A Moment in Time (35 page)

      
And so would she.

Chapter 12

      
With a groan, he claimed her mouth, and a torrent of yearning seized her.

      
Her response and redirection were astonishing, considering how confused she'd been only a moment ago.
 
His lips were blistering yet pleasing.
 
Velvet yet strong.
 
Tender yet wild.

      
And exactly what she needed right now.
 
Glorying in the power of his kiss, she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, returning his kiss with equal fervor.
 
He was hers.

      
For tonight.
      

      
He hauled her in closer and the heat of his desire scorched her through the worn fabric of her
Little Women
dress.
 
Her shawl fell open, no longer needed as a new and insistent warmth took control.

      
She whimpered–an alien sound Jackie was certain she'd never made before–a faint echo of the low growl that rumbled through him.
 

      
All the "I am Woman, Hear Me Roar" lessons her mother had shared during those early years fell aside like ashes in the wind.
 
Jackie's senses emerged screaming from the dark place where she'd hidden them, unveiling her mind and soul and–God help her–her heart.
 
Just when she thought she was safe–that her caring torpedoes had done their job at last and that she had all this in perfect perspective–hormonal hell broke loose.

      
He ravished and claimed, and she imagined herself standing on a rocky, mist-shrouded cliff in Scotland, overlooking a stormy sea.
 
A castle loomed in the distance, a ship on the horizon, and she was a damsel in distress being rescued by her handsome and oh-so-virile knight in shining armor.
 
Or maybe a kilt.

      
She was, simply, losing it.

      
He fueled her senses with his unique musky man scent.
 
No Ralph Lauren Polo for this guy.
 
The coarse grain of his stubbled chin abraded her face, but she didn't care.
 
She only feared that he might stop, leaving her breathless and empty and alone again.

      
His arms were like steel around her and he lifted her upward, tugging her hard against his full, magnificent length.
 
His mouth never left hers as another beastly rumble left him and filled her with an unbearable ache.
 
She'd never known such longing.
 
Such need.

      
Jackie Clarke had met her match in Cole Morrison.
 
He was too much man for her to control with her feminine wiles, such as they were.
 
He was infinitely more dangerous than any con artist could ever be....

      
Because he was real.
 
Vulnerable.
 
Honest.

      
And because she loved him with all her heart.

      
It didn't help matters that he was the sexiest hunk of male flesh she'd ever encountered or hoped to encounter again in any century.
 
He provoked within her a starving demand that exceeded any tangible, logical need she'd ever known.
 
She would drop dead on the spot if he stopped.
 
Even more terrifying–without him, she feared she would never be whole again.

      
He wove his fingers through her hair and tilted his head, his mouth insatiable, granting and demanding more with every desperate breath they shared.
 
She slumped against him, incapable of supporting her own weight, her legs disintegrating beneath her like the Wicked Witch of the West after the proverbial bucket of water.
 

      
Yes, she was melting, melting–her body into his.
 
Her breasts swelled and flowed against the hard planes and muscles of his chest, throbbing from the gentle massage of her clothing, the rough texture of his shirt.
 
Her nipples thrust forward, hardening, dragging a muffled sob of need from her throat.

      
He stopped, tearing his mouth from hers, observing her with gleaming, feral, passion-lit eyes.
 
Their mutual raspy panting reverberated like thunder in the moonlight.
 
She curled her fingers into his shirt, her grasp fierce.
 
He wouldn't end this here.
 
She couldn't bear it.
 
She'd rather die.
 
Tonight was all she had....

      
"Love me, Cole," she whispered.
 
"Just for tonight."

      
Then, suddenly, their mouths fused together again,
 
breaths, longing, need merging, uniting as one.
 
She clutched him to her frantically and his fingers tangled through her hair, increasing the insistence of his kiss, urging her to open to him.

      
She parted her lips, inviting his thrusting, seeking tongue into the warmth of her mouth.
 
Renewed longing ricocheted through her body, tightening every muscle like a ponytail holder about to snap.

      
A groan reverberated through him, feeding her, driving her mad with the wanting.
 
