Air came from Willow’s lungs in a rush. Very carefully, she eased Caleb’s right hand from her chest to her buckskin-clad hip. Then she slid her own hand inside her bodice in an attempt to remove Caleb’s other hand without awakening him. There simply wasn’t enough room for her hand as well as his inside the closely fitting buckskin.
Holding her breath, she picked the buckskin laces free of their holes and unfastened the flannel top beneath until it was completely open. The buckskin lacings, however, opened only to her ribs, which left her little maneuvering room. It would have to be enough.
Slowly, Willow slid her fingers over Caleb’s hand and tugged ever so gently. His hand moved against her naked breast, sending his hard palm rubbing over her nipple. A burst of heat licked through her, making her breath catch in a tiny moan. Her back arched in sensual reflex, repeating the caress, caressing his hand in turn. Biting her lower lip, Willow pulled gently at Caleb’s hand again, trying to free herself without awakening him. He muttered sleepily and tightened his grip on her once again, trapping her taut nipple between his fingers.
The small, ragged sound Willow made brought Caleb fully awake. He felt the lithe curve of her bodysnugged against his own, the fullness of her hip beneath one of his hands and the naked silk of her breast nestled in his other. Smiling, he flexed both hands, enjoying the very feminine feel of Willow’s body.
«Caleb?» Willow asked fearfully, a bare thread of sound. «You — you aren’t awake, are you?»
«I’m getting there.»
The heat of her blush was so violent he felt it suffuse her breasts.
«I didn’t mean to awaken you,» she whispered. «I–I was just trying to — to move your hand.»
«This one?» Caleb asked, spreading his hand over her buttock and squeezing gently, deeply.
Willow’s breath broke. «No — I mean, yes, but mostly the other one.»
«The other one?» Caleb smiled into her hair. «Where is it? I can’t see.»
«I can, and that’s the problem.» Willow heard her own words and wanted to groan.
«You can, huh? So tell me where it is.»
«Caleb Black, you know very well where your hand is!»
«How could I? It’s asleep,» he lied, smiling and searching through Willow’s hair for the sensitive nape of her neck. «So I can’t move it until I know where it is. Tell me, honey.»
«On my — on my —» Her voice broke.
«Shoulder?» Caleb offered.
She shook her head.
Willow’s hair slid aside, revealing her nape. His mouth settled over it, kissing gently, nibbling softly. He felt every bit of the sensual shivering that ran through her body. An answering heat flowed through him. He had never held a woman who was so responsive to his least caress.
«Is my hand on your ribs?» Caleb asked deeply, running his teeth over Willow’s nape again, feeling her shiver, wanting to groan with the sweet agony of his own need.
«N-not my ribs,» she whispered, barely able to think.
«Your waist?»
But this time Willow couldn’t speak at all, for Caleb’s teeth had closed on her nape in a tender, fierce caress that made thought impossible. She closed her eyes and tried not to cry out with the surprise and pleasure coiling through her, tightening her whole body. When his fingers closed delicately on her nipple, plucking the taut flesh, she moaned.
«Now I see what the problem is,» Caleb said, propping himself on his elbow so that he could look over Willow’s shoulder.
«What?» she whispered.
«This.» His hand flexed beneath her clothes and her back arched. «See? We’re all tangled in your clothes. Lie still, honey. I’ll get us free.»
Holding her breath and blushing, Willow watched Caleb with smoky hazel eyes and waited. His hand moved beneath the flannel, cupping all of her breast while his thumb drew lazy circles around her nipple. Her whole body stiffened.
«Easy, honey,» he murmured. «Am I hurting you?»
Willow made an odd sound at the back of her throat when his thumb rubbed the hard peak of her breast. He smiled and rubbed again, loving the velvet hardness that rose so eagerly to his touch.
«Almost free,» Caleb said. Slowly, he shifted Willow onto her back, caressing her with slow sweeps of his thumb. «Gently, honey, just a little more and you’ll be free. Shift your shoulder a little. Yes, like that. Now take a slow, deep breath. That’s it.» A shudder ran through his body as he looked down at her uncovered breast. «God, you’re beautiful, as perfect as a rosebud.»
Caleb bent down to Willow’s breast, turning his head slowly from side to side, letting the coarse silk of his beard caress her soft flesh, tightening her nipple even more. She gasped and grabbed his head.
«Yes,» he said thickly. «Show me what you want.»
Shocked and embarrassed, she tried to tug his head away, but her motions caused her erect nipple to brush against his lips.
«Yes,» he said. «That’s what I want, too.»
Caleb took the tip of Willow’s breast into his mouth as his hands tightened, making it impossible for her to move away while he caressed her with tongue and teeth. A strange, wild sensation speared through Willow, drawing a choked cry from her.
«Honey?» Caleb asked huskily, looking up. «Did I hurt you?»
«We shouldn’t — shouldn’t be doing this.»
Caleb closed his eyes and fought the denial surging through him, a denial as fierce as the hunger he had for the girl whose breast lay against his lips.
«Did I hurt you?» he asked again.
As he spoke, he blew on the nipple that was still glistening from his mouth. The soft rush of air over Willow’s breast made her stomach tighten. Her hips moved in a reflexive response she didn’t understand.
Caleb did.
«Tell me, Willow.» He kissed the tight rosebud he had drawn from her breast. «Did I hurt you?»
Willow tried to speak but couldn’t. She shook her head.
«Did you like it?» he asked.
Heat suffused her face. She turned her head against his chest, hiding from him.
Very gently, Caleb smoothed his bearded cheek over her breast once more before he turned away, not certain if his discipline would stand against the sight of her bare, soft breast nestled between buckskin folds, her nipple hard and rosy with the heat of his mouth.
«It’s all right, honey. I won’t force you.»
Caleb got up and went to the fire. After a few minutes, Willow joined him. They ate breakfast in a silence that wasn’t quite uncomfortable. He didn’t mention the morning intimacy of the bed. Nor would he let her talk about it. He was afraid she would try to refuse him the honey and cream of her body in the future. He wouldn’t — couldn’t — let that happen.
Shy, wary little trout. It’s been so long since she has felt a man’s touch. All I need is patience and she’ll swim right into my hands. I’ve always been told I’m a patient man. Why is it so hard to be patient with her?
Why is it so hard, period? Calebasked himselfimpatiently. I’llbe lucky to stand up straight all day.
Willow watched Caleb shyly from beneath her lashes as he moved around the camp, putting the supplies back into pack sacks, checking cinches and headstalls, making certain that the long ride hadn’t frayed anything other than flesh and bone. When he walked out into the meadow with a new bag of grain, she went beside him.
A whistle brought Trey trotting and Deuce limping up for inspection. Caleb poured out two mounds of grain and worked over his horses while they ate, checking hooves and hide for damage, talking soothingly the whole time, praising his horses’ stamina and gentle temper. Willow watched, fascinated by Caleb’s easy strength and masculine grace. The restraint and precision of his hands also fascinated her. He was so gentle that Deuce didn’t even flinch when his wound was checked, yet Caleb did a thorough job of inspection.