“And that way we don’t advertise that I rode back here with you. I appreciate that.”
He gazed at her. “I’m not too worried about the folks who work on my ranch gossiping. If I ask them to keep their mouths shut, they will.”
“I’d rather not have to ask them.”
That made life a little more complicated, but he could deal. “Okay, then, here’s the plan. We go into the laundry room, shuck our clothes, throw them in the washer, and turn it on. Then—”
“What if we get turned on before the washer does?” Laughter danced in her blue eyes.
“I suppose we will, smart aleck.” He was glad she’d recovered enough from her harrowing experience to tease him. “But if we don’t start the washer first, I guarantee we’ll forget all about the damned thing and you won’t have any clothes to wear home.”
“Good point.”
“Just trying to protect your reputation, ma’am.”
Her gaze softened. “You’re a sweet man, Fletch.”
“Ouch. You really know how to hurt a guy.”
“It was a compliment!”
“Maybe to you, but sweet men usually lose out to the reckless and dashing kind. I’d rather you thought of me that way.”
“I can’t go with reckless. But you might have to deal with me calling you a hero, since you did just save my life. As for dashing, well, your beard gives you a real shot at that.”
“Yeah?” He rubbed a hand over his chin and winced. “Too bad. It’s history.” He pocketed his keys and opened his door. “Stay put. I’ll come around and get you.”
“That’s silly. I’m not some china doll who needs to be handled with care.” She unsnapped her seat belt. “I can get out on my own.”
He paused and turned back to her. “Obviously you don’t understand that I look for every excuse to touch you. Stay put.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Lifting you in and out of the truck makes me feel very macho, and you feel really good, so indulge me.” She also might not be as steady on her pins as she thought.
“All right.” Her voice had a cute little quiver to it, like maybe that idea was exciting to her.
When he came around to her side of the truck and opened the door, she held out her arms. “Please help me down, you big strong man, you.”
“You try my patience, woman.” But he lifted her out of the truck, and to his delight, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. “That’s more like it.” He held her close and climbed the steps to the back door.
“Sorry. I didn’t know the drill.”
“You’re kidding. Nobody’s ever carried you before?” He fished out his keys and unlocked the door.
“Not since I was five.”
“Then some guy’s missing the boat.” He got her inside just as the rain started up again. “A little thing like you is perfect for this.” He had to wonder what kind of wimpy men she’d dated, but he didn’t want to spend a whole lot of time on that subject. Thinking of her with other men could be crazy-making.
The laundry room was neat and smelled of soap and clean towels. Edna did light housekeeping for him, too, although he was a fair hand with a vacuum cleaner when necessary. Kicking the door shut, he set Astrid on the nearest available surface, which happened to be the dryer.
Then he stood back and just looked at her, astounded that she was here—and that she wanted to have sex with him. “Take off your clothes.”
“Wow, that’s romantic.”
He cursed softly. “If I take them off, we’ll never accomplish getting the washing machine started.” He leaned against the wall and pulled off his boot. “I won’t even watch you do it.” After taking off the second boot, he turned away and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Yes, but I can watch you.”
“Don’t.” He pulled off the wet shirt and tossed it to the floor. “Focus.”
Her soft laughter surrounded him like soap bubbles. “I’ve fantasized for months about seeing you nak*d. I’m not going to miss watching you strip.”
He turned, his hands at the waistband of his jeans, and sure enough, she was staring at him. She hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing. No, wait. She’d taken off her boots, which lay where she’d dropped them on the floor.
Blowing out a breath, he walked over to stand in front of her. “Guess this is up to me, after all.” He reached for the top button on her blouse.
“Just don’t forget to start the washer.”
He looked into her eyes, and they burned with the same fire that licked through his veins. “You’re a devil, you know that?” He kept unbuttoning.
Her smile taunted him. “You bring it out in me with all that macho he-man stuff.”
