Montana Sky

to.
    He felt her body jerk, stiffen against the onslaught. And wondered if what was battling through her was even close to what was battling through him. He’d expected heat, or cold. She had both in her. He’d expected power, for she was anything but weak. He’d hoped to find pleasure, as her mouth seemed to have been created to give and to take it.
    He hadn’t known he’d find them all, a rage of all that would slam into him like bare-knuckled fists and leave him reeling.
    “Goddamn it.” He dragged his mouth away, stared into her eyes, so big and dark and shocked. “Goddamn it all to hell.”
    And his mouth came down on hers again to feed.
    She moaned, a sound trapped in her throat, a sound he could feel when he closed his hand over that smooth column and squeezed lightly. He wanted to taste there, just there where that pulse jumped and that moan sounded, but for thelife of him he couldn’t get enough of her mouth. And she was holding him now, holding hard, moving against him, hips grinding.
    He closed a hand over her breast, so firm through the flannel. When it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, he yanked her shirt free of her jeans and streaked under to flesh.
    The feel of his hand, hard and callused and strong on her, had the muscles in her thighs going loose, the tension in her stomach pushing toward pain. His thumb flicked over her nipple, ricocheting bullets of heat from point to point through her overtaxed system.
    She went limp, might have slid through his arms like vapor if he hadn’t changed his grip. That sudden and utter surrender aroused him more than all the flash and fire.
    “We need to finish this.” He cupped her breast, fingers skimming, stroking as he waited for her eyes to open and meet his. “And though it’s tempting to go right on with it here, Bess might be miffed if she came in and found us waxing her floor the way I have in mind.”
    “Back off.” She fought to suck in air. “I can’t breathe, back off.”
    “I’m having some trouble with that myself. We’ll breathe later.” He lowered his head, nipped at her jaw. “Come home with me, Willa, let me have you.”
    “I’m not going to do that.” She struggled free, stumbled to the table, and braced her palms on it for balance. She had to think, had to. But she could only feel. “Keep away,” she snapped when he moved toward her. “Keep away and let me breathe.”
    It was the lick of real panic in her voice that had him leaning back against the counter. “All right, breathe. It isn’t going to change anything.” He reached for the mug of coffee beside him and, when he noted his hands weren’t steady, left it where it sat. “I don’t know if I’m too pleased about this either.”
    “Fine. That’s just fine.” Steadier, she straightened, faced him. “You think because you’ve talked a dozen women onto their backs you can just come in here and talk me ontomine. Easy pickings, too, since I’ve never done it before.”
    “Can’t be more than ten women by my count,” he said easily. “And I didn’t have to—” He broke off, eyes going wide, jaw dropping. “Never done what, exactly?”
    “You know damn well what, exactly.”
    “Ever?” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “At all ever?”
    She merely stared, waiting for him to laugh. Then she’d have the perfect excuse to kill him.
    “But I figured you and Zack . . .” He trailed off again, realizing that might not have sat too well with him under the circumstances.
    “Did he say I did?” Her eyes narrowed to slits as she poised, ready to spring.
    “No, he never—no.” At a loss, Ben dragged a hand out of his pocket and raked it through his hair. “I just figured, that’s all. I just figured you . . . at some time or other. Well, hell, Willa, you’re a grown woman. Of course I figured you’d—”
    “Slept around?”
    “No, not exactly.” Hand me a shovel, he thought. I’m getting tired of digging this hole for myself with my bare hands. “You’re a good-looking woman,” he began, and winced, knowing he could have done better than that. Would have, too, if his tongue wasn’t so tangled up. “I just assumed that you’d had some experience in the area.”
    “Well, I haven’t.” Temper was clearing just enough to let in flickers of embarrassment. “And it’s up to me when and if I want to change that, and who I want to change it with.”
    “Absolutely. I wouldn’t have pushed if I’d realized . . .” He