wait.
“Do you want this as much as I do, Cait?” His hand brushed her cheek as he waited for her answer. Always the gentleman.
“Yes. I want you, Ryan.” Her hands reached up and wove into his hair just before he dipped his head back down to lave her sensitive tips. Every caress and lick was enough to make her moan.
“Good—” he brought his gaze up to hers, “—because I want you really bad right now.” He kissed her neck and made a trail of caresses down her shoulder. “You are so beautiful.”
Caitlyn tugged on his shirt and between the two of them, they removed it along with her pants. The sight of his muscular chest, dusted with the perfect amount of dark hair, made her lick her lips. “Ryan, a condom. Do you have one?”
“Yeah.” His voice, deep and husky, shot straight to her core. He pulled one from his pocket, and she took a moment to appreciate the sight of him. She’d never been with a man like him before…all brawn and muscle and physicality. She reached his hands where he held the condom and she said, “Let me.”
“No, I’ve got it.”
“The couch, Ryan, the couch.”
While his hands reached down to drop his jeans and put on the condom, he stared at her, want and desire painted all over his face. “No, Cait, right here. Right now.”
He put his shirt underneath her and laid her carefully back on the lower part of the counter, moving her to the edge. And then he grasped her hips and slid into her, right there, on the kitchen counter in her brand new house. Ryan Ramsay made her scream and beg for more, something she had never done before.
Chapter Eleven
“Oh my God, Ryan,” Caitlyn whispered.
“Was it good for you?”
“Huh?” She stared at him, dazed.
“You came, didn’t you?” He stared at her as he fumbled with his pants, then reached down to help her sit up.
“Yes. Do you really need to ask?”
He laughed. “No. I could feel you. That was amazing, Cait.” He kissed her and then found her sweatshirt and pants on the floor. “Here, it’s getting a little cold in here.” He helped her slide it over her head. “C’mon, I’ll warm you up on the couch.” She walked over to the couch slowly, as if she was still dazed, and Ryan grinned. He was satisfied, very satisfied. It was the best sex he’d had in a long time, and in the dark and in that position, he was sure she had no idea. There would be no reason for her to suspect anything.
“Does the fireplace work?” He walked over and moved the grates, locating the poker at the side.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. It does, the inspector said it was in great shape, but I haven’t bought any wood or anything.”
“Didn’t I see a cord of wood in the garage?”
“I have no idea.” Her voice was dusky, and he grinned again. She’d clearly enjoyed herself as much as he had. He covered her with the throw on the back of the couch and said, “I’ll go check. I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, he returned with his arms full of wood. He set some in the basket next to the fireplace and arranged the rest inside it.
“Oh, is that what that’s for?” She huddled on the couch, the blanket tucked around her.
“How much more wood is out there?”
“Enough for a couple of days. We won’t keep it raging, just big enough to keep the chill away at night. You should probably close the door to the laundry room and the bathroom so we can keep this room warm.”
“How long is the storm supposed to last?”
“I don’t know. The warning was until ten tonight, but who knows how long we might be without power.” Ryan got the fire going, then got on the couch and wrapped his arms around Cait. “You okay?”
“Absolutely. I’m so glad you stopped over.”
“Me, too.”
“Ryan, I’m really sorry about today.” Cait rested her head on his shoulder.
“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.” Damn, but he wish he could just get rid of the PTSD. Why did it have to continue messing with him? No, Cait
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