Chapter Fourteen

The ride over had dried parts of them, save Violet’s front and Ford’s back, since they’d been mashed together. Once they’d peeled themselves apart, Ford told Violet the door was unlocked and that he’d be right behind her.

She did the sort of sprint-waddle a penguin might while running from a hungry polar bear. With warmth one twist away, she paused, her hand on the doorknob. Then she looked down at least three layers of mud and sludge.

And smiled.

Never before had she been so filthy. While crusty and moderately uncomfortable, it made her oddly happy.

Free.

Usually she held closer to societal constructs. Always had to focus on focusing. She didn’t rock the boat while also craving attention, which never had gone very well together. Often it felt like she worked her butt off to be a casual observer of her own life.

Today she’d grabbed an amazing moment by the horns, wrestled it to the muddy ground, and experienced sensations she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing.

A shirtless Ford ambled up the sidewalk, speckled in much the same way she was after a day of painting, and it was as if her blurry life twisted into focus. Happy, tingly emotions crystallized, and she click, clicked a button in her brain so she could always remember this perfect moment.

“Evidently mud makes me sappy,” she said. “I’m about to start waxing poetic.”

Amusement danced along the crooked slant of Ford’s smile. “Spout some poetry for me, Shakespeare.”

“Wasn’t Shakespeare more of a playwright?”

“Ooh yeah. Those are the sexy words I was hoping for.”

Violet gave his chest a light shove. “Ha-ha. What I’m trying to say is this afternoon was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I was completely in the moment.”

Ford wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close. “I rather enjoyed several of those moments myself.” He kissed her hard on the lips and reached around her to open the door. “Finally, I can show this doorknob who’s boss. He’s been bragging for weeks about how he got further with you than I did.”

The guy was such a ham, a joke always at the ready, a smile a second away. She’d never been with anyone like Ford.

Not that she’d been with him.

Was she going to be tonight?

If the way he kissed was any indicator, they could have a whole lot of unbridled fun together. He saw her, too—the real, unfiltered version. Scattered brain, bursts of energy, and previously buried passion for photography, which he’d encouraged her to rediscover.

Unlike her ex, Ford didn’t attempt to calm the mayhem inside her brain—he rolled with it and patiently repeated himself. He made every minute an adventure.

The way he’d looked at her as he’d told her she was beautiful, as if he’d been in the middle of the desert for days and had just spotted water…

Her stomach whirled as she tipped onto her toes and initiated another kiss.

A tug-of-war began between her heart and her brain.

Sex without commitment often ended in tears and asking yourself what you did wrong.

Then again, so did sex with commitment.

More than physical attraction crackled between them, and she could feel their connection in her very soul. A sort of kindred recognition.

Their entwined bodies knocked into the front door, nudging it open, and barks erupted. The clickety clack of paws filled the air as the dynamite trio came running.

“Sit,” Ford firmly said, and all but Trouble obeyed. He bounded over to Violet, and she hinged at her waist to pet him. Only a strong hand grasped her upper arm and hauled her upright. “You can’t reward him unless he obeys.”

Violet grumbled, and Ford arched an eyebrow.

“I want to see if your method works. And it’s not fair to the dogs being obedient if Trouble gets rewarded for disobeying.”

Turned out Ford was a stickler in one area, and since it was his job to train dogs that’d be in charge of people’s lives, she supposed that was fair.

“Sit,” she told Trouble. He whimpered and pawed at her muddy pants legs, and as hard as it was to ignore the twinge in her chest, she remained steadfast. “Sit.”

Trouble’s furry butt hit the floor.

“Good boy!” Violet squatted and showered him with affection. “Who’s a good boy? That’s you, isn’t it?” She patted the other puppies, and Pyro glanced at Ford.

At Ford’s nod, Pyro rushed over for the snuggle party.

With all the puppies wagging their tails, Violet declared her mission accomplished. The crusted mud that fell from her jeans reminded her how filthy she was. “I’m going to leave a trail from here to the bathroom.”

“We can shed our shoes and jeans here in the tiled entryway.”

While she’d been halfway naked in front of him only ten or so minutes ago, her adrenaline had ebbed, and it was brighter in here. Suddenly she was calculating how long it’d been since she’d shaved her legs.

Of course she hadn’t worn her fancy underwear—she’d never dreamed anyone but her would be seeing them.

“I can’t speak for the puppies, but don’t worry, I’ll be a gentleman and turn around.” Ford pivoted toward the wall, and she caught his arm.

“What if I…?” The fervor that’d assailed her body earlier pulsed to life, beseeching her to carry on with living in the moment. “What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”

A harsh breath whooshed from his lips—one that broadcast his desire for her. And that made it a lot easier to be bold.

