Font Size:

Page 22 of Crossed Wires: The Complete Series

Hunter wiped his eyes. Grinning, he shook his head and shrugged. “Looks like a belly washer.”

Annie had never found pleasure in rain. In New York, the skies would go dark and gray for days on end, never producing more than a few measly icy-cold drops at a time. This rain felt different. It cooled her overheated skin, washing away the sweat, the grime, the smell of the horse. It was like bathing in a beautiful waterfall.

She lifted her arms and spun around. “It’s incredible!”

Hunter watched her with humor in his eyes. “It’s just rain, you bloody crazy Yank.”

“Maybe. But it feels so good.”

Hunter’s laughter died as his eyes drifted over her body hungrily. She glanced down and suddenly understood why men loved wet t-shirt contests so much. Her white shirt was sheer and it clung to her body, revealing every curve she possessed.

Her nipples were dark and erect. She wanted to blame it on the sudden chill, but she knew it had more to do with arousal.

Hunter had removed his hat and his hair was slick, wet. He pushed it away from his face.

She lowered her arms as both of them continued to stare at each other.

Then they moved at the same time.

Annie didn’t have time to consider her actions when Hunter’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She gripped his face, forcing his lips to hers.

Hunter’s kiss was hot and deep, passionate. Annie turned her head, trying to get more of him. They’d curbed one hunger with food. Now they were satisfying a different kind of starvation.

She ran her hands over his shoulders, dragging her fingers along his muscular arms. Hunter lifted his palms to her breasts, encapsulating her flesh with his large hands. He squeezed them and she moaned into his mouth.

The storm continued to pound down, but the force of the rain only drove their needs higher. Annie reached around Hunter and grasped his ass, her fingers digging into his jeans, pushing his erection against her stomach.

She longed to feel him inside her. Hunter pinched her nipples, the sharp, pleasurable pain sending shards of arousal to her pussy. She pulled away from the kiss slightly and gasped, but Hunter drew her back, refusing to free her lips.

Water dripped from their clothing. Annie gripped his soaked jeans tighter. She needed more than this. Tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, she untucked it and slipped her hands beneath. Bare, smooth skin met her fingertips. Hunter hissed when her chilled hands stroked his nipples, but he didn’t break the union of their lips.

His tongue tangled with hers, then he nipped her lower lip. She returned the sensual attack. Hunter’s fingers twisted in her hair. He tightened his hold, pulling the tresses until she thought she’d explode. So fucking good. So hot.

She’d spent a lifetime dreaming of a kiss like this, never finding a man who wanted her with a mindless, uncontrollable passion that could match hers. Annie dragged her nails along Hunter’s chest, desperate to mark him, to scratch this moment permanently into his skin, his memory.

A flash of lightning pierced the darkness and Annie panicked. The bright light reminded her too much of a camera. It drove her back to the present, to reality, and she stepped away, glancing around. What if someone had seen? Taken a picture? Stolen the most precious moment of her life for their own financial gain?

“Fuck,” Hunter muttered. His chest rose and fell, his breathing as labored as hers. “I’m so sorry, Annie.”

Sorry? She was the one who’d had the ridiculous moment of panic. They truly were alone. As soon as she realized that, she regretted her foolishness. She missed his lips, his arms around her.

Before she could explain, Hunter bent down to pick up their hats, slapping them against his thighs. “I’d never do anything to hurt Dylan. It’s just…”

Oh God. Dylan. She’d completely forgotten about Hunter’s brother. “Hunter…” She needed to find a way around his feelings of guilt. She hadn’t gotten a sense Dylan’s feelings were any stronger than hers, but what if she’d misread their flirting, thinking it harmless, sexy, while Dylan put more stock into its meaning? What happened if he came home and expected more than she was able to give?

“We need to head to the homestead. The storm looks like it’s dying, but that doesn’t mean it won’t come back worse. We shouldn’t be out here in the lightning.”

She nodded, feeling very weary and confused. Her clothes clung to her, suddenly cold and uncomfortable. She needed a hot bath and a long cry.

* * *

When Hunter and Annie arrived at the house, Hazel was on the front porch. The rain had slowed down considerably during their return trip. Hunter stopped near the house and hopped down, helping Annie descend.

She hadn’t spoken a word since he’d kissed her by the billabong. Guilt lingered, but if given the chance, he’d drag Annie back into his arms again. He couldn’t resist her, the pull growing stronger with each passing day.

Hazel started to speak, but stopped as her gaze traveled from Annie to him. Hunter’s hands still lingered on Annie’s waist in a far-too-familiar way. He fought to restrain his wince as he released her and took one step away. His mother was far too canny, too clever.

He rubbed his jaw, his fingers grazing his own lower lip. For the first time he tasted the slight tang of blood and he remembered Annie biting him. She was a wildcat, and he ached to unleash the sexy beast inside her.