Seduction, Westmoreland Style - Brenda Jackson [31]
But what was making her feel heady was the fact that she knew he wanted her, too. The tightness in his jeans, the large bulge she felt pressed against her was evidence of that fact. And the more he tortured her mouth, the more he was working the both of them into a state of extreme arousal.
Deciding she’d had enough, she gripped a section of his hair. He stopped, looked at her, their eyes just as close as their lips. She saw the desire, the need, the outright hunger in his gaze, and then none too gently tugged on his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers.
She opened hers over his, not knowing exactly what she was doing but having a good idea of what it was she wanted. And when he parted his lips, she inserted her tongue, determined to find that pleasure she’d found before.
She didn’t have long to wait.
He launched into the kiss full speed, demonstrating his ability and flexibility; an impact she felt all the way to her toes. The fact that all the blood in her body had rushed south would explain her recklessness, her desire, this ingrained need to have her way with him she decided. Sensations ratcheted through her and she was driven to satisfy this hunger she had never felt before, this need to—
“Sorry to interrupt.”
Casey and McKinnon quickly ended their kiss but he held onto her tight, refusing to allow her to put distance between them. “What is it, Norris?” he asked in an irritated tone, ignoring the curious look on his foreman’s face. It wasn’t the first time he’d been caught kissing a woman and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
“Spitfire’s in trouble.”
“Damn.” McKinnon muttered under his breath, easing Casey out of his arms. “What’s wrong with her,” he asked in a rough but worried voice.
“She’s in labor and having problems. I called Paul but Beth said he’s over at the Monroe’s spread taking care of their sick cattle. She’s not sure when he’ll be able to get here.”
Casey had regained her senses enough to absorb most of the conversation between McKinnon and Norris. She knew that Beth Manning was a park ranger who worked with Durango and that her husband Paul was the vet in the area. Before she could think of anything else beyond that, McKinnon, ignoring Norris’ presence, brushed his lips with hers and then whispered against her moist lips, “I have to go.” And then he was gone, rushing beside Norris to the stables.
“Is she all right, McKinnon?”
McKinnon glanced up as Casey walked into the barn. She had changed from her night gown and robe into a pair of jeans and a top. The outfit was more practical and, in his book, just as sexy.
He swallowed deeply and glanced back at the mare in the birthing stall. “I hope so, but it seems her first foal is giving her one hell of a time.”
“Oh, poor baby.”
“Yeah, and the daddy over there isn’t handling things too much better,” McKinnon said as he glanced over at Thunder who was anxiously prancing back and forth in his stall. “If you’ll take care of Spitfire and try keeping her calm, I’m going to move Thunder to one of those empty stalls in the back. The less he knows about what’s going on, the better.”
“Sure,” Casey said, moving closer to the mare. McKinnon had talked like Thunder was a person rather than a horse, and she knew her brothers felt the same way about their horses.
Alone with Spitfire, she spoke gently to the mare, trying to keep her calm. She had been around pregnant horses enough to know when the time came for them to deliver, they had a tendency to increase their anxiety levels, just like humans. Having a baby, no matter who was doing the having, was no picnic.
“She’s okay?” McKinnon asked, stepping back into the stall sometime later.
Casey glanced up at him. “Yes, she’s doing fine. Have you heard anything from Paul?”
“He called my cell phone while I was moving Thunder. He’s left the Monroe’s and is on his way, so hopefully he’ll have