She unbuttoned her jeans and began shimmying out of them. The gritty silt made feeling sexy more of a challenge, but she peeled the denim past her thighs and puddled her jeans on the floor.

Ford’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and her blood turned molten.

With his eyes glued to hers, he unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans. He shucked them off and kicked them next to hers.

A giggle arose as she glanced at their captive K-9 audience. “I think they’re waiting for our next trick.”

“I can conjure one or two.” Ford scooped her up, his arms binding her upper thighs, and a squeak escaped her as he strode in the direction of the hall.

Thinking of something clever to say with his whiskers lightly abrading the tops of her breasts and his bare skin heating hers proved impossible. All pesky thoughts had been removed to make way for the lust coursing through her.

Violet combed her fingers through his hair, shaking loose some of the crusted mud on the ends.

A door opened to their left, and after Ford had carried her inside, he kicked it closed behind them.

The bathroom ceiling was lower than the hallway’s, and the top of her head skimmed the light fixture. Ford loosened his grip, and she slid down his hard body, her pulse leaping as he groaned.

He swept aside the shower curtain and fumbled with the handles.

Once he’d gotten the water flowing, he spun and cupped her face in his hands. She nearly purred as his thumb dragged across her jaw. “Believe me, sweetheart, I’m aching to get under that hot water with you. But I’m also willing to walk out that door and give you privacy. I don’t want you to feel pressured or for you to do anything you might later regret.”

He was usually so cocky—now, his sincere words and the hint of vulnerability in his voice made her freeze in place.

One beat…

Two…

With deliberate casualness, Violet slipped one bra strap off her shoulder. Then the other.

She reached behind her.

The usual pinching motion didn’t dislodge her bra, so she added her other hand to aid her efforts. “Dammit. I was trying to be all sexy, and this just shows why I can’t pull it off.”

“I’m happy to help.” Ford placed his hands on her hips, twisted her to face the mirror above the sink, and fiddled with the clasp. “The mud’s acting like cement, but don’t you worry, I’ll win this fight.”

The bra came loose and fell to the floor.

Ford placed a hand on the center of her stomach and tugged her against him. His erection pressed into the crease of her butt, and he caught her eye in the mirror. “Look at you. Feel what you’re doing to me. How can you say you’re not sexy?”

The woman peering back at her was a mess. Disheveled hair, dirt-streaked, and carrying a few extra pounds.

But as she bypassed features she’d always considered flaws and concentrated on the way they fit together, she did feel sexy. Desire left her skin flushed and dewy, and Ford’s massive body and the large hand splayed on her abdomen made her feel tiny.

His other hand came up to fondle her breast as the one on her stomach drifted downward. He dipped a couple of fingertips into the waistband of her simple cotton panties, and she melted into his embrace.

It’d been so long since she’d been touched. Her knees threatened to give out as his fingertips moved lower.

And lower.

She curled her hand around the nape of Ford’s neck, using it as an anchor and arching against his chiseled torso. Electricity jolted her core as the tip of his index finger found the bundle of nerves pulsing to life, the live-wire reaction a spectacular mix of frenzy and ecstasy.

The mirror steamed over, blurring the two nude figures writhing against each other.

Ford kissed her temple and maneuvered her toward the shower. “I think it’s time to get underneath the warm water.”

“Sure, yep, whatever,” Violet said on a breath as he jerked her panties down and off. She was far too desperate for more of Ford’s touch to concern herself over where it happened.

The when, though—that needed to be now.

Water sluiced over Violet as she stepped into the shower, heating her skin to the same blazing temperature as the rest of her.

Ford shed his boxer briefs and climbed in after her. She grabbed the bar of soap and lathered up. When he held out his palm, she knocked it aside. “I’d better help. You’re adept at getting filthy, but I’m not sure you’re experienced enough in good clean fun.”

The crooked smile appeared. “Do your worst, gorgeous. Or should I say do your best?”

Foamy bubbles clung to his dark chest hair as she rubbed the bar over his body. She tipped onto her toes, both of them letting out throaty noises as their skin slipped together.

Focusing on getting the mud off instead of the way his shoulders rounded and his pec muscles twitched… Where was I again?

Labored breaths echoed around them as she scrubbed his abdomen, ensuring every dip and groove was covered.

For a moment she watched in awe, mesmerized as the stream sent water down his body, his massive thighs. His arousal.

She teased him with the bar, circling his dick but never quite touching. A growl came out as her pinkie skimmed the impressive length of his shaft. Needless to say, the overcompensating question had been cleared up and then some.

