“All right.” Breathing fast, she leaned her forehead against his and realized she could do that without bumping into his Stetson. “Where’s your hat?”

  “Left it in the house.”

  “So we could do this?”

  “Yep.”

  “I admire your careful planning.”

  He chuckled. “Thought you might.”

  “Can I move yet?”

  “Almost.” He dragged in air. “Okay, go for it.”

  “Yee-haw.” With her knees braced against the chair and her hands clutching his shoulders, she rode him for all she was worth.

  His response thrilled her. He gasped, choked, and swore. When he let loose with a few F-bombs, she knew he was having a very good time.

  She came because she couldn’t help it. Knowing him, he’d probably waited for her, but when he finally let loose, it was epic. She’d remember his jubilant cries for a long time.

  When they finally stopped yelling, she took a deep breath and cupped his face in both hands. “Still want s’mores?”

  His eyes fluttered open. “Hell, yes. Tonight, I want it all.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The coals were perfect for toasting marshmallows. Zane turned his slowly to make sure it was golden brown on all sides. Mandy liked to catch hers on fire and blow it out.

  “It’s faster.” She was back in her chair and wearing her rubber ducky PJ bottoms again. “I’m already on my third and that’ll only be your second.”

  “Faster isn’t always better.”

  “You didn’t think so a while ago.”

  His cock stirred. He wasn’t ready for action, but he couldn’t help that slight twitch when he thought of Mandy giving him a wild ride. “Okay, sometimes faster is better. But not when you’re making s’mores.”

  “So you say.” She licked marshmallow off her fingers. No, she wasn’t simply licking. She was sucking.

  “Are you doing that on purpose?”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “It shouldn’t. It hasn’t been that long since we…yes, it bothers me.”

  “I should let you do it.” She glanced at him. “People eat food off each other all the time in X-rated movies.”

  “Put melted chocolate on yourself and I’ll take you up on the offer. I don’t like burned marshmallows.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Why?”

  “Yours is on fire.”

  “Shit!” He pulled it away from the coals and blew it out. He held the fork toward her. “Want it?”

  “Sure.” She quickly put a square of chocolate on a cracker, grabbed a second cracker and used the sandwich to pull off the blackened marshmallow. “This one’s squishier than mine.”

  “Because I took the time to let the inside heat up.”

  She pressed the crackers together and chocolate and marshmallow oozed out the sides. “I like it.” She ate around the edges so it wouldn’t drip. “Want some? It doesn’t taste too burnt.”

  “Okay.”

  She stretched her hand across the table. “Here, take it.”

  “Feed it to me.” He leaned toward her. “They do that in the X-rated movies, too.”

  “I think we’re supposed to be closer to make it sexy, but here.” She moved it next to his mouth. “Take a bite.”

  He took a big one just to make her laugh. He chewed and swallowed it. “Not bad. Not much of a charcoal taste at all.”

  “Told you. But if you were in an X-rated movie, you would have moaned a little while you were eating that.”

  “Feed me the rest of it, then.”

  She held it and he nibbled and moaned as if the taste was giving him an orgasm. Funny how pretending to be sexually aroused could lead to the real thing. His jeans were getting tight again.

  “That was pretty good. Now lick your lips.”

  He ran his tongue around his mouth and caught any stray crumbs.

  “Not like that. Like a porn star.”

  “You’d better show me.”

  “Here goes.” As she slowly circled her full lips with her tongue, her gaze traveled over him and came to rest on his fly.

  The implication was clear and his cock got the message. But a change of venue was required for what he had in mind.

  “See how that’s done?”

  “I sure do.” He reached for the fire pit’s mesh cover and set it over the dying coals. “You’ve given me an idea. Let’s go inside.”

  She smiled. “Is it part of our movie?”

  “Absolutely. It’ll fit right in.” He helped her out of her chair and took her hand as they went into the darkened living room. Instead of stopping there, he kept going and headed down the hall. A soft nightlight was shining in the bathroom. It would be just enough to see by.

  “Are we going to wash up?”

  “In a way. I just remembered something else they always have in those movies.” He drew her into the bathroom.

  “What?”

  “Shower sex.”

  “You are so right.” Grabbing his face in both of her sticky hands, she gave him a deep kiss with lots of tongue. Then she eased her mouth away from his. “I know this shower inside and out. I’ll take it from here.”

  She wasn’t kidding about putting herself in charge. She ordered him to strip while she turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. Her jacket and PJs came off fast and she pulled back the shower curtain. “After you.”

  He was fully erect as he stepped under the warm spray.

  “Turn around.”

  His back to the pelting drops, he gazed down at her.

  She had a washcloth in her hand. “First we get all squeaky clean. Stand still.”

  Like that would be possible. He managed to last about two minutes with her stroking that warm terrycloth over his body before he was in danger of coming. “Let me have that.” He took it from her. “Your turn.” He started with her breasts, and she arched her back with a soft whimper of delight.

