Chapter Forty-Five: Someone Who Will

When I neither move nor break from his hold, he raises his hands on my frame and pulls my shirt off slowly.

“Bra, take it off.”

My hands leave his body to work on the straps on my back. My breasts fall free the instant I unclip them, and while it feels like a relief, the stiff peaks ache at his instant stroke of them before I can even place the material aside.

My thighs tighten on his; there is a plus to him teasing me when my folds rest above his. The only downside is we are both in jeans, both in hardy wear suitable for the farm, so despite the sharp delight that rocks through me as his calloused hands stroke my soft, stiff and sensitive nipples, no matter how much I grind into him to tease him in the same manner, it is not enough—he knows it, and I know it.

Sharing a room with him, I admit, scared me—what would I do If his scent caused us to lose ourselves or, worse, caused me to confess something because of the security he inspires, regardless of how much of a mirage it is?

But in