Mad About You

his tongue probed her womanhood, and Virginia gasped, throwing her head back. For several vaulting moments he made love to her with his mouth as she writhed under him, then once again carried her past the brink of ecstasy.
    He slid back up to kiss her mouth, his lips tasting of her musk. "I can't hold out much longer," he gasped, "I want you too much."
    "I'm not protected," she warned him.
    Then he laughed. And she laughed.
    "Which is what got us in trouble in the first place," he said. "But this time," he added with a quick, tender kiss, "I planned ahead." From out of nowhere appeared a condom, which he broke open quickly and unrolled on his erection.
    He went to her swiftly, kissing her deeply as he probed her entrance. She was more than ready for him. His breath was ragged. "I have to have you now," he said, taking a deep breath, then plunging inside.
    Virginia's body convulsed when he entered her. He filled her completely, physically and emotionally. She wrapped her legs around his body and clenched her inner muscles, letting him ride her as slowly as he wished. She threw her arms over her head, her fingers wrapping around the metal bars of the headboard to allow her more leverage to move under him.
    Bailey was a vocal lover; she knew which of her movements he found the most pleasurable by listening to his moans. Arching to meet his thrusts, she followed his pace from sensual to urgent to frantic until he shuddered on top of her, moaning low and long with each spasm. Bailey's breath was ragged and shallow, his sighs satisfied. Their rhythm slowed to a lazy grind, then stilled.
    She lay beneath him, his weight comforting and warm. She had come full circle... back to Bailey's arms, where she'd always belonged.

Chapter Thirteen

    "JUST RELAX," Virginia said to Chad. "Horses can sense when you're afraid."
    "I'm not afraid," he scoffed, but his eyes told a different story. "Am I doing it right, Bailey?" he asked, pointedly ignoring Virginia's attempt to instruct him.
    Before he stepped in, Bailey looked to Virginia with a raised eyebrow. She nodded for him to go ahead, and slowed her horse to fall in behind Bailey's and Chad's mounts.
    She yawned, then winced when her horse shifted, the saddle rubbing against too-tender skin. A not-so-marvelous reminder of Bailey's marvelous night of lovemaking. Predawn, he'd slipped from her room to prevent any awkward hallway encounters with Chad.
    Strange, but despite the passionate night they'd shared, she felt irritable this morning—headachy, short-tempered—nothing that could even be remotely called afterglow. As the morning wore on, the more she replayed last night's script, the more she suspected her unease was due to the fact that not once had Bailey mentioned the word love. Or marriage. Or commitment.
    "Hey, Ginny," he called, interrupting her thoughts.
    "Yeah?"
    He stopped his horse until she caught up. "Let's ride over to the meadow."
    She swallowed. Not really in the mood for more unsettling memories, she stalled. "The meadow? Hasn't someone built a house there?"
    "Just getting ready to," he said. "The footers were poured Friday."
    The knowledge saddened her beyond belief. She couldn't imagine anyone else living in their meadow, overlooking their pond. But if it didn't bother Bailey, she supposed she couldn't get too upset about it. "Sure, why not?"
    She knew the way by heart, but followed a few paces behind so she could be alone with her reactions. Since they rode slowly for Chad's benefit, it took several minutes to climb the gentle rise that leveled and gave way to the north meadow.
    Her heart sank. It was more beautiful than ever—more lush, more inviting, more stirring. The pond was about the size of a football field, opaque green in the center, brown around the muddy banks, edged with giant sunflowers, cattails, and thistle.
    On the back of the property, a framing semicircle of trees had matured and would provide the family and their home with valuable shade. She squinted and spotted the wide strip of land that had been staked off, saw the concrete corners that were the beginnings of the foundation. She felt as if something had just slipped through her fingers and out of reach.
    "What do you think, Ginny?" Bailey asked.
    She stared out over the meadow, her throat tight. "The owner is lucky to have this place."
    "Yeah, well, I'm just a lucky guy."
    She jerked around to look at him, amazed. "You?"
    "Yeah, me, a homeowner, imagine that." His eyes crinkled with