Redwood Bend (Virgin River #18)(25)

“That’s on the cusp,” she said. “Close, but no cigar.”

“Jesus,” he said, running a hand over his head. “You’re tough! What’s a date to you, anyway? It’s not like there are fancy places to go dancing around here.”

She was shaking her head. “I can’t remember when I last danced anyway.”

“What is it you’re looking for? Want to cut me in on the secret?”

She shrugged. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

He stared at her for a moment. He liked that smile; he liked that she was an uppity, self-confident little witch. One corner of his mouth lifted, then he slid his hand around the back of her neck and deftly lowered her to the ground. He hovered over her and concentrated on those large eyes for a second before he leaned in to her plump, delicious mouth. He teased, a little kiss, a little nibble, a lick, waiting for her to let him know she was interested in more. And it didn’t take long, either. She slipped her hands around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers, lowering her lids and opening her mouth for him immediately.

She made a low sound in her throat and he groaned. Their tongues tangled together; he threaded his fingers into her wild hair. He was drowning in her and let his lips slip from hers to her neck with a whispered exclamation. “God, you taste good.” And he kissed her neck, her collarbone, her jaw, her ear, then went back to her mouth for more, licking her open and devouring her. He hadn’t planned this part, but it came to him that he needed her and he was glad it had. Of the hundred or so women he’d kissed, this one was somehow different. As he moved over her mouth, he thought of her as belonging to him. This kind of thought had never happened before; he’d always focused on “this is for now.”

He didn’t want to let her go.

And she didn’t want him to, that was obvious. As he fell onto his side, pulling her against him, she embraced him and stroked his back, his neck, his arms, holding him close. He kissed her for a minute, two minutes, three minutes. He broke from her mouth, but didn’t let her go. “Whoa,” he whispered. He went back for more.

It had to happen. He was aroused and wanted a lot more from her, but resisted the temptation. He did consider how sweet it could be, in the soft grass, under the warm sun… If being inside her mouth felt this good, he couldn’t imagine the thrill of getting inside her body.

She tilted her pelvis against him; now she knew. She didn’t seem to mind, either. He ran a hand down her spine to her little butt and fanned his fingers, pulling her more firmly against him, pressing into her. Yeah. Bliss. He could start with the buttons on her blouse and in less than ten minutes, which was a very unhurried projection, he could turn bliss into rapture.

He lifted his head. “Is this a date?”

She shook her head. “This is making out,” she whispered back. “Very good making out, I admit.”

“How much food do I have to buy you to qualify for a date?” he asked. And she only giggled and pulled his mouth back to hers.

After a few more minutes of awesome kissing, he relaxed the hand against her perfect ass and pulled reluctantly away from her mouth. “Let’s get undressed. A little undressed, at least. Enough undressed…”

“Enough undressed for what?” she asked him, aiming her lips toward his for more.

“I want you,” he said. “Really, really want you. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while…”

“Hmm. While that just sweeps me away, I’m not prepared.”

“I’m prepared. I have protection,” he said.

“No, Dylan—I’m not prepared to get that involved with you.”

“Why not?”

“Besides the fact that you’re leaving in two days?” she asked him.

“Okay. I’ll stay the rest of the week…”

She laughed lightly. “If it matters, it is very hard to say no to you. You have fantastic lips…and stuff.”

He groaned in misery. “Katie, I’m hard as a hammer here…”

“I know,” she said. “It’s very nice. I’m sure if I were ready, it would do the trick.”

He rolled onto his back, lacing his fingers behind his head. He closed his eyes and said nothing, but his lips were tight.

“Maybe we should just go,” she suggested.

“I can’t go yet,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.

“Because…?”

“Because I’m sporting a rod,” he said.

She shook her head and tsked. “Wow, you remind me more of Charlie all the time. But don’t misunderstand, that’s not why I like you.” She flopped down beside him, lying on her back. “We’ll wait till you’re ready.”

“I’d like it better if we could get you ready,” he grumbled.

“Remind me to hold back on the making out next time. I think it makes you a little cranky.”

“Seriously,” he admitted. “Give me a little time. I’ll be fine.”

So she lay quietly beside him.

It wasn’t hard to relax, even though she had as much frustration as he. But the day was so perfect—the sun was warm, the grass soft beneath her, the cooling breeze just right. It was a perfect time to think about a few things—like was she among the first to tell the once famous Dylan Childress no? The fact was, “yes” had been on her lips. Oh, she wanted him right back. She hadn’t wanted that much or been that ready in more than five years. But she’d been through a lot and didn’t feel like piling regret on top of it all. She didn’t feel like being the girl he could turn and walk away from without a thought.