Violet’s throat went dry. This guy? She was going to have sex with him? What even was her life right now?

Callused fingers brushed damp strands of hair off her face. “How you doin’?”

“A bit frustrated, if I’m being honest. Some guy got me all turned on, and then he just stopped.”

“Inexcusable.”

Violet set the soap aside. “Right?”

“Some girl did the same thing to me,” he said, and his husky voice cranked her desire up to the irrepressible range. “But you’re in luck. I have just the thing to help us both.”

Ford wrapped his hand around the base of his arousal and walked forward until the head of his penis hit the apex between her thighs. He rubbed it over her slick, ready center, the friction sending frissons of pleasure down her legs and up her core.

A carnal expression overtook Ford’s features before he crashed his mouth to hers. The kiss was beautifully brutal, teeth and lips and a lashing tongue.

Another step had her pinned against the shower wall, his erection pressing into her stomach. Ford reached between them and renewed the circling of his fingertips, delving and stroking until she whimpered, “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Every muscle in her body clenched, and she gripped onto Ford’s biceps so she could lose herself to the euphoric sensations rendering her legs useless.

Another stroke and she shattered apart, his name spilling from her lips.

The world spun, water and tile walls and an exquisite specimen of a man flickering in and out of her vision. She might’ve even blacked out for a second or two.

But when she opened her eyes, Ford was watching her. The amount of satisfaction in his features suggested it was as good for him as it was for her, although that couldn’t be true. Clearly he’d derived pleasure from hers, though, and that left her unbalanced in the best sort of way.

He lowered his forehead to hers. “Better?”

“Much.” She flattened her palms to his chest and ran them down his abdomen. She traced the line of obliques with her fingertips and then hovered her hand over his bobbing shaft. “You?”

A grunt was her only answer.

“Sounds like I’d better get the soap again. I’d hate to miss any part of—”

Ford fell forward, palms braced on the wall on either side of her head, the line of his jaw razor tight. “Violet.” Her name was half command, half plea.

She closed the miniscule gap between her hand and his dick, gripping the base and squeezing as she stroked his hard length. A gruff curse escaped as he fell to his forearms, every muscle taut and vibrating with tension.

Violet stroked him again and again, basking in her power to control this big, tough country boy, if only for a little while.

“If you want this to be over”—he groaned—“keep doing that. But if you want me to grab a condom—”

His eyes rolled back in his head, his words an undecipherable gravelly jumble. The idea of watching him lose control while buried deep inside her made an ache form between her thighs.

One finger at a time, she released him. Then she kissed his jaw. The spot where it met his neck. “Get the condom.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

After a moment of rummaging around in what she assumed was the medicine cabinet, Ford returned with the requisite foil square.

The spray of water cooled a few degrees, signaling they’d almost used all the hot water.

And she could hardly wait to use up the guy in front of her as well.

…

Ford about dropped the condom as he reentered the shower. He’d spent the last several minutes staring at the naked creature in front of him, yet her beauty struck him again.

Yes, Violet was curvy and beautiful, and he could write a dozen poems about her exquisite dimpled ass. But it was more than that. The way she’d gone from mud-coated cutie to siren. How she’d meant to do a striptease but needed help.

And lathering him up…? The teasing had effectively driven him out of his mind, but he’d never experienced the tender, doting manner Violet had employed.

More than that, he loved that she didn’t hesitate to tell him she was frustrated, her enthusiasm—and how whenever he was with her, he experienced a soothing sensation that also managed to rev him up.

It made no sense.

Hell, half the time she made no sense.

Yet everything about here and now felt right in a way nothing else had.

Admittedly, a lot of his experience with women began with sex, and if that went well, they might attempt the relationship thing. Now he saw what he’d been missing, but he didn’t think it would’ve come along with anyone but Violet. There was just something about her.

“Oh. Do you need help, like I did with my bra?” Completely sincere, and she was already reaching for the wrapper.

A condom he could manage and then some, but who was he to refuse? He handed it over and watched as she struggled with the wrapper.

At long last, she ripped the gold foil with her teeth and proudly held up the condom.

Heated blood sang through his veins as she began to roll it on, and how could his restraint be so shaky already?

Ford covered her hand with his. “Full disclosure, I didn’t need help. But now I’d better do it, or this might be shorter than both of us want. I’d hate for you to tell me I got you all hot and bothered only to leave you frustrated again.”

“No one wants that,” she said, giving him a shy smile. Unbelievable how she could go from vixen to bashful and everything in between, and each was a win.

