Holly Jolly Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #7)(50)
Holly seemed to realize it at the same time he did. “Oh,” she breathed, her hands sliding to his shoulders. “Adam, I should get up.”
“I kinda like you where you are,” he murmured, his hand stroking up and down her back. “Just don’t let me bump that leg of yours. In fact, I should probably get up and get you some cream for it.”
“I kinda like you where you are,” Holly retorted, wiggling on his lap. She moved in just a little closer, her mouth hovering near his. “Though you’re probably hungry.”
“Ravenous,” he agreed, and leaned in to kiss her lightly. “Utterly, completely, ravenous.” He punctuated each word with a kiss. “Starving.”
Holly made a soft noise in her throat, her hands sliding to his thick flannel shirt. To his surprise, she slipped her fingers underneath the material, grazing his skin. “I want to touch you tonight,” she told him between hot, fierce kisses. Her mouth pressed against his with ferocious need. “Or is that too much to ask of my enemy?”
He groaned, cupping her face in his hands. She felt so dainty against him, her jaw small and fragile as he cradled it with his much larger palms. “Only if I get to touch you. I’ll avoid the leg, though.” He nipped at her lower lip. “Promise.”
“I know you will.” She flicked her tongue lightly against his open mouth in a flirty gesture. “You’ll make me feel good. You always do.”
It made him want to puff up with pride, that simple statement. It also made him want to please her even more. He pulled the bow free from her hair—the silly Christmas bow she loved to wear as she waitressed—and then pulled her ponytail free. Her thick, dark hair shook loose, falling about her shoulders in a cascade he longed to touch. He buried his hands there as he kissed her again, claiming her mouth with a hot, deep stroke of his tongue.
Holly moaned, her fingers moving to the buttons of his shirt. “Off. I want this off you. I want to touch you all over.”
Oh damn, he wanted that, too. He leaned back, tearing at his own clothing, ripping it over his head and tossing it aside until he was shirtless before her. Holly’s gaze locked onto his chest, and she let out a fascinated breath as she placed a palm over one pectoral. “You’re not smooth,” she told him. “Why did I think you’d be smooth?”
“Dunno. You don’t like chest hair?” He had a fair amount across his pectorals and trailing down to his navel, but he’d never given it much thought.
“I like it,” she confessed, skimming her fingers over his skin. “I like it a lot. It’s just surprising to me.”
He grunted, half wondering if her mental images of him were of some scrawny, hairless boy instead of the real him. “Sorry, not going to shave my chest.”
She giggled. “I don’t expect you to. Can’t I comment on your chest hair without you getting all prickly on me?”
“Guess not.”
Holly twisted her fingers against a bit of that chest hair and smirked up at him. “Wuss.”
“Please.” He grabbed the hem of her shirt. “You know what this means. I need to check you for chest hair now.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You think I have chest hair?”
“I won’t know unless I see, will I?” He waggled his brows at her and nudged at the shirt, giving her plenty of opportunity to stop him. Instead, she took the hem from his hands and pulled the entire thing over her head on her own, sitting up straight and proud in his lap. She was utterly beautiful, too. He knew how she was built because she liked to wear tight sweaters when she waitressed, showing off all her curves, but seeing her in only a bra and panties was different somehow. She was softer, curvier, sexier. Her breasts heaved with excited breaths as she watched him, as if she knew just how good she looked and was waiting for a compliment.
The sight of her had taken his breath away, though, and had snatched all his words with it. Reverently, Adam slid his hand over her pale stomach. It wasn’t completely flat, with just a hint of roundness to it, showing that she was soft all over. It was a look he decided he liked. No, he loved. He loved that glorious feminine softness to her body, and how she knew how beautiful she looked. “Definitely no chest hair.”
She leaned in, stroking the back of his neck in that teasing way he loved. “Should you look closer? Just to check?”
Well now, how could he resist that? “My eyes aren’t so good. I should probably use my hands just to be certain.”
Her eyes widened, and then a smile curved her lips. She arched her back, subtly daring him.
Damn, but he liked this woman. He never thought having an enemy would be so . . . enticing. Adam eased one of the straps down her shoulder as she rubbed her hand against his chest. Her breathing sped up as he peeled the cup of her bra away, exposing one creamy breast with a pale pink nipple.
Gorgeous.
Reverently, he stroked the delicate skin, the creamy swell of her cleavage. He slid his thumb along the curve of her breast, heading for the tip, and then circled the nipple with light, airy touches.
Holly moaned, moving forward and pressing her brow to his. “Adam.”
“Everything feels good here,” he said in a soft voice, cupping her breast. “Feels perfect. You’re gorgeous, Holly. Just gorgeous.” He brushed his nose against hers, then gave her another teasing kiss. “Makes me want to taste you everywhere.”