The Bachelor's Baby (Bachelor Auction Book 3)(18)

“I think it’s fairly obvious I wasn’t holding anything back, isn’t it?” she grumbled, cheeks hot and nose burrowing into the sheets. The covers smelled like laundry soap and him. Maybe a bit of them together. It was potent and sexy.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” he said, closing his arms tighter as he rolled into her and used his leg to pull her half under him. “If I’m the only man who’s ever seen you really let go in bed, then I’m counting myself lucky as hell. You’re incredible, Meg.” His lips grazed her shoulder, leaving a tickling, hot brand.

“So are you,” she said, nuzzling into his scent, stroking his flat hip with her palm. “But is this the real you?” She tilted her head back to look at him.

“What you see is what you get,” he said without dissemblance. “A man of simple needs.”

“And not one for commitment,” she stated, more to remind herself because a part of her was opening up to this man who seemed to accept her exactly as she was. “Did someone break your heart a long time ago?”

“I had a few bruises in the early years,” he allowed. “But I guess I haven’t met anyone who inspired me to commit.”

Ow.

She dropped her gaze.

“Meg,” he admonished in a murmur.

“I’m not—I realize this is just this. I don’t expect you to want to commit to me.” She was glad her tone stayed steady when she was actually rather stung at being lumped in with the rest of his short-term lovers. “I’m just saying, maybe if you dated a woman for real, instead of bringing her home for sex right off the bat.” Her fingertips moved without her thinking, smoothing those chest hairs into a neat pattern.

“I’ve committed to this ranch and you don’t live here,” he reminded her. “The point is moot.”

She scowled at his breastbone, then let out a sigh of defeat.

“This is what I’m talking about,” she groused, forcing herself to embrace the closeness of the moment rather than dwell on the distance between them to come. “Do I feel rejections extra hard because I have female hormones? Is it my nature? Is it because I was put up for adoption before I had a proper attachment to my birth mother?” Rubbing her cheek sulkily against the pillow bunched under her head by his biceps, she added, “And now I’ve shown you what a head case I really am, of course you don’t want anything to do with me. Are you laughing?”

“No,” Linc said, sounding sincere, but amused. “I like that you’re being honest, even though you’re making me feel guilty. I didn’t mean for what I said to sound like a rejection. I just don’t see a future, under the circumstances.”

“No,” she agreed unhappily. “You’re right. There’s not.” So there was no reason he should feel inspired to commit.

Even if she was thinking, I wish he did. It was so silly! She didn’t even know him.

He drew in a breath and let it ease out. His arm grew heavier on her.

She nudged herself into him. “Don’t fall asleep. If I miss my flight, Blake will never let me hear the end of it.”

He rolled away and picked up his phone, starting to set the alarm.

“You want me to sleep here?” It was a pathetic consolation prize, but made her feel sweet and special all the same.

“Would you rather I drove you home right now?”

“No, this is nice.” She hadn’t had free rein over a man’s body in a long while and couldn’t remember a time when she’d curry-combed her palms over such a fine one. “You’re really muscle-y. And you smell good.” A faint hint of soap along with light sweat and sawdust and fire smoke.

“You don’t color your hair,” he said as he set aside his phone and smoothed her hair away from her cheek. His eyelids were heavy as he admired her. “I like that.”

“How—? Oh.” A blush hit her as she recalled how thoroughly he’d gotten to know her. Her loins tingled, growing hot and wet, making her rub her legs restlessly against his hairy ones. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Turn me on with just a comment. An observation, not even a compliment.”

He grinned. “What happens if I do compliment you? Because I think you’re very pretty, Meg. Your legs don’t quit, your breasts are perfect—” He lightly palmed one for emphasis, “—and you’ve got exactly the right amount of sass.”

“Did you say ‘sass’ or…?” She glared a warning look through her lashes.

“The right amount of sass and ass,” he assured her, rolling her beneath him.

She ran her fingers into his short hair and arched, caressing him with her nude body, feeling the thickening of his erection between them and smiling. “I’m thinking complimenting me turns you on. Better keep at it.”

He did, saying sweet, outrageous, dirty-ish things while kissing and teasing and caressing. This time, they dawdled about getting to where they were going, prolonging the pleasure, but the end game was the same. Both of them let ragged cries fill the room while they shattered in release.

*

Linc didn’t consider himself a particularly deep man. He saw what needed to be done and did it. Sometimes choices were hard, but there was usually a smart choice and that was the one he always tried to pick. He didn’t agonize or get emotional. He didn’t wonder whether his dad dying when he was a kid had had any lasting effect on him.