herself at another man’s mercy was truly frightening.
Chad’s roughness crowded her mind and permeated her soul, and it was as if Cruz ceased to exist in that moment.
‘Dammit, Aspen. What is wrong with you?’
Cruz’s dark, annoyed voice only added fuel to the raging fire of Aspen’s insecurities. Panic enveloped her and galvanised her into action.
Gouging the floor tiles with her chair, she forced it back and moved in the opposite direction from the one Cruz was in. Unfortunately that only brought her to the balustrade. She gripped the iron railing, enjoying the coolness of the metal against her overheated palms, and pretended rapt attention in the glowing lights that outlined the low boards around the darkened polo field.
‘What bothers you the most about this?’ he grated. ‘The money aspect or the fact that it’s me you’ll be sleeping with?’
Aspen knew he stood close behind her—every fibre of her being felt as if it was attuned to every fibre of his—but she didn’t turn around. Honestly, she should have known that when it came to the crunch she would fall at the first hurdle. But of course she needed to do this—her mind was so fogged that she couldn’t comprehend any other way to save her farm.
‘It’s not the money.’ She tilted her gaze to take in the starry sky. She was planning to pay him back every cent he loaned her, plus interest, so she’d reconciled that in her mind before he’d even picked her up. No, it was... ‘It’s—’
‘Me?’ The single word sounded like a pistol-shot.
Interesting, she thought, holding a conversation with someone you couldn’t see. It made her other senses come alive. Her sense of hearing that was so in love with the deep timbre of his voice, the feel of the heat of his body that seemed to reach out like a beckoning light, his smell... Unconsciously she rubbed at the railing and felt the smooth texture of the iron beneath her sensitive fingertips.
‘It’s more the fact that you don’t like me,’ she said on a rush.
She hadn’t realised how true that was until the words left her mouth. A beat passed and then she felt his hands on her shoulders, gently turning her. Embarrassed by the admission, she forced herself to meet his gaze. Because she knew she was right.
He stared at her, not saying anything, his large hands burning into the tops of her shoulders, his thumbs almost absently caressing her collarbones. It was hard to read his expression with only a candle flickering on the table and a crescent moon ducking behind darkened clouds. It was even harder when he lowered his gaze to his hands, his inky lashes shielding them.
He gently slid those large hands up her neck to the line of her jaw, setting off a whole host of sensations in their wake. Aspen stiffened as she felt the pad of one of his thumbs slowly graze her closed mouth. His eyes locked on her lips as he pressed into the soft flesh, making them feel gloriously sensitised.
They were both utterly still. The only movement came from his thumb as it swept back and forth, back and forth, across her hyper-sensitive flesh. Back and forth until her lips started to buzz and gave beneath the persuasive pressure, allowing him to reach the moisture within. Aspen trembled as he spread her own wetness along her bottom lip and then opened her lips wider, until he was touching her teeth. He traced their shape just as thoroughly, only they weren’t as malleable as her lips and stayed firmly closed.
She should have known that he wouldn’t stop there. Unfairly he was bringing his fingers into play, to knead the side of her neck, pressing firmly into her nape. On a rush of heat her senses were overloaded and her teeth parted, giving him greater liberties.
Only he didn’t immediately take them, and without even realising it Aspen tilted her head, seeking to capture his thumb between her teeth, silently inviting him inside. Still he hung back, and with a small sound in the back of her throat she
Chad’s roughness crowded her mind and permeated her soul, and it was as if Cruz ceased to exist in that moment.
‘Dammit, Aspen. What is wrong with you?’
Cruz’s dark, annoyed voice only added fuel to the raging fire of Aspen’s insecurities. Panic enveloped her and galvanised her into action.
Gouging the floor tiles with her chair, she forced it back and moved in the opposite direction from the one Cruz was in. Unfortunately that only brought her to the balustrade. She gripped the iron railing, enjoying the coolness of the metal against her overheated palms, and pretended rapt attention in the glowing lights that outlined the low boards around the darkened polo field.
‘What bothers you the most about this?’ he grated. ‘The money aspect or the fact that it’s me you’ll be sleeping with?’
Aspen knew he stood close behind her—every fibre of her being felt as if it was attuned to every fibre of his—but she didn’t turn around. Honestly, she should have known that when it came to the crunch she would fall at the first hurdle. But of course she needed to do this—her mind was so fogged that she couldn’t comprehend any other way to save her farm.
‘It’s not the money.’ She tilted her gaze to take in the starry sky. She was planning to pay him back every cent he loaned her, plus interest, so she’d reconciled that in her mind before he’d even picked her up. No, it was... ‘It’s—’
‘Me?’ The single word sounded like a pistol-shot.
Interesting, she thought, holding a conversation with someone you couldn’t see. It made her other senses come alive. Her sense of hearing that was so in love with the deep timbre of his voice, the feel of the heat of his body that seemed to reach out like a beckoning light, his smell... Unconsciously she rubbed at the railing and felt the smooth texture of the iron beneath her sensitive fingertips.
‘It’s more the fact that you don’t like me,’ she said on a rush.
She hadn’t realised how true that was until the words left her mouth. A beat passed and then she felt his hands on her shoulders, gently turning her. Embarrassed by the admission, she forced herself to meet his gaze. Because she knew she was right.
He stared at her, not saying anything, his large hands burning into the tops of her shoulders, his thumbs almost absently caressing her collarbones. It was hard to read his expression with only a candle flickering on the table and a crescent moon ducking behind darkened clouds. It was even harder when he lowered his gaze to his hands, his inky lashes shielding them.
He gently slid those large hands up her neck to the line of her jaw, setting off a whole host of sensations in their wake. Aspen stiffened as she felt the pad of one of his thumbs slowly graze her closed mouth. His eyes locked on her lips as he pressed into the soft flesh, making them feel gloriously sensitised.
They were both utterly still. The only movement came from his thumb as it swept back and forth, back and forth, across her hyper-sensitive flesh. Back and forth until her lips started to buzz and gave beneath the persuasive pressure, allowing him to reach the moisture within. Aspen trembled as he spread her own wetness along her bottom lip and then opened her lips wider, until he was touching her teeth. He traced their shape just as thoroughly, only they weren’t as malleable as her lips and stayed firmly closed.
She should have known that he wouldn’t stop there. Unfairly he was bringing his fingers into play, to knead the side of her neck, pressing firmly into her nape. On a rush of heat her senses were overloaded and her teeth parted, giving him greater liberties.
Only he didn’t immediately take them, and without even realising it Aspen tilted her head, seeking to capture his thumb between her teeth, silently inviting him inside. Still he hung back, and with a small sound in the back of her throat she
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