I edged closer to the bedroom door, keeping my eyes on his. “Cowboy, I don’t think—”
“That’s the problem right there. Stop thinking.”
My gaze drifted downward. “Sort of hard to do when you aren’t wearing underwear…or anything else.”
“I go commando all the time,” he said nonchalantly. “Not a big deal. Now come in here and take a good look. I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
“I…I can’t.”
He picked his head up to get a better look at me through the open doorway. “Anna, you said you wanted to learn, right? Just pretend this is an art class, and I’m your nude model.”
With his spectacular chest, wide shoulders, and his other manly attributes, that wasn’t so hard to picture. But this wasn’t an art room filled with other artists all staring at the man on my bed. It was just me. Us, actually…in a terribly intimate setting. And if he was the one lying spread-eagled under the glaring, dome-shaped light in my bedroom, then why did I feel like I was the one who was exposed and vulnerable?
“Yes, but…”
A smile played on his lips as he leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Reckon you have yourself a live study at your disposal.”
To his credit, he was in excellent shape. And definitely willing. But I wasn’t entirely comfortable staring at his naked form spread gloriously across my sheets. Especially when he was visually excited. Then again, if he didn’t feel ashamed, why should I?
I bit my lip, feeling painfully inhibited. “I can do anything I want?”
“Darlin’, you have my permission to do whatever your little heart desires. Well, within reason. No crazy bondage shit, okay? I don’t like the idea of being trussed up like some rodeo calf. Now get over here.” He patted the spot next to him on the bed.
I walked slowly into the room, keeping my gaze locked onto his, rather than his other male parts as I neared the bed. He smiled at me. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Really.”
“If I do this, I think my moral compass is going to go way off the mark.”
He chuckled. “Nah. You’re overanalyzing it. Just look at it this way. If I’d have slept with you when I had the chance, you would’ve already done a lot more than this.”
“True, but still…”
Cowboy reached out and took my hand, pulling me down into a sitting position next to him. “Let me earn your trust, Anna. The bastard who hurt you didn’t deserve it, but I want to show you that I do. I’m not him, and I won’t hurt you. Ever.”
“I know that. It’s just…well, I don’t know what to do.”
He gave me a wink, then flattened my palm against his chest. “Start here,” he said, guiding my hand down to where his erection curved over his belly. “And work your way down…to this.”
Holy hell.
I jerked my hand back. “Um, maybe we should start a little slower.”
“Suit yourself,” Cowboy said, laughing at my reaction.
“If you’re trying to embarrass me, it’s working.”
“Darlin’, I’m not trying to embarrass you. All I want is for you to feel more comfortable with me and less self-conscious about yourself. Trust me when I say that there’s nothing you can do here that’s wrong.” Cowboy rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. “Just think of it as therapeutic massage,” he instructed.
“Am I being graded for this, teacher?” I asked.
He smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m grading on a curve.” Then he cracked one eye open to make sure I got his stupid joke. The humor helped ease the stress and humiliation coursing through my veins.
I shifted closer, folding my knees beneath me. My hand reached back out to touch his stomach, but I hesitated.
“Do you want me to talk about the weather or something to calm your nerves?”
“No. Just…be quiet. And close your eyes. I can’t concentrate with you talking and looking at me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, wearing a huge grin.
Most likely he was surprised I was actually going through with his ridiculous idea. Or maybe he thought I wouldn’t and that’s why he was so amused. But I’d never been able to inspect a man’s nude body—especially one as fully equipped as Cowboy’s—at my own leisure before. So, in the name of research… Okay, maybe that’s the excuse I’d used to convince myself.
I lowered my hand gently onto his stomach. His muscles flinched under my unexpected touch. For a moment, I wondered if my hands were cold. Probably. I didn’t feel cold, but it would explain why my whole body was shaking. Then again, that could easily be my nerves jumping as my hand traveled over his well-defined abs.
As I placed my other hand on him, I glanced down at his narrow waist and my gaze followed the muscle definition down the length of his nicely toned body. He was still fully aroused, which only made my skittishness return.
My straying hands lingered in designated areas, a safe distance away from his… Nope. Not going there—yet. But even though I enjoyed the hardness of this fine male specimen under my hands, I was beginning to feel uninspired.
I traveled a little farther south and checked his face for any signs of embarrassment or him wanting to turn back. Nothing. No blushing cheeks. No shocked, what-do-you-think-you’re-doing look. He just reclined with a tiny smirk curving the corner of his mouth while prominently displaying an erection the size of a torpedo.
Obviously he knew I was avoiding his… Penis? Member? What the hell do you call those things? Oh, come on, Anna! Go for it already. You want to touch his…dick. Feeling weak at the thought, I shifted my weight forward, leaning into his muscular thigh. “I’m going to…um, do something different now.”
Cowboy’s grin widened, but his eyes stayed closed. “Whatever you say.”
Stretching out my hand, I concentrated intensely on the descent of my fingertips until I reached my destination and curled my fingers around the base of his shaft. The moment I grasped him, Cowboy’s entire body stiffened and his penis twitched.
I froze, not sure what happened. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all.” He groaned, then relaxed his body. “Just caught me a little off guard.”
“I warned you first.”
Cowboy chuckled. “That you did. But I didn’t realize you were just going to…er, grab the bull by the horns. I thought you’d ease into it a little more.”
“So what I did wasn’t enjoyable?”
“Anna, you’re holding my rock-hard dick in your hand. What part of any of this do you think I’m not enjoying?”
I coughed to stifle the laughter bubbling in my throat. “Right.”
“Now, stop second-guessing yourself and just do whatever you want.”
Throwing caution and inhibition to the wind, I intuitively gave his swollen member a tight squeeze. He moaned under his breath, and the sound alone filled me with a renewed sense of confidence. It confirmed that I could elicit a response from him at will. A very positive one at that.
I caressed him slowly in what I deemed a vaguely sensual manner—something I observed on the DVDs I’d watched. He lay quietly, eyes still closed, while I touched him intimately, calculating every robotic move I made. My touches became more fluid as my fingers traced over his thickness and I delighted myself in the bumps and ridges under the smooth, silky skin.
“You’re so hard,” I said, then blushed a little as I realized I spoke out loud. “I mean, you have a lovely, um…” Damn. I still can’t say dick out loud.
I found certain motions took him to a higher aroused state. Direct contact made him grow thicker and longer, which I hadn’t thought possible, while my hand pumping his shaft deepened the color of his helmet. Every moan, every grunt he released, hit me low and deep, sending ripples of pleasure cascading throughout my body. Then I tried this contract and release variation on him that I’d read about.