Tough Love
Page 41
Huh. That morning she’d had one heck of a time getting them out. They’d only wanted to go if she also went, and whenever she tried to come back in, they followed.
Hands on her hips, she watched Maggie and Norwood chase after a bird, then bark at a squirrel. Together they ran the perimeter of the yard, then tussled like happy children.
“Remarkable.”
“Armie said he worked with them a little while you napped.”
“Armie, too, is remarkable.”
That made him frown—and almost made her grin.
“Armie also bought them some treats. I should have thought of that myself—” he sent her a scalding look “—but I was too busy trying to get you naked.”
Wondering how soon they could get to it, Vanity bit her bottom lip and nodded.
Standing in the open doorway to the yard, Stack slowly looked her over. “Speaking of naked, you aren’t wearing a bra.”
“No.”
“Where’d you get the shirt?”
So he had been wondering. Nervous, anxious fingers twisted in the hem. “Cannon gave it to me.”
That seemed to appease him. “Looks good on you.” Turning, he whistled to the dogs, and once he had their attention, he knelt down and offered the big chew toys.
Norwood got his first. Eyes big with gluttony, he carried it over to a tree and hunkered down to enjoy it.
Maggie sniffed hers excitedly, then with delicate care, closed her teeth around it and joined Norwood.
“That ought to keep them busy.”
Yes, she wanted uninterrupted time with Stack, but she refused to put the dogs at risk. “Is it safe?”
“Armie said he checked your fence. It’s all good. And trust me, if they want back in, they’ll let us know.”
Ridiculous shyness came over her. “We’re finally going to do this?”
Stepping in and quietly closing the door, Stack watched her. “You tell me.”
“What?” He didn’t sound all that anxious.
Snagging her hand, he pulled her in close and feathered a kiss over the bridge of her nose, the top of her cheek, her jaw. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever.” One hand opened over her back, urging her closer. “But if you think you need more time, I’ll deal with it.”
Such a remarkable offer. “You are the sweetest man.”
Squeezing her in close, he put a tickling, growling bite to that sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.
Vanity wanted to both melt and giggle. “Stack.”
“I’m not sweet, I’m horny.” He cupped her face. “So what’s the verdict?”
“It sure isn’t waiting.” She pushed out of his arms, grabbed his hand and practically hauled him down the hallway. Laughing behind her, Stack allowed himself to be led.
Right before they reached her bedroom, he took the lead, drew her into the room and closed the door with her up against it. Pressing his body to hers, he took her mouth, all soft and gentle—for about three seconds. Angling his head for a better fit, he licked her bottom lip, then stroked his way inside, playing with her tongue, exploring, getting her hotter by the second.
She clung to his shoulders and felt the rising tension in him as the kiss went deeper, wetter, more possessive. He needed this worse than she did—and that was saying a lot, given how badly she wanted him. But where he’d ensured her pleasure, twice, he’d forgone his own.
He could deny it all he wanted, but he was about the sweetest man on the face of the earth.
Snaking a hand down his shoulder, Vanity reveled in his strength, how her touch caused him to skip a beat in the middle of the devouring kiss—then to ramp it up tenfold with a deep groan of encouragement.
His abs were a thing of beauty, and when she slipped her hand up under his shirt to touch his hot, taut skin, he freed his mouth. His forehead to hers, he breathed heavily—and waited.
“I love your body,” Vanity whispered, touching him all over, reaching around to his back, to the granite muscles there, the hot, sleek skin. Gliding her palm back to his chest, she dragged her fingers through the chest hair there, then followed the happy trail down to the front of his jeans.
Using only one finger, she traced his erection beneath the denim. His breathing stilled; his cock did not. She felt him pulsing, flexing as she wrapped her fingers around him as much as she could, stroking through the stiff material.
In a sudden rush he brushed her hand away, opened the snap of his jeans, lowered the zipper and shoved the jeans halfway down his hips, freeing himself. He lifted her hand and, looking into her eyes, kissed her palm, then wrapped her hand around him again, this time flesh to flesh.
