MARGOT DIDN’T THINK to ask where Tr

MARGOT DIDN’T THINK to ask where Travis was taking her; she simply let him lead her from the office through the half-lit, slumberous barn, and then up the narrow stairs to his apartment in the converted hayloft.
She’d never been here before; the apartment had been Ned’s before he’d moved into Thistle Cottage. The long, open space with its exposed beams and wide-planked floors suited Travis. Like him it was spare and utterly masculine. Her gaze swept the neat interior, taking in the functional kitchenette with its extra-wide counter and bar stools for eating. On the counter rested a compact stereo from which a smoky blues song was playing. A few steps away sat a sofa flanked by two comfortably worn upholstered chairs. On a wooden coffee table she spotted recent issues of Practical Horseman, The Yankee Peddler, and Sports Illustrated. A TV positioned between two windows completed the living area.
At the far end of the loft stood a dresser, and next to it, neatly made up with a charcoal-gray comforter, was a king-sized bed. Seized by sudden shyness, she quickly looked away, only to confront Travis’s hooded gaze.
“What?” she asked breathlessly.
“I was trying to calculate the number of times I’ve thought of you when you were thousands of miles away. Now you’re here, standing before me in the one place I never imagined you.” He reached out and with the tips of his fingers traced a delicate path down the side of her face. The simple touch set her trembling. “You’re so beautiful it makes me ache,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so long—”
Doubt goaded her. “Is this some kind of a line you’re giving me, Travis? Do you really expect me to believe what you’re saying? Okay, perhaps you’re attracted to me now. But you’ve obviously forgotten what you said to me years ago in the tack room. You told me—”
He placed his finger on her lips, silencing her. “I lied to you. I lied through my teeth because I knew if I didn’t get you out of that tack room and fast, I’d have ended up doing something we’d both regret. Christ, you were barely eighteen. You don’t think RJ would have tried to flay me alive if I’d touched you the way I wanted to? And he’d have been right to. So yeah, I told you a bunch of bull about how you weren’t my type. I was a jerk to say those things, but I didn’t see any other way to convince you of my disinterest. Come on, Margot, haven’t you ever lied before?”
She felt her cheeks color uncomfortably as her conscience ruthlessly reminded her that, yes, she had lied. And she was lying to him still. Travis, however, didn’t catch her guilty blush. He was staring at the floor, shaking his head.
Straightening, he said, “Maybe this is the only way to convince you of how sorry I am.” He drew a breath as if readying himself for some kind of challenge. “Okay. Here goes.”
For a second she stared uncomprehendingly. If he was bent on seduction, what was he doing standing over there? Then his hands moved to the buttons of his shirt. Slowly, one by one, he slipped them free, his eyes never leaving hers.
Margot’s heart tripped as understanding dawned. Travis was stripping. He was baring himself for her, offering himself as she had done so many years ago.
His shirttails hung loosely, exposing a tantalizing strip of naked skin. He shrugged the black cotton off and it drifted to the floor to land behind him, unnoticed.
In the muted light his chest was all sculpted planes, muscled ridges, and beguiling shadows. But what struck her most was that Travis had a farmer’s tan, the lines marking the short-sleeved shirts he wore plainly visible. Margot had long grown accustomed to perfect tans, obtained over hours poolside at luxury resorts, or utterly artificial, poured out of plastic bottles, airbrushed on, or acquired in space-age tanning beds. She loved it that Travis would never bother with any of those things simply to enhance his looks. Then again, why should he worry when he was already perfect?
The muscles in his shoulders flexed as his hands came together below the seductive hollow of his navel. Breath bated, she waited as Travis unbuckled the black leather belt and then dragged the belt free, not even blinking when it clattered to the floor. A bomb could have exploded and Margot wouldn’t have been able to tear her gaze from the sight of Travis working the zipper of his jeans down.
The zipper descended, revealing a V of black cotton. Then Travis was peeling his jeans down lean hips and sinewed legs and kicking off his leather moccasins. He stepped out of his pants to stand before her, clad only in black boxer briefs.
Her mouth went dry.
She could only imagine what would have happened had Calvin Klein discovered Travis for his underwear campaign. A brief-clad Travis plastered on the sides of metropolitan buses would have caused citywide traffic pileups.