After securing the condom in place, he slanted his mouth over hers, savoring the way her entire body responded. Melting and tugging and stroking her tongue over his until he couldn’t tell her breaths from his.

Ford pushed inside her, swallowing her gasp, and holy shit she felt good.

Ever so slowly, he pumped his hips. He guided her back against the wall so he could get better leverage. Then he thrust inside her again and again, gathering speed and depth while clinging to his self-control. It’d been a long time, and she fit him so perfectly, and he had to stop dwelling on that or he’d do the opposite of what he was going for.

“Not quite the right angle,” she muttered, so he gripped her knee and hooked it up and over his hip.

In addition to the resulting keening noise, the move opened her up to him, allowing him to thrust deeper. They both moaned as they found the ideal rhythm. Their rapid breaths mingled with the water pouring over their bodies, taking him higher and higher as she clenched tighter around him.

“Ford. I’m about to—”

“Go ahead and let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Her eyes locked on to his, and then her walls were sucking him harder as her orgasm rocketed through her body. He eked out every last drop of her pleasure, and then he followed her over the edge with a roar.

Seconds passed or maybe an eternity, but eventually he forced his jelly limbs into motion. He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around Violet, and then reached for his own.

For a handful of seconds, they just grinned at each other, as if congratulating themselves on having such a phenomenal time.

“If you follow me,” Ford said, “I can lend you some of my clothes. Then I’ll get to work on that dinner I promised.”

“You were serious about that? I sorta thought it was a line.”

“One thing you should know about me: I never joke about food.” He skimmed his fingertips down her silky-smooth arm and laced his fingers with hers. He might be the obsessed one now, because he couldn’t get enough of touching her and staring at her and he’d done gone and lost his head.

They managed to make it to his bedroom before the dogs could catch them, but as they dressed, the puppies pawed and whimpered at the door.

Once the drawstring on his shorts was secured, Ford checked on Violet. He’d given her a pair of boxers she’d had to roll to get to stay in place, but thanks to the fact that his large T-shirt hit her thighs, he couldn’t even see the boxers.

The collar slipped off her shoulder, and she pulled it up, only for the other side to fall.

“You look perfect,” he said.

She bit her kiss-reddened lower lip. “Thank you.”

He leaned in and sniffed her neck. “You smell nice, too.”

“I smell like you.”

“Like I said: you smell nice.”

Violet shook her head and headed for the door. “Cocky bastard. I can’t believe I slept with you.”

Honestly, he could hardly believe it, either.

Ford led her to the couch, and the dogs barraged her with sloppy kisses. “I’ve seen what you do to kitchens,” he said, “so you make yourself at home while I go start dinner.”

Thanks to his lightning-fast reflexes, he dodged the pillow she launched at his head.

So that’s why Lexi brought them over to “spruce up the place.”

He’d thought she’d been implying his decor was lacking, but he bet his buddy’s wife had planned to toss them at him during planning sessions.

Sessions that’d become more fun as of late, on account of the woman reclining on his couch, her bare legs stretched across the cushions. Trouble snuggled up on her lap, and Violet idly ran her fingers through his hair, leaving Ford a pinch jealous of a puppy.

Shit. Speaking of… “I meant to warn you earlier not to get too attached.”

Her mouth dropped, hurt streaking across her features as tension crept into her neck and shoulders. “Oh. I’m not making assumptions just because we had sex. I realize that—”

“I meant to the puppies,” Ford quickly said, kicking himself for not realizing how it’d sound. Not only was he rusty in the relationship department, he’d never been the best at communicating in the first place.

He gestured to Trouble. “When it comes to training a new litter, I always remind myself the dogs are only mine for a short while. I just don’t want you to get too attached and end up hurt. That’s all.”

A hint of anguish radiated from Violet as she fondly scratched between Trouble’s ears. “I’ll do my best.”

An argument about doing better than that was on the tip of his tongue, but she’d promised to do her best, and that was all anyone could ask anyone.

At the archway that led from the living room into the kitchen, Ford paused and took in the scene again.

Violet relaxing on the couch, Trouble curled up in her lap while Tank warmed her feet.

Pyro on the floor next to the couch as Nitro used him as her own personal climbing course.

Well, his living room certainly looked fuller with Violet in it. Suddenly he was beginning to see what all the hype was about.

Do you have a sweetheart? Someone who makes your life worth that much more?

Maybe someday in the future, when life’s not so hectic and I have time for that kind of thing, he told himself before he got carried away. Violet’s only here temporarily, anyway.

Which was why, as he pulled ingredients out of his fridge, he thought he should point that warning about not getting too attached right back at himself.