Page 56 of Wild and Wanted

But not before every inch of her body had made contact with every inch of his.

‘This is not the skirt I asked you to wear,’ he murmured as her feet touched the ground.

Stevie quirked an eyebrow. ‘Have you ever tried to wear a short skirt on a horse?’

He grinned. ‘No, ma’am.’

‘Trust me, it wouldn’t have left much to the imagination.’

‘Duh,’ he said, laughter dancing in his eyes as his hands left her hips, travelling to her ass, roving over the naked cheeks. ‘Did you at least—’ A sudden gleam replaced the laughter in his eyes. ‘Why Ms Everhart, I do believe you’re commando under there.’

Stevie’s legs almost buckled at the way he said commando – like he’d invented the word. And how dirty it sounded. Thankfully she had Gertie at her back and Clay at her front, to save her from sliding to a heap on the ground.

Stevie might be new to all this flirty banter stuff but she understood she also had power in this situation even if her wobbly knees begged to differ. She fixed him with a sweet smile as she lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

‘Your wish is my command.’

The flare of Clay’s nostrils was the only confirmation she needed about her power, but his muttered ‘Christ,’ as his hands palmed her cheeks was dizzying as well.

His head dropped then, his lips claiming hers with a groan so hot and hungry it skittered goose bumps to every inch of her skin and licked right between her legs, stoking the smouldering coals of her desire. She’d been hot for this kiss ever since she’d sat in the saddle.

No, longer. Since she’d climbed down that ladder last night.

With the sound of her heart thumping through her ears, Stevie pushed onto her tiptoes, clutching the front of his shirt as she opened to him, seeking the hard ravage of his mouth and the hungry demand of his tongue, which thrust in and out in such an explicit display of dominance she was left in no doubt this was how Clay Calhoun would… fuck her.

Eep… this man was corrupting her so thoroughly she was going straight to hell.

The last thing she expected was for him to end the kiss, his mouth wet as he pulled back, breathing satisfyingly hard. ‘Let’s eat,’ he said, a slow smile tilting his mouth as she mewled her disappointment.

Eat? Was he for real? How could she eat when her body was craving a different kind of sustenance? Didn’t he know how close she was from combusting? ‘I’m… not hungry. Not for food anyway.’

‘I know.’ He grinned at her admission then winked. ‘Anticipation.’

Stevie blinked. He could take his anticipation and stick it where the sun didn’t shine. Her fingers tightened in his shirt. ‘I almost…’

She stopped abruptly, realising what she’d been about to admit. Surely not even he could have anticipated how his request for her to go pantiless would push her so close to the edge? But how could she say that to him? Tell him the friction of the saddle had been so excruciatingly good it had stopped just shy of bringing her to orgasm.

Stevie had never talked about this sort of thing with a guy before.

Gathering her courage, she tried again. ‘The ride was…’ Nope. ‘The saddle against…’ Oh God – big nope. ‘I nearly…’

It was no use. Her face was burning and her hands were all sweaty – she couldn’t say it. Why couldn’t she just say, Clay, I almost came back there?

God… she really needed to get better at this stuff.

‘Yeah.’ A smile played around the edges of his mouth. ‘I know what you nearly did.’

One of his hands left her ass cheek and slid onto Gertie’s saddle behind Stevie’s head as he hitched himself closer, sandwiching her real tight between him and the horse, his hips intimately aligned with hers. ‘You aching there, Stevie girl?’ he murmured as he rubbed slowly and deliciously against her screaming flesh.

She clung to his shirt even harder, a moan sliding from her throat. She couldn’t help it; his grind was an exquisitely tortuous pleasure.

‘Hmm,’ he murmured, his lips brushing her temple. ‘Yeah, you are.’

He ground a little harder, the outline of his erection pressing into the seam of her sex, and Stevie gasped as darts of pleasure wormed from her belly to hit their target between her legs.

‘Good,’ he said, easing away again before dropping a kiss on her nose and whispering, ‘Hold that thought for later.’

He stepped back completely, leaving Stevie panting in frustration, her body one giant throb, her incredulous expression mirroring her thwarted passion and him completely unabashed at his action. ‘You are a terrible person, Clay Calhoun.’