Billy's Baby - Annie J. Rose Page 0,23
his arm.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, “just the way you said it would be. Oh!” I exclaimed as a lizard slithered across by my boot. “That is the prettiest lizard I ever saw.” I whipped out my phone and took a picture, but wasn’t fast enough.
“And you’re the first hiker I ever heard call those lizards beautiful.”
“Don’t you think they are?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said. “And if you look up, there are some tiny white birds with orange-tipped wings. They’re no bigger than your thumb when they hatch.”
I nodded and scanned the canopy, craned my neck until I stumbled backward a step. Billy’s big hands closed around my arms and steadied me.
“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice low in my ear. It felt like the stroke of his hand on the back of my neck and in my hair, felt like his mouth on mine. That voice, and the way he spoke, low and confidential, turned me on plain and simple.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll keep my eyes on the trail.” I looked down and oriented myself so I didn’t get dizzy again. He waited, his hands still holding my arms. “I’m okay now.”
As soon as I said that, he released me. But his big hand came to the small of my back for a second, warm in the curve of my spine and making me yearn for him. I’m sure he meant to be reassuring, to make sure I was fine. It couldn’t have been that he just couldn’t resist an intimate touch. I wished he was touching my bare skin, and my mouth crooked up at the corner at the thought. I was here to enjoy the nature hike, not to try and bone the tour guide. I made myself take a few steps ahead of him and examine a delicate, feathery moss on the side of a smooth tree trunk.
“It’s furry,” I said. It looks so soft. I think if you touched this one—which I won’t because I don’t want to damage it—it would be delicate and soft like the tips of feathers.”
Billy dragged one fingertip down my arm from my shoulder to my elbow, tracing a path of sharp desire on my skin.
“Like that?” he asked, eyes dark on mine. I swallowed with effort and lifted my hand. I set one finger just below his jaw and trailed it, barely touching him, down the column of his neck. Corded muscle tightened and tensed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. I smirked at him.
“Like that,” I corrected archly.
He had taken me by surprise, but I had given as good as I got. I liked playing with Billy, teasing him. It was easily the hottest flirtation I’d ever had. It would be too easy to believe Billy would be the best of everything I’d ever had, if I’d let myself have him. There was no question he wanted me, too. The testosterone that came off the man in heady waves was unmistakable. He was the most masculine, intimidating, sexiest man I’d ever seen. He made me feel protected and feminine and alluring. I wanted to be under him, pressed down into the velvety moss and the cool earth as he drove into me deeply, his striking green eyes above me and his lush mouth a frown of erotic concentration. I let my eyes drift shut for a moment and then shook off the fantasy. Why couldn’t I see freaking moss without wanting to have sex with this man?
“So now that I’ve seen the best moss you have to offer, what’s next on the trail?” I said, brushing off the potent attraction between us and my preoccupation with how sexy he was and how much I wanted him.
“Up ahead there are some leaves and sticks,” he said wryly, “in case you want to pet those.”
“Sure thing,” I said. “I’m a nature girl. But I don’t pet the flora and fauna. Too many people are careless and damage things without thinking.”
We walked on, and it was a tricky path, narrow, rocky in some places and slick in others. Always there was Billy’s hand, reaching out to steady me, to give me balance when things got rough. I reached for him and relied on him without a second thought. I realized that I had no reservations about trusting him, about knowing he’d catch me if I fell. The path was crowded close on either side by thick undergrowth and trees, shadowed by the branches and leaves high above us. A