AdonisinTexas (6 page)

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Authors: Calista Fox

BOOK: AdonisinTexas
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She’d never experienced the pleasure of having a man’s hard
muscles conform to her softer curves, nor had she ever had one kiss her with
such passion that it made her entire body go up in flames. It was unnerving how
quickly he set her on fire, but it was also titillating and so welcomed.

When he finally broke their kiss, they were both breathless.
He stared down at her with heat and desire in his shimmering cerulean irises.
Ginger was grateful he had a solid grip on her, because she practically melted
to the floor under his intense, yet sinfully delicious gaze.

“Sorry about that,” he said in the low, intimate voice that
felt as though warm honey oozed down her spine. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you hear me complaining?”

He grinned at her once more. “No, I did not.”

“So feel free to do it again.”

This time, his lips tangled with hers, gently tugging and
suckling until her soft moan filled the quiet room. His grip on her tightened
and he kissed her with fervor, lighting her up all over again.

Endless minutes seemed to slide by as his tongue delved deep
and she responded to his kiss. A small whimper of protest fell from her lips
when he eventually pulled away.

In a strained tone, Ryan said, “Maybe we ought to take this
slow, sweetheart.” Lust and fire flickered in his eyes as he stared down at
her. “This could get out of hand fast.”

She could barely breathe, but managed to say, “I think
you’re right.” Her heart hammered in her chest as though she’d just swam from
one end of the lake to the other. Flames seemed to dance along her skin and the
fiery sensations inside her singed her to core of her being.

Every ounce of her wanted to feel his hands and mouth on her
body. But despite what Lydia Bain might think of her, Ginger was not a loose
woman. In fact, she was still a virgin. Not necessarily because pre-marital sex
was frowned upon by the church she attended—she’d never let the reverend and
his wife dictate what she could or couldn’t do in the privacy of her own
bedroom. Rather, Ginger had never met a man who’d made her want to throw all
her inhibitions out the window and make wild, passionate love all night long.

Until now…

Stepping out of Ryan’s embrace, she said, “I’m going to
change out of this dress, if you don’t mind.”

“Careful about what you slip into.” He winked at her.
“You’re already testing my restraint.”

Her stomach took a wicked tumble. “Ryan Bain,” she said in a
mockingly chastising voice. “I’ll have you know I’m a very respectable woman.”

He chuckled. “Hopefully, not
too
respectable.”

Heat tinged her cheeks and neck. She laughed softly and
shook her head as she turned away, took the step up to the foyer platform and
rounded the corner to the hallway that led to two decent-sized bedrooms and one
guest bathroom. Her own bathroom in the master suite was large and boasted a
walk-in closet. She quickly stripped off her shoes and clothes, and reached for
a pair of drawstring pants and a tank top, but suddenly changed her mind.

Although, yes, they needed to take the sexual aspect of
their relationship slow, Ginger still had the burning desire to wear something
sexy for Ryan. For years, she’d owned an entire rack full of nightgowns, with
no one to show them off to. In her top dresser drawer, she had some sexier
ensembles, but hanging in her closet was a selection of pretty, satiny gowns
that only occasionally saw the light of day, when Ginger was in the mood for a
glass of champagne, a warm fire and something frilly to wear.

It was really quite depressing to think she’d wandered
around this big house all dolled up and all by herself for the past three
years. There had been many nights when loneliness had crept around the fringes
of her contentment. She’d spent years convincing herself all that really mattered
was that she had her boutique. She couldn’t bring back her family, and she
certainly hadn’t sparked with anyone in Wilder before now. So she’d resigned
herself to the old-fashioned notion of spinsterhood, and had made it tolerable
by surrounding herself with good friends and by working hard at her store.

But she’d experienced pangs of abandonment and a twinge of
forlorn despondency, though she’d never shared that with anyone. Not even Liza.
Instead, she’d suffered in silence.

This evening, however, there was a very gorgeous man in her
home, who
did
ignite her passion and who chased away her lonesomeness.
And he clearly wanted her. There’d been no mistaking it in his kiss, or in his
heated gaze.

