He closed his eyes and groaned, a deep, masculine sound, accentuated by the arch of his neck and the press of his belly against her belly. His thick eyelashes lay like jet-black fans on his tanned skin. What an odd thing to notice when her blood felt like molten roux moving through her body!
Opening his eyes slowly, he gazed at her. His dark eyes were hazed with arousal. “Come to bed with me, sweetheart,” his voice rasped out, thick and raw.
Does he have to talk? Did he have to ask for my permission? Couldn’t he just carry me off like some Cajun caveman, and then later I could say I hadn’t actually consented?
“Please.”
Oh, God! He had to throw in the please card. She moaned and hesitated just long enough for Rusty to realize that she wasn’t falling into his bed. Not that easy.
He stepped back an inch or two and let her lower herself from tiptoes to stand on the floor. Her knees were shaky, but she managed to stand upright.
“I’m sorry, Rusty. It’s just that I can’t do this again. Not without—”
He put a hand up, halting her words. “I get it, Charmaine. I get it.” Turning away from her, he adjusted his pants and walked toward the door that led to the back porch. When he got there, he breathed deeply several times, then said, “You might consider going back with Remy and your aunt when they come here. Luc will find another safe place for you.”
Tears were running down her face. Not for herself, but for Rusty. Somehow, she had hurt him, and she didn’t know how to fix the pain. With a catch in her voice, she asked, “Why?”
“Because if you stay here, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you, born-again cupcake or not.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
“That’s not a threat, darlin’. That’s a promise.” With those ominous words, he moved out into the darkness beyond the porch.
Hot stuff… and then some!
It was Saturday night, and Raoul was more than ready to paint the town… or a small portion of Lake Charles.
He heard Amelie’s horn just as he came out of his bedroom and she pulled into the front yard. He gave only a cursory glance at Charmaine’s closed door. Let her sulk. She’d been avoiding him for two days, ever since he’d advised her to leave the ranch when Remy and her aunt arrived, which should be tomorrow. He didn’t know if her silence meant she was going to leave or if she was digging in her heels. She’d been warned.
And he didn’t want to examine too closely the near panic that overcame him every time he contemplated her actually leaving. He also wasn’t examining too closely their explosive almost-sex encounter in the kitchen two nights ago. Whoo-ee! The two of them were like flint on dry tinder. They had to put distance between them, painful as it would be… at least, for him.
When he went out on the porch and down to the yard, Amelie waved and got out of her red Volkswagen van with ancelet veterinary clinic printed on the side. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged him warmly.
“You’re lookin’ good, buddy. No more prison pallor.”
“You’re lookin’ pretty good yourself, darlin’.” Amelie was a fine-looking woman, short and small-boned, with dark Cajun hair. They’d met in vet school. She’d stuck by him at his trial and the whole time he was in the slammer, with frequent visits. He owed her a lot. But it was true what he’d told Charmaine. Amelie was a good friend. That was all.
Amelie waved at Linc and Clarence, who were sitting on rockers on the front porch, all spiffied up in clean jeans with ironed pleats, thanks to Charmaine, cowboy shirts with snaps instead of buttons, and string ties. He wore jeans, also sporting the freakin’ pleats, a light blue T-shirt and a navy blue blazer. That was as dressed up as he got these days.
“What are you guys up to tonight?” he asked, draping an arm over Amelie’s shoulder.
It was Linc who answered. “Goin’ to The Horny Bull fer a little beer and dinner. Mebbe some dancin’, if I can find a gal who’s willin’. Jimmy’s father picked him up fer an overnight visit, so we’re just a couple of wild and crazy guys tonight.”