Page 54 of Rags's Awakening
He took her hand again and led her to the barn.
Inside, the late-afternoon sun filtered through the slats, thin rays catching drifting dust motes. The air smelled of sweet hay and warm wood.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, pulling her hand free and stepping back.
“To show you the barn.” His lips quirked.
“And…?”
Staring intently at her, something flickered in his expression—tight, strained, vulnerable in a way she’d never seen on him. Then, fast as a lightning strike, he grabbed her, pulling her into his arms, bending down to crash his mouth against hers. One hand held the back of her head; the other pressed her against him.
She gasped against his mouth, then melted into him, arms sliding around his neck, kissing him back with everything she’d been denying. Their tongues collided, tangled as sparks raced down her spine. Her breasts flattened against his hard chest as he crushed her closer, their bodies molding, heat crashing through her.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, voice ragged.
He trailed his lips to her throat, kissing the hollow, then up her neck in slow, maddening strokes. His hands slid down to cup her ass as he tugged her earlobe between his teeth and sucked gently.
“Rags…” she moaned, fingers burying in his hair.
“Fuck, Casey,” he rasped.
His hand slid under her top, fingers skating up her stomach until he found the thin fabric of her bra. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, gentle and deliberate, while his tongue traced fire along her neck.
Heat pulsed between her legs. A whimper slipped out before she could stop it.
“You like that, darlin’?” he murmured, his low, husky voice sliding over her.
“Rags, I don’t think—”
“Just feel,” he whispered. “We both want this.”
“It’s going too fast—”
He swallowed her words with a fierce kiss, his hand tightening on her breast, thumb circling, drawing another breathy sound from her. Her pulse hammered as his mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, then back to the spot beneath her ear that nearly made her knees buckle.
“Rags…” she breathed, her fingers gripping the back of his shirt, trying to pull him closer even as her brain scrambled for sense.
He rested his forehead against hers. “Fuck, baby… you have no idea what you do to me.”
She opened her mouth—whether to agree or argue, she didn’t know—when a sharp metallicclankechoed outside.
“Hey, Rags! You in there?”
Rags stiffened against her, muscles going rigid beneath her hands.
“Fuck,” he muttered against her mouth, his hand still under her top.
The barn door creaked open, a sliver of bright light slicing in.
“Rags? Prez needs you—”
He spun her behind him so fast she gasped. “Back off,” he snarled. “Give me a fuckin’ minute.”
The shadow in the doorway hesitated, then muttered, “Hurry your ass up,” as his footsteps retreated across the dirt.
Silence settled again, thick and charged.
Her breath was uneven, her lips swollen from the taste of him, her body still pulsing with heat.