His c*ck stiffened so forcefully that he sucked in a breath. “Careful, lady.” He finished with the buttons but avoided looking at her br**sts as he slid the shirt over her arms. “You’re taunting the beast.”
“Am I? I kind of like that idea.” She reached out and boldly stroked his fly.
“Okay, that does it.” Abandoning the washing machine plan without a single regret, he picked her up and carried her, protesting every step of the way, to his bedroom. “You’re the one who wouldn’t take off your clothes. Now deal with it.”
“But your quilt!” she shrieked as he tossed her down and unzipped her jeans.
“It washes.” He pulled off her jeans and her panties in one swift movement, scattering dried mud and smearing the wet mud everywhere. He didn’t care. After what they’d both been through, they needed this connection, and that trumped getting dirt on his quilt.
The glory of paradise awaited him between her soft thighs, and he trembled at the thought of burying his c*ck there. He’d meant to take this slow and treasure every second, but she’d goaded him, and by God, a man had his limits. Maybe she’d meant to push him past those limits because she was desperate, too.
He shoved his jeans and briefs to the floor, stepped out of them, and grabbed a condom from the bedside table drawer, aware that she watched his every movement as he put it on. “Am I shocking you with my lack of subtlety?” He braced his arms on the mattress where she lay sprawled across it, breathing hard.
“Yes. And I love it.”
“Good answer.” Grasping her hips, he pulled her to the edge of the bed, lifted her, and pushed in deep. He saw no need for foreplay, no reason to make sure she was ready for him. Her teasing words and the flame in her blue eyes had told him all he needed to know.
Knees braced against the mattress, he held her there, anchored by his cock, and closed his eyes for a brief moment of gratitude. Rain pounded on the roof with a frenzied beat, as if urging him on. He’d hoped, he’d dreamed, but he’d never known for sure this would happen.
Then he opened his eyes to find Astrid looking up at him with excitement shining in her blue gaze.
Her lips were parted and her breath came fast. “Do me,” she murmured.
“Oh, I plan to.” Holding her steady for his thrusts, he began to move. Focused on her expressive eyes, he glided in and out, loving her as he’d longed to for months. Her pupils widened as pleasure claimed her.
She responded as he’d known she would. Clutching handfuls of the quilt, she arched toward him, telling him without words that she wanted all he had to give. He wished he’d taken off her bra so he could see her br**sts quiver each time he rocked forward.
But she’d tempted him beyond all endurance, and he’d skipped steps so that he could arrive at . . . this . . . pounding into her over and over, feeling her tighten around his cock, knowing that she was close . . . and closer still.
“Fletch . . .” Her plea was rich with passion. “Fletch, I’m . . .”
He dragged in air. “Hope so.” He kept stroking, holding the rhythm steady, relentless. “That’s the idea.”
She whimpered, and then she came apart with a wail of surrender. That sweet sound would stay with him for a long, long time. He exulted in her cli**x, pumping faster to bring her higher, and higher yet.
Then his control snapped, and he drove in once more with a groan of satisfaction. Pulsing within her, he touched heaven, and knew that from this moment forward, he’d never be satisfied with anything less than making love to Astrid.
***
Drifting in the hazy afterglow of her cli**x, Astrid listened to the rain and wallowed in bliss. That, she concluded, was how a real man made love—with confidence and complete disregard for little things like mud on the quilt. After he’d eased away from her, he’d made sure she was settled comfortably on the bed before walking into the attached master bath.
He was a wonderful combination of masterful gestures and gentle consideration. She’d never found that before in a lover, but then, she’d never been in bed with a cowboy. She wondered if the nature of his work, caring for animals that depended on him to be both strong and empathetic, brought out those qualities.
Maybe, but she also thought he was naturally that way, which was why he’d been drawn to raising horses. Her work required the same qualities, and normally she reveled in taking charge. But letting someone else do that, someone she trusted, felt amazing. For the first time in ages, she was completely relaxed.