Fannin's Flame. Tina Leonard

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СКАЧАТЬ a story for another time. Come on. I need to get you warm. Easy up the hill,” he said, more carrying her than letting her walk.

      “I’m fine, Fannin. I can walk. Really.”

      “Yeah, but it feels good to push on your behind. Unprofessional, but we’re outside of working hours. Right?”

      She giggled. “I guess so.” The feel of his hands all over her was too good to complain about, anyway. He made her feel dainty.

      “In fact, I’m grateful to that evil deer. Without him, I wouldn’t be having this much fun.”

      He helped her into the truck, tucking a blanket around her legs. As promised, Joy was nestled into his jacket, completely undisturbed by the excitement her mother had just suffered. “Thank you,” Kelly said. “I’m perfect now.”

      Nodding, he said, “You were perfect from the start.”

      And then he leaned in to kiss her, just a soft kiss, but it started fireworks in her heart. Kelly groaned, wishing she didn’t feel her self-control slipping, but she did and she wanted more. Suddenly, the redhead inside of her took over as she turned her legs to the edge of the seat and locked them around his waist.

      “Kiss me, cowboy,” she said. “Kiss me like you’re on fire for me.”

      “I think I burst into flames when I had my hand on your butt,” he said before kissing her hard. “I know parts of me were definitely not feeling the wind chill.”

      She moaned, a sigh of pleasure, but he pulled away to look into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not hurting anywhere?”

      Only my heart, she thought, and then she pulled him back to her mouth. “I want you,” she said against his lips.

      He stiffened with surprise, but only for a second. Then he shoved her skirt up her legs, rubbing her thighs above her knee-high boots. “Are you sure? You’re okay with this?”

      I’m as okay with this as any thirty-year-old redheaded, six-foot woman could ever be. She had hot, horny cowboy between her legs—he was such a strong man—she’d never be in this fantasy again in her whole life. “I know I’m not what you ordered, but—”

      “Forget what I ordered. I’d say you more than meet the requirements,” he said gruffly, unbuttoning her ladylike sweater. “You’re too beautiful for words. You should always wear sweaters.”

      She giggled, slightly nervous about her size. He unsnapped her red bra from the back and then buried his face in her breasts as if he hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks, and Kelly relaxed, throwing her head back, gasping as he feasted. She ran her fingers over his shoulders, burying them in his hair and knocking his hat to the ground.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, but he stopped her apology and awkwardness by kissing her until she was breathless. A storm rose inside her, and she squeezed her eyes shut until she felt his fingers stroking inside her thighs, creeping inside her red thong. She was slick, and that was embarrassing, so she shifted, trying to pull her legs together so he wouldn’t find out. But he did. And he groaned, loud, deep, and Kelly stiffened, wondering if he was disappointed. Turned off.

      But he slipped his fingers inside her, his mouth all over hers, his tongue licking inside her, and all Kelly could do was hang on to him as he pushed her to some edge she’d never been to before. Wave after wave of pleasure hit her, freezing her unexpectedly, making her cry out against his mouth.

      He moved his hands to shove his jeans down, but he didn’t remove his mouth from hers. In fact, he seemed to kiss her harder, as if he needed her for his very breath. She heard something like paper tearing, and Fannin muttered, “It’s old, but please, let it still have staying power,” and the next thing she knew, he’d moved his hands to her hips and was slowly pulling her thong down her thighs. She didn’t make him do any more of the work after the thong left his hands. Moving to the very edge of the seat, she took hold of him, guiding him to her opening. He groaned again, that deep sound she loved, and then he entered her, his own passion making him thrust eagerly.

      Stars of pain blinded her, but she didn’t cry out. She clutched his shoulders tighter, wrapping her strong legs tightly around him, loving the feel of his passion for her. Tears came to her eyes and fell down her cheeks, but they were soaked up by the flannel of his shirt.

      And then he cried out, a sound unlike anything she’d ever heard. When he slumped against her, she cradled his head to her. “Fannin?” she whispered after a moment.

      “Mmm?”

      “Are you all right?”

      He kissed her lips tenderly. “Yeah. You?”

      She was sore but happy. “Fine.”

      “You’re pretty resilient for a woman who drove down an embankment.”

      She smiled into his eyes. “I come from sturdy stock.”

      “I’ll say.”

      Her gaze lowered as she remembered her mother. What would she think if she saw her daughter throwing herself at a Jefferson male like this—any man, for that matter? Slowly, she reclasped her bra and buttoned her sweater while he pulled his own clothes together.

      “I…can’t find your, um—”

      “It’s okay,” she said quickly, not wanting him to mention her thong. Rearranging her skirt, she pulled her knees forward into the cab.

      He shut the door.

      Kelly closed her eyes. Oh, Lord. Fannin was everything she’d ever wanted in a dream-come-true sexual fantasy. Of course. That’s what her mother had said: the Jefferson men had that effect on women. She remembered the stories. Desperate women. All wanting exactly what she’d wanted. The brothers acted like horses’ patoots, and the women chased them down anyway, so they never had to change their ways. An occasional brother got caught, but not often.

      Fannin was going to be very unhappy when he discovered who she was.

      And now, with her car in the ditch, she couldn’t back out and go on her merry, anonymous way.

      Chapter Three

      “Fannin,” Kelly said, her voice tight. But Fannin held up a hand, then started the truck.

      “Hang on,” he said.

      They sat and listened. He could feel Kelly staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “I thought I heard something.”

      “Maybe it was my conscience ticking,” she said. “Fannin, I should have told you this sooner—”

      “That’s what I thought.” He grinned at her.

      “What’s what you thought?”

      “Hear that sound?”

      “No…”

      The low, roaring sound backed up behind them. He whipped around to peer out the back window. “That would be your rescue party.”

      “My rescue party?”

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