Enough foreplay.
He whispered, “Let’s go,” and towed her off the dance floor. As he helped her with her coat, she said, “I need to say good-bye to my friends.”
“They’re gone. Their husbands showed up right after I did and took them home. Tobin and Fletch promised to handle getting your wild Mud Lilies pals home.”
Kyle pulled her behind him, trying to block the wind. They skirted the edge of the building that faced the back of a hill. He spun her around and pressed her into the metal siding. “You ever been f**ked hard and fast up against a honky-tonk?”
She shook her head.
“Take off your panties.”
Celia held on to his arm as she slipped them off.
He shoved them in his pocket and crowded her against the building. Watching her liquid silver eyes, he reached beneath her skirt and could feel the heat pouring from her sex. His fingers inched up her inner thigh and delved into her pu**y, finding her warm, slick, and ready. He damn near howled that he’d primed Celia’s body to this point without touching her.
She whimpered a soft, “Please.”
He sealed his mouth to hers as he moved his fingers in and out. Then he unbuckled, unzipped, and dropped his jeans before breaking the kiss to urge, “Jump up and lock your ankles around my waist.” Latching onto her tight buns, he hoisted her against the building. He was shaking, but not from the cold. “Reach between us and guide me in, baby.”
Her cool fingers brushed his balls, then circled his shaft.
The instant his cockhead touched her molten core, he canted his hips and plunged into her.
“Yes. Do it again.”
He withdrew fully and slammed into her fully.
“Don’t stop. Hard and fast like that.”
He didn’t pause to catch his breath. He just f**ked her steadily. Pulling her body to meet his demanding thrusts. He went up on his toes to f**k her deeper.
Despite the frigid air, sweat gathered on his brow. Sweat also trickled down the crack of his ass and dampened his balls. He slammed into her, her wet heat easing each hard stroke.
Celia’s arms were around his neck, her short fingernails sunk into his scalp, the heels of her cowgirl boots digging into his ass. She panted, her breath indicating how close she was. “Kyle.”
“Hold on. I’m gonna tip you forward.”
As soon as he did that, she gasped. “Oh. Yes. Like that.”
“Squeeze me. Harder.” He rested his forehead on her shoulder and jackhammered into her. Near to that tipping point himself, he gritted his teeth and hoped he could hold on because it felt too f**king good to stop.
She stiffened, her grip on his head increased and she arched back, a sexy wail drifting from her mouth.
The clenching of her cunt around his shaft set him off. He shoved deep and stayed there, managing a hoarse grunt as her body milked his c**k until he had not a drop of seed left.
A cold breeze and tickling fingers between his balls roused him. He jumped when he realized it wasn’t soft fingers caressing him but the fringe from her skirt flapping in the breeze. He chuckled.
“What?”
“I told you I’d make that fringe move tonight.”
Celia drummed his buns with her boot heels. “Smart-ass.”
Kyle kissed her. He could’ve gone on kissing her, if not for the fact she was shivering. “Sorry,” he murmured. “Whenever I get a taste of this sinful mouth of yours, I don’t wanna stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop either, but I’m literally freezing my ass off.”
“Hang on.” Kyle pulled out and paused for a second before putting her feet back on the ground. He attempted to straighten her skirt before quickly redressing. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Kyle frowned. “No.”
“My panties are in your pocket. Give ’em back.”
“Nope. They’re mine. Besides you’d just be taking them off again in a little while, so I thought I’d save you the trouble.” He tugged her coat around her and tied the belt.
“So thoughtful.”
He pecked her on the mouth. “I try. Come on, let’s go home.”
Chapter Twelve
The carpet layers arrived early.
Celia knew it was silly to be nervous, but she’d never picked out carpet before. Kyle hadn’t cared—or so he’d claimed—but she really didn’t want him to hate it.
Rather than stand around the house and wring her hands because Kyle insisted on doing the cattle check himself, she headed to the horse pasture.
Mickey had designated himself king of her horse pack. Her other horses, Minnie, Coco, and Lazarus were used to Mickey. But Marshall’s horses, Bugsy, Capone, Scout, and Pixie were used to Capone being head horse. There was bound to be jockeying for position at feeding time, so she’d separated them. Better to let them get acquainted over the fence line first.
Although the day was bitterly cold, the sun shone brilliantly and not a breath of wind stirred. Celia bundled up—not her favorite thing to be so immobile atop a horse—but the weather demanded it. She saddled Coco and kicked her into a trot. She could spend hours on horseback checking out the lay of the land if there weren’t so many other things that needed done. She could spend the next two years getting the place up to snuff.
Too bad you don’t have that long.
It seemed her subconscious had taken to warning her of the six-month rule whenever she considered breaking it. Which happened all the freakin’ time since she’d finally admitted to herself she was in love with Kyle. She just didn’t know what the hell to do about it.