She wondered vaguely if she was going to faint. She was having trouble breathing. She was years away from being that eighteen-year-old virgin and yet this had to be the most erotic moment she’d ever experienced. Dear Lord, was he really going to bare all?
She should have known better than to doubt. He didn’t hesitate or rush. Slowly, deliberately, he eased the snug cotton briefs down his leanly muscled thighs. Stepping out of them, he approached with athletic grace, then stopped tantalizingly close. He was magnificent. A gloriously aroused male.
Her nerves leaped like live wires as her eyes drank him in and her heart thundered in her breast.
Travis spoke, and it seemed like ages had passed since she’d heard the rough, thrilling timbre of his voice. “Look at me. Can you doubt that I’ve been wanting you these eight years and more? Here I am, Margot. If you want me, I’m yours.”
Heat shimmered in his eyes, turning them molten silver. “Kiss me, Margot. Let me show you how much I want you.”
His head dipped and her breath caught in anticipation of the dark, intoxicating taste of him. Yet his lips hovered over hers a mere whisper away.
Why didn’t he kiss her? It took a moment to understand. Travis was waiting for her to decide, leaving it up to her to accept or reject what he was promising. Such restraint was awesome, intimidating even, so she could feel relief only when, like the Travis of old, he challenged her. “Come on, sweetheart, I dare you,” he teased, his mouth curving gently.
His smile undid her. This was what she’d always longed for—being with Travis and having him smile while desire shone bright in his eyes. No one made her feel as he did, so intensely alive. If she turned away now, she knew she’d never have another chance with him. How could she do that when her life was filled with so many regrets? Turning away out of fear would be the greatest one of all.
Setting aside her doubts, she returned his smile and was surprised by the relief that lit his face. With a sense of shock she realized that some part of Travis had been expecting rejection. His uncertainty revealed not only his vulnerability but also how conscious he was of having hurt her. The glimpse of emotions he took such care to mask touched her, and allowed hope to unfurl inside her.
She reached out to run her palms over the warm expanse of his chest, reveling in the helpless shudder that seized him at her touch. Her hands moved upward, encircling his neck as her fingers plowed through the damp silk of his hair. Rising on tiptoe she leaned into him, brushing the solid shaft of his erection.
Dragging her lips slowly against his, she whispered, “Am I woman enough for you now, Travis?”
“I’m on fire for you.” As if to prove his words, he wrapped his hands about her hips, urging her closer until her cleft was against his cock, the pulsing heat of him like a brand, easily penetrating the barrier of her jeans. Deep inside she quickened, melting for him. “You’re all the woman I want,” he whispered.
“Then maybe it’s time you prove you’re man enough for me. Think you’re up for it?” Catching hold of his bottom lip, she bit down.
He groaned low in his throat. “I can prove I’m man enough real easily, sweetheart. How about I prove I’m the only man for you?”
The sensual promise in his roughly whispered words made her weak with need. “I might enjoy that.”
“Me, too,” he said with a wicked smile before capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss. His tongue swept inside, stroking hers, withdrawing only to return. Alternately demanding and then sweetly beguiling, each touch of his tongue stoked her desire until she trembled in his arms.
At last he tore his mouth from hers. “I want you naked. Now.”
Catching the hem of her sweater, he pulled it over her head while she shrugged her arms free. His fingers made quick work of her bra, unclasping it and pushing it off her shoulders. Margot shuddered helplessly as his large hands covered her breasts, fondling them boldly, teasing her nipples into aching buds. She arched into his hands in a wordless plea for more. His teeth flashed white in his tanned face. He lowered his head.
A moan tore through her at the feel of his mouth closing around her areola, of his tongue circling as he suckled her nipple. Bright pleasure seared her like lightning flashing in a night sky. She clasped his head to her breast, urging him, begging for more.
His hands were at the waist of her jeans, freeing the top button, tugging the zipper down and then the denim, too, leaving her clad only in her panties. On his knees before her, she watched the progress of his hands slowly traveling up the length of her legs, moving ever closer to the violet lace covering her. Above him she trembled, her nipples beaded tight, aching for the sublime heat of his mouth.
