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Londyn nodded, her mouth suddenly dry and her pulse hammering through her veins. She moved forward and worked the buttons on his shirt down to where it was tucked into his jeans.
Nash pulled the hem from his waistband.
Londyn pushed the garment over his shoulders and pulled it off, hanging it over the stall door.
Nash unbuckled his belt, toed off his boots and peeled his wet jeans down his legs. Naked, he turned to face her. She took the jeans from him and draped them over the door without actually looking, her gaze otherwise occupied with his gorgeous body and his rigid cock.
“No regrets,” she whispered and stepped into his arms, her hands going behind him to cup his tight ass.
Freed from the wet clothes, his skin was cool to her touch but stretched taut over thick muscles.
Immediately, his cock swelled, pressing against the sweatshirt, nudging her belly. His hands swept over her arms and downward, molding the fabric over her hips, moving lower to slide beneath the hem.
Londyn’s breath caught and held in her throat as Nash’s fingers dug into the flesh of her buttocks and then slid down to grasp her thighs. As he hoisted her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist and lowered herself down until his cock nudged her entrance.
She wanted him inside her more than she wanted to breathe.
“Wait,” he said, cutting through her haze of passion.
“Wait?” She blinked, her gaze meeting his. “Are you kidding?”
He chuckled. “Protection?”
Londyn pulled in a deep breath and let it out. “Right.” She unlocked her legs from around his waist. “Do you have any?”
“I hope so.” Nash lifted her off him and set her on her bare feet on top of the sleeping bags. He grabbed his jeans from where she’d hung them on the stall door. When he dug his hand into the back pocket, he let out a stream of curses.
“What?” Londyn asked.
“My wallet isn’t in my pocket.” He hung the jeans back on the door. “It must have fallen out in the creek.”
Londyn shook her head and walked across the stall to stand beside him. Then she bent and felt around in the woodchips. “It might have fallen out when I hung your jeans.”
While she searched the stall floor, he leaned over the door and stared at the ground on the other side. “There it is,” he said.
Londyn straightened with a crooked smile. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was still in your pocket. I was otherwise engaged with the view of your incredible...assets.”
Nash chuckled, opened the stall, retrieved the wallet and closed the door again. He dug into the wallet. “I just hope I have—” With a grin, he pulled out a small square packet. “Bingo.”
She took the packet and tossed it onto the sleeping bags.
Nash frowned. “But I thought...”
“Ever heard of foreplay?” She grabbed the hem of the sweatshirt and dragged it slowly up her torso, past her breasts and over her head, letting it drop silently to the floor filled with woodchips. Then she took his hand and led him to the makeshift bed.
She was by no means a virgin, but she’d never performed a striptease for a man. Something about Nash and being cocooned in the barn with a storm raging around them made her toss all inhibition to the wild winds blowing against the barn walls. Londyn knelt on the bedding before him.
When he started to lower himself to join her, she shook her head. “Not yet.”
His brow dipped.
“First, this.” She wrapped her hands around his cock and guided it to her mouth. It was hot and thick. “So hard.”
“You do that to me,” he said.
She touched her tongue to the tip of his shaft.
He gasped and jerked backward.