She echoed the sound as he deepened the kiss.
 
His tongue slid over hers, surveying, raiding with sleek strokes that left her trembling.
 
She needed another part of his body inside her, mimicking these same movements.
 
She wanted to hold him fast and tight and deep.
 

      
Pretend this could last forever...

      
She savored the molten heat of his kiss.
 
Nothing else mattered but him holding her, kissing her, wanting her.
 
Nothing.
 
She wouldn't let anything else matter.

      
There was only this moment in time.
 
Only this night.
 
Only this man who held her as if his life depended on it.
 
Only this...

      
Persistent warmth gathered low in her belly, insisting that she see this through.
 
Tonight.

      
He dragged his mouth from hers and she gasped in protest.
 
"No, please," she whispered, trying to summon some of the teasing persona she'd portrayed so well earlier.
 
"We aren't finished yet, big guy."

      
"This will never be finished, because I can never have enough of you."
 
Voraciously, he blazed a trail of kisses down the side of her neck to the curve of her shoulder, easing his hand between their bodies to cup her breast.
 
She smiled, urging him to do more.
 
Much more.

      
Lowering his head, he covered her nipple with his lips.
 
The layers of fabric separating them seemed to melt away beneath the sudden heat of his mouth.
 
Her breath caught and her head rolled backward.
 
The clouds parted and she saw stars–both real and surreal.

      
Through her thin gown, he drew her nipple into his mouth.
 
A low, fierce tone tore from her.
 
He leaned her back against his strong arm, lifting her upward to meet his ravenous lips.
 

      
He held her fast with mouth and arms as he teased and tantalized her erect and sensitized nipples, soaking the fabric and brushing over it again and again.
 
A river of lust flowed through her.
 

      
"Cole," she whispered breathlessly, clutching him to her.
 
"I want you."

      
He released the buttons at the front of her dress, then shoved the layers of damp fabric aside, baring her to the cool night air and to his red hot kisses.
 

      
"I want you," he murmured, alternating between murmured words and hot, wet strokes of his tongue.
 
"You're so beautiful.
 
So perfect."

      
Jackie sobbed with longing as he drew her deeply into his mouth.
 
A shudder rippled through her and she pressed herself greedily against him.
 
"I need you now, Cole."
 
She could make love with him on the ground, if necessary.
 
Nothing mattered but having him.

      
All of him.

      
Wordlessly, he swept her into his arms and kicked open the paddock gate, allowing it to swing shut behind them.
 
He ducked as he entered the stable.
 
The scents of hay, horse, and leather surrounded them as he found his way through the darkness.
 
He eased Jackie to her feet and slipped the shawl from her shoulders, spreading it across a pile of clean straw in the corner.

      
Moonlight filled the small shelter, bathing Cole in silver.
 
Jackie's breath caught as she saw the eager expression in his eyes.
 
"I want you, Cole.
 
Now."

      
He put his arms on her shoulders and peered intently into her eyes.
 
"Be sure, because," he drew a ragged breath,
 
"I can't stand not having you another minute."

      
"Thank God."
 
She gave him a shaky smile and eased her open dress and chemise from her shoulders, allowing the garments to puddle at her feet.
 
His eyes widened and he reached for her.

      
"Patience."
 
She grinned more openly now and bit her lower lip, bending over to untie her hiking boots and kick them off.
 
She eased
 
her Scarlett O'Hara underwear over her hips and kicked them aside, so turned on it was a miracle she didn't fall on her face.
 
Holding her hands out to her sides, she said, "All right, I'm all yours, big guy."

      
He sucked in a breath.
 
"Do that again."

      
She laughed.
 
"Undress?"

      
"No, the bending over part."
 

      
She laughed and moved closer.
 
"Are you a butt man, Cole Morrison?"

      
"Butt man?"
 
He stroked her upper arms, sending rivulets of desire trickling through her.
 
"What's a butt man?"

      
"Uh, a man who likes a woman's butt best."
 
She released the buttons at the front of his shirt and eased her hands against the magnificent muscles of his chest.
 
"God, Cole, I want you so much I'm going crazy."