Chapter 8 - Naomi

The silence stretches out between us as we polish off the last bites of Walker"s hearty stew. I try not to dwell too much on the weight of his gaze whenever our eyes happen to meet across the table, the unmistakable heat simmering just beneath the surface.

Instead, I focus on the simple act of eating—chewing slowly and deliberately, allowing the rich flavors to linger on my tongue. It"s a welcome distraction from the complicated tangle of thoughts and feelings steadily amassing inside me.

What am I doing here? The practical side of my brain keeps needling. You"re way over your head, girl.

But there"s another part of me - a more reckless, impassioned part - that simply doesn"t want to listen to reason right now. A part that"s drawn to Walker"s rugged presence like a moth to the flame, consequences be damned.

I set my spoon down in the empty bowl with a dull clank.

"That really hit the spot, thank you."

Walker nods, similarly pushing his dish away.

He raises a questioning eyebrow at me, "You...you want me to show you where you"ll be staying for the night?"

"If you don"t mind," I reply carefully, well aware of the unintended double meaning those words could carry in this suddenly thick atmosphere. "I wouldn"t want to put you out more than I already have."

The tiniest muscle ticks in Walker"s tanned cheek as he fights back a reaction I can"t quite read.

"Not a bit of trouble at all," he says gruffly, rising from the table. "C"mon, it"s right through here."

He leads the way down a narrow hallway branching off from the main living area, steps heavy and sure. I trail behind, taking in the simple rustic decor and the various ranch accouterments lining the walls - tarnished spurs, well-oiled tack, framed photographs of prizewinning livestock from decades past.

Eventually, Walker pauses outside a closed door, turning the knob and pushing it open to reveal a modest but tidy bedroom inside. A sturdy wood-frame bed sits against one wall, dressed in crisp navy linens. An ancient maple dresser takes up the opposite end, sides worn smooth by years of use.

"Nothing fancy," Walker says gruffly from behind me as I take everything in. "But it"s clean, and the bed"s fresh made-up. I figured you"d rather have your own space than crash on that rattletrap sofa."

"This is great," I assure him, stepping fully inside to run an appreciative hand over the plump pillows. "Honestly, you"ve gone above and beyond just by letting me impose for the night at all."

He grunts dismissively, "Just practicality, is all. There"s no sense in you trying to make that drive with the weather like this."

I nod in acknowledgment, suddenly very aware of how close Walker is standing behind me in the small bedroom. His broad chest is a mere breath away from my back, the faint scent of horse and hay and clean male sweat clouding the air between us.

Slowly, almost of its own volition, my gaze drifts to meet his. The look smoldering in those blue depths is unmistakable - a heavy, scorching mixture of want and restraint locked in a holding pattern.

Walker"s jaw tenses minutely as our eyes lock and hold.

I know what"s coming next even before it happens. It"s written plainly across his rugged features, telegraphed in every coiled line of his powerful frame leaning ever-so-slightly into my personal space.

Still, when Walker"s calloused hand suddenly cups the back of my neck in a decisive grip, it still manages to shatter what little composure I have left like a clap of thunder.

His mouth is on mine a heartbeat later - full, demanding, sparking the fever burning low in my belly into a raging wildfire. I melt back against the solid wall of his chest with a breathless moan, hands coming up to fist in his shirt as every atom of self-control deserts me.

Walker"s free hand skates up my ribcage, thumb tracing the underswell of my breast through the thin cotton of my top. I arch shamelessly into his touch with a keen need, silently pleading for more even as his rough palm brands my skin.

Time itself seems to blur and still around us, the passionate onslaught of questing lips and grasping hands bleeding into a hazy, formless continuum. At some point, Walker spins me to face him fully, yanking my hips flush against the insistent ridge of his arousal in one demanding tug.

It"s all I can do to hold on for the ride, fingernails scoring his muscular shoulders as I wind my legs around his waist. Walker growls his approval into the slick heat of my neck as blunt fingertips seek out the buttons of my shirt with fumbling urgency, popping them open one by one in his haste to bare more of my flushed, tingling flesh.

