Outrider by Colleen French

Author:Colleen French [French, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Evan Marshall Agency
Published: 2019-02-04T05:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

Mercy sighed as the feel of his lips on her earlobe sent tiny tremors of excitement through her body. His hand, a warm, firm presence on her breast, made her shift toward him, closer, yearning for a more intimate touch.

He kissed her throat and the arc of skin above the lace edging of her nightgown. Mercy slid her hand over his, encouraging his caress. Her nipples hardened and brushed against the abrasive fabric of her wispy-thin nightgown that had been soft only a moment ago.

She felt his mouth against hers as he cupped her breast and his thumb rubbed her budding nipple. She parted her lips, slowly awakening, not wanting to. She didn't want the delicious dream to end, not yet. She didn't want to let Noah slip away again in the darkness of the lonely night.

She whispered his name.

His tongue slipped between her lips and she tasted him.

She marveled at how vivid her dreams were becoming. She was nearly awake, and yet she could still feel his touch. She could still smell his skin and the lingering scent of shaving soap that mingled with the scents of saddle leather and manliness exclusive to him. She could even taste his mouth on hers.

His kiss deepened and she wrapped her arms around him, bringing him closer. She felt the edge of the quilt lift, the sting of cool air as he slipped beneath the blanket. As he moved in beside her the seamed fabric of his denim Levi's rubbed against her exposed legs.

"Noah," she whispered again, as if beckoning him could keep him with her longer. "Noah."

"Mercy," he answered. "My sweet Mercy, my angel. Sweet Mercy mine."

She was getting good at creating these dreams. It was the first time she had heard him speak in her sleep.

She felt the mattress shift as he turned to face her. She rolled toward him, eyes still closed. It was awfully realistic . . .

Too realistic

Mercy opened her eyes. "Oh," she whispered. She found herself nose to nose with Noah. It wasn't a dream. He was here, in her bed, under her quilt, his hand on her breast. "Noah?"

He pushed up on one elbow. Even in the darkness, she could see the hesitant smile on his face. "Expecting someone else?"

She blinked. "No, I just . . ." She felt silly. Shaky. "I thought . . ." She lifted her hand from his bare shoulder and brushed back her hair. She couldn't think. She couldn't talk sensibly. He entire body was awake now, pulsing. She wanted him. There was no mistaking her desire for him, not with the shameless aching heat between her thighs.

"I thought I was dreaming," she confessed softly, still surprised he was actually there.

He kissed the backs of her hands, still crossed over her chest. As she moved them, he kissed the swell of her breast. Even through the fabric of her gown, she could feel the heat of his mouth. "You've dreamed about me before?"

"Mmm hmm," she whispered, feeling shy.

"Me, too." He slid up in her bed rising directly over her.

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