goes,” she said honestly. She raised her arms to circle his neck and tangled her fingers in his thick dark brown hair brushing the collar of his shirt. “I’ve wanted you to hold me like this since the moment we met.”
“Don’t say that.” When he closed his eyes, a muscle twitched along his lean jaw and she knew he was struggling to do what he thought was right. “I’m not the kind of man you need, Mariah.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, cowboy,” she whispered, cupping his cheek with her palm. “You’re exactly what I’ve always needed.”
Jaron felt as if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning when Mariah touched his face with her delicate hand. He might have had a chance to harden his resolve and not let things go too far between them if she hadn’t admitted that she had always needed him. But her softly spoken words and the feel of her touch sent a flash fire streaking through his veins and made thinking clearly all but impossible. He’d wanted her for years, and not allowing himself to hold her, kiss her, had been his own personal hell.
He knew it was wrong—that he should walk away and leave her alone. But when he looked down at the woman in his arms, he knew in his heart that wasn’t going to happen. He needed Mariah more than he needed his next breath, needed to lose himself in her softness and forget for one night that she could never be his.
When she pressed a kiss to the exposed skin at the open collar of his shirt, then looked up at him, the desire in her brilliant green eyes robbed him of breath. She for damned sure wasn’t helping him win the battle over the hormones racing through his veins at the speed of light.
“Jaron, I know you need me just as much as I need you.”
There was no sense in denying it. Hell, he was certain she could feel the evidence pressed against her. But he had to give her one last chance to save them both from doing something he knew as surely as he knew his own name they would both end up regretting with the morning light.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Once that line is crossed, there’s no going back, Mariah.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” she said without hesitation. “I don’t like the way things have been between us recently, and I don’t think you do, either.”
“I’m not promising anything beyond tonight,” he warned her.
She shook her head. “I’m not asking for more.”
She might not be asking, but he knew Mariah well enough to know she wasn’t a one-night stand kind of woman. If she slept with a man, she would expect it to be the start of a relationship. Unfortunately, he had wanted her for longer than he cared to remember and turning back now just wasn’t an option.
Groaning, he buried his face in her silky dark brown hair and tried to remind himself of all the reasons making love to Mariah would be a bad idea. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember a single one. A man had his limits, and Jaron knew that he had reached the end of the line with his.
For the past several years he’d fought against giving in to the attraction between them. But now that he’d finally held her soft body to his and tasted her sweetness, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Maybe it was due to the years of denial or more likely the loneliness that had settled in when he watched his brothers with their families—knowing that due to the fear he had of turning out to be like his father he would never allow himself to have a family of his own. He wasn’t entirely sure what the reason was, and it really didn’t matter. He’d deal with the guilt and regret in the morning. Tonight he was going to forget about the problems making love to her would cause and love Mariah as if there was no tomorrow.
“Let’s go to my room,” he suggested, taking her hand in his to lead her down the hall.
As they entered the master suite, Jaron flipped the light switch to turn on the bedside lamps, casting a soft glow over the king-size bed. Closing the door behind them, he immediately took Mariah in his arms and lowered his head to rain kisses along her cheek, down the column of her neck to her collarbone.
“Are you protected, Mariah?” he asked, removing her black leather jacket, then kissing the satiny skin exposed by the dropped shoulder of her slinky red dress.
“I... Um, no,” she said, sounding delightfully breathless.
“Don’t worry.” He continued to nip and taste her. “I’ll take care of it.”
When he raised his head, the desire clouding her pretty green eyes rendered him speechless. She was without a doubt the most beautiful, exciting woman he had ever known, and unless he missed his guess, she didn’t have a clue how hot and sexy she was.
“There’s probably...something you should...know,” she said, sounding a little unsure.
“Have you changed your mind?” he asked, torn between knowing it would be in the best interest of both of them if she had and at the same time dreading her response.
“No, I haven’t changed my mind.” There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation in her answer and, God help him, he was thankful.
“Whatever it is, it can wait until later,” he said, bending to remove his boots.
“But I think it’s something you’ll probably want to know,” she said, sounding a little uncertain.
Straightening, he gave her a quick kiss. “Do you want to make love with me, Mariah?” When she nodded, he shook his head. “That’s all I need to know.”
He didn’t want to hear confessions about other men she’d been with. All he wanted to do was focus on bringing her the most pleasure she had ever experienced in any man’s arms.
As he kissed his way across her collarbone, she reached up to push her dress down her arms. Stopping her, he shook his head as he lightly skimmed his hands across her bare shoulders then down her arms, taking the stretchy fabric as he went. “I’ve been thinking about peeling this little number off you since I watched you walk into the Broken Spoke.”
When he lowered the knit dress to her waist, then slid it over her shapely hips and down her long legs to lie in a pool around her shiny black high heels, his heart stuttered at the sight of her. Her strapless black lacy bra and matching panties barely covered her feminine secrets and sent his blood pressure up into stroke range. Put a pair of those fancy wings on her back and Mariah could easily model for that famous lingerie company every man with a pulse found so fascinating.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said, feeling as if all of the oxygen had been sucked from the room as he squatted down to remove her shoes.
“Thank you.” When he straightened, she stepped forward to reach for the snaps on his chambray shirt. “But you’re a little overdressed for this, don’t you think, cowboy?”
As he watched, Mariah unfastened his shirt, pushed it from his shoulders and tossed it aside to place her hands on his bare chest. His pulse sped up and it felt as though he’d been branded where her soft palms rested. How many times had he speculated how her delicate hands would feel when she touched him like this? Nothing he could have imagined came close to the excitement racing through his veins at that moment.
“I knew your body would be beautiful,” she said as she traced the valley between his pectoral muscles with her index finger.
“Looks can be deceiving,” he said, thankful that she couldn’t see the ugly imperfections he’d spent most of his life trying to hide.
Before she could ask him what he meant, Jaron unbuckled his belt, released the snap at the top of his jeans, then gingerly eased the zipper down over his persistent erection. Shoving his jeans and boxer briefs to his ankles, he quickly stepped out of them and kicked them to the side.
He silently watched as Mariah’s gaze traveled the length of his body. He could tell she was