  But she caught his wrist when he was about to slide the washcloth between her thighs. “If you go there, I know how this will turn out.” She struggled for breath. “I have a different ending in mind.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Let me show you.” Placing her hands on his chest, she held his gaze as she sank to her knees in the tub. “Now I make good on the porn star promise.”

  Damn, did she ever. His moans echoed in the tiled enclosure as he slid his fingers through her wet hair and held on for dear life. At the end, he threw back his head and bellowed. It was that good.

  He was ready to return the favor, but she talked him out of it.

  “Let’s dry off and go back to bed,” she murmured. “I want to snuggle.”

  He was all about snuggling. But he grabbed his jeans on the way out of the bathroom in case snuggling turned into something more active. He offered to fetch her brush while she finished drying her hair with a towel.

  When he came back, she’d lit the pressed log and had her back to it as she used the heat to help dry her hair. She’d leaned down and flipped her hair over her face to get the underside.

  He was rocketed back to a wintry day when they’d gone snowmobiling and had come to her house to warm up and dry off. She’d taken the same pose then, except she’d had on sweats and a t-shirt, the pink one she’d worn yesterday, in fact.

  If that afternoon stood out for her the way it did for him, he had a perfect way to test it. Putting down the brush, he sat in front of her. “Oh, my God, if it isn’t the Bride of Bigfoot.”

  She held onto her hair so it hung over her face, parted the strands and peeked out at him. “Aaaa-ooooo!”

  He smiled. “You remembered.”

  “Of course.” She used her fingers to comb her hair back from her face. “We were so into Bigfoot. And I still say we heard him out there in the forest.”

  “It was Ryker trying to scare us.”

  “No, after we knew it was him, there was another howl.”

  “The wind.”

  “It was Bigfoot. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Did you bring the brush?”

  “Right here.”

  She reached for it.

  He pulled it back. “Let me.”

  “You want to brush my hair?”

  “I’ve wanted to since we were little. Ryker convinced me boys aren’t supposed to like brushing a girl’s hair.”

  She turned her back to him. “He’s probably learned by now that big girls love to have big boys brush their hair. It’s a very sensuous experience.”

  “So I’m told.”

  “Although I should warn you it makes me sleepy.”

  “That’s okay. We can sleep if you want.”

  “That seems like a waste.”

  “I know.” He stroked the brush lazily through her hair. “But it’s not like you’re flying out tomorrow.”

  “No, but…we might not be able to spend the night together again before I leave.”

  “Or maybe we will. There’s that convenient path that leads to my cabin.”

  “Mm. True.” She sounded drowsy. “Zane, I’m starting to fall asleep. But I don’t want to.”

  “It’ll be fine. You’ll come to my cabin tomorrow night. Maybe Sunday night, too.”

  “I’d like that, but…make love to me once more, okay?”

  “I don’t know, Buttercup. You ask a lot of a guy.”

  “Oh. Then never mi –”

  “Kidding.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Laying down the brush, he took her by the shoulders. “Turn around and you’ll see how sure I am.”

  She scooted to face him and glanced down. Her gaze lifted to his. “All righty, then.” Flopping to her back, she waved a hand over her body. “I’m all yours.”

  Uh-oh. Until she’d said it, he didn’t know how much he wanted her to mean it. That made him a fool, because she had no intention of sticking around, no matter how great they were together.

  But he couldn’t resist showing her, yet again. He fished a condom out of his jeans pocket for the third time tonight. That was a personal record, and he wasn’t even counting shower sex.

  He moved between her thighs. “Please don’t expect anything fancy.”

  “You’re fancy without even trying.”

  “Oh, I’ve been trying. I wanted tonight to be special.”

  “So that triple climax followed by sex on the deck was designed to impress me?”

  “Were you impressed?” He eased into her warmth, heart pounding. This moment, when they were intimately joined, made him dizzy with gratitude.

  “Yes. Extremely impressed.”

  “Then it was all part of my master plan.”

  She wrapped her legs around his and pulled him in tight. Cupping his face in both hands, she smiled sweetly. “You are so full of it, Zane McGavin. How could you have a master plan when you didn’t know I would invite you over here?”

  “I can create master plans on the fly.”

  Her gaze searched his. “I actually believe that.”

  “Point for my side.” He rocked his hips. “But if you don’t turn me loose I won’t be able to satisfy your request.”

  “I know. I just like the feeling of being locked together. It’s cool.”

  He looked into her eyes. How could she not see that what they had was amazing? “About as close as two people can be.”

  “I never thought I’d be this close to you, though.”

  “Never?”

  “Not really. Did you?”

  “Well…”

  “Come on.” She tightened her thigh muscles. “Give.”

  “Remember the night of senior prom? Outside the gym?”

  “Of course.”

  “I was mad, but I was jealous, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. That idiot was touching you the way I’d secretly wanted to.”

  “You were jealous?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am surprised. We were just friends.”

  “That’s what I told myself whenever I looked at you.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “I wasn’t supposed to feel that churning in the pit of my stomach. You were Mandy, Buttercup, the person I’d known forever. Thinking of you that way seemed wrong. But I did, anyway.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “I might have after that scene outside the gym. I broke up with the girl I was going with right after that because I knew you were more important than she was. But before I could decide whether to say anything or do anything, you left.”

