Taken, Not Spurred (Page 32)

Taken, Not Spurred (Lone Star Burn #1)(32)
Author: Ruth Cardello

Her eyes narrowed and he laughed. “Take it or leave it. Stay on my terms, or say the word and I’ll drive you back to the ranch. You can call your boring ex to pick you up.”

Sarah’s chest heaved angrily. Tony was pretty sure those lovely brown eyes cursed at him, but he didn’t care. She wasn’t going anywhere, and they both knew it.

He removed his hand from her mouth. “So, are you staying or going?”

She pressed her lips together angrily, but didn’t say a word.

He rewarded her obedience with a deep kiss and reveled in the heat her anger brought to it. She was on fire beneath him, and he soon lost himself in more than her kiss.

An hour later, Sarah shivered beneath Tony’s finger as it absently traced one of her nipples, marveling at how it hardened and sprang to life for him. She’d had more sex in the past twenty-four hours than she normally had in months, and somehow she was ready for more.

She blushed as she remembered how wantonly, wordlessly, she’d begged him to enter her after a torturous amount of foreplay. His fingers had teased what his mouth had gloriously tasted and suckled later. He’d brought her to a passionate frenzy, then kissed her back and neck while rubbing his rock-hard dick across her clit from behind.

Faced away from him on all fours, she’d lifted her ass for him, opening herself completely to him with a mix of desire and trust. He’d buried one hand in the back of her hair to hold her in place while he’d thrust into her, again and again until they both found release in a glorious explosion of sensation.

They’d collapsed into each other’s arms.

Normally, Sarah would have chattered about something to fill the silence, but she honored their agreement and kept her thoughts to herself. Instead of being awkward, the quiet seemed to extend their intimacy.

Which doesn’t mean I agree with his rule, but I’ll give him his day of silence. It’s better than the alternative: going back to Fort Mavis.

Besides, he doesn’t fool me.

He doesn’t like to talk because he thinks that he can’t get hurt if he doesn’t let anyone close.

He’s trying to control whatever is between us.

But he can’t any more than I can.

The only disappointment so far is he hasn’t got the rope.

She gurgled to hold in a laugh, and he looked down at her in question. She smirked up at him. I’d tell you, but you won’t let me speak.

“There’s food in the kitchen. Go make us breakfast, but stay naked.”

Sarah cocked her head to one side at him. Really? You’re enjoying this a bit too much, buddy.

He slapped her bare rump with a force that made her jump. She met his eyes again and opened her mouth to say something.

His eyes dared her to.

She snapped her mouth shut. I’ll make your damn breakfast, but I’ll also remember this. You’ll be at my mercy one day, and I’ll enjoy every moment of making you pay.

She stood near the bed, stretched her arms out, and arched her back in a yawn, loving how quickly burning desire replaced all smugness in his face. Oh yeah, you can pretend to be in control all you want, but I know the truth.

She took her time crossing the room to the door, stopping to look over her shoulder at him. He didn’t attempt to hide how aroused he was. She smiled back at him.

Times like this make me wish I knew how to cook.

The kitchen was surprisingly well stocked considering he’d said he never came here. No, wait. He said he never brought anyone else here. He could come here all the time for all I know. Does he have help cleaning? Buying groceries?

More questions for after the silence game.

Sarah took two pieces of bread and put them in a toaster oven. Who doesn’t have a regular toaster? The dials offered too many choices. Temp. Timer. All levels of toast darkness. I just want to press a lever down and see toast when it’s done. She turned the dial for toast halfway and walked to the refrigerator.

In movies, everyone knows how to whip up sophisticated postsex omelets. Tony would have to deal with simpler thanks-for-the-orgasms scrambled eggs. She preheated the pan, searched for nonstick spray, then settled on a pat of butter to stop the eggs from sticking.

As her confidence grew, Sarah began to hum a pop tune and dance, loving how free and uninhibited she felt. I could get used to cooking naked. This is fun.

She navigated his coffee machine with relative ease, danced her way over to save the slightly burned toast, and hummed her way to the quickly cooking eggs. Crap, my mom always added milk. Is it too late? She poured a bit in the pan and wrinkled her nose when the milk and eggs didn’t mix.

Oh well. I’ll drain it.

A hunt through the cabinets below the sink produced a serving tray. Sarah placed two plates of food, some silverware, and two cups of coffee on it. She added a small bit of milk and sugar to hers and hesitated before adding any to his, then smiled mischievously.

I’d ask him how he likes his coffee, but oh damn, that silence thing again.

She gleefully added three teaspoons of sugar to his cup. It was difficult not to laugh at his expression when she approached the bed and placed the tray on his lap. He studied the burnt toast and the watery eggs and demanded, “Did you do this on purpose?”

Sarah pointed to her closed mouth and gave him a sarcastic wish-I-could-tell-you shrug.

He took a sip of the coffee and spit it out, glowering at her.

Oh, poor baby. I guess you don’t like it sweet.

When he put the tray to one side, she stepped away from the bed instinctively and sprinted toward the door. He moved with the swiftness of a hunter and blocked her retreat. He reached out to grab her, but Sarah beat him to the punch and threw herself in his arms, leaving him no choice but to catch her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. The heat that sprang between them rocked all thought out of her.

He lifted her by the waist and crushed her hungrily against the wall. Without clothing to remove, there was just the instant feel of their mutual excitement. “God,” he said against her neck, “what are you doing to me?”

Sarah silenced his question with another deep kiss and let her actions be her answer. She wrapped her legs around his waist and arched to give him access to all of her, which he quickly and extensively took advantage of.

When he finally rammed inside her, it was without comment, control, or a condom. Just when Sarah thought it couldn’t get better, she felt the unobstructed intimacy of him bared, and the heat of his release within her.

He kept pumping after his release so she could have hers and then carried her back to the bed. He sat her on the uncluttered side of the bed and covered his face with his hands. “Tell me you’re on birth control.”