Pinch of Naughty by Gem Sivad Page B

course. I’m sorry for keeping you, Mr. Burke.” She backed up, putting distance between them, her expressive eyes snapping fire.
    He was halfway down the steps and another surge of lust stopped him in his tracks. Turning around, he went back inside. She’d moved to the table, clearing up the remnants of the morning meal. He crossed the room, stepping behind her as she reached for a platter.
    “What now?” She looked over her shoulder irritably.
    Fitting his groin against her rump, he reached around her, pressing his hand to her flat stomach, urging her backward against his denim-covered arousal.
    “If it’s collecting wages you’re after, it’s not going to happen if you keep calling me names and I fire you.” Then he leaned over her shoulder and murmured in her ear. “Leave off the drawers this afternoon. I might have time to sample some of your fine dessert when I come through.”
    His cock still ached and his belly burned, but irritation had changed to humor and he had to tamp down the laughter rumbling in his chest. Might have time, my ass…
    He spent the morning stringing wire around a fouled waterhole, his mood undimmed by the extra work. Images of his thick knob working its way through her snug sheath flitted through his head. No wonder she’s tight. Hell, she’s barely broke to ride. More than once, he had to suppress a groan.
    The thought of her bare-assed naked under her dress and ready for him made him clench the barbed wire so tight, he had to take off his leather glove and untangle it. His scruples about bedding a respectable woman were disappearing as fast as Eleanor’s desserts at mealtime.
    She called me a pin-brain for thinking she’d want marriage. Her “I’ll never marry again” left him more disgruntled than it should have. Of course she’ll marry again. Hell, I’m doing her a service letting her see how good it could be—with someone else, he amended.
    His grim expression changed to a satisfied grin. She said it was lovely. Then he thought of Henley’s ill-timed words at breakfast . “It would be a nice thing to have good eats like this year-round.”
    “Yep,” Cyrus muttered aloud.
    * * * * *
    “Oh my,” Eleanor whispered, giggling nervously like she never had when she was a schoolgirl. Feeling decadent and sinful, she crept to the bedroom and removed her pantalettes. When she returned downstairs, thinking about the tepid couplings she’d experienced with her late husband, Eleanor picked up a scone, buttered it and took a bite.
    The sweet nutty mixture erased the memory of William, reminding her of Cyrus instead. He’d carried the flavor of her pecan sandy on his lips when she’d kissed him the night before. It had been a spontaneous action. She’d…
    Eleanor closed her eyes and rolled the honey mixture on her tongue. He tasted like ambrosia. Then she snorted at her own thoughts.
    “He tasted like coffee, cookies and, and…” Her words stuttered to a stop. He’d licked the walls of her mouth, his teeth biting her tongue as he’d sucked on it.
    Remembering, her nipples pebbled, her womb clenched, her breath caught and ripples of desire coursed through her. Carefully Eleanor laid the half-eaten scone on the counter, brushing her hands free of crumbs and picking up a basket of darning before going outside.
    She sat in the porch swing, cool air stirring against her bare legs hidden under her dress. The motion of the swing vaguely reminded her of their rhythmic coupling. He’d been insatiable and unrelenting.
    “That’s it, Ellie,” he’d growled. “Play with me a little bit. I’ve got a ways to go yet.”
    Play with me… In her world devoted to duty, there had been very little play. She’d married a man who furthered her grandfather’s business interests, she’d been ignored in her husband’s home and cast aside and hidden by both families when her use was at end.
    There seemed little reason to deny herself this pleasure. She’d had more fun in two days than