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Her Wicker Guardian

Page 164

by Alana Khan

“Eventually.” I let him hear exactly what I mean.

The humor leaves his face. Suddenly, the way he’s looking at me isn’t playful at all. Desire rolls low through my belly and gathers between my thighs.

“I like that answer,” he says.

“I thought you might.”

He comes closer but stops before touching me. I close the last few inches myself.

His hands settle at my waist when I kiss him, then curve around my back and pull me in until I’m pressed against him. I rise onto my toes, and he meets me halfway, his mouth opening over mine.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders. The new green willow at his chest brushes my forearm, and I stop.

Locke stops too.

“Did I hurt it?” I ask.

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

I touch the repaired place lightly. It feels solid beneath my fingers, warm beneath the new green willow. Then I kiss him again.

His arms close around me, and I feel the moment his body begins responding, the fine weave between us firming against my stomach. My breath catches. Locke pulls me closer and kisses me harder.

Suddenly there are too many clothes between us. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it toward the bed. My bra follows.

Locke’s gaze stays on my breasts long enough to make me smile.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Very much.”

I reach for the button of my shorts.

He watches as I push the shorts and underwear down together and step out of them.

Locke doesn’t move. He looks me over slowly enough that I feel every inch of it, from my breasts to my stomach to the dark curls between my thighs, before he finally looks back at my face.

“Rachel.”

Something in his voice sends heat sparking through me. “What?”

“I want to taste you.”

The words send a sharp little thrill through me. “You want to?”

“Yes.” He looks at me again. “If you want me to.”

My body answers immediately. “I do.”

Locke comes closer and puts his hands at my waist. He kisses me once, slow and warm, then walks me backward until the backs of my legs meet the mattress.

I sit, and he follows me down just far enough to kiss me again. One hand moves along my thigh, warm against my skin, and when he draws back, his attention drops between my legs.

I lie back, keeping my hips close to the edge of the mattress. Then I bend my knees and draw my feet onto the bed, opening my thighs for him. Locke kneels between them.