The Cowgirl's CEO by Pamela Britton

Author:Pamela Britton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Caro arched into him immediately, because it was true, she did feel it. What’s more, she wanted to feel it.

His kiss changed, turned into something impossible to resist, an openmouthed, hungry possession that made her moan in the back of her throat. He tasted like vanilla coffee. The fingers he’d used to brush her cheek dropped to her neck, stroking the back of it so that she shivered with pleasure. Delicious warmth spread down her spine, along her sides and then to her center.

It had been so long since she’d experienced pleasure.

“Ty,” she murmured, her hand curling around his nape. His hair was soft there, and curly, as it slid through her fingers. “We shouldn’t.”

“We won’t,” he said, his breath warm against the side of her face as he turned his head away, holding her against him, pressing her cheek against his own. “Not if you don’t want to.”

She shouldn’t want to. She hardly knew him, and yet she was paralyzed by longing.

“I think, maybe, I’m going to regret this.”

His body went still. She felt the tension beneath her hands, but then it faded, replaced by another kind of tautness.

He kissed her again.

But this time it was no gentle, tentative meeting of the lips. This time it was a full-on assault—as if he’d been holding back, afraid to let her feel just how much he wanted her.

She kissed him back just as passionately.

His hand moved down her neck, toward her collarbone. She could feel her breasts heat and then tighten in anticipation of his touch.

Yes, it had been far too long.

But he didn’t touch her there, not right away. His hand slipped beneath the button-down shirt she wore. He fingered her bare skin and she felt goose bumps.

“Yes,” she whispered. It was as good as she’d intuitively known it would be. His touch was masterful, his fingers sure and strong as they slowly, inexorably slid toward her bra. He found her nipple, pulled the edge of her cup down, whirled his thumb around the sensitive tip, teasing it and making her want far more than just his hand on her breast.

She reached down between them. Somehow she found herself sideways on the seat, her back against the door.

She cupped him.

It was his turn to gasp. And there could be no mistaking where this would lead. He was hard for her, but she made him harder, her fingers sliding up the length of him, the denim warm beneath her touch.

“Caro,” he grunted, pulling her toward him, guiding her to the backseat.

She let him, arching toward him when he found the snap of her jeans. She didn’t care that they were in a park, out in the middle of nowhere. Or that someone walking by might be able to see them. She wanted him. Now.

He pulled at her pants, and then she was naked from the waist down, and he was bending and spreading her legs….

Oh, Lord. He wasn’t—

She leaned her head back, her elbows resting on the leather seat. She shouldn’t let him.

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