away.
She didn’t want to be a woman. Why couldn’t he understand that and leave her alone?
Creed’s strong hand cupped her jaw to turn her toward him. “Look at me, Brava.”
Cricket snapped her head around and glared at him, but his next words confirmed that he’d seen more of her distress than she’d wanted him to see.
“Ah, Brava, we make sparks together. You shouldn’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned,” he said in a voice harshened by subdued passion.
“I’ll kill you for this,” she spat.
“Then I might as well die a happy man,” he crooned, lowering his head toward her mouth.
“Stop! You can’t do this.”
“You don’t want me to kiss you?” he teased.
Cricket sizzled with mortification. “That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t finish what I’ve started.”
“Rip wants to talk with you.”
Creed’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said Rip left this morning.”
“I lied.”
“So why should I believe you now?”
“Rip knows who you are. He made me come out here to get you and invite you in to have some breakfast. Coffee. Eggs. Ham. Sausage. Flapjacks. Grits with butter. Biscuits with jalapeño jelly.”
Creed took a deep breath and, to Cricket’s amazement, actually licked his lips. It was true, she thought, what they said about a man and his stomach.
Creed eyed her doubtfully, but said, “I could sure use a good meal, so I’ll make a deal with you. You promise not to try to kill me, and I’ll release you and we’ll go have breakfast.”
Cricket brightened. “Okay.”
“Lift your arms up over my head,” he instructed.
Cricket could feel her breasts rising against Creed’s chest as her arms came to rest stretched up over her head in the straw. She relaxed completely beneath him, her body molding to his. As she looked up at him, her lips parted.
His eyes were hooded, his gaze intense.
“You can get up now,” she said. When Creed didn’t move she added, “Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m hungry,” he admitted. “But not for flapjacks.”
Cricket could feel the changes in him, the tension that tightened the muscles in his arms and thighs, the bulge that grew against her belly. His breathing harshened, and his heartbeat pounded erratically. She remained still beneath him, waiting. She knew he wanted her as a man wants a woman. So she waited to see whether she would want him as a woman wants a man.
But nothing happened.
Of course, she did feel that same scorching heat everywhere they touched that she’d felt when he’d been naked at the pond.
But the day was warm, the barn even warmer . . . and his skin was hot.
And she had the strangest urge to arch her back up into his hard chest.
But the straw was scratchy beneath her.
And her breats had gotten all swollen and pointy.
Obviously a result of the female miseries.
She felt a little relieved that the Ranger’s amorous advances hadn’t had any effect on her. What if she’d fallen under his spell?
Feeling safe from the threat that her “female nature” would betray her and subjugate itself to the Ranger, she allowed herself to speculate about what might have happened between them. She had to admit she was curious about the things men and women did together. Jarrett Creed had given her an opportunity she’d never thought to have, an opportunity to see what it felt like to lie beneath a man and to be kissed by that man.
His most recent kiss had been harsh and unforgiving, meant to punish. She’d liked the touch of his lips on her throat yesterday much better. They’d been so soft. As for the rest of his touches, well, aside from the ones that had bruised her, she hadn’t had enough of them to decide one way or the other. Perhaps if she lay still long enough, he would try again.
She held herself steady as Creed’s knuckles caressed her cheek. “I don’t know what game you’re playing this time, Brava, but what you’re offering is
She didn’t want to be a woman. Why couldn’t he understand that and leave her alone?
Creed’s strong hand cupped her jaw to turn her toward him. “Look at me, Brava.”
Cricket snapped her head around and glared at him, but his next words confirmed that he’d seen more of her distress than she’d wanted him to see.
“Ah, Brava, we make sparks together. You shouldn’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned,” he said in a voice harshened by subdued passion.
“I’ll kill you for this,” she spat.
“Then I might as well die a happy man,” he crooned, lowering his head toward her mouth.
“Stop! You can’t do this.”
“You don’t want me to kiss you?” he teased.
Cricket sizzled with mortification. “That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t finish what I’ve started.”
“Rip wants to talk with you.”
Creed’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said Rip left this morning.”
“I lied.”
“So why should I believe you now?”
“Rip knows who you are. He made me come out here to get you and invite you in to have some breakfast. Coffee. Eggs. Ham. Sausage. Flapjacks. Grits with butter. Biscuits with jalapeño jelly.”
Creed took a deep breath and, to Cricket’s amazement, actually licked his lips. It was true, she thought, what they said about a man and his stomach.
Creed eyed her doubtfully, but said, “I could sure use a good meal, so I’ll make a deal with you. You promise not to try to kill me, and I’ll release you and we’ll go have breakfast.”
Cricket brightened. “Okay.”
“Lift your arms up over my head,” he instructed.
Cricket could feel her breasts rising against Creed’s chest as her arms came to rest stretched up over her head in the straw. She relaxed completely beneath him, her body molding to his. As she looked up at him, her lips parted.
His eyes were hooded, his gaze intense.
“You can get up now,” she said. When Creed didn’t move she added, “Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m hungry,” he admitted. “But not for flapjacks.”
Cricket could feel the changes in him, the tension that tightened the muscles in his arms and thighs, the bulge that grew against her belly. His breathing harshened, and his heartbeat pounded erratically. She remained still beneath him, waiting. She knew he wanted her as a man wants a woman. So she waited to see whether she would want him as a woman wants a man.
But nothing happened.
Of course, she did feel that same scorching heat everywhere they touched that she’d felt when he’d been naked at the pond.
But the day was warm, the barn even warmer . . . and his skin was hot.
And she had the strangest urge to arch her back up into his hard chest.
But the straw was scratchy beneath her.
And her breats had gotten all swollen and pointy.
Obviously a result of the female miseries.
She felt a little relieved that the Ranger’s amorous advances hadn’t had any effect on her. What if she’d fallen under his spell?
Feeling safe from the threat that her “female nature” would betray her and subjugate itself to the Ranger, she allowed herself to speculate about what might have happened between them. She had to admit she was curious about the things men and women did together. Jarrett Creed had given her an opportunity she’d never thought to have, an opportunity to see what it felt like to lie beneath a man and to be kissed by that man.
His most recent kiss had been harsh and unforgiving, meant to punish. She’d liked the touch of his lips on her throat yesterday much better. They’d been so soft. As for the rest of his touches, well, aside from the ones that had bruised her, she hadn’t had enough of them to decide one way or the other. Perhaps if she lay still long enough, he would try again.
She held herself steady as Creed’s knuckles caressed her cheek. “I don’t know what game you’re playing this time, Brava, but what you’re offering is
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