wasn’t the end of things with Greta. He had a feeling it was just the beginning. All he had to do was convince her of that fact.
Greta lay in the center of the king-size bed, Tyler’s T-shirt smelling of fresh Oklahoma air and a hint of ocean-breeze fabric softener.
It was still early, just a little after nine, but she’d needed to escape from Tyler. She should’ve just driven home, but the truth was the wine had gone to her head, as had Tyler’s invitation to share his bed.
She’d heard him go into his room just a few minutes earlier. Since it was a Tuesday night, he probably had gone to bed early because he had to work the next day.
They both would have to be up early if he was going to show her his troubled horse before he left for work. The possibility of working with a new horse was exciting. She was in desperate need of a challenge, and training this horse would fit the bill.
She closed her eyes, seeking sleep, but her mind conjured up a vision of the man in the next room. Did he sleep in pajamas or was he naked beneath his sheets? His unbuttoned shirt had given her a tantalizing peek at his bare chest. What would he look like with no shirt? What would he look like naked? A rivulet of heat worked through her. Drat the man anyway.
Mark had never gazed at her with such an unabashed desire. She’d never seen utter lust, such blatant hunger for her, in any man’s eyes before tonight.
She’d seen it in Tyler’s and she’d be a fool not to admit that he’d stirred something in the very depths of her, a hunger she hadn’t known existed.
Mindless pleasure—she knew that was what she would find in his arms. Not love, not a promise for any future relationship. He’d offered her only one night of throwing caution to the wind and having uncomplicated sex with him.
After everything that had happened at the ranch over the past five months, mindless pleasure and uncomplicated sex sounded far too appealing.
She rolled over on her back and stared up at the ceiling, where pale moonlight danced tiny strands of illumination as it filtered through the slight part in the curtains at the window.
She couldn’t go to sleep, because she was hot and bothered and curious. She’d known in her head that Mark had been cheating on her long before she had acknowledged it in her heart. She hadn’t wanted to believe it, but the signs had been there.
Several times she’d thought of calling off the wedding, but for the first time in her life she’d enjoyed a real relationship with her mother, Abra. They had bonded over picking out flowers and deciding on arrangements, checking out caterers and choosing the size and flavor for the wedding cake.
She’d never seen her mother look so happy, and she’d felt incredibly responsible when Mark had broken their engagement, the wedding plans were called off, and her mother had fallen into one of her bouts of depression. At least her mother hadn’t jumped on a jet to head to Europe like she’d done in the past when the depression struck. Of course, her health wasn’t as good as it had once been.
Greta rolled over, this time curling into a fetal ball as a vision of Tyler once again filled her head.
She’d always found him incredibly handsome. While she’d seen the effect of his sexy smile on other women, he’d always been very cool and reserved around her.
Tonight she’d felt the force of that sexy smile, the intensity of his midnight blue eyes directed at her, and she’d liked it. She was surprised to discover a want inside her, a desire to throw caution to the wind, abandon her good senses and go crawl into his bed.
Mindless pleasure between two consenting adults. Would it really be wrong? She was on her feet at the side of the bed before she realized she’d consciously made up her mind.
Before she could change it, she walked out of her bedroom and into his. The moonlight in his room was brighter, drifting through a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows on the opposite side of the large room.
He sat up, a dark silhouette in the king-size bed. “Greta? Do you need something?” His voice sounded deeper, huskier than usual. She walked to stand at the very edge of his bed, his features now visible to her.
Hunger. It shone from his eyes and stole not only her power to speak but also momentarily her ability to breathe. He didn’t say anything. He lifted the sheet that covered him and she slid in beside him.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly.
“I’m here,” she replied.
She tried to tell herself it was the dizzying effect of the wine, the stress of the past five months in her life. She tried to believe that she wasn’t herself, that she was acting irrationally, but the truth was she just wanted him to make love to her.
He pulled her into his arms and took her mouth with his in a fiery openmouthed kiss that heated her from head to toe. He continued to kiss her until she couldn’t think. At the same time his hands moved languidly up and down the back of the T-shirt, stopping just shy of her bare buttocks.
She ran her hands across his shoulders and back, vaguely surprised by the play of hard muscles beneath his warm skin, muscles that were usually hidden beneath crisp white shirts and expensive suit coats.
He wore a pair of boxers, and those and her T-shirt were the only barriers between them and total naked flesh.
A small moan escaped her lips as his hands moved beneath her T-shirt at the same time his mouth slid down the length of her throat. He nibbled and teased her neck and then sucked one of her nipples through the thin cotton material. Flames of desire flared hot through her.
She reached down, slid her hand beneath the band of his boxers and grasped him. He was fully erect and after that everything happened in a haze.
T-shirt and boxers were gone, leaving them naked and gasping.
He teased and tormented her, stroking every inch of her body. He was confident and masterful in his touch and shot electric pleasure through her.
He followed his heated caresses with his mouth, kissing her in places she’d never been kissed before.
In turn, she did the same, stroking his smooth, muscled back, kissing down his neck and across his broad chest.
She was on fire and only he could put out the flames. She moved her hips against his, wanting...needing him to take her.
When his fingers danced across the place where she needed him to touch her most, she gasped in fevered delight.
His fingers pressed harder, moved faster against her sensitive center, and a rising, overwhelming tension filled her.
As it peaked she rode the wave of a climax that left her shuddering with the force of the release. He didn’t give her time to catch her breath. He moved between her thighs and took her.
He stroked deep and slow, and the rise of her pleasure began to build again. She moaned his name and he increased the speed of his thrusts. Her hips met his as they moved in a frenzy.
They ended together, with her crying with her own climax as he
