Read Online Down Home Dixie by Pamela Browning - Free Book Online Page B

too. He wanted this woman, and he wasn’t of a mood to wait. Luckily, as if guided by the same need, she reached for him blindly at the same time as he reached for her, and his arms closed gratefully around her as her lips found his. Soft lips, knowing lips, lips that erased all thought of conventional behavior.
    After that, he couldn’t have said what hit him. One minute they were merely kissing, then it was as if the Pine Hollow Lake Dam burst, unleashing a flood of passion.
    â€œDixie,” he said unsteadily as she feverishly began to unbutton his shirt, “are you sure you’re ready for this?”
    Her eyes were solemn but held a glint of merriment. She was enjoying these proceedings, he realized with surprise. Not just accepting and following his lead but playing an active part in his seduction, and all the while, he’d intended to seduce her. The idea amused him so that he chuckled at about the time that she unbuttoned his pants and unzipped the zipper.
    Her gaze met his, but her fingers stayed busy. “What’s funny about this, Yankee?” she asked lightly.
    â€œI’ve been planning how to get you in the sack since last night,” he said in all honesty.
    She laughed. “Would it surprise you if I told you I’d been trying to figure out the same thing? Like how to lure you upstairs to the bedroom without seeming overly forward?”
    He nuzzled her throat just below her jawline. “And then what happened? To make you go at me like Pickett’s Charge?”
    â€œIt was the cherry-vanilla ice cream. Does it every time.” She feathered a line of kisses across his chest, her breath hot against his skin.
    â€œRemind me of that later, in case we want to repeat this.” He couldn’t wait to see her lying back against white sheets, her hair arrayed on the pillow in a shimmer of gold. There would be candles lit in anticipation of a romantic mood, and the scent of lavender rising from the sheets, and all the time in the world to learn about each other’s bodies.
    But again she surprised him. As they strewed various items of intimate clothing behind them, she led him into a small room off the hall between kitchen and living room.
    â€œHave you ever made love in a sewing room?” she asked without the least bit of coyness.
    â€œNo, but I can manage,” he replied unsteadily.
    â€œGood, because it takes too long to get upstairs.”
    The room was furnished with a stack of boxes, miscellaneous items recently unpacked, sewing paraphernalia and a pile of plump quilts in the corner. While he fumbled in his wallet for the necessary packet, she reached down and flicked the quilts into an inviting pile. There was no candlelight and no scent of lavender, but Kyle didn’t mind one bit.
    When she’d arranged the quilts to her satisfaction, his arms clasped her to him, his hands moving on to explore every fascinating bit of body topography. Breasts, check. Nipples, double-check. Curve of waist, slope of hips, check.
    â€œKyle.” Her voice was low, throaty.
    â€œMmm,” he said, inhaling her scent. It reminded him of wildflowers, of a grassy field after a spring rain. It made him delirious with desire.
    â€œJust. One. Thing.”
    â€œWhat?” Indeed, what. What could be so important that Dixie had to talk right now?
    â€œProtection.”
    â€œWay ahead of you. I’m on it.”
    â€œIt’s on you is what you mean.”
    Without wasting a second, holding his gaze with her own, she eagerly pulled him down on top of her and buried her face in his chest as their naked limbs settled into accommodating patterns. His arms tightened around her as he took care to keep his weight balanced on his elbows. With skin pressed against skin, she seemed so delicate, her bones so exquisitely formed, and they fit perfectly together, her curves molding incredibly to his angles.
    â€œI wanted you the first moment I saw you, but I