Seduction, Westmoreland Style - Brenda Jackson [47]
Casey moaned. The sensations McKinnon’s tongue evoked were causing every place on her body to tug at her center and she felt a deep longing all over, especially in the area between her legs.
“Now prove it,” he said in a quiet yet challenging tone as he took two backward steps.
He glanced at her naked body up and down, and Casey fought for control as cool air touched her skin followed by the heat of his gaze. She had no qualms in proving anything to him. She had made up in her mind earlier tonight to treat him to a little Westmoreland seduction, and although she’d never used her tempting wiles on a man before, with McKinnon Quinn she intended to give it her best shot and then some. She might be a novice but when she finished with him he would see that she did have a lot of potential. So much that he would definitely want to keep her around.
She knew from overhearing her brothers’ conversations that men preferred women who were bold and daring, and she was about to whip up as wanton as one could get.
“Did I ever tell you what a great rider I am?” she asked, taking a step forward and reaching out and pulling his shirt from his jeans.
The moment she began unbuttoning it, one button at a time, he inhaled deeply when her fingers slipped a couple of times touching his bare chest. “You didn’t have to,” he said huskily. “I’ve seen you ride several times.”
She looked at him and lifted a brow. Other than that one time at her father’s place, if McKinnon had seen her ride she hadn’t been aware of it. As far as she’d known he had never been around when she’d mounted a horse. Did that mean he’d been somewhere watching her without her knowing it?
“Yes, that might be true,” she said, undoing the last button and pushing the shirt off his shoulders. “You might have seen me ride before, but you’ve never felt me ride…have you?” she finished off sweetly.
She watched the darkening of his eyes and thought that now was not the time to add that no man had ever felt her ride before, but if she was an ace in riding a horse, it couldn’t be much different in riding a man. And she’d had a couple of sexually active female friends back in Beaumont swear that men loved women who rode them and weren’t hung up on the traditional way to make love.
“No, I haven’t felt you,” he said, his irises getting even darker and his breathing getting deeper.
“Would you like to feel me, McKinnon?”
He nodded, not taking his eyes from her as he kicked off his shoes. “Hell, yeah.”
“Good. But first I need to finish removing your clothes,” she said, removing his belt and tossing it aside to join his shirt. She then proceeded to unzip his jeans slowly while noticing the huge bulge pressed against them. “Ooh,” she moaned seductively. “It looks like someone is ready for that ride.”
She got down on a bended knee, like he’d done earlier, to tug the jeans down his hips but didn’t stand back up when he kicked them aside. Instead she reached out and cupped him, testing the solidness through his briefs. “Now to get rid of the final piece,” she said, easing the briefs down his legs as she got down on the other knee as well.
And when he stood in front of her stark naked, she leaned back on her hunches and admired his physique, especially one particular area. “W—wow,” she said admiringly, easing the word out slowly. She then glanced up beyond his center to take in all the man. He was tall and unerringly handsome with thick, dark hair flowing wildly around his creamy dark-skinned shoulders, and had a muscular chest that was sprinkled with strands that formed a path down to the center of him. The part of him she intended to ride.
One good thing about having brothers and positioning yourself to overhear their supposedly private conversations was the ability to learn a lot about men and file that information away to use at an opportune time. She’d always thought the time would be right when she married the man destined to share her