Just having the cowboy’s big, calloused hand in hers made her throb. Hugh released her fingers and rested his hand on her lower back, right above the crest of her buttocks.
She sucked in a breath. He knew what he was doing, that was certain. A simple walk to the bungalow where she’d be staying was becoming a seduction.
Through the barrier of her skirt, she swore she detected his thumb right above the seam of her ass. Her nipples puckered.
“Bungalow 9.” His breath ruffled the hair on her temple, and her pussy clenched. More cream wet her panties.
He walked his fingers up her spine. When he breached her collar and dipped his fingertips inside to caress her nape, she had to stop walking or risk collapse.
Her knees shook with the effort to remain standing. She wanted to tumble into that lush grass, spread her legs and beg him to make her come. Her response to his mere closeness excited her enough to believe she could come with him. Images of his mouth on hers, tongue probing, of him cupping her ass and lifting against his bulging erection made her pussy flood again.
No, I can’t do this. She’d thrown herself at men, hoping to achieve orgasm, and they all failed her. She had to keep her expectations low.
But she was burning up with eagerness.
“You all right, Sibyll?” His husky voice might have been practiced. That tone would melt any woman, even ice sculptures like her. But this is what she’d dropped a month’s income on—sexual surrogacy—a cowboy who knew his game and could use it to her benefit.
She sucked in a breath of courage and tilted her head back to look at him.
Christ, he was huge.
And insanely handsome in a way that made her want to get naked—now. The scruff of hair coating his jaw and upper lip only charmed her out of her panties more. When she focused on his well-shaped lips, a new ribbon of heat wove through her.
Were they hard or soft? They appeared to be chiseled from granite, but when the corner quirked up in a half smile, she was certain his mouth would be ohhh, so soft.