“Damn,” he growled against my swollen lips. “Oh, fucking damn, Tess, I . . .”
His mouth melded to mine once more, but there was something deeper and slower about the kiss. Almost tender. I thought I felt his hand tremble against the curve of my waist as it slipped under my shirt. I knew for a fact that my hands shook as my fingers intertwined in his hair. The rough skin of his palm skimmed over my belly and I jerked against him, needing and wanting so very much more.
In that moment, where nothing seemed to exist outside of his kisses, of the way he tasted and how he felt, I would go all the way.
On a farm.
Near a barn.
In the hay.
His lips left mine, and I whimpered, immediately missing them. His smug chuckle sent darts of desire zinging through my veins and then his lips scorched a path to my neck. I threw my head back, giving him all the access he wanted.
And he took.
He kissed the sensitive spot under my jaw, nuzzling my neck. His lips soothed the burn of the fine stubble around his mouth. My entire body ached for him, for more—for everything that went beyond this.
As if in a tunnel, I heard the loud rumbling of a car. At first I thought it was my imagination—I prayed that it was. But as the seconds passed, the sound grew louder.
Jase sprang off me, onto his feet, and backed up. The rush of air felt cool in spite of the muggy day. In a daze, my gaze crawled down the length of him. Straw clung to his shirt and the fine hairs along his arms. My attention got snagged up below the hips before I looked down at myself.
My shirt was bunched up under my bra.
The car passed the bend in the road, and a flash of red appeared beyond the tall yellow and green cornstalks.
Processing skills had yet to catch up with the events. So when Jase came forward and towed me onto my feet, I was unprepared. I swayed to the right and tried to correct myself before I put my weight onto my bad leg. He caught me before I did, steadying me as I panted for breath like I’d just done a series of tricks on the stage.
“Shit, Tess,” he said, dragging his fingers along the hem of my tank top. He straightened my shirt while I stood there like an imbecile. “That . . .”
The car had stopped beside Jase’s Jeep and the passenger door creaked open and a tiny form stumbled out. A woman shouted.
“Jase!” shrieked a small voice. His little brother spun toward the pen. “Jase!”
I was frozen in place, knowing that I was covered in hay and my skin was way too flushed, like a heatstroke was now a true possibility. My wild gaze swung toward Jase.
“I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened,” Jase said, and then he turned and walked away.
Eight
Jack threw himself into Jase’s prepared arms. Lifting the little guy up, Jase spun him in a wide circle. Anyone standing nearby would’ve lost an eye if they’d been close. Jack shrieked happily, eyes screwed shut and mouth open.
My chest lurched at the sight of them together. Jase . . . he’d make a great father one day. Not that I’d obviously get firsthand experience with him as a dad, since I was one permanent, giant walking mistake according to him. Knowing that stung like I’d walked into a hornet’s nest and started kicking it. I didn’t know why it hurt so badly. The idea of having babies was so far off from what I planned on doing in the near future, but it didn’t make the squeezing in my chest ease off.
Jack wiggled down and the moment his feet touched the ground, he sprinted toward me. Wrapping his little arms around my legs, he peered up at me, grinning in a way that melted my heart. The kid was adorable.
“Did you learn to ride the horsies?” he asked, surprising me with his memory.
I forced a smile. “I fed them, but I didn’t learn to ride them.” And, apparently, I never would at the rate Jase and I were going.
“Why you not teached her?” Jack demanded as he craned his neck toward his brother.
“Teach,” Jase corrected absently. Walking up, he wrapped his fingers around Jack’s upper arms. “You’re like a little amoeba.”
Jack’s brows puckered as he held onto my legs. “What’s an ah-meeb-a?”
Jase chuckled as he tugged on him again. “Something that has a tendency to attach itself to other things. You should let go.”
For a second, it didn’t look like he would, but then he relinquished his surprisingly strong hold. Jase glanced up as he spun his brother away from me. Our gazes collided and then he hastily looked away.
Oh, joy. The trip back to the dorm was going to be fun.
But not as awkward as addressing his mother for the first time looking like I’d just gotten it on in the hay. Which I sort of just did.