significant?”
“Yes. Very.”
“Because?”
She pushed her chair back again, leaving her tea still untouched. “Because two months will go by too fast. And it seems to me that we shouldn’t waste a day, an hour, another minute of the time we have together.”
He stared at her. And then, slowly, he rose to his feet. They faced each other, with only the round kitchen table between them. He asked, rough and low, “What are telling me, Tori?”
She approached him slowly, untying the sash of her robe as she came. When she reached him, she dropped the sash to the floor and eased the robe from her shoulders. It fell away without a sound. Underneath she wore a short summer nightgown with tiny satin straps that tied in charming little bows at her shoulders. That nightgown revealed a lot more than it covered.
His desire, carefully banked until then, flared high. “You are so beautiful.”
“Take me in your arms, Connor,” she whispered, lifting on tiptoe, her breasts brushing his chest, making the flare of desire burn all the hotter. “Take me in your arms and hold me all night long.”
Chapter Six
Connor’s newfound conscience urged him to argue with her, to tell her she ought to think twice about this, to grab her by the shoulders and put her firmly away from him, to speak reasonably about taking their time, to remind her again about not rushing into anything she might regret later.
But she had it right, after all. They didn’t have a lot of time. Just one short summer.
And wasting a minute of it, now they were both on the same page about where they were going?
Uh-uh. No way.
He wrapped his arms around her, good and tight. And he kissed her, deeply. Endlessly. His mouth locked to hers, drinking her in, he bent to scoop her up high in his arms.
She pulled her soft lips from his just long enough to fling out a hand in the general direction of the great room and to whisper, “That way …”
He claimed her mouth again and started walking, carrying her out of the kitchen, across the great room, to her bedroom not far from the entryway. The door was wide open. He went in.
At the side of the bed, he lowered her feet to the rug. Dizzy with the scent of her, with the taste of her, and the soft, arousing feel of her body so close to him, somehow he still managed to break the incredible kiss.
He knew that they had to be at least a little bit responsible. “I should have thought of this.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t have condoms …”
She surged up, caught his mouth in a swift, hot kiss, and then sank back to her heels again. “It’s okay.” She rested her small hands, palms flat, against his chest. “I have them.” Her dreamy gaze turned rueful. “I always wanted to be ready, in case it ever felt right with someone. It never did—not in the whole time I’ve lived in Thunder Canyon. Not until tonight …”
“Well.” He ran his palms down the silky skin of her arms. So smooth. And she smelled so good. Like fresh, ripe strawberries and sugared lemons, both at the same time. “Okay, then.”
“Just okay?” she teased him.
He chuckled. “Better than okay. Way, way better.”
“Then kiss me, Connor.” Her eyes were mossy green at that moment, and shining so bright. “Kiss me again …”
He didn’t have to be told a third time. He caught her sweet lips and she opened for him, letting his tongue in to play with hers. And as he kissed her, she turned slightly, moving them both around, until the backs of his legs touched the side of the bed.
She guided him, gently pushing him back, until he lay across the tangled white sheets. And she came down with him, soft and sighing, her mouth so wet and sweet. He couldn’t get enough of her kisses, couldn’t get enough of her.
But then she pulled away and rose up on an elbow. She gazed down at him, her lips soft and swollen, her eyes making tempting erotic promises as she tugged on his shirttail, sliding her fingers beneath the knit fabric to caress him.
He groaned at her touch, at the way her soft fingers glided over his flesh, tenderly, teasingly. And he wanted to feel her, all of her, skin to skin. So he sat up, kissed her once, hard and fast, and ripped his shirt up and over his head. Swiftly, he yanked off his boots and got rid of his socks. He undid the button at the top of his fly, and tugged the zipper down. Lifting his hips, he shoved the jeans and his boxer briefs halfway down his thighs.
She helped him, getting hold of the jeans and the briefs, sliding them off the rest of the way, tossing them over the edge of the bed.
At last, he was naked. He felt her gaze on him, sweeping upward over his body to meet his waiting eyes.
She breathed his name on a long sigh. “Connor.” And she swayed against him.
Magic, the feel of her smooth skin pressed to his. He caught her, pulling her close, tucking her tightly to his bare chest, reveling in the silky feel of her hair against his flesh, in the delicacy of her body, the way it curved into his, in the scent of her, so fresh and clean and sweet.
“Tori.” Her name sounded so good on his tongue.
She tipped her head back to him with a questioning sound.
“Tori …” He kissed her. And that time, while he kissed her, he touched her, clasping her slim upper arm, palming the firm curve of her shoulder.
Such soft, tempting skin, and all of it his to caress. He traced a finger inward, skimming the bows that held her nightgown in place. And then up, along the velvety skin of her neck, until he reached the heated flutter of her pulse, waiting there for him, in the vulnerable cove at the side of her throat.
He laid his whole hand, flat, against the satiny warmth of her upper chest. Lower still, he curved his fingers around a high, firm breast. She moaned when he did that, and moaned again as he found her nipple through the thin cloth of her nightgown and teased it, rolling it tenderly between his thumb and forefinger.
Those sweet little bows at her shoulders? By then he couldn’t resist them. He made short work of them, pulling the end of one and then the other. They fell apart, taking the top of her flimsy little gown down with them.
Her breasts were revealed to him, round and firm, compact, the skin so fine, the delicate blue veins showing faintly beneath. He eased her to her back, bent his head and took her pretty pink nipple into his mouth. She groaned deep in her chest when he did that, and pulled him close to her. He drew on her breast, strongly, and she bowed her slim torso toward him, lifting her breasts, offering him more of her.
The hem of her short gown rode high on her smooth thighs. He reached down, guided it higher.
She wore nothing beneath. He touched her belly, stroking, loving the feel of her, enjoying the eager way she gave herself, so openly, without holding anything of herself away from him. She groaned and clutched his head even
