The Christmas Cowboy Hero by Donna Grant

Author:Donna Grant [Grant, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Desire raged, and need consumed her. Abby couldn’t catch her breath, but she didn’t care. The feel of Clayton’s hands and mouth on her felt too good.

The sensations rushing through her halted all thought, making her feel each swipe of his tongue and caress of his calloused hands. The awareness of his touch and his breathing was incredible.

How had she forgotten desire and passion? The sizzling, inconceivable tightening low in her belly as her need mounted so quickly, she was already on the verge of an orgasm—and he’d only touched her breasts.

With quick fingers, he unbuttoned and lowered the zipper of her jeans. The air that brushed against her hot skin made her suck in her stomach. She began to tremble, but not from the cool breeze. No, it had everything to do with Clayton’s hand splayed across her stomach and his fingers inching lower to her sex.

Her breath locked in her lungs when his hand slipped beneath the waist of her panties and moved lower. When he cupped her, she jerked, the air rushing past her lips as she moaned.

“My God,” he murmured huskily and sucked harder on her nipple.

Then, suddenly, Clayton was gone. Abby forced her eyes open while trying to control the tide of desire that bombarded her. It wasn’t until he took her foot in hand and unzipped her boot that she realized what he was doing.

While he removed her footwear, she began to push her jeans over her hips and kick them off, along with her panties. Then, she was on her knees, helping him yank off his cowboy boots. Her fingers wouldn’t work right as she fumbled, trying to unbutton his jeans. It took him helping her before they finally knelt naked in the sunlight.

She had run her hands over his chiseled chest earlier, taking in the hard sinew and rigid planes. Now, she let herself see him—his tattoos and all the scars from his battles.

Her palms had found many of the scars before. Some were small, some large and jagged. She couldn’t imagine the pain he’d suffered with each of them. Yet it wasn’t what defined him. He didn’t allow it.

She glided her fingers across the tribal tattoo that ran over his left shoulder and down his forearm as well as across part of his chest. An oval scar marred the ink slightly. A bullet wound that had been so close to his heart.

Her head tilted to look down. She bit her lip when she glimpsed his arousal jutting between them, thick and hard. Even more scars were on his thighs. It just proved that he didn’t hesitate to do what had to be done, even if it meant putting his life on the line.

When she raised her gaze to his face, it was to find his lips gently curved while he looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in all the world.

It made her heart skip a beat.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said as he slowly ran his hands up her arms, touching her reverently.

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