WANTED (A Transported Through Time book) by Amber Scott Page A

honestly, so openly. He’d never known a woman like her, never experienced such magnificence. It should intimidate him.
    It didn’t.
    She didn’t.
    He could see the wild mustang in her soul, the untrusting, untamed part of her. He wanted to conquer it, to win it. He also needed to taste it.
    The first stroke might as well have been their first touch. Each time their bodies came together, called together by this unseen, feral force, it got better.
    Every time he thought to tame his passion, to rein it in and show her a new world of pleasure. He saw one, instead, and chased after it like a fool in the rain. It blinded his reason and clouded his logic, and soon all he could do was feel. Feel her as he pulled out and thrust back in. Wet. Hot. Exquisite.
    Each plunge took on a new level of pleasure, so sweet it was almost painful. Each wave of pleasure showed on her parted lips, her flushed cheeks, her widening eyes.
    He felt like master and slave all in one. He thrilled in what he gave, equally desperate to take the same.
    Her hands roved and gripped his shoulders. He rolled her on top, gripped her perfectly shaped ass with both hands. His mouth watered; his pulse kicked.
    She whispered his name. “Jesse. … Jesse.”
    Her eyes begged him, thanked him.
    She cried out, and his body poured into her. He fell into the oblivion of climax, hoping he’d not left her behind, then feeling he hadn’t. Samantha’s body clutched his, cinching up and releasing, and she cried his name, again and again, rocking up and down. Up and down. Up. Down.
    She fell against his shoulder.
    He wrapped his heavy arms around her, his heart slamming down. Reality stayed away, not ready to rudely intrude on them. He was grateful for the polite delay, because he knew when it did, things would change.
    Once he knew she hadn’t gone back to sleep, Jesse spoke.
    “Samantha.” His voice sounded strange in the silence of his home. “I don’t know who you are or where you’ve come from, but we can’t keep going on like this.”
    She sat up. When he looked up at her, he prepared himself for a full offense. She wasn’t insulted. She was smiling.
    “Why not?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and tucked her chin.
    His eyes narrowed. Unusual. Different, to be sure, from any other woman. Why? Why was she not offended by being naked in his bed, in the full light of day, when anyone could come upon them, though it was unlikely any would since he tended to have few visitors. Still, even a widow, free to live as she pleased, had standards and expectations within society to conform to.
    Why did she trust him so implicitly?
    “People will talk. I don’t want you ruined. And,” He glanced at the window and back, “I can’t offer you a proper proposal, should anyone find us in our compromising state.”
    Samantha shrugged. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. There’s really no reason to. I don’t regret what we’ve shared.” Her eyebrows drew together. “Do you?”
    “Christ, no.” Jesse sat up. “But we can’t just hole up in here and act like rabbits for the rest of our days. Nice as the thought may be.”
    She pushed out her lips, wriggling the lower one like she was chewing on his words. “No, I suppose there have to be other things to do in this state.”
    Jesse chuckled. “Not many more. But my stomach can think of at least one other thing.”
    “Mmmm. Food. Yes.” She licked her lips.
    Jesse rose, tossed her the long shirt he’d given her before, realizing she’d want proper clothes. Hers needed a washing, still covered in mud from when Tommy had found her lying on the ground.
    Ginny would have something that would fit her. He could send her to town to get more. Christ knew he had enough money. They might as well eat with Tommy and Ginny, as well. He bec ame so caught up in his musing he didn’t see her up and leave.
     

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    Chapter Eleven
     
    Samantha focused her eyes and shrieked when Carla’s face came into view.