Hands on her hips, she watched Maggie and Norwood chase after a bird, then bark at a squirrel. Together they ran the perimeter of the yard, then tussled like happy children.
“Remarkable.”
“Armie said he worked with them a little while you napped.”
“Armie, too, is remarkable.”
That made him frown—and almost made her grin.
“Armie also bought them some treats. I should have thought of that myself—” he sent her a scalding look “—but I was too busy trying to get you naked.”
Wondering how soon they could get to it, Vanity bit her bottom lip and nodded.
Standing in the open doorway to the yard, Stack slowly looked her over. “Speaking of naked, you aren’t wearing a bra.”
“No.”
“Where’d you get the shirt?”
So he had been wondering. Nervous, anxious fingers twisted in the hem. “Cannon gave it to me.”
That seemed to appease him. “Looks good on you.” Turning, he whistled to the dogs, and once he had their attention, he knelt down and offered the big chew toys.
Norwood got his first. Eyes big with gluttony, he carried it over to a tree and hunkered down to enjoy it.
Maggie sniffed hers excitedly, then with delicate care, closed her teeth around it and joined Norwood.
“That ought to keep them busy.”
Yes, she wanted uninterrupted time with Stack, but she refused to put the dogs at risk. “Is it safe?”
“Armie said he checked your fence. It’s all good. And trust me, if they want back in, they’ll let us know.”
Ridiculous shyness came over her. “We’re finally going to do this?”
Stepping in and quietly closing the door, Stack watched her. “You tell me.”
“What?” He didn’t sound all that anxious.
Snagging her hand, he pulled her in close and feathered a kiss over the bridge of her nose, the top of her cheek, her jaw. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever.” One hand opened over her back, urging her closer. “But if you think you need more time, I’ll deal with it.”
Such a remarkable offer. “You are the sweetest man.”
Squeezing her in close, he put a tickling, growling bite to that sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.
Vanity wanted to both melt and giggle. “Stack.”
“I’m not sweet, I’m horny.” He cupped her face. “So what’s the verdict?”
“It sure isn’t waiting.” She pushed out of his arms, grabbed his hand and practically hauled him down the hallway. Laughing behind her, Stack allowed himself to be led.
Right before they reached her bedroom, he took the lead, drew her into the room and closed the door with her up against it. Pressing his body to hers, he took her mouth, all soft and gentle—for about three seconds. Angling his head for a better fit, he licked her bottom lip, then stroked his way inside, playing with her tongue, exploring, getting her hotter by the second.
She clung to his shoulders and felt the rising tension in him as the kiss went deeper, wetter, more possessive. He needed this worse than she did—and that was saying a lot, given how badly she wanted him. But where he’d ensured her pleasure, twice, he’d forgone his own.
He could deny it all he wanted, but he was about the sweetest man on the face of the earth.
Snaking a hand down his shoulder, Vanity reveled in his strength, how her touch caused him to skip a beat in the middle of the devouring kiss—then to ramp it up tenfold with a deep groan of encouragement.
His abs were a thing of beauty, and when she slipped her hand up under his shirt to touch his hot, taut skin, he freed his mouth. His forehead to hers, he breathed heavily—and waited.
“I love your body,” Vanity whispered, touching him all over, reaching around to his back, to the granite muscles there, the hot, sleek skin. Gliding her palm back to his chest, she dragged her fingers through the chest hair there, then followed the happy trail down to the front of his jeans.
Using only one finger, she traced his erection beneath the denim. His breathing stilled; his cock did not. She felt him pulsing, flexing as she wrapped her fingers around him as much as she could, stroking through the stiff material.
In a sudden rush he brushed her hand away, opened the snap of his jeans, lowered the zipper and shoved the jeans halfway down his hips, freeing himself. He lifted her hand and, looking into her eyes, kissed her palm, then wrapped her hand around him again, this time flesh to flesh.
