in desperation, her thighs quivered with the hot flash of impending release. She gasped, whimpered.
Tears came to her eyes as the pulsating demand for more had her almost begging. She wanted to beg.
She wanted to plead with him, here, now.
“My house.” She saw the surprise flare in his eyes. “My bed.”
He smiled slow and sure, approval reflecting in his expression. His fingers pulled free of her body with a slow, regretful motion. He carefully tucked the silk of her panties back over her protesting cunt, watching her intently as he did so. He stood to his feet; a slow, graceful movement that made her breath catch in her throat. Then he was holding his hand out to her, watching her carefully. She placed her hand in his, allowing him to draw her to her feet, then lead her slowly from the bar and into the starry night.
His hand rode low on her back, never breaking contact with her. His broad chest brushed against her as they walked, she had never been so aware of another man’s body next to her. Even years ago, he had done this to her. Made her frighteningly aware of her femininity, her weakness and his strength.
“Did you bring your car?” he asked her as he led her into the dark parking lot. He kept his hand at her back, moving her to the jeep with the trademark August Ranch logo on the side.
“No. Cab.” She could barely speak; the need pulsed so heavy in her body.
When they moved to the side of the jeep, she gasped harshly as he suddenly turned her, pressing her into the side of the vehicle.
“Six years,” he bit out, lifting her against him as his head lowered. “Six f**king years, Sarah.”
His voice was tormented, his lips were hot, hard as they covered hers, his tongue sinking into her mouth as he wedged his erection hard against the soft pad of her cunt.
Sarah’s self-control was never at its best with Brock. She cried into his kiss, her hands locking desperately into his hair as she fed on his passion. Their tongues twined together, licking at each other, groaning in their need. He ground his pelvis against her, his c**k a hard, throbbing heat beneath the jeans that separated them.
“I could take you here,” he growled. “I should.”
His lips and teeth were nipping at her jaw, then her neck.
“I should rip those panties from you and f**k you now before you have a chance to beg me not to.” His voice was rough, hungry. Sarah had never heard such a sensual sound in her life.
She moved against him, her head falling back as his lips went to the neckline of her dress, caressing the swollen mounds of her br**sts. She didn’t care. He could take her anywhere he wanted to, it didn’t matter as long as she got his c**k inside her, deep, hard, sating the hunger that had tormented her for so long.
“So soft, Sarah.” His raspy voice was a low, agonized groan. “So soft and sweet. God baby, if you’re not serious about this, tell me now. Tell me, Sarah, because I don’t know if I can stop later.”
He raised his head to stare down at her, the dark, gray-blue eyes were heavy lidded, his face shadowed, his breathing rough.
Sarah raised her hand to touch his lips, feeling the exciting warmth, the swollen curves that tempted her as nothing else could.
“Take me home, Brock,” she whispered. “Take me home to my bed. I want you there with me, all night.”
The silence of the night was filled with nothing now but their harsh breaths, their needs.
“I won’t let you go tonight,” he growled. “All night, Sarah. I’ll keep my c**k buried in you all night long.”
She took a deep, hard breath. “The night is moving fast, Brock. If we waste any more time, that won’t be for long.”
He moved fast. He jerked the door to the jeep open and helped her quickly inside before closing her door carefully and moving quickly to his own. The jeep started and within seconds he was pulling quickly from the driveway.
Heavy intent lined his expression, tautened his powerful body. They rode in silence, and as each minute drew them closer to her house, Sarah realized the ache in her body only grew. Grew until it was a hunger, a need, something she was terrified she would never be free of.
CHAPTER THREE
Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was the fact that today she had signed away the last six years of her life. She had finally convinced Mark to sign the divorce papers. Waiting until he was furious, outraged at the fact he believed he had finally gone through the last penny of her inheritance. He wasn’t aware he had only gone through the portion bequeathed to her by her mother. Or maybe it was the fact that Brock was so dangerous, so sexual, so intensely male that she just couldn’t forget, nor resist his touch any longer.
She had spent her adult life so far fighting the attraction, the need, until she was weak, starved for his kiss and his touch as she had never starved for anything.
Whatever the reason, Sarah found herself letting them both into her home late that night, and trying to stem the attack of nerves that left her hands shaking. Could she satisfy him? Of course, she knew it wasn’t possible. But she knew she would try. She knew she had to.
“You’re trembling.” Brock August took the keys from her fingers and laid them on the small antique desk just inside the door.
Sarah shrugged. Why was she shaking? It wasn’t like she was a virgin with her first man. Or was she?
Brock August was definitely not in her league, so wouldn’t that qualify as a cherry of sorts? She stifled her runaway laughter at that thought.
“I’m not used to bringing men home with me,” she finally sighed as she turned and faced him. Damn, he was gorgeous.
Sensual knowledge glittered in his eyes, sexual intent lit the banked fires that were said to burn hot and bright. Rumors of his sexual prowess, his carnal desires had been running rampant through Madison for years. Sarah was under no illusions that she could hold this man’s attention longer than it would take for him to cl**ax and walk back out of her life. But the illusion he gave her satisfied her need to believe, just for a little while.
“Women perhaps?” He angled his head as he asked the question, watching her curiously.
Sarah felt the heat that seared her face at his question.
“No,” she bit out. “Not women. Why would you ask me something like that?”
He sighed, a small smile quirking his lips.
“You are a very beautiful woman, Sarah. There are no rumors of you taking lovers, or wild weekends, despite your husband’s infidelities. I was merely curious if you had a female ‘friend’ instead.” He stressed the friend part. The look in his eyes said the thought would do little to dampen his desire. Sarah had a feeling it would only heighten it.