“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing her mouth.
“Now you,” she said. “I want to do it.”
Jesus. Jesus Christ. It killed him, but he had to stop her.
He grabbed her hands as she reached for him, gritting his teeth. “You have to ask my permission.”
She paused, looked up at him and blinked. For a moment he thought he might have blown it and she was going to refuse. Her pretty mouth was set in a mutinous line, but then she said, “Can I please wash you?”
He gave a short nod and released her hands. She squeezed a puddle of body wash into her hand, soaped him up and her wicked fingers circled the base of his cock, ran over his tight balls, behind them, up through the crack of his ass—fuck! The caress was brief, but enough to have pleasure slamming through his bloodstream, heat cascading over him, balls tightening and pulling up hard. She pulled at his dick, her hand slick and soapy, up, down, up, down.
“Yeah.” He set his hands over hers gently and showed her how he liked it with that twist over the head, and she took over, her focus on him and her hands, stroking him perfectly. “Oh yeah. So good, baby, just like that.” Pressure built inside him and he thrust into her slick hands. His jaw tightened…and then he came, the top of his head nearly blowing off. “Ah, Christ,” he almost shouted. “Christ, Tara.” Hot semen spilled over her hands, quickly washed away by the water.
When he could focus his vision, he looked at her and saw…gratification. She was happy she’d done that for him. With a long groan he pulled her up against him, wrapped his arms around her and gave her a soapy wet hug. Satisfaction swelled inside his chest.
The doubts from last night were still there. The temptation, no, the need, to tame her had been so consuming he’d lost sight of reality. He was in a really precarious position here and spending the day with her wasn’t going to help that. And yet…he couldn’t help feeling it was all good and right. Seeing the look on her face, the joy she got from giving, even if she didn’t yet recognize it for what it was… Worth the risk. Christ, he hoped he was right.
Chapter Thirteen
They drove back to Highway 154, this time turning left toward Santa Ynez. It was another perfect day, the sky cerulean with a few wispy clouds streaking the sky. Orange and purple wildflowers brightened the roadside and rolling golden fields stretched away from the highway to the distance where the Santa Ynez Mountains jutted into the sky. Santa Ynez had a quaint, Western style. Joe found a place to park and then they stood on the sidewalk. “First things first,” he said. “We need a drugstore.”
He smiled down at her, the sun gilding her softly curling hair. She’d slid sunglasses onto her face so he couldn’t see her eyes, but he could see her cheeks pinken. Sun glinted off the fine golden hairs on her arms.
She nodded across the street. “There’s one right there.”
They took care of that errand, then emerged back into the bright sunshine. He put on his own sunglasses. “Where to now?” he asked.
She gave a heavy sigh as if she were being forced to be a tourist. “We can wander around, look in some of the shops,” she said, starting down the street. “There’s some cute places and wine tasting rooms.”
“Sounds cool.”
They spent a while in one room where artists were painting and tasted a few different wines, browsed in interesting little shops and galleries, sat on a patio and drank margaritas.
“What next?” he asked.
“We could go to one of the wineries near here,” Tara suggested after a short pause.
“I’d like that.” They walked back to the car, hand in hand again. “But first let’s pick up a few things and then later I’ll cook us dinner.”
“You cook?” She looked up at him.
He nodded. “Sure. Don’t you?”
“Well…I can make a few basic things. But I have to admit when it comes to cooking, I’m as spoiled as Sasha. Nina basically does all our cooking and on weekends we eat out a lot.”
He grinned at her. “Spoiled little rich girl. That’s okay. I can cook. My parents are both chefs, remember?”
She nodded and took him to a little shop where they could get a few groceries.
“Speaking of home, you should call and tell them you won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”
She gave him a long look.
He gave her butt a gentle tap, a promise of what else could come if she didn’t do as he told her. “Call them.”
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and made the call. “I’m going to tell them you kidnapped me and held me a naked hostage,” she said as the phone rang. He grinned and waited as she left a message saying she was out at the ranch.
“I saw some cookware in the kitchen, so we should have the basics, right?” he asked as he picked out baby greens for a salad, fresh tomatoes, garlic and herbs, bread and cheese. When he ordered muffins at the bakery and picked up a quart of milk, she looked at him inquiringly.
“Breakfast.”
“Oh my God.”
He grinned.
They climbed back in the car and turned off the highway to drive to The Bridle Path Winery. He admired the vineyards lining the road to the winery then pulled into a busy parking lot.
“I like this place,” Tara said. “And it’s close.”
Joe studied the white stucco building with traditional red tile roof as they walked toward it. Potted palms and colorful flowers adorned the stone courtyard and a long, shaded veranda lined one side. Water splashed in a fountain in the center of the courtyard, sparkling in the sun. They walked through a wide, vine-covered arch in the stucco wall.
“Nice,” he murmured, lowering his glasses to take it in. “This is what you’d like to have at the mill, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Can’t you picture it?”
“Absolutely,” he said with a smile. “Have you done your business case?”
She gave him a look that made his grin widen.
“Better get on that,” he said and gave her butt another little pat. Then he took her hand again to lead her out of the heat and into the cool tasting room and just laughed when she yanked it away from him.
“This is a Viognier,” they were told as they accepted a glass of a deep golden wine. They each swirled the glass, inhaled the aroma. “You’ll notice aromas of apricot and honey, perhaps a hint of anise. It’s rich and complex.” They sampled several other white wines, and then moved on to the reds. “The finish of this Pinot Noir lingers long with flavors evolving from cherries and currants to cocoa with an infusion of exotic spices,” the young woman said. A 1999 Cabernet Franc followed, a lighter, tawnier colored wine with aromas of pine needles and vanilla. It was tarter than the previous one, a little puckery.
At the end of their tasting, Joe said, “I liked the Pinot Noir. I’m going to get a bottle of that for dinner.” It was more than he usually paid for a bottle of wine, but what the hell, he had a spoiled rich girl to impress tonight.
The sun was lower as they drove back to the ranch. Inside the house, Joe wandered to the French doors off the living room and threw them open, then stepped out onto the terrace. The air was soft and warm and still outside, a quiet peacefulness he’d never experienced. He drew a deep breath, some of his tension easing.
Now that Tara had clothes, she could make a run for it, back to her car in the lot at the mill. But she followed him out onto the patio. Warmth spread through his chest.
“We’re staying here again tonight?” she asked.
He turned to look at her and saw the hesitation on her beautiful face.
“Yes.” He moved toward her put his hands on her shoulders. “After I make dinner and we drink that wine, I’m going to take you back to bed and fuck you all night.”