Give Me Tonight(84)

"Oh! No, we can't." She laughed and pushed at his chest. "Not now. Not here—"

"Give me a good reason."

"They're going to know exactly what we've been doing." Her pulse pounded madly as he straddled her 'and pulled up her skirts. "There'll be hay in my hair and on my clothes and—"

"We'll take care of it later. Every speck."

"Impossible." A disbelieving chuckle escaped her.

"You're not really planning to . . . are you . . ." Her voice died away as he reached underneath her under­wear to the bare skin of her stomach, stroking with the backs of his knuckles. "Ben," she said, and he smiled as he saw how fast her breathing was. Slowly he peeled her drawers down her thighs.

"It's a struggle, isn't it?" he asked, bending over her, his fingers trailing over her abdomen. "Your sense of propriety against your desire for this. . . " His hand slipped down a little further, and she wet her dry lips with her tongue, her toes curling in anticipation.

"I just don't want anyone to s-see—"

"Oh, but that's half the fun." He rested his chin in his hand, watching her as he found the place he had been seeking. His whisper was husky, containing that vibrant note that never failed to fluster her. "It makes you all tight inside, doesn't it, wondering if someone will catch us at the worst possible moment, wondering if someone will see you spread out here with your drawers pulled halfway down to your knees. What would you say? What would you do?"

"I'd d-die of embarrassment," she gasped, trying to wiggle away. He pounced on her, pinning her down and caressing her more boldly than before.

"Yes, you're going to die a little, but it won't be from embarrassment."

"We don't have time—"

"We don't need much."

"It'll be safer later after everyone's asleep—"

"The risk makes it more exciting."

She caught her breath as his fingers splayed through the thatch of springy hair between her thighs, sending a shock of awareness through her.

"No. "

"No? Then tell me to stop," he purred, stroking the inside of her thigh. "Tell me not to touch you, especially not here . . . or here . . . and tell me to let you up and take you back inside the house."

Closing her eyes, Addie tried to form the words with her lips, but her body was waiting for the ecstasy only he could give her. She couldn't tell him to stop.

"It adds to the pleasure, doesn't it," came his voice, soft and silky, "that feeling in your stomach—'hurry, do it now before we're caught'—and every second you're wondering if I'm going to stop . . ."

She protested and tried to rise, then fell back as his fingers found her and began moving ceaselessly. With a long moan she turned her face into his shoulder, silently begging him to not to stop. He seemed to know exactly what her body craved, circling and teasing her sensitive flesh with the pad of his thumb, plunging his fingers deep within her, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. All the while he murmured in her ear, deliber­ately earthy, saying things that aroused her even more.

". . . anyone could see us right now, Addie . . . someone could walk by . . . one of the hands on the way to the bunkhouse . . . what if you knew someone was watching? Would you tell me to stop then?" His stroking paused, as if his continuing depended on her answer.

"No," she groaned, lifting her hips, pressing his hand harder against her dampening flesh, and he re­sumed the excruciating torment.

"They're going to know what we're doing anyway," he whispered relentlessly. "I'm going to make you scream; and they'll all hear you."

"I won't," she choked, and his smile was merciless.

"You're afraid you will."

"No!"

And finally the pleasure was so intense that she did cry out, but he smothered the sound with his mouth, and in the aftershocks his tongue caught the throaty vibrations of her groaning. He kissed her for a long time, savoring her languid response. When she had recovered, she pulled free of his hands and mouth. Mortified by what had happened, she sat up and fum­bled to rearrange her clothing. Ben helped her, sup­pressing a smile as he saw how worried she was.

"H-how long have we been out here?" she asked, not looking at him.

"About ten minutes."

"Oh." Addie's distress lessened. It had seemed much longer to her. But she continued to frown, brushing helplessly at the wisps. of hay clinging to her dress until Ben lifted her chin with his fingers and smiled down at her.

"No one heard anything," he said flatly. "Or saw. I kept an eye open, just in case."

Addie blushed. "Then what you said . . .”

"All for your benefit. "

She was too relieved by his answer to scold him for his arrogance. "I wasn't loud?" she asked, and he pulled her close, bewitched by her curious mixture of modesty and abandon.

"I kept you very quiet," he whispered conspire-atorially, and her shoulders sagged.

"I should be mad at you."

"For what? Didn't it feel good?"

"I . . . Yes, it felt . . . But that's not the point."