Wildflower Ridge - Sherryl Woods Page 0,155

over. Still, she was tempted to go on.

Could she slide his shirt off and circle his masculine nipples with her tongue? She wisely held off on that one.

All of these were things she’d been imagining herself doing during the lonely nights when she’d been alone in her own bed while Cord slept just down the hall on the sofa. Was this her chance to experiment with her most wicked fantasies without risking her heart?

She sighed and rested her cheek against his chest, listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. His arms circled her waist. His hands rested low on her backside, tucking her body into intimate contact with his. There was no mistaking the hard length of his arousal beneath his jeans. She found that even more wildly intoxicating than that very dangerous drink she’d had.

This was Cord, she reminded herself. No man on earth was more blatantly masculine. No man she’d ever known could make her knees weak with a glance. No man had ever proved himself as capable of unselfish, generous love.

She felt her skin grow hot, felt the rush of moisture at the apex of her thighs, the pull low in her belly. Surrounded by the heat and the scent of him, she was lost, drawn to become the new woman who had walked off the plane eager for new experiences.

She looked up and met Cord’s hooded gaze “Take me back to the room,” she whispered. “Now.”

He went utterly still. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

To her amusement, after he’d paid the bill, Cord took her the long way back to the room, along a winding path through scented flowers and twinkling white lights. She supposed he’d done it to give her time to reconsider, but instead the path he’d chosen only added to the magic. She felt as if they were walking through a fairy-tale world, where nothing could ever, ever go wrong.

He cast one last questioning look at her when they stepped inside the room, but at her nod, he moved in close and brushed a kiss across her lips. No butterfly’s touch could have been lighter, yet Sharon Lynn felt the impact of that kiss all the way to her toes. It sent her reeling. If he intended to go about this so slowly, so reverently, she was going to shatter into a zillion pieces.

She wanted fast. She wanted mindless. She wanted to be caught up in all-consuming passion. And the only way to make sure of that was to reach for Cord, to strip off his shirt with a scattering of buttons, to startle him with an eager reach for the zipper of his jeans.

After one stunned instant while he assessed her reckless mood, he smiled. He had her out of her own clothes in a matter of seconds, shredding some of them in his impatience.

At last, she cried inwardly as his hands were everywhere, stirring her, arousing her, giving pleasure so intense that she wondered at the foolishness that had prevented her from seeking it before now. He took her to a climax that left her slick with sweat and shuddering with the force of it.

Then and only then did he kneel above her. Gazing into her eyes, he slowly entered her, filled her and took her on another incredible journey to a level of passion she’d only dreamed of.

Stunned by the sensations rippling through in its aftermath, she glanced across the bed to find Cord’s steady gaze on her. He reached across and brushed a wayward tendril of damp hair back from her face.

“When you’ve caught your breath,” he suggested softly, “we’ll try that again.”

Something in his voice hinted at censure. “Cord, what’s wrong?”

“The next time I want to make love to you, darlin’. I don’t want to be in a rush just to make sure you won’t change your mind.”

A chill washed over her. Had he seen through her so clearly, had he guessed that the urgency was borne of panic, the fear that if she allowed herself to make love with him, to truly feel the wild sweep of emotions, she would never be able to let him go?

To her surprise, she must have been crying because Cord brushed away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t cry, darlin’. Please don’t cry. That wasn’t meant as a criticism. All I meant was that I’ve been looking forward to making love with you for what seems like forever. Next time

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