And Ginger wanted
him
.

Sticking with the theory of not pushing red-hot buttons too
hard, she chose a beautiful midnight-blue, full-length nightgown. Removing it
from the padded hanger, she slipped the garment on and surveyed herself in the
three-way mirror. With a nod, she thought it’d do quite nicely. The capped
sleeves and bodice were all lace, with a vee’d neckline and back. Just below
her ribs, the lace ended and satin flowed over her belly, hips and upper
thighs, then flared slightly as it cascaded to the floor. Proper Southern Belle
with the hint of the risqué.

She pulled on the matching satin robe that had a slim tie
just below her breasts. The sleeves were fitted, and three-quarters length. She
added the lacey thong that matched the bodice, stepped into a pair of
three-inch, silver slippers and then primped quickly at the vanity.

Mustering her verve, she returned to the kitchen. Ryan had
set out their dinner on plates at the island, rather than in the formal dining
room that sat partially behind the living room. He’d poured wine and was
sipping his when she walked in. His head snapped up and his eyes widened.

“Good Lord, Ginger Monroe.” He let out a whistle of
appreciation. “Or should I call you Marilyn?”

She laughed. “No one has
ever
called me that.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said with a shake of his head
as his gaze roved her body. “You’ve got sexy down pat.”

“It’s just a robe,” she said as she slid onto the
high-backed barstool across from him.

“No, that’s a heart attack waitin’ to happen.”

She couldn’t fight back the smile that touched her lips. “Thank
you.”

A low groan from him told her he liked what he saw. “If you
always eat dinner dressed in something that provocative, I’m moving in.”

Excitement rippled through her. “I do enjoy my nightgowns.
No one ever sees them, though.”

He seemed to give this thought, then said, “I was wondering
why you were still single. Damn glad, mind you. But I just can’t fathom it.”

“Slim pickings,” she said. “And I never wanted to settle for
amiable male companionship. If that were the case, I would have married Dixon
Hunter when he proposed to me at the prom.”

“Oh yes. He was smitten with you,” Ryan mused. “Followed you
around as if he was a puppy dog hoping for bone, with those big brown eyes and
a sappy grin on his face. Never did take kindly to me carrying your books.”

“He was very sweet. As were you. But he never made my
stomach flip.”

Ryan was quiet a moment as he took another sip of wine. Then
his gaze locked with hers as he asked, “Do I make your stomach flip?”

“No,” she said. His face fell and she laughed. “You make
everything inside me practically incinerate, I get so hot and bothered. All you
have to do is look at me and liquid fire runs through my veins.”

His grin was nothing short of triumphant. “Now that’s more
like it.”

“Stop gloating. It’s unbecoming.”

She lifted her fork and dug into her linguine with clams.
They polished off their meals and a bottle of wine while chatting about high
school and how things had changed in Wilder since then.

“It’s not that your aunt and uncle are trying to keep
everyone under their thumbs,” she told Ryan, “but they do have a lot of
influence and tend to bend the rules to suit their purposes.”

He cleared away the dishes and rinsed them off before
putting them in the empty dishwasher. “I’ve been hearing that. And seeing it
too.” He washed his hands and turned back to her. “I’m not blind to it, Ginger.
I did live with them for a year. And while they were gracious hosts, I really
couldn’t wait to get out that house. It’s almost…oppressive.”

“I’m sure Lydia didn’t take well to hearing you were staying
at Reese’s.”

“No, she did not. But I found it much more comfortable at
the B&B.” He crossed to where she stood and suddenly swept her up in his
strong arms. “I like it here too.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her over
to the sofa in front of the tall fireplace and sat down with her in his lap.

“I like you here as well,” she told him. “Thanks for dinner.
It was fantastic.”

“Thanks for the wine.” He eyed her a moment, then added,
“And for the nightgown.”

“This old thing,” she scoffed playfully.

Tugging on one end of the bow below her breasts, he said,
“Let’s have a look-see.”

The robe fell open and she felt his entire body go rigid.

Ginger’s teeth clamped down on her lower lip, but for a
second. She couldn’t hold back the smile his lusty look brought to her face.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice tight. “Stop gloating. It’s
unbecoming.”

