The Marshal's Hostage - By Delores Fossen Page 0,57

either she was very bad at putting on a condom or else she wanted to torture him. By the time she finally got the darn thing in place, he was well past being ready.

She thrust her hips forward just as he entered her, and Dallas had to muffle his own sharp groan. This one was from pure pleasure. The sensation of being inside her shot through him. Like lightning. And probably just as hot because he lost his breath and didn’t care if he ever got it back.

He moved.

Joelle did, too.

The pace and rhythm was fast and hard and only got faster and harder. With one hand he grabbed her bottom so he could control this war they’d waged on each other. With his other hand, he caught her hair and bent her head so that he could go after her neck.

Yeah, it was playing dirty.

But she was so caught up in the pleasure of it that she slowed down just enough for Dallas to take her the way he wanted to take her. A few strokes of slow and easy that had her making that little purring whimper that had haunted him for all these years.

Joelle purred, all right. And with another of those siren moves, she lifted herself to him one last time.

Before she shattered.

“Dallas,” she said, her voice strained.

That was enough for him. All he needed. He gathered her close and let Joelle finish what she’d started.

Chapter Sixteen

Joelle felt the unfamiliar warmth next to her body, and her eyes flew open. She would have scrambled right off the bed if someone hadn’t grabbed her and pulled her back.

Dallas was that warmth.

And the memories of what had caused it came flooding back. She was at the ranch. In his bed. And she’d brazenly thrown herself at him.

Thank goodness he hadn’t refused her.

Well, she hoped it was thank goodness. There would probably be consequences, but Joelle pushed those aside, turned and looked up at the man who had her wrapped in his arms.

“It’s around five,” he grumbled, though she had no idea how he knew that since he didn’t even open his eyes to check the time.

She glanced at the clock. Yep, he was right. Barely five in the morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet. And although they had a ton of stuff to do and discuss, she settled back against him and let herself enjoy the moment.

“I’ve never woken up next to you before,” she whispered. Joelle glanced down at their positions on the bed. “You hog the covers.”

He chuckled, the sound a low rumble in his chest, and he pulled her even closer against him. More warmth. More memories, too. The memories got a little fresher when he nuzzled the back of her neck.

She made a shameless sound of pleasure. “You’ve gotten better at this over the years. All that practice you did on me must have helped.”

“You weren’t practice, Joelle.” His voice was still a sleepy mumble so it took her a moment to realize what he’d said.

And what he didn’t say.

“Then what was I?” she asked.

“Trouble.” Dallas rolled her over and kissed her. “You still are.”

It seemed like a light answer for something she knew they’d soon have to discuss. Or rather clarify. After all, never once had he told her how he felt about her. But she looked at his face and sort of lost that train of thought.

Oh, mercy.

How could anyone look that good at this time of day? Maybe it was the semidarkness, but Joelle didn’t think so.

Dallas hadn’t been practice for her, that’s for sure.

He’d been her benchmark, and no man since had quite measured up. Maybe no one ever would. Not exactly a comforting thought for a woman who wanted marriage and kids.

She ran her hand between them. “You didn’t have all this chest hair when you were seventeen.” She liked it. A lot. Joelle tugged at some of the strands until he winced and opened one eye to peek out.

“Put your hand lower and do that, and I might wake up.”

Now she chuckled, and her hand was already heading in that direction when a buzzing sound cut through the room. Both of them cursed, and Dallas leaned over her to pick up his cell, which was on the nightstand.

“It’s Lindsey,” he relayed, adding the exact profanity that Joelle was thinking. Dallas hesitated, as if he might not answer it at all, but then his attention went back to the clock.

Judging from the hour, this probably wasn’t a casual