Her Montana Man

He tipped her chin up. “Chelsea?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m comfortable.”

He heaved a breath as if he’d been unsure of her answer. “I’m not. I’m burning up.”

With a grin that caused her heart to flip, he pushed the shirt and bra off her shoulders until they fell to the floor. His eyes darkened as he stared at her.

Her breasts were flushed, the tips a dusky pink. Passion’s bloom, he had once called the telltale rosy hue her body took on when he caressed her intimately. She’d been embarrassed at the obvious signs of passion when they’d first become lovers.

The smart of tears surprised her as she remembered how sweetly reassuring he’d been, how he’d encouraged her to show the need, to tell him what she wanted. It had been a thrilling time of mutual exploration and discovery of the passionate side of nature.

He quickly stripped his shirt off and moved closer until he could brush her nipples, teasing her with slow dry strokes of wiry hairs across her as he had earlier with the wet caresses of his tongue.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head until she could feel the brush of her hair along her back. Holding on to his powerful shoulders, she let inhibitions go and gloried in the tactile sensations of touch.

When her knees went weak, she swayed against him, her body curving into his as naturally as a willow bending before the wind.

“Wait,” Pierce said huskily. He shucked his clothing, then helped her get out the rest of her things. They fell onto the bed as one.

Then there was skin against skin as their arms and legs entwined naturally, in ways never forgotten.

He knew there was danger in her embrace, but it didn’t matter—not now. If there was a price to pay for this moment, he’d worry about it tomorrow.

“So sweet,” he murmured, taking her lips in a thousand kisses that fed a part of him he didn’t know was starving. “And so dangerous.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but so good. I’ve never forgotten how good it was.”

Stroking intimately, he found she was ready. So was he. He rolled over her lithe form, settling between her thighs as she opened to him, her eyes on his face, shining with trust as well as need.

It gave him pause, then he whispered, “Take me in you.”

As if it had been hours rather than years, he merged his body with hers. As she shifted to accommodate him, he realized she was experiencing some discomfort.

Puzzled, he stopped. “Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

Which didn’t tell him a thing. “It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it?” he asked, feeling his way through the moment.

She closed her eyes. “Yes. Don’t talk.”

When she wrapped herself around him and urged him deeper, he couldn’t hold back. He sank into the smooth hot depths, a shudder rippling over him as he held back the too-ready climax. He wanted hours with her…hours…

Chelsea gasped when he carefully started moving, bringing her back to passionate intensity with his lips and his hands. Flames danced through her as she touched him in all the places he liked. She savored hearing his breath catch and his heart pound when she grew bold with her caresses.

He laid his head on the pillow beside hers. “Wait,” he whispered. “We’re going too fast.”

“I want you…now.”

Catching her hands, he kissed the tip of her nose, a funny smile on his mouth. It was almost sad.

“You were always impatient,” he scolded good-naturedly. He tousled her hair. “A little redheaded, green-eyed ginger cat who wanted it all right away.”

“You wanted it to last,” she said, remembering their ardent love play, rich with the nuances that flowed between lovers.

His low laughter filtered through her like dappled sunlight on water, warm and sparkling. “We can have both,” he murmured, then proceeded to show her.

With sure touches that spoke of their experiences long ago, he brought her to pleasure so intense she cried out in shocked delight. He smothered her cries with kisses and his own panting efforts at control. When at last she lay still beneath him, he turned them to the side and smoothed the damp clinging tendrils from her face.

With her nose snuggled against his chest, she floated in some peaceful sphere where nothing touched her—not doubts or worries or anything of a mundane nature.

She murmured contentedly when he began moving again. It had always amazed her how quickly she could respond again when she was in his arms.

“I want you again,” she told him in wonder. “How can I want you again so soon?”

“Because,” Pierce said, and rolled over her, finding the sweet nest between her thighs. “I won’t be able to stop this time,” he warned as the banked passion flared with astounding speed.

She opened her eyes, dark green now with passion. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He breathed deeply when she moved against him, away, then arched up to meet his downward thrust. His mind glazed over as the hunger took hold.

At her whimpering gasp of need, he thrust deeper.

He guided her hand between them, encouraging her to ride the tide between them while he plunged into the hot center of her, nearly going over the edge but managing to hold it together until she cried out as the pleasure overcame all other senses. He thrust once more and went into the mindless abyss with her.

It was a long time before either of them moved.

The tick of the clock finally penetrated the haven where he drifted in perfect peace. The ringing of the telephone jarred the tranquility of the afternoon. He reached past her shoulder, picked up the receiver and held it to her ear.

“Uh, Chelsea, this is Kelly.”

Chelsea stiffened as reality forcefully returned. “Hi, Kelly,” she said, using her friend’s name to warn Pierce to be silent.

“Fran is looking for Pierce,” Kelly said. “She’s his secretary. She says he had a meeting at two. She called me when he didn’t show up or answer his phone or beeper.”

Chelsea was intensely aware that his head was pressed to hers so he could hear the conversation. She looked a question at him. He shook his head.

“Should I go over to his house and see if he’s there?” Chelsea asked.

Kelly didn’t reply for a heartbeat. “Uh, no. I was hoping he was at your place.” She laughed. “Actually, I thought you two might be…uh, how should I put this—in the sack? The sparks were flying from more than the fireworks last night.”

The blood rushed to Chelsea’s head so fast she went dizzy. “Don’t get any ideas,” she advised her friend, and carefully kept her gaze from Pierce. “I’ll tell him you’re looking for him. If I see him.”

“Okay, thanks. By the way, I’m having a birthday dinner for Mom Saturday night. That’s tomorrow. You’re to come.”

They said goodbye and hung up. When she glanced at Pierce, he seemed deep in thought. She squirmed to remind him he was nearly lying on her.

Muttering a curse, he sat up. “I’m supposed to be at a meeting.” He flung on clothing as fast he could.