“I should be allowed this one time. I told you, I’ve never
worn this for anyone else.”

“In that case, you’re forgiven.”

The backs of his fingers grazed her throat and then moved
higher, over her jaw and to her temple where he pushed a few curls from her
face.

“You are absolutely breathtaking,” he told her.

His free arm draped over her shoulders as his fingers
continued to caress her skin at her temple.

Ginger cozied up to him and said, “Kiss me.”

He swallowed hard. “That’s exactly what I want to do. But so
you know, I won’t do anything
you
don’t want me to do.”

“You’re quite the knight in shining armor.”

“My parents taught me good manners.”

Ginger sighed. “I’m sorry about them.”

“Yours as well.”

She nodded. Then she leaned in close to him and brushed her
lips over his, the way he’d done earlier. The touch was simple, yet
electrifying. His fingers threaded through her long curls as he returned her
kiss, more skillfully, more demanding. She snaked an arm around him and pressed
her hand to his shoulder blade as her other palm flattened against his chest at
the opening of his shirt. His skin was warm and smooth and it felt so wonderful
beneath her fingers, Ginger had the overwhelming urge to undo the long line of
buttons.

With Ryan’s slow, hot, deep kiss, she gave into temptation
and slipped the first disk through its hole. The second one easily followed and
she slid her hand inside the flap to splay her palm over his well-defined pecs.
The muscles flexed beneath her touch and his arm around her shoulder tightened
their semi-embrace.

His fingers tangled in her hair released the strands and
moved to her upper thigh. He caressed her outer leg through the satin material
covering it as he continued to kiss her. When he finally dragged his mouth from
hers, it trailed over her jaw and down her throat. His hand on her leg eased
upward, over her hip and around the front of her to cup her breast.

Ginger started and sucked in a breath of air as the
thrilling sensation of his palm covering her breast jolted her.

Ryan lifted his head from her neck. “You okay?”

Rolling her eyes at her dismal lack of experience with a
man’s hands on her body, she said, “Sorry. No one’s ever touched me like that.”

“You’re a virgin?”

She nodded. “Of course. Hard not to be if you’re unwed in
this town.” Ryan let out a low grunt, prompting her to ask, “Is that a
problem?”

A sexy-as-sin smile spread over his lips. “You really think
I’d have a problem with the fact no other man has touched you or made love to
you?”

Warmth pooled low in her belly. But she said, “The flip side
is, I really have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” he told her with a wicked glint in his
eyes. “Between our great chemistry and your instincts, I think the heat levels’
climbing up the charts.”

She squirmed excitedly in his lap and felt his erection
against her hip. He shifted his arms and hooked one under the backside of her
knees. Lifting her slightly, he placed her on the cushion next to him, so she
lay against the plump pillows piled in the corner, while her legs draped over
his thighs, the midnight-blue satin covering the lower half of his body.

He propped himself up on one elbow alongside her as the other
hand skimmed over her thighs and across her belly, making her flesh quiver. His
fingers grazed her rib cage and then he palmed her breast, giving it a
scintillating squeeze.

As his thumb swept across her hard nipple through the lace
covering it, he kissed her neck and then her cheek and then, finally, her lips.

He kissed her provocatively as he pinched and rolled her
nipple before smoothing the pad of his thumb over it again. Tension coiled in
her stomach and her pussy ached for him. His fingers whisked aside the lace and
his mouth left hers to gently suckle her puckered nipple. Ginger moaned, low
and deep. Her fingers plowed through his hair and she held his head to her
breast as he alternately flicked his tongue over the taut peak and then drew it
into his mouth.

Her back arched and more of her throaty sounds bubbled up to
fill the room.

“Ginger,” he whispered against her skin, his warm breath
teasing her nipple. “God, you make me hot.”

She found this ironic, since he was the one making
her
burn with desire.

He kissed her again as his large hand slid behind the lace
that covered the other breast. He toyed with the tight bud, making it harder.
Ginger writhed beneath him as heat blazed through her body.

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