going like they should, he told himself. He wasn't supposed to drown into this woman ever y time he kissed her. He wasn't supposed to ache with the need of her. But he did, and somehow he had to put a stop to the needs she produced in him.
She was a McKay and nothing could come of loving her. He told himself that every day, and every day he ached a little more to be with her. Just seeing her every day made him want to make love with her. But seeing those crocodile tears in her eyes, and her own prideful stubbornness, he ached to comfort her. He needed to protect her from all harm, even tears.
Why this woman? He asked himself that every day too. He'd disciplined himself against falling for a woman that was above his own means. Letty McKay would be a rich woman, a very rich woman, but that wasn't what he wanted. He didn't care about her money, he wanted her, and yet it wasn't possible. She led one life, he led another. What could he offer her? But all these arguments were lost the minute he touched her.
He didn't want to think about that though while he held her in his arms. He wanted to enjoy loving her even if it was just for a while. Letty McKay was like Thunder itself, wild, free, and so adorably attractive he couldn't keep his mind or heart away from her. She stole his thinking. Stole his heart.
But right now, here in the barn, away from the rest of the world, he wanted to make her his. He felt the heat from their bodies, felt the pounding of her heart. He smelled the sweetness of her, like jasmines and he heard her little throaty moans as he kissed her into submission. His tongue darted deep inside her mouth, supping her sweetness, a taste he would remember forever. And she swooned at his needs of her. He felt her hold him tighter. He felt her breast come alive against his chest, and his hands itched to hold them, caress them and kiss them. And then he felt himself come alive. She moaned raggedly as his lips moved against her neck and down to the valley of her shirt. His breathing was harsh like a man barely in control. He kissed the edge of her breast, his nose nudging her shirt away. He was moments of taking what she offered so willingly.
With just a flicker of his thumb, he could delve into her pert little aggravating breast that rubbed sinuously against his chest. His lips needed to touch her there. He wanted to look at her. He wanted to pull the clothes from her body and look at all of her. Just look. But no, he knew better. He could never look at her and not take. His thumb slid slowly against one pert nipple and she moaned aloud. Her body seemed to bend toward him as his head dipped to take the sweetness of her into his mouth. Just once he wanted to touch her there, kiss her, and love her. His wants and needs were outweighing every argument that he shouldn't be doing this.
He came back up and looked into her love drugged eyes. Something niggled, something nagged. He couldn't do this. Not like this…
"God woman, I want you…get in the house," he pulled away and shouted at her.
He hadn't meant to shout and push her away. Had meant to release her at all. And then his eyes did feast on the one pert nipple that peeked from her shirt as her chest heaved a heavy breath. He hadn't meant to be such a brute, but if she didn't leave now, it would be too late.
His breathing was so labored he stood there shaking, trying to regain control.
Losing control over a woman was not part of his life. He'd always managed to be a gentleman. He'd never been this ready for a woman in his life. He stared at her and how vulnerable she looked and his own arousal announced itself against his jeans. He was hungry for her.
The barn was silent, still, as they devoured each other from a distance. But the fact that he wanted her in the most basic of ways shocked him. He wasn't sure he could walk away at the moment, for his readiness warned him he might be past that point. Even she could see what she was doing to him. There was no way to
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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