NEVADA RETURNED to the construction site in the early afternoon. She’d filed permits with the city, confirmed the blast dates and stopped by to see her nephew Reese and his exuberant dog, Fluffy, but nothing seemed to lift her mood. She wasn’t upset or sad or even confused. She was restless. It felt as if something important was about to happen. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on her part.
She was supposed to spend the afternoon doing paperwork, one of her least favorite things. Maybe she should put it off and go dig out tree stumps with big equipment. That always made her feel better.
She walked into the trailer, intent on grabbing her hard hat and heading out. Tucker was inside, pulling something from one of the file cabinets.
“Hey,” he said absently, paying more attention to the papers in his hand than her. “Everything okay with your mom?”
His dark good looks caught her off guard. As if she’d just this second realized how masculine he looked with his strong jaw and broad shoulders. He wore the usual construction uniform—jeans, work boots and a long-sleeved shirt. Not elegant clothes, but the look suited him.
Her gaze roamed over him, settling on his mouth. The mouth that knew exactly what to do to hers. The mouth that made her feel desire and wanting for the first time in forever.
Suddenly she knew why she was restless and what would make her feel better. Unfortunately, Tucker had just changed all the rules.
Fine, she told herself, walking toward him. She would change them back.
He glanced up as she approached. She didn’t give him time to figure out her plan. As she got closer, she pulled the paper from his fingers and dropped it to the floor, then put her hands on his shoulders, raised herself onto her toes and kissed him.
She moved her mouth against his, at the same time sliding her hands down his back and shifting her body close enough to press against him. There was a split second when he didn’t react, when she knew he could pull away, leaving her feeling more than a little stupid. A consequence she would accept if she had to, she thought.
He stiffened. She felt the stillness in his body, the indecision, then he groaned and surged against her, wrapping his arms around her and pushing his tongue into her mouth.
Passion exploded. His hands were everywhere, her hips, her back, her br**sts. He cupped her curves, then rubbed his thumbs against her already tight ni**les. She moaned as ribbons of need twisted through her. Heat and dampness surged between her legs.
She cupped his face in her hands, kissing him back, circling his tongue with hers. They danced and moved, the fire everywhere. She rubbed her palms against his chest before starting to unbutton his shirt. He pulled her long-sleeved T-shirt off, then unfastened her bra in a matter of seconds. Before she could register what he’d done, his mouth closed around her right nipple.
The combination of warmth, dampness and lips was nearly too much. Her thighs began to tremble. He moved to her other breast, sucking deeply, rhythmically. The pulling sensation shot down to her belly, then lower, making that most feminine part of her ache with longing.
He drew back and walked to the door, where he turned the lock. From there he crossed to Will’s desk and began tearing open drawers.
“Where are they?” he muttered. He swore, pulled open another drawer. “Yes!”
He held up a condom.
“Fascinating office supplies,” she said as she pulled off her boots.
“He keeps them around for the guys, more as a joke than anything else.”
“I’ve always liked Will.”
She finished with her boots and socks. Tucker headed back toward her, pulling off his shirt as he went.
She gave herself a second to enjoy the view—the sculpted muscles and narrow waist, the erection jutting against his jeans. Then he was undoing the button on her pants and pulling down the zipper. She found herself a whole lot less interested in how things looked rather than in how things felt.
He wrapped one arm around her and pressed his mouth to hers. As he kissed her into a quivering mass, he slipped one hand between her bikini panties and her hip, then moved his hand slowly, oh so slowly around. At last he eased his fingers between her thighs.
She’d been wet and swollen since the first kiss. Now she held in a groan as he explored her, sliding his fingers against slick flesh, finding that one spot and circling it slowly before brushing over it.
Heat burned down to her toes. She had to stop kissing him, had to stop even breathing so she could focus on the brush of his fingers. Back and forth, over and over. The trembling in her legs increased. She could barely stay standing.
In a matter of seconds, she was inches from coming. She gritted her teeth, then pushed him back.
“Naked,” she demanded. “Now.”
He obliged by pushing down his jeans and boxers. She pulled off her clothes, then shifted onto the table behind her. He put on the condom, then joined her.
She reached between them, guiding him inside of her. He was thick and long and filled her until she gasped with the pleasure of it. Every nerve ending cheered. Deep inside, she felt the tension start to increase again.
“This isn’t going to go well,” he groaned, pulling out and thrusting in again. “Dammit, Nevada.”