She laughed. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she looked into his face. “I have to go back to work, but thank you. Seriously, you made my day.”
“It was just a ride.”
She looked at him for another breath, and he wondered what she saw. “It was more for me. Thank you.” Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his jaw. “Thank you…” She pulled back only a fraction and shifted her aim so that now her lips touched his once, softly.
Sweetly.
“Thank you so much,” she whispered again as an unnamed raw emotion surged up from his chest so fast he got dizzy.
“I really needed that. The ride,” she defined. “Not the kiss.” She smiled. “Well, I needed both. Both were great, actually.”
She had this incredible way of slicing through all the unnecessary bullshit. She had a way of looking at him, as if she didn’t care about anything but this very moment-not his past, not his future, or lack of one. Nothing. It felt…good. Too good, and he needed another moment of it. Of her.
No regrets…“Goldilocks?”
“Yes?”
“I have a thank you too.”
“You do? For what?”
Reaching for one of her hands, he tugged her over his shoulder, pulling her onto his lap. Then he kissed her.
Not sweetly.
Not even close.
This time there was tongue, lots of tongue, and he was gone, diving headfirst into the hottest, deepest, wettest, most perfect kiss in recent memory.
Hell, most perfect kiss ever, in all the damn land.
He told himself that was because it’d been so long since he’d been with a woman, but the lingering doubt was enough to have him going still. He opened his eyes to look into hers, his thumbs gently brushing either side of her jaw as she let out a soft, sexy little sigh.
He knew just what she meant, and shoving all his reservations to the back of his brain under Not Important Now, he tugged her closer and kissed her again. He half expected her to stop him because he knew that she’d only meant that first sweet kiss as a quick thank you, but her hands were running over his chest, his shoulders, into his hair, then back to his chest, as if she couldn’t get enough either.
And then they slipped down to his belly.
Oh yeah, baby, go there.
Go as low as you want-
She broke off the kiss this time, mouth trembling and still wet from his, breath laboring in and out of her lungs as she stared at him.
He stared back, one hand in her hair, the other palming a sweet, full, warm breast.“I got a little carried away with that thank you,” she whispered, shuddering when his thumb rasped over her erect nipple. Then she seemed to suddenly notice where her hands were-fisted in the waistband of his pants-and she jerked them back, staring down at her front-row view of him straining against the button fly of his Levi’s. “Um.”
Yeah. Um. Much slower to retrieve his hands than she’d been, he took a deep, steadying breath because she wasn’t the only one reeling. “That might have been me who got carried away. Do I need to apologize?”
“No.” She lifted her shaking fingers to her mouth. “No. Was that…” Her face went a little pink. “I’m sorry. I need to know.”
He automatically tensed, but she just blushed a little more. “I was wondering, was that wow for you, because that was pretty wow for me, and I just-” Her hand fluttered in the air. “It’s been so long-I don’t know. Was it? For you?”
Her eyes were so clear, so deep he could see all the way into her heart, which was far, far, far too pure for him.
“Oh.” Her smile faded. “Gotcha.” She hopped off of him and quickly turned away. “Okay, well, thanks again for the ride-”
He caught her hand just in time. Tugging her back around to face him, he waited until she looked into his eyes.
Christ, she slayed him. Slayed him dead. “Katie.” His voice was a little thick, his heart hammering, and he was still a whole lot hard. “It was pretty damn wow.”
She hesitated, clearly not sure whether to believe him.
“A mind-staggering wow,” he clarified.
At that, her smile warmed again and absolutely stopped his poor, confused heart.
“I thought so.” And with that, she squeezed his hand and walked away, not asking him for anything more.
Or expecting it.
Chapter 8
After surviving the bridge collapse, Katie had divided her life into two compartments: pre-accident and post-accident.
But now she had new criteria in which to separate things: pre-snowmobile ride and post-snowmobile ride, which had been the time of her life. The sense of wild freedom, the speed, the wind in her face…
The utter lack of fear.
There’d been an initial terror, of course. Would they crash, hit a tree…die. But she’d learned something about herself during that blissful hour while holding on to Cam. It wasn’t death she feared at all.
It was pain.
But there’d been no pain. Nothing except a real joy and laughter.
And…and more.
Because it wasn’t just the ride she was thinking about but what had happened after, the feel of Cam’s warm, calloused hands gliding over her body, slipping beneath her jacket, caressing the small of her back, her breast…
And how even when they’d pulled back, he’d left his hands on her, almost as if he couldn’t stop touching her. She’d looked into his eyes and had known. She was going to get a whole bunch of adventure here at Wilder, and hopefully a lot more.