“Touch yourself,” he ordered her. “Make yourself come.” He bit his lip hard as she let go of his shoulder and slid a hand down between them to find her clit. She’d barely touched herself when she went off, crying out, her pussy rippling around him, and he thrust harder to intensify her orgasm. He let himself go. He poured himself into her, shuddering violently, as she pulsed around him, milking him.
Weakness slid down his legs and he staggered in a semicircle to sit down hard on the low wall, narrowly missing the two wineglasses perched there. Tara straddled him, still impaled on his cock, and collapsed onto him, her head buried in the crook of his neck.
Their breathing heaved together as they clutched each other, eyes closed, Tara’s face pressed to his neck, his hot face pressed to her cool silky hair. After long moments, he realized goose bumps dotted her silky flesh.
“Cold?” he murmured into her hair. Her naked body was draped over him and for a moment he felt bad that he’d stripped her bare and all he’d done was open his fly. She nodded against him and he stood up, still holding her against him, and walked into the house. He headed straight to the bedroom, tossed back the duvet and laid her tenderly on the bed. He covered her, then stripped off his shirt and jeans and stepped out of the deck shoes he wore without socks. Then he slid in beside her, tucked her under his arm and fitted her body to his. She kissed his chest and nestled in closer, still limp from her climax.
Chapter Fourteen
They couldn’t get enough of each other, making love again before they dropped off to sleep and again in the morning. Tara slid out of bed to go make coffee while Joe went back to sleep. Naked, she peeked out through the French doors from the kitchen onto the terrace. Her clothes littered the tiles. Scanning the area, she darted nervously out onto the terrace to retrieve them, then quickly slipped the tank top over her head and stepped into the little boy shorts. She couldn’t help but smile at Joe’s comments about her “shorts”. And the shameless, wanton way she’d behaved last night. God, he’d taken her on the terrace, out in the open, totally naked. She shivered with remembered delight.
She considered leaving. Just getting out while he was asleep, running back to Santa Barbara so she didn’t have to face him again. Except she did have to face him again. And besides…she couldn’t just leave him. Yesterday he’d brought her breakfast in bed. He’d made dinner for her. He’d given her so much pleasure and told her she was beautiful and smart. Her heart swelled, remembering that.
So she made coffee and poured it into a large thermos jug when it was ready. Along with the muffins they’d bought yesterday and two mugs, she carried the thermos into the bedroom.
Joe sprawled on his stomach in her bed, taking up almost the whole damn thing, he was so huge. His bare feet, long and sexy, hung over the bottom of the bed, the duvet twisted crazily over his body. His arms were up around the pillow beneath his head, the morning light shadowing the curves of his muscled arms and shoulders. His dark hair was tousled, his cheeks darkened with whiskers, his beautiful chiseled mouth relaxed. She just stood there and looked at him, coffee and breakfast forgotten, rubbing mindlessly at the ache in her chest. She let out her breath on a soft sigh at the beauty of him.
Fear bubbled up inside her again, fear she’d fought all day yesterday as they’d explored Santa Ynez, holding hands like lovers, cooking dinner like a couple. She was not an emotional person, she was detached and independent. Sure, she cared about people. Obviously she loved her sister and her grandfather. She cared about the people who worked for her. But she could not care about Joe. Because, dammit, he scared her.
Swallowing hard past the tightness in her throat, she sat down on the edge of the bed and gave Joe’s big shoulder a little shake. He stirred, his long dark lashes feathered on his cheekbones, then fluttering open. His eyes, hazy with sleep, immediately fastened on hers. Dark and liquid, like hot coffee. She couldn’t resist reaching out to push his hair back off his forehead, combing her fingers through it gently.
“I brought you breakfast,” she told him. “Coffee and muffins.”
“Mmm.” He reached for her and before she knew it she was tumbled beneath his big, hard body. “I just want you for breakfast.” He rubbed his scratchy face against hers and she hunched her shoulders up as she tried to evade him. And she giggled. Good God, she giggled.
He pushed her tank top up over her breasts. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, just the tank top and panties. He rubbed his face over her breasts, took a nipple between his lips. Oh God, he was doing it to her again. She was helpless to resist him.
She grabbed hold of his hair, intending to pull him away from her sensitive nipple but instead she moaned and held him closer as he sucked harder.
“Joe,” she murmured. “Stop. Enough.”
“You don’t sound very sure of that,” he murmured, switching to her other breast, sending all kinds of shimmery tingles through her, everything inside her going soft and warm.
And he proceeded to have her for breakfast— and then coffee and muffins.
After they’d had a shower and dressed again, she suggested they should get back to Santa Barbara.
“What’s the rush?” Joe asked. “It’s Sunday.” She stared at him with frustration. She needed to get away from him, from his overwhelming sexual presence, from the temptation of his body and most importantly from the way he looked at her and saw inside her and asked her questions about stuff she didn’t even want to think about.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he said. “You can show me more of the ranch.”
She sighed and gave in to the inevitable. What would she do at home, anyway?
So they spent the afternoon wandering the dusky olive groves, then sitting in a grassy field in the sun talking.
“Did you know olives are a powerful aphrodisiac?” she asked.
“Huh?” He grinned. “Uh no. I’ve heard of other foods that are aphrodisiacs….oysters…”
“I think that’s just because they look like female genitalia,” she said.
He choked. “Yeah, that could be it.”
“Anyway, apparently the ancient Greeks ate olives and steamed barley before a night of love. It supposedly made men inexhaustible in bed.”
“Ah.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Worth trying.”
She laughed and pushed at his shoulder. “Like you need it.” They shared an intimate smile.
“You’re beautiful when you laugh,” he told her, brushing her cheek with a long piece of grass.
Oh God, he was doing it again. Telling her she was beautiful. Nobody had ever told her that. Well, she had a vague memory of her parents saying it, but that didn’t count. She knew she was okay looking, but not beautiful, certainly not glamorous like Sasha. But Joe really seemed to think she was beautiful and her heart warmed and softened at that.
He pushed her down and rolled over her. “That will be my new mission in life. Make Tara laugh.”
She couldn’t help but laugh again, but sobered instantly when he kissed her. Oh Lord, she was in so much trouble here.
She had no idea how she was going to handle things Monday morning.
Nick was sitting in his living room watching a movie on DVD when Joe arrived home Sunday evening.
“Wow,” he said as Joe came in. “You finally showed up. Must have been a good weekend.” Joe had left him a message that he was out at the ranch.