By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс

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was unsure how to help both her and his brother, that his mother was walking on thin ice, that he had grown so used to being alone he’d learned to ignore the loneliness.

      “Think we could stop here tomorrow before we head back home?”

      “Sure.” He wanted to sit here for hours, just staring, thinking about how her eyes matched the blue of the sky. “To eat here or carry out?”

      She sighed, leaning back in the booth. “I’m taking home as much food as will fit into my fridge.”

      “That would be what, half a sandwich?”

      She glowered. “There’s another fridge in the stable, you know. A big one.”

      “I don’t think you’re supposed to put the cheesecake on the same shelf as the pergolide.”

      “Where there’s a will…as they say.”

      “I’d be delighted to help you improve your stash. Frozen burritos? That’s just not right.”

      Annie leaned forward. “Guess what? You do what you have to. Money’s tight. And you know as well as I do that horses are accidents waiting to happen. Not to mention goats. I swear, they should have first-aid competitions at rodeos. I can wrap a blown kneecap in under a minute when necessary. And that includes any injections.”

      How was it possible to become even more impressed with this woman? And how quickly could he get her back to his hotel room?

       12

      “LET ME HELP YOU WITH THAT,” Tucker said, walking toward Annie with a wicked smile.

      “You’re so thoughtful.” She had already taken off her boots and socks and left them in the main room. The bath was filling quickly, the scent of lilacs hinted at summer gardens and would be forever imprinted with Tucker in her memory.

      Unlike the first rush to push aside anything standing in the way of sex, he took his time unbuttoning her shirt. Would she have to get rid of these clothes once he left? Hide them in coffee cans so they wouldn’t torment her?

      She closed her eyes, forcing herself to be present, right here, right now. Why was it so difficult to stay in the moment with him? To experience every second as it was happening instead of jumping ahead?

      After her shirt fell, she took hold of him. Instantly, she felt more grounded. Of course she’d have to let him go, but for now, contact was all important.

      He’d been looking down at her chest, at her ugly bra, but then he shifted his gaze to her face, to her eyes. His touch halted as they met in a kiss. It was easy and sexy, and each time they parted lips, they kept hold of each other with their warm breath, and when they came back together it was a jolt of the best kind. Again and again, as if they were near a waterfall, lying in a meadow, alone in a steamy cave, all at once while never leaving the simple, spacious bathroom in an ordinary hotel.

      Both of his hands, so strong and real, went to her bare waist and she came back to earth. He undid the buttons of her jeans as if he were popping champagne corks, and the image made her laugh.

      “What?”

      “Nothing. You. A bubble bath.”

      Just his smile did startling things to her. “Exciting, huh?”

      “You have no idea. I have recurring dreams of taking long, luxurious soaks in perfectly scented water.”

      “Did they include a devilishly handsome man tending to your every need?”

      She sighed as she leaned against him. “They will from now on.”

      “Good,” he said, his lips close to her ear. “Keep that thought.” Pulling away, he turned off the water, then came back to finish his task.

      “I like that look.”

      She shook her head, not understanding.

      “You, just like that. Your jeans open, bare feet.”

      “My retro bra?”

      “Yes, even your retro bra. I want to get my camera, take a picture. I’d put it up on the inside of my locker.”

      She grinned, because it was such a sweet notion. “You’re a long way from locker rooms.”

      “I don’t know. I could go to a gym. I think I’d sign up for one if you’d be my pinup.”

      “Those kind of lockers are temporary.”

      His smile changed into something else. “And you’re for keeps.”

      She stopped. Stopped everything, including breathing, because he hadn’t meant…That would be ridiculous. Turning away, not wanting to see him wince at his mistake, she finished taking off her jeans.

      When she reached behind to unfasten her bra, he touched her hands, moving them down. His mouth went to the curve of her neck, where he brushed away the awkwardness with his cool lips and warm tongue.

      She let her bra slide down her arms, pool at her feet. His gentle hands cupped her, teased her nipples. She cocked her head to the side to give him all the room he wanted, and he kept up his delicious assault on the sensitive skin just below her ear.

      Her eyes opened—she hadn’t even realized they were closed. Now she was facing the mirror, but she couldn’t see herself or Tucker clearly. They were shapes in the steam, nothing specific and real, and wasn’t that perfect?

      Nothing real. This was the image she’d hang on to. The one that felt like a dream. Anything else was too dangerous.

      Tucker chose that moment to run his hand down her belly straight into her panties. Dreams be damned. His finger found the precise spots that would give her the most pleasure, and he played her like a Stradivarius.

      Part of what made her body thrum was listening to his breathing change. Deepen. Grow harsh and insistent as she trembled. Two fingers pushed inside her, though the building pressure of his circling thumb was what got to her the most.

      Standing was becoming an issue. She reached behind her and grabbed what she could. Lucky for her, it was mostly his butt. God, the thickness of the denim was unfair. She wanted skin…she wanted to grip him with both hands and feel those muscles. Mark him so that later, when they were in bed, she could run her tongue where she’d scratched.

      “Jesus,” he whispered. The pumping stopped as he pushed his hips forward, pressing his trapped erection against her bottom. He hadn’t even taken off her panties, and she was going to come.

      She ground back into him, even though it cost her the pressure of his thumb, the steady buildup of intensity. Didn’t matter, his groan was worth it.

      He bent lower again, and this time, he wasn’t teasing. Not with his fingers and not with his mouth. There were no kisses. Just his voice. Closer than anything, almost inside her head as he whispered, “Come for me, sweetheart. Come on. I want to feel you squeeze

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