True-Blue Cowboy - Vicki Lewis Thompson Page 0,39
I stink. I can’t imagine what—”
“This is a first for me, FYI.”
“Having sex in a hot dusty attic? Same here.”
“That, too. But this is the first time I’ve turned into a maniac because of the way a man smelled. I’ve heard friends say that their guy’s body odor turns them on. I thought they were kidding.”
His eyes widened. “Are you telling me you like the way I smell?”
“I don’t just like it.” She scratched her fingernails down his furred chest. “It gets me hot. Ravenous.”
His eyes darkened. “Noticed that. And once you lost it, I lost it.”
She smiled. “Noticed that.”
“I couldn’t have stopped if someone had turned a fire hose on me. I was out of my mind.”
“Not totally. You wouldn’t let me—”
“I didn’t dare unzip. I might’ve done something stupid.”
“Instead you did something amazing. And generous. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime you want to be tossed down naked on a dusty attic floor and ravished, let me know. I hope you don’t end up with splinters.”
“I won’t. I’m lying on clothes. Mostly. Besides, the ravishing was worth a splinter or two.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I suppose it’s time for me to move, but I’m boneless right now. I don’t feel like putting on my clothes, either. What I want is a shower and a clean outfit.”
“Want me to carry you down to your bedroom so you can get started?”
She laughed. “That’s hardly necessary.”
“I want to. It appeals to me.”
“The stairway is narrow. Carrying me down there wouldn’t work very well.”
“Yes, it would.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I’m the one who made you wobbly so I’m the one who should get you downstairs. I’ll use the fireman’s carry.”
“Is that the one where I’d be hanging upside down over your shoulder?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ever tried it?”
“Heavens, no! I haven’t been carried anywhere since I was four, let alone while I was ass over teakettle.”
“It’s fun. I’ve practiced with the Brotherhood lots of times. We can all carry each other except I’m the only one who can carry Rafe.”
“I’m slightly smaller and lighter than Rafe.” Maybe it would be fun, at that.
“You’ll be like a feather. And you’d like it.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s a chance to let yourself go, let something happen without trying to control it.”
“Like an orgasm?”
“Well, it’s not that good. But hanging upside down helps your brain. Gets the blood circulating better.”
“You sold me. I’m in. What should I do?”
“Nothing. Lie down and roll over on your stomach. Go limp.”
She stretched out and rolled over. “I’m already limp.”
“See? This is the perfect time to try it.”
“Should I close my eyes?”
“Up to you.”
“I’m closing them. I’ll pretend you’re hauling me back to your cave to ravish me again.”
“Wish I could. But I have stones to dig.” He slid his hands under her armpits.
“I wondered if you’d forgotten about those.”
“No, ma’am.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Up you go.” He lifted her parallel to his body and put his knee between her thighs.
The balance shifted as he crouched, grasping her wrist with one hand and her thigh with the other. When he stood, she was perfectly balanced on his broad shoulders.
He wasn’t even breathing hard. “How’re you doing?”
“This is freaky. The blood’s rushing to my head. How’re you doing?”
“My blood’s rushing somewhere else. This is nothing like carrying one of the guys. I just made the mistake of looking at you in the mirror.”
“Which side?”
“This side.” He squeezed her bottom.
“It was your idea.”
“I know. Could get me in trouble.” He nuzzled her hip. “You taste as good as you look.”
“Want to put me down?”
“Not yet. We’re moving out.”
“Watch your head.”
“Thanks.”
Eyes closed, breasts tucked against his muscled back, she breathed in his manly scent. “I’m getting hot.”
“Which kind?”
“The ravenous kind.”
His breath hitched. “Might have to do something about that when we get down the stairs.”
“What about digging up stones?”
“Might have to wait.” He started down the stairs, going slow.
With each step, she bounced slightly. By the third one, she’d started giggling.
“What?”
“This is ridiculous.” She laughed harder. “I can’t believe I let you throw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes with my bare ass in the air. What must that look like?”
“I know exactly what it looks like.” His voice was a low growl of frustration. “I’ll thank you not to remind me.”
“Jeans a little tight, are they?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a light pinch. “Getting hot, you say?”
She giggled. “Put me down, crazy man!”
“We’re almost there. Two more steps. Then we’ll—”
“Eva?” Fiona’s voice drifted up from