Lover Beware 03 - After Midnight

hard to miss."
    Incredibly, his smile bordered on embarrassed, then her breath caught as he began to enter her by slow, deliberate increments. Outside in the dark, she'd been aware of shape and proportion, but it had been too dark to make out any detail.
    In the soft lantern light, every part of him was visible, and like the rest of him, his genitals were sleek and beautifully formed, After Midnight
    223
    his shaft long and muscular, his testicles heavy and pulled up tight against the shaft.
    She wrapped her legs around his waist, the movement tilt-ing her hips and deepening the penetration. His thumb eased up from the place they were joined, and slid over the tight bud of her clitoris, once, twice, and heat spasmed through her again and she began to climax. His arms came around her and she felt him thicken inside her, the long, hard pulsing of his release.
    Eventually, he lifted his head from the curve of her shoulder, his expression soft and faintly wry. "You see why I spent so much time away? If I'd stayed in Tayler's Creek, Tucker would have resurrected some old law about adultery, locked me up, and thrown away the key."
    His arms tightened around her, and he lifted her from the bench, collected the lantern from the table, and carried her upstairs.
    She indicated which room was hers, and he set her down on the bed, pulled a fistful of foil packets from his jeans, and placed them on her bedside table alongside the lantern. "I can use these if you want, but it's too late for them now."
    The breath stalled in her throat as he peeled out of his jeans.
    Way too late. And he'd come over with more than just a handful, he had a supply.
    She caught the edge of a male grin. "I've been carrying them since I got home. You had to know I was going to try and get you into bed."
    He pushed the covers back, climbed into bed with her, and pulled her close. "But the hell I wanted to use them."
    Fully naked, he was beautiful; his shoulders wide, his chest broad, his belly flat and ridged, his legs long and muscled. She touched a scar that curved over his stomach, another that made a puckered shape just above one hip. When she questioned him about the injuries, he answered with typical male brevity, then switched to questioning her, seemingly more interested in the small day-to-day details of her life, and the complicated dynamics of her large, extended family—who were mostly resident in Auckland—than the fact that he had nearly died, twice. As the conversation ebbed and flowed, the tension that had gripped her when she saw the injuries dissipated, and she was happy to simply wallow in the totally unexpected contentment of just being with Rider.
    A series of heavier than normal gusts of wind buffeted the house hard enough that the entire structure shook, and for long 224
    FIONA BRAND
    minutes they were silent, their attention riveted to the sounds of the storm and the creaking protests of the old house. When the wind dropped to a more normal velocity, Rider propped himself on one elbow and stroked hair back from her face.
    "What will you do if you get pregnant?"
    "Probably jump for joy."
    Some of the wariness left his face. "You don't mind?"
    A baby ... Her stomach tightened on a kick of excitement.
    If she was pregnant, there was no question in her mind; she wanted her baby. "What about you?"
    "You might regret asking that question." His gaze was direct, and without a shred of humour. "Ever since I first saw you I've fantasized about getting you pregnant."
    Emotion swelled in her chest. Marg Tayler's terse statement that Rider was "taken" popped into her mind, and a tension she'd barely been aware of dissipated.
    Rider wanted her—enough that he'd waited for her for years. At the first opportunity, he had bound her to him in the most primitive of ways by stripping and penetrating her on her front lawn. He hadn't taken the time to remove his jeans, and he hadn't sheathed himself when it would have taken him only seconds to do so. He'd wanted to be naked inside her, and he had wanted to make her pregnant.
    What Rider had done had been ruthless and dominant, and she'd gloried in it. She hadn't cared that they'd both gotten soaked, or that he could make her pregnant. After years of closing him out—of repressing the most feminine, vulnerable parts of herself—she'd needed him to be wild for her, she'd needed the raw, earthy shock of lovemaking.
    Urgency rose up inside her, fierce and sharp. She didn't regret all of the years