Buckhorn Beginnings by Lori Foster Read Free Book Online Page B

swallow another pill.
    She warmed even more as she allowed her eyes to drink in the sight of him. Oh, she was awake now. Wide-awake. Sawyer had that effect on her, especially when he was more naked than not, available to her scrutiny. He was a strong man, confident, even arrogant in his abilities. But there was an innate gentleness in his touch, and an unwavering serenity in his dark eyes.
    The muscles of his chest and shoulders were exaggerated by the long shadows. She felt cool in the rainy, predawn morning, yet he looked warm and comfortable in nothing more than his jeans. His abdomen, hard and flat, had a very enticing line of downy black hair bisecting it, dipping into those low-fitting jeans. Her heart rate accelerated, her fingers instinctively curling into the sheets as she thoughtabout touching him there, feeling how soft that hair might be and how hard the muscles beneath it were.
    One of his elbows was propped on the arm of the chair, offering a fist as a headrest. His other arm dangled off the side of the chair, his hand open, his fingers slack. He was deeply asleep, and even in his relaxed state his body looked hard and lean and too virile for a sane woman to ignore. He appeared exhausted, and no wonder after caring for her all night. She studied his whisker-roughened face a moment, then gave in to temptation and visually explored his body again. A soft sigh escaped her.
    She needed a drink. She needed the bathroom. But she could be happy just lying there looking at him for a long, long time.
    â€œG’mornin’.”
    With a guilty start, her attention darted back to his face. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his thick black lashes at half-mast, his dark gaze glittering at her. Honey closed her own eyes for a moment, trying to get her bearings. His voice had been low, sleepy, sexy.
    Ahem. “Good morning.” The words, which she’d meant to be crisp, sounded like a faint, rusty impersonation.
    Sawyer tilted his head. “Throat still sore?”
    She nodded, peeking a glance at him and quickly looking away again. “You’re, ah, pinning my blankets down.”
    She heard the amusement in his tone when he murmured, “Yeah, I know.”
    Then he dragged his feet off the bed and stood andstretched—right there in front of her, putting on an impressive display of flexing muscle and sinew and masculine perfection. Without even thinking about it, she rolled to her back to watch him, keeping her blankets high.
    With one arm over his head, she saw the dark silky hair beneath his arm, the way his biceps bulged, and she heard his growled rumble of pleasure. As he stretched, his abdomen pulled tighter and the waistband of his jeans curled away from his body. Her vision blurred. He ran both hands through his hair and over his face, then he smiled.
    She tried to smile back, she really did. But then he scratched his belly, drawing her gaze there, and she saw that his jeans rode even lower on his slim hips and that his masculine perfection had changed just a tad. Okay, more than a tad. A whole lot more.
    He had an erection.
    She didn’t exactly mean to stare, but since he was standing only a foot away from the bed and she was lying down and he was so close, it was rather hard to ignore. Heat bloomed in her belly, making her toes curl.
    He reached out and placed a warm palm on her forehead. “Your fever seems to be down. Luckily, the electricity came on in the middle of the night, otherwise, without the air-conditioning, the house would have been muggy as hell. If this rain ever stops, they’re predicting a real scorcher, and with you being sick I’d hate for you to suffer through the heat, too.” He smoothed her hair away from her setface, looking at her closely. “You want to use the john?”
    She was so flustered by his good-natured chatter in light of her lascivious thoughts, she couldn’t answer, even though her situation was beginning to get critical.
    He solved