“Tits, definitely.”

“Good answer.” He feasted on her ni**les with the perfect amount of hard rhythmic sucking, gentle licks and softly pressed kisses. And it was hot as hell the way he kept his big hand on her stomach and pushed her back to the mattress whenever she arched up.

Fletch didn’t say another word. He just drove her out of her f**king mind with lust.

Then he withdrew.

Tanna opened her eyes to see him throwing the star quilt aside. Before she could ask what he was doing, he plucked her off the mattress. She shrieked, which made him laugh as he brought them to the floor.

Then six feet five inches of man covered her body and his hungry mouth owned hers. Destroyed her with kisses so blistering-hot she swore she was melting. Fletch pinned her hands above her head and nestled his pelvis between her thighs. No need to use his hand to guide his c**k in. He just rolled his hips and the tip prodded her entrance.

Tanna surged up, anxious for that first hard thrust, gripping his waist with her legs and digging her heels into his ass.

He broke the kiss.

“What?” she murmured. “Did you forget a condom?”

“No. I slipped one on in the bathroom.” He kissed the corners of her smile, then went back to watching her with those topaz-colored eyes.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Because I want to see your face when I do this.”

He pushed inside her so slowly she swore she could feel every pulse of the vein running on the underside of his cock.

She wiggled her wrists to get him to let go and he wouldn’t. The man wasn’t acting at all like she expected. “We have done this before, Fletch.”

“I was rough earlier tonight.”

He’d been so . . . desperate for her after not seeing her for a couple of days, he’d pinned her against the wall and f**ked her as soon as she’d walked in the door. She’d loved seeing that side of him. “That’s what we both wanted.”

“Well, I don’t want that now.”

“What do you want?”

“You.” His lips brushed hers with fleeting kisses. “This.”

Tanna tried to chase his mouth for firmer contact, but he wouldn’t allow it.

He smiled against her cheek. “Woman, you define impatient.”

“I don’t like to wait. What’s the point? We both want to get off.”

“I can stop.” He pulled out completely.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she warned him.

He gifted her with that sharklike grin and slammed home to the root.

Tanna arched up, or rather she tried to, but Fletch’s big body kept hers in place. He barely moved his pelvis. He nuzzled her neck, nipping at the straining cords as she tried to force him to f**k her harder, faster, deeper—all to no avail.

“You always smell like wildflowers and rain,” he murmured. “I want to lose myself in you. Just like this. Slow and sweet.”

Maybe she needed a gentle touch tonight as much as he did. And she’d needed affirmation that she could give it to him.

“Will you kiss me slow and sweet while you’re lovin’ on me that way?” she whispered. She felt him smile against her throat.

“Be my pleasure.”

Chapter Thirty-one

“So on your day off, instead of hanging by the pool or shootin’ pool in some dark bar, you’re out here . . . doin’ what exactly?”

Tanna rested her forearm across the pitchfork handle and looked at Sutton. “I wonder why I’m happy to see you when I remember that every time I do see you, you bust my balls.”

Sutton laughed. “Missed your smart mouth, Tex-Mex. But really, what are you doin’?”

“Helping out. Eli and Summer went to some big auction out of town. The girls were scheduled to come today and rather than disappointing them, I offered my services. After they left, I went for a ride. Now I’m cleaning up. What about you?”

“I’m here overnight. There are a few rodeos within a day’s drive so Eli said I could crash here between events.”

“Will you be training while you’re here?”

“Doubtful. How about you?”

Tanna shuffled her feet. “I’m riding, and training—if I can even call it that. It’s slow goin’.”

His eyebrows drew together. “You’re slow goin’? Or the training is slow goin’?”

“Both. I mean, I’m no longer trotting around the barrels, which is progress, but I’m nowhere near normal speed.”

“You’ve had no issues galloping and pushing the horse hard when you’re out joyriding?”

She laughed. “Nope.”

“So what horses have you been working with?”

“Mostly Celia’s horse, Mickey. He’s a little high-strung, nowhere near Jezebel’s level. But at least he knows what to do on the dirt, which is more than I can say for the other horses I’ve tried. No offense to Eli. But slow and steady is probably all I can handle right now anyway.”

“Bullshit. You run barrels yet today?”

“No.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

Pathetic to admit, but she needed a cheerleader. Or at least a scorekeeper. Or someone around to help her in case she did get injured. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Which is exactly why you should do it. Let’s kick dirt in the face of those speed demons—or lack of demons—doggin’ you, and chase some cans.”