  “I had to.”

  “I know.” He focused on her eyes. “But I’m telling you now, because…maybe it’s important.”

  She gripped his shoulders as she met his gaze. “It is important.”

  “Mandy –”

  “But it doesn’t…it doesn’t change anything.”

  Damn it, he’d been afraid of that. “Right.” He swallowed his disappointment. He had her in his arms tonight, which was more than he’d ever expected. Kissing her gently, he vowed to be grateful. “Now turn me loose,” he murmured against her mouth, “so I can continue with my master plan.”

  When she relaxed her thighs, he slid both hands under her hips. Then he lifted her so he could catch her sweet spot with each thrust. If pleasure was all he could give her, then he’d learn to accept it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The scent of coffee woke Mandy at dawn. She was snuggled into a warm cocoon of blankets, but Zane must have managed to get up without waking her. She heard the soft thump of the refrigerator door close but otherwise the house was silent.

  Sliding off the mattress, she stood. The house was chilly because her mom had the thermostat programmed and the heat hadn’t kicked on yet. She grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped up in it.

  When she glanced out to the deck where they’d left their dishes the night before, they were gone. She must have been sound asleep if she hadn’t heard him cleaning up.

  She found him fully dressed standing in front of the kitchen counter. A jar of peanut butter, a jar of strawberry jam and the bread from last night explained the sandwich he was eating. A cup of steaming coffee sat on the counter beside him.

  “Looks good.” And she wasn’t only talking about the sandwich. A girl could get used to waking up to a broad-shouldered cowboy in her kitchen.

  He turned, still chewing. Then he swallowed. “Mornin’, Buttercup.” A shadow of a beard darkened his chin and his hair was mussed from sleep. The cowlick he usually tamed was sticking up.

  The cowlick reminded her of the boy she used to know, but the rest of him was all man. Looking at him sent little arrows of sensation to her lady parts. “Good morning to you.”

  Putting down the sandwich, he walked over and drew her into his arms. “I was trying not to wake you.”

  “Then you must be stealthy, considering you’ve cleaned up our dinner dishes and I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “I closed the kitchen door while I did that. It wasn’t fair to leave you with the mess.” He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss. “But I have to go in a bit. The critters need breakfast.”

  “And you’ll be on your own again.” She gave him a quick return kiss and wiggled out of his arms. “I’m going with you.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to.”

  “I know. I want to. Finish your sandwich and coffee while I throw on some clothes.”

  “At least have some coffee before we leave.”

  “No need. There are a couple of travel mugs in the cupboard over the stove. We can take it with us.”

  “Want a sandwich?”

  “I’d love it. I’ll be ready in no time!” Dashing out of the kitchen and back to her bedroom, she put on the jeans and boots her mom had loaned her, another of her teenage-era shirts and a jacket. She’d left her hat on the hall tree.

  She was on her way there when the mattress came sliding toward her with Zane pushing from behind.

  “Didn’t want to leave this in the living room. With the Whine and Cheese ladies in the neighborhood, no telling who will stop by here today.”

  “Good thinking.” She grabbed the end and guided it through her bedroom door. “I’ll get the covers.” She brought them in as he was adjusting the mattress on the box spring. She dumped the bedding on top in a heap. “That’ll do. We don’t have to make the bed. Let’s go.” She ushered him out and closed the door behind her.

  When she turned around he was facing her, blocking her way. “Did I forget something?”

  “No, I did.” He swept her into his arms and gave her a deep kiss flavored with coffee and peanut butter.

  She gripped his shoulders and hung on as the explosive passion she’d enjoyed last night ignited with breathtaking speed. Backing her against the wall, he nudged her thighs apart and thrust his hips forward with a groan of frustration.

  Need spiraled through her. Maybe…if they hurried…no, too crazy.

  He lifted his mouth and gulped for air. “Promise you’ll come by the cabin tonight.”

  “I will.” She struggled to breathe. “I promise.”

  “Thank you.” Chest heaving, he moved back. “That’ll get me through the day.”

  “Or make it seem longer.”

  He gave her a wry grin. “That, too. Come on. Let’s go feed us some critters.”

  Moments later she was in his truck with travel mugs in the cup holders. She didn’t trust herself to drink coffee on the dirt road leading out because of the ruts, so she ate her first bite of the PB and J he’d made for her. “Best. Sandwich. Ever.”

  He laughed. “When it comes to PB and J, I have skills.”

  “You certainly do. You got the ratio exactly how I like it, fifty-fifty. Not everyone does.”

  “Not everyone eats as many PJ and J sandwiches as I do, either.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “I have at least three or four a week, sometimes more if I’m busy.”

  “Me, too! It’s easy when you don’t feel like cooking just for yourself. If Mom comes to live with me, that’ll likely change, though.”

  “If?”

  “I have to be realistic. She won’t want to move anywhere while Aunt Kendra’s laid up.”