A Fallow Heart (Tommy Creek #2)(52)

Wishing he’d make a move, she suddenly realized why the term nice guys finish last was so typically true. With a total jerk, at least she knew whether he was or wasn’t interested in her. With a perfect gentleman like Cooper, however, he was too polite to press his suit. She figured he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or insult her in any way; he wouldn’t pressure her where he wasn’t completely sure she wanted to be pressured.

He cleared his throat. “See that beam sticking out up there with the cables on it?”

Confused by the question, she squinted through the dim night, focusing on what he’d pointed to above them, dangling from the outmost tip of the barn roof. “Yeah. What is that thing?”

“It’s an old horse-drawn track system, or in other words, an old-fashioned hay bale elevator. The track runs the length of the barn and to the back of the loft. And a wheel, called a trolley, would roll back and forth along those cables to move the bales. You’d lever four hooks into the hay bale and have a horse down on the ground draw the line forward, making the trolley move, and pulling the bale up off the ground into the loft.”

Jo Ellen glanced back into the dark recesses of the barn, envisioning the picture he described. She could see a lot of hard-working men, sweat streaming down their sunburned faces managing to get such a job done, one on the ground to hook the bale and another to lead the horse back and forth with two in the loft to catch and unhook. Sending a sideways grin to Cooper, she chuckled. “I didn’t realize I’d get a history lesson when I came up here.”

She could actually see him blush through the dark. He ducked his head. “Sorry, I—”

Bumping her shoulder against his, she interrupted, “Don’t be sorry. I enjoyed it.”

Biting her bottom lip as she watched his Adam’s apple bob while he stared up at the moon, she silently slid her hand over and covered his warm fingers. He didn’t say a word but looked down at their connection before he twisted his wrist around to press their palms flush against each other. Their digits naturally intertwined, and Jo Ellen let out a shuddered breath of relief.

“I think I could listen to you talk about farming all night.”

His gaze lifted to hers. Arousal swirled up from the pit of her stomach, filling her with tight, achy pressure.

Cooper swayed close. Jo Ellen lifted her chin and let her lips part slightly.

When his mouth brushed against hers, a jolt surged through her, slamming a vibrant energy across her skin. She’d never experienced such an awakening before. But suddenly, she felt very alive and very aware of how truly talented a kisser Cooper Gerhardt was.

He opened his mouth and she followed, meeting his tongue in the softest caress. When he groaned a low, masculine sound, the noise vibrated between her legs, titillating her. He reached for her, curling his hand around her nape to draw her closer. She followed the coaxing direction of his touch and scooted the last few inches to him. And his mouth didn’t once leave hers.

To brace herself, she grasped his shoulder, but as her fingers encountered the quivering play of taut muscle under her grip, she began to knead him through his shirt, wishing she had the courage to run her hands over the rest of him.

He broke the kiss and pulled back enough to study her face. His intense gaze flowed over her, searching for something, but she didn’t know what. She waited for him to say whatever was on his mind but he didn’t speak. When his attention drifted down to her mouth, she licked her lips and leaned closer. It must’ve been exactly what he’d been seeking because he crashed his mouth back to hers.

Whimpering out her need, she buried her fingers in his beautiful corn silk locks and clutched his head, afraid to touch him anywhere else in case she did something he didn’t like.

But he certainly seemed to like how she did touch him. With a groan, he clutched her waist and swung her from the entrance of the hayloft further inside where he could lay her down on the warm planks of the floor. Covering her with his large, hungry body, he hovered above her and rested his weight on his shins and forearms as he devoured her mouth, probing his tongue deeper until she arched up her hips, seeking more.

He gave in, settling his legs down to tangle them with hers. The hardness under his fly prodded her hip. She butted at it twice before she realized how provocative she was acting. But he didn’t seem to mind. He pressed more snugly against her and even let his heated palm wander down until it found the outside of one thigh.

His touch on her bare flesh made her gasp. As their mouths stayed fused, she willingly let him lever her knee up to cradle his hips, and oh God, he nudged the very center of her femininity, right through her clothes. She arched tighter against him. His hand worked back up the outside of her leg, sending tingles of arousal skating over her. Upon reaching the hem of her jean shorts, he paused.

Jo Ellen held her breath, waiting, anticipating. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she found herself shifting so the tips of his fingers disappeared into the gap between her shorts and leg.

He shuddered on top of her and followed her urging, moving again, letting his short fingernails barely scrape her flesh as he worked higher, higher—

He stopped dead when he encountered her panties.

Breaking his mouth from hers, he panted against her neck and rested his temple against her chin. “Jo Ellen.” His voice cracked on the desperate whisper. “Is this okay?”

Her eyes flared open. Okay? Couldn’t he tell it was better than okay? It was ecstasy. Heaven. She bobbed her head. “Yes, yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”