The Mail Order Groom by Sandra Chastain

Author:Sandra Chastain [Chastain, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-81728-0
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2014-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

11

“You told me, the next time, I had to ask for what I want,” she said, as she ripped off her gown and shift. “So, I’m asking Kiss me, Lucky.”

“Melissa …” he protested. “Are you sure? I feel like we’re standing on thin ice without skates.”

“We have skates. I feel the blade,” she whispered, “and it’s poking against me.”

“That’s not a skate you feel, darlin’. It’s part of me and if you don’t stop, it’s going somewhere you don’t want me to go. Think about what you’re doing.”

“I have. You’re my husband. If you don’t want to kiss me, I’ll kiss you.” She stood on her tiptoes, put her hands around his neck and forced him down so that she could nibble on his chin.

He moaned and forced himself to pull away. “You don’t know what you’re doing. This is not a good idea.”

“There are a lot of things I don’t know. I don’t know why you didn’t dance with me first? I’m your wife.”

“Have you ever tried to change the Widow Sweeney’s mind?”

In the back recesses of her mind, Melissa remembered the incident of the wedding dress. “Yes. But then you danced with Sable. Was she the one who kissed you that day in town? She is. I know it.”

Her kisses were growing more insistent. “Yes,” Lucky managed to say, “but she only kissed me on the cheek. It was to thank me.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Saving her from Bart.”

“So, dancing with her was your way of saying ‘you’re welcome’?” She worked her away across Lucky’s mouth, tugging at his upper lip. “She wasn’t passionate? You didn’t feel lust for her?”

“No. I didn’t feel lust for her.” He was having a hard time resisting her. “Melissa, why are you doing this?”

“I can’t say for sure that what I feel is passion. Maybe I’m just overheated. I think you’d better do something.”

“Melissa, I think you’ve had too much lemonade. Obviously something alcoholic was added. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, but I do. I really, really do. Why don’t you want me, Lucky? I thought strong, worldly men like you went after any available woman. I’m available. Is there something wrong with me?”

Not want her? There was no way she could possibly understand how much he wanted her. He ached with want. He was amazed by her honesty. No woman had been so open with him. “No,” he whispered, “there’s nothing wrong with you, nothing at all, except brothers and sisters don’t act like this.”

“But we’re not brother and sister, are we?” she asked, as she slid one hand between them and touched the part of him that took over his mind, the part of him that felt as if it would explode, the part of him that refused to take directions.

“Is it always like this?” she asked as she clasped him tightly, wanting to be closer, wanting to quell the insistent twitching between her legs. Wanting? She didn’t know what, only that if she didn’t get it, she would die. “Swollen, I mean.

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