Texas Two Step: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1 by Cynthia D’Alba Read Free Book Online Page A

all-consuming yearning to fill her. The desire to touch him, be close to him, make love with him overwhelmed her.
    She flattened her hands against his chest. His heat seared through the shirt’s material and burned into her flesh. She stroked hard muscles sculpted from years of physical labor. His nipples stiffened to her caress. The soft cotton of his shirt teased the nerve endings in her palms.
    He leaned his huge body over her and cupped her breast in his work-roughened hand. He squeezed and flicked her now distended nipple.
    Ripples of sexual longing echoed through her. She moaned into his mouth and, arching her back, pressed her breast firmly into his palm, wordlessly begging for more.
    Mitch gave her what she wanted, fondling and stroking her breasts until she wanted to rip her clothes off. She groaned, burning with a frantic desperation to feel skin against skin.
    Olivia slipped the buttons on his shirt through the holes with ease. She separated the shirt’s edges until she could feel the crinkle of his chest hair and the direct hot flesh of his chest beneath her hands.
    The tantalizing scent of Mitch filled her nose. She’d probably smelled the same cologne on other men, but the cologne’s interaction with Mitch’s body chemistry produced a bouquet unlike any other on Earth. She lowered her head to his chest, first kissing then flicking her tongue on his turgid nipple before wrapping her lips around it. His skin was a dichotomy. Sweet and salty. Dangerous and comforting. Past and present.
    There’d be no turning back for her now. She’d had a sample of her addiction, and she had to have more.
    When she sucked his nipple between her lips, he groaned and slid his hand under the hem of her dress. Her abdominal muscles danced and jerked when his thick fingers touched her inner thigh.
    He stroked fingers along the inside of her thigh, the silk of her stockings tickling and enflaming her flesh at the same time. “Your silk stockings drive me wild,” he said, nibbling along her chin. “Your skin was always silky and smooth. I love to touch you. I’ve always loved to touch you. I loved the way you moaned and twisted at my touch. The way your eyes would glaze over when I stroked you.” His hand moved higher, stopping at the top of the stocking. “But tonight, I want—no, need—to see you in these stockings. These stockings, my necklace and nothing else.” His voice was coarse and guttural and harsh.
    Olivia quivered at his words. Emotional fires she’d suppressed since finding out she was pregnant with Adam flared. She’d believed them stomped out and dead. She’d been wrong. She was dry tinder to his lit match.
    He stood, took her hand, pulled her to standing.
    Her legs were weak and rubbery, threatening to collapse under his relentless assault.
    Gazing intensely into her eyes, he said, “I want you. I want to be deep inside you. If you want to stop, say it now, because in a minute I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
    He waited. Gave her time to say no. Gave her time for rationality to return.
    But she didn’t want rational thoughts. Didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Didn’t want to let go of all the sensations surging through her.
    She’d made up her mind when she’d unbuttoned the first button on his shirt. For her, there was no going back.
    She shook her head. “Don’t stop. Please.”
    He placed both hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Tossing her long hair over her shoulder, he kissed the nape of her neck, giving little nibbles with his teeth and soothing each bite with his lips and tongue. Each kiss, each touch of his tongue made her inside boil with pent-up lust. Her panties were wet with desire.
    He unzipped the dress. The silky material slithered down her enflamed body and pooled on the floor. The exposure of her hot body to the air-conditioned room launched shivers down to her toes. Behind her, Olivia heard his sharp intake of breath.
    Did