His fingers plucked at the lacy material, rolled it down over her hips, then dragged the panties to her ankles.
He sank back on his heels, his gaze touching her everywhere. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Margot.”

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

MARGOT tidak berpikir untuk bertanya mana Travis mengambil dia; Dia hanya membiarkan dia menyebabkan dia dari kantor melalui gudang setengah-lit, slumberous, dan kemudian menaiki tangga sempit apartemennya di hayloft dikonversi.Dia belum pernah di sini sebelumnya; Apartemen telah Ned's sebelum ia telah pindah ke Thistle Cottage. Panjang, membuka ruang dengan balok dan ditutup dengan lebar papan lantai cocok Travis. Seperti dia itu cadangan dan benar-benar maskulin. Pandangan matanya menyapu interior rapi, mengambil di dapur fungsional dengan kotoran counter dan bar yang ekstra-lebar untuk makan. Di meja beristirahat stereo kompak yang berasap blues lagu sedang bermain. Beberapa langkah jauhnya duduk sofa diapit oleh dua kursi berlapis kain yang nyaman dipakai. Pada meja kopi kayu ia melihat isu Horseman praktis, The Yankee Peddler dan Sports Illustrated. TV diposisikan antara dua jendela selesai ruang tamu.Pada ujung loteng berdiri meja rias, dan di samping itu, rapi dibuat dengan penghibur arang-abu-abu, adalah tempat tidur King. Disita oleh rasa malu tiba-tiba, dia cepat melihat, hanya untuk menghadapi Travis berkerudung tatapan."Apa?" tanyanya terengah-engah.“I was trying to calculate the number of times I’ve thought of you when you were thousands of miles away. Now you’re here, standing before me in the one place I never imagined you.” He reached out and with the tips of his fingers traced a delicate path down the side of her face. The simple touch set her trembling. “You’re so beautiful it makes me ache,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so long—”Doubt goaded her. “Is this some kind of a line you’re giving me, Travis? Do you really expect me to believe what you’re saying? Okay, perhaps you’re attracted to me now. But you’ve obviously forgotten what you said to me years ago in the tack room. You told me—”He placed his finger on her lips, silencing her. “I lied to you. I lied through my teeth because I knew if I didn’t get you out of that tack room and fast, I’d have ended up doing something we’d both regret. Christ, you were barely eighteen. You don’t think RJ would have tried to flay me alive if I’d touched you the way I wanted to? And he’d have been right to. So yeah, I told you a bunch of bull about how you weren’t my type. I was a jerk to say those things, but I didn’t see any other way to convince you of my disinterest. Come on, Margot, haven’t you ever lied before?”She felt her cheeks color uncomfortably as her conscience ruthlessly reminded her that, yes, she had lied. And she was lying to him still. Travis, however, didn’t catch her guilty blush. He was staring at the floor, shaking his head.Straightening, he said, “Maybe this is the only way to convince you of how sorry I am.” He drew a breath as if readying himself for some kind of challenge. “Okay. Here goes.”For a second she stared uncomprehendingly. If he was bent on seduction, what was he doing standing over there? Then his hands moved to the buttons of his shirt. Slowly, one by one, he slipped them free, his eyes never leaving hers.Margot’s heart tripped as understanding dawned. Travis was stripping. He was baring himself for her, offering himself as she had done so many years ago.His shirttails hung loosely, exposing a tantalizing strip of naked skin. He shrugged the black cotton off and it drifted to the floor to land behind him, unnoticed.In the muted light his chest was all sculpted planes, muscled ridges, and beguiling shadows. But what struck her most was that Travis had a farmer’s tan, the lines marking the short-sleeved shirts he wore plainly visible. Margot had long grown accustomed to perfect tans, obtained over hours poolside at luxury resorts, or utterly artificial, poured out of plastic bottles, airbrushed on, or acquired in space-age tanning beds. She loved it that Travis would never bother with any of those things simply to enhance his looks. Then again, why should he worry when he was already perfect?The muscles in his shoulders flexed as his hands came together below the seductive hollow of his navel. Breath bated, she waited as Travis unbuckled the black leather belt