The rough pads of his thumbs graze my peaked nipples through the lace of my bra, and I throw my head back in a broken cry at the electric jolt it sends, screaming along every nerve ending.

"You're gonna be the death of me, girl," Walker rasps out, voice already wrecked with strain.

I gasp as his rough hands roam over my bare skin. His calloused fingers leave fiery trails across my body. I tangle my fingers in his thick hair, pulling his mouth harder against mine.

With a growl, Walker yanks open the front clasp of my bra, freeing my breasts. His hands cup them greedily, thumbs brushing over my stiff peaks. I moan into his mouth, arching my back.

Walker breaks the heated kiss, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck. He nuzzles between my breasts, nipping at the soft skin. I clutch at his shoulders, panting.

"You"re so pretty all flushed like this," he rumbles in that deep voice that makes me shiver.

One hand stays firmly grasping my breast while the other slides down my stomach to the waistband of my jeans. In one swift tug, he pops the button free. The sound of my zipper being wrenched down is obscenely loud.

Walker"s palm pushes past my panties, cupping my mound. I buck against his hand with a whimper. His fingers delve through my slick folds, stroking firmly over my sensitive clit. My hips jerk as sparks of pleasure shoot through me.

"So wet for me already," he murmurs in approval, increasing the pressure.

I throw my head back, losing myself in the sensations he"s stoking in my core. My nails dig hard into the corded muscles of his back as the coil of tension inside me winds tighter.

Without warning, Walker abruptly pulls his hand away, leaving me teetering on the edge. Before I can protest, he hooks his arms under my thighs and stands, lifting me easily. I cling to his shoulders as he carries me the few steps to the bed and deposits me on the mattress.

My chest heaves as I watch him quickly strip off his own shirt, muscles rippling beneath tanned skin. He kicks off his boots and jeans, leaving him gloriously nude.

I drink in the sight of his powerful, hair-roughened frame hungrily. Walker"s eyes blaze with undisguised need as he joins me on the bed, looming over me.

Walker hooks his fingers in the waistband of my jeans and panties, tugging them down my legs in one swift motion. I lift my hips to help, kicking the clothes to the floor. Now I"m fully naked beneath his heated gaze.

He runs an appreciative palm over the curves of my body. I shiver at his light touch, anticipation coiling tight in my belly. When his strong hand is between my thighs, I willingly spread them wider.

"That"s it," he rumbles in approval.

Two thick fingers delve through my slick folds, stroking over my most sensitive spots.

I whimper and arch into his touch, silently pleading for more. Walker obliges, increasing the firm pressure as his fingers work me higher. My hips rock in time with his motions, chasing that elusive peak.

Just when I think I can"t take anymore, he abruptly removes his hand again. I let out a frustrated moan, opening my eyes to glare at him. Walker only smirks before lowering his head.

The first brush of his tongue against my aching clit has me bucking off the bed. He pins my hips down with one strong arm, lapping and sucking with skilled strokes. I fist my hands on the sheets, whimpering shamelessly.

My whole body winds tighter, tension building with each expert flick of his tongue. I"m vaguely aware of the desperate noises escaping my lips, urging him on. Just when I reach the breaking point, Walker seals his lips over me and sucks hard.

I shatter with a broken cry, back arching clean off the mattress. Waves of blinding ecstasy crash through me as I shudder against his relentless mouth. He doesn"t let up until I"m a boneless, gasping mess.

Finally, Walker raises his head, lips glistening obscenely. He swipes his tongue over them, eyes blazing with satisfaction.

Before I can recover, he"s moving over me, thick hardness prodding insistently at my entrance. Our gazes lock as he braces above me on muscled arms.

Then with one powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside my still-fluttering depths. I cry out at the exquisite fullness, nails scoring his shoulders as I instinctively try to take more of him.