding almost defensive. “Someone had to take them home. The biology teacher didn’t want them.”
Sensual tension was a magnet that kept their eyes locked. “Are you sure, Dee?” he repeated.
Her chin came up proudly. “Yes.”
He kissed her thoroughly and slowly, twisting his mouth against hers in a way that was both rough and tender. “I’ll take the plain ones,” he whispered, nodding toward the items he clenched in his fist. “The pink ones look sissy and the purple ones would make me feel like a carnival ride.”
Dinah looked at him plaintively. “This is very difficult for me, admitting that I want you … want you to stay.” She paused, her heart pounding. “That I want you.”
His
His tone was tender and amused. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you, ma’am.”
“It is, macho man, it is.”
“You Jane, me Tarzan.”
“You Rambo, me—I don’t know what I am.” She sounded resigned.
He spoke against her ear, his voice provocative and serious. “You’re a prim little ol’ beauty queen who’s come to her senses.”
Dinah slowly turned her face upwards and kissed his cheek. “I’ve lost my senses,” she corrected.
“Same difference. You need to run wild a little.” She moaned a soft, encouraging sound as he pushed hislower body further into the harbor of her thighs. “Come on, Dee,” he murmured. “Run wild with me.”
His very hard arousal was evident under the denim of his jeans, and when it found a home in the indentation of her body she welcomed it with a compliant movement of her hips. The wall was hard against her back; Rucker’s body was almost as hard against her breasts and stomach. Suddenly she kissed him, grinding her mouth onto his with rough need.
He groaned in the back of his throat and rolled her gently from side to side, working his hips even tighter against her, pressing and releasing, showing her how good it would be if there were no clothes between them. Dinah gasped for air and retreated, smacking funny little kisses over his face in an attempt to playfully lighten the intense mood. Smiling weakly, he turned his face at various angles to catch every one.
“Hot damn,” he said in a strangled voice. “This oughta be the national sport. Free-form smoochin’.”
Dinah considered herself an efficient, responsible decision maker, and always had. Once a conclusion was reached, she didn’t brood about the consequences, and tonight was no different. Dinah made her choice, and that choice was to take Rucker McClure into her life, her soul, and her bed.
“Carry me to my briefcase,” she whispered, her mouth grazing his right ear. He pulled back, bewildered, and looked at her askance. “Over there on the couch,” she added. “You’ll see.”
Still puzzled, he carried her to the plush white couch in front of the fireplace and sat down with her on his lap. She curled her legs on either side of him in a kneeling position, then reached for the sleek leather briefcase propped against one of the couch’s arms.
“If you start gradin’ history papers, I’m gonna dump you on the floor,” Rucker threatened mildly.
Dinah could feel the color rising in her face as she flipped the latch. “No,” she said softly, “it’s not that.” She reached inside the briefcase and felt around hurriedly, her pulse pounding harder with every second. When she withdrew her hand, she watched him lookdown at it curiously. His eyes widened and he exhaled with a rough sound. He put his hand out, palm up, and she deposited her gift with great care. Their gazes met.
“Are you sure, Dee?” he asked in a gruff tone.
Dinah cleared her throat delicately. “We had a sex education seminar for the seniors last week. These were leftovers.” She paused, sounding almost defensive. “Someone had to take them home. The biology teacher didn’t want them.”
Sensual tension was a magnet that kept their eyes locked. “Are you sure, Dee?” he repeated.
Her chin came up proudly. “Yes.”
He kissed her thoroughly and slowly, twisting his mouth against hers in a way that was both rough and tender. “I’ll take the plain ones,” he whispered, nodding toward the items he clenched in his fist. “The pink ones look sissy and the purple ones would make me feel like a carnival ride.”
Dinah looked at him plaintively. “This is very difficult for me, admitting that I want you … want you to stay.” She paused, her heart pounding. “That I want you.”
His
Similar Books
