Handling the Rancher by Sara Ohlin

Author:Sara Ohlin [Ohlin, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
Published: 2019-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Sun poured in through the two glass doors leading from the bedroom to a deck and danced over the bed. She was covered with a sheet, alone in Cruz’s room. She turned over onto her side to face the spot where he had slept next to her in the king-sized bed. She pulled his pillow towards her to breathe in the leftover scent of his masculinity.

Last night unfolded in her mind and she hid her smile in the pillow. They had made love until both their bodies were delightfully sore.

And finally, when she’d begun to drift into sleep, he’d curled his body around hers and they’d slept entwined, unable to break the connection that touching each other gave them.

Miranda had never had a night like it. She hadn’t even known her body could do some of the things they’d done, that she could feel the amazing sensations Cruz had sent through her over and over again. She still tingled in places that had never been touched in her life. And she blushed when she thought of the effect she’d had on him. They would barely be rested when Cruz would be on fire again, tasting her, claiming her. And she had matched his desire and arousal. She wanted him even now.

Her body ached with pleasure, but something else inside of her felt heavy. Was it regret? No, she thought and smiled again. I will never regret this as long as I live. The growing emotions scared her with their strength, and even though she had never truly felt it before, some instinctual knowledge spoke to her. It was love.

She had fallen in love with him. And although last night had pushed her over the edge, her feelings for him had started earlier, perhaps when she’d seen him with the calves, or possibly that first day when he’d wiped that tear from her cheek.

Now what are you going to do? Her mind questioned as she came more fully awake. “I have no idea,” she spoke aloud.

“Talking to yourself?”

Miranda turned at the sound of Cruz’s voice. “Hi,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. He was carrying a tray and he came towards her with nothing on except pajama bottoms hanging very low on his very sexy hips. Her eyes filled with the sight of him in the daylight, his taut muscles, strong arms and those hands. His hands made her body feel amazing.

“What were you saying? You seemed deep in conversation with yourself.”

She rose and, pulling the sheet with her, leaned back against the pillows. “Oh, nothing.” She wasn’t about to tell him what she’d been discussing with her conscience. “What are you doing?”

He sat down on the bed next to her and pulled the tray with him. “Making you breakfast. There’s something about watching you eat, Miranda.” He looked like a pirate this morning, with a sly dimple in his grin. “Coffee?” He handed her a cup.

“Mmm,” she said. “This smells wonderful. You cook?”

“Don’t look so surprised.” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

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