“Goddammit,” he mutters, then shoves himself down into his chair. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
I ignore him and set down his plate and glass of tea. “I made all your favorites tonight, cowboy.”
He tears his eyes off of me long enough to glance at his plate. He grunts in response, and just starts eating.
Which is fine. I know when he comes home from working the cattle he’s ravenous. And his body will need fuel for what I have planned. Do I actually know what I’m doing? Nope, no clue. But I’ve read enough of Birdie’s books she sent me to get the gist of how seductions go. Though admittedly, the man is usually the one doing the seducing. Just goes to show that I’m dumb enough to fall for the most stubborn man in the world.
I finish my plate, I didn’t eat very much because I don’t want to have gas or something the first time I have sex. That would be so embarrassing.
“This was good, angel, damn good,” he murmurs.
My nipples pebble at the sound of that nickname. He hasn’t called me ‘angel’ again since that first night. He’s nearly slipped up a few times, but he always ends up using my name.
I bring over the slice of pie. “I hope you saved room for pie.” I set it down in front of him after removing his empty dinner plate.
He looks down, then back up at me. “Did you make my mama’s pecan pie?” His voice sounds thick with emotion.
“I sure did. I can’t promise it’ll be as good as hers, but here, let’s taste.” I fork up a bite from his slice and bring the utensil to his full lips.
He obediently opens and then he moans as he chews. His eyes close. “Amber, what are you doing?”
I push the table back enough so that I can squeeze in between him and the heavy oak. Then I straddle his lap. His hands immediately grip my hips and I slide my hands up his chest to the thick column of his neck.
“I know you want me,” I say. I lean forward and press my lips to his neck. “I want you, too.” It’s now or never. He hasn’t shoved me off his lap yet, so I’m going for it.
I pull his face down and kiss him.
His lips are a firm line for a solid minute, it seems, before he growls at the back of his throat and then devours me. His tongue dives into my mouth. He kisses me hard. It’s a claiming and my panties are soaked, my clit is throbbing.
He shoves something on the table behind me, then lifts me onto the surface. His big body looms over me as he pulls my tank top up to my throat. His blue eyes laser in on my bare boobs.
“Wanting you is never the problem. My dick has been hard since the moment I saw you.”
I arch my back. “Yes,” I whisper.
He palms both my breasts. “Look at how pretty your titties are, angel. So pale and plump.” His thumbs scrape across my sensitive tips before he leans down and closes his mouth over one of them.
I thread my fingers through his hair. “Quinn. I want you. Make me yours. Claim me.”
He’s back to my mouth, kissing me again. He sucks my tongue into his mouth. Then we’re making out and it’s the very best feeling in the world. The brush of his tightly cropped beard against my cheeks. The sweet taste of the pie on his tongue.
Oh, how I love this man. I want to be his wife and the mother of his children. I don’t care how old I am. My granny always said I was an old soul. I know Quinn is my other half. I feel it in my bones.
The sound of his zipper is the most erotic noise I’ve ever heard and I swear I get a fresh flood of arousal.
And then the doorbell rings.
He stills. Takes his mouth off of me and backs up. His eyes are locked on my body, then he squeezes them shut.
I get a brief glimpse of the significant bulge behind his boxer briefs before he’s tugging up his zipper.
“Cover yourself up.” He wipes his mouth, as if he wants to wipe away all memory of my kisses. “This was a mistake.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Amber. It won’t happen again.”