Safe In The Rancher's Arms: Stranded with the Rancher / Sheltered by the Millionaire / Pregnant by the Texan

Some mysterious constriction in his chest eased. He picked up a curl that lay on her shoulder. “So soft,” he muttered.

“Do you still want me?”

“Oh, yes.” Slowly, he unbuttoned her top. She’d had the foresight to remove her bra already. Soon nothing stood between him and the lush female flesh waiting to be touched, stroked, mapped with every hill and valley noted.

Beth seemed frozen, barely breathing. She watched him, eyes downcast, as he traced her collarbone, played lightly with her tight nipples, lifted and plumped her soft breasts. He was trying his damnedest to go slow. But when she closed her eyes and shuddered, he almost lost it.

Gently, he tugged at the cotton shirt until it slid down her arms. He pulled it free and tossed it out of the shower. “Come inside,” he said hoarsely. “We’re getting the bathroom floor wet.”

His prosaic request sounded awkward to his ears. But coherent speech was difficult if not impossible. All the blood in his body had run south, leaving him lightheaded and perilously lost to reason.

Beth looked up at him. She laid a hand, palm flat, against his stubbly cheek. “Will you wash my hair?” she asked. Her big shadowy eyes held secrets...feminine wiles. She was so close to him their thighs brushed. His sex throbbed against her belly, eager to see action.

“Of course,” he said gruffly. “Turn around.”

Her creamy skin was flawless. Until now, he had never realized that shoulder blades could be sexy. But when they pointed the way to a nipped-in waist and a butt shaped to fit a man’s hands, the view was mouthwatering. He kissed the nape of her neck before reaching for a plastic bottle. His shampoo was scented with pine. He had a feeling that from tonight forward, this particular smell was going to provoke a Pavlovian response.

Easing her backward a step, he covered her eyes with his hand and directed the stream of water until it darkened and straightened her thick, vibrant hair. When every strand was soaked, he adjusted the spray in the opposite direction and pulled her flush against him until her bottom nestled in the cradle of his thighs.

It was a very perverse form of self-torture, but things got worse when he began rubbing soapy liquid into her hair. His fingers caressed her scalp. Beth groaned—a sexy, visceral sound that tightened every muscle in his body despite the warm shower. It was the most effective form of foreplay he had ever tried.

Beth seemed to be enjoying it, but more to the point, the gentle massage actually sent his libido into a state of high alert. He reached around her with both arms and slid his hands across slick breasts. Was she panting, or was it he?

It occurred to him—despite his mental faculties being sluggish—that the sooner he finished this project, the sooner he’d have Beth in his bed where he wanted her. Exercising admirable control, he returned to the task at hand and began rinsing her hair. Tiny soap bubbles clung to his fingers, even as strands of dark gold wound themselves around his wrists.

Beth remained silent. Since he was behind her, he couldn’t see her expression. Finally, after interminable minutes, he decided his job was complete. He had to clear his throat to speak. “All done,” he said.

She turned slowly, her lips curved in a smile of feminine amusement. “You have hidden talents, Mr. Farrell.”

“I’m only getting started.”

“That’s nice to know.” The air that surrounded them was thick with moisture and charged with anticipation.

Without asking for permission, she reached for the soap and a washcloth. Something about the lazy movements of her hands as she rubbed the plain white bar against the navy cotton square mesmerized him. “I think I was already clean before you joined me,” he pointed out, eager to move things along.

Beth reached up to kiss him, her lips clinging just long enough to drive him insane.

“I should make sure you didn’t miss any spots,” she whispered. “Put your hands behind your neck and spread your legs.”

He obeyed instinctively. Compliance was a foregone conclusion.

Without realizing it, he closed his eyes. When Beth touched him on the upper thigh, he flinched...hard. Her husky laugh sent desire raging through his veins. “Hell, Beth. Warn a guy, why don’t you?”

Warm, rough strokes were her answer. Somehow she managed to avoid his erection. She dragged the wet, soapy cloth over and around his thighs and between his legs. His teeth dug so hard into his lower lip he tasted the tang of blood.

“Enough,” he groaned.

“If you say so.” She aimed the water at his abdomen, creating a waterfall that cascaded down his groin. In some dim, barely reasoning corner of his brain, he registered the fact that his next water bill was going to be outrageous.

Without warning, slender fingers closed around his shaft. Holy hell. He was so close to coming that his vision blurred.

With her free hand, she stroked his chest. “Don’t fight it, Drew,” she whispered. “Let go. Enjoy.”

He grabbed her close, clutching her against him as he came with an audible groan that encompassed shock, amazement and physical nirvana.

* * *

Beth scarcely knew herself. It had taken great courage to invade Drew’s privacy impetuously. But earlier today, they had turned up the heat. The wanting and needing had remained on a slow boil all afternoon and evening. It was only her stubbornness that had caused the rift.

Drew wanted to do everything he could for her. He was generous to a fault. And even Beth acknowledged that providing assistance to those in need should not always be predicated on whether or not the recipient deserved the help.

But Audie was a different story. Beth had been burned too many times in the past to believe that her brother had really changed. She loathed the idea of Drew taking a peek into her life, her gene pool. How could he look at Audie and not make some judgments about Beth, even if they were unconscious?

Since she didn’t want to get into complicated explanations of why she wanted to keep Drew far away from her brother, she did the next best thing. She let Drew see how much she wanted him, and how far she was willing to go.

Even in the aftermath of an impressive orgasm, he was quick on the uptake. He hustled them both out of the shower and made her stand still while he dried her from head to toe with a thick towel. Remaining passive beneath his touch was no hardship. His gentle care was at once soothing and arousing.

“Open your eyes, Beth.”

She obeyed reluctantly, fearing what she might see on his face. Taking the lead in sex the way she had in the shower was not her M.O. Some men would not like the tables being turned. It was programmed into male DNA to be the pursuer.

Drew stared at her, his eyes glittering with unveiled hunger. “I applaud your inventive enthusiasm, but this next time I’m not leaving you behind.”

“I can live with that.”

He scooped her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. She had been so nervous going into this that his masculine domain had barely registered. Now, particularly after he turned on a small lamp on the chest, she saw a room that was both elegant and comfortable.

The navy carpet alone was hedonistic. Thick and soft, it invited toes to flex in its luxury. The bed was massive, a dark mahogany four-poster king covered in ivory damask. There was nothing remotely feminine about the decorating scheme, but Beth fell in love with the ambiance.

Drew appeared to hesitate for a moment. She looked up at him. “Is there a problem?”

His lips curled in a smile that sent shivers down her spine. “Not at all. I was merely counting up how many times and ways I want to take you and where to start.”

Her mouth dried. Feverish and needy, she raked her fingernails across his shoulder. “Swear you mean that.”

“Every word.”

Dumping her on her feet without ceremony, he threw back the covers and ripped open a drawer in the bedside table to find protection. The handful of packets he dropped on the tabletop was impressive.

He crooked a finger, his flash of white teeth wicked. “It’s your turn now, little tease. Prepare to be ravished.”

Without protest, she allowed him to draw her toward a mattress that seemed a mile wide. She shrieked when he lifted her without warning and tossed her onto soft sheets. Scrambling to appear worldly rather than awkward and ungainly, she curled on her side and pulled a corner of the sheet over her.

With one quick jerk of his hand, her modesty was history. “Don’t hide from me, Beth.”

“I wasn’t.”

His knowing smile acknowledged her lie. “Put your hands behind your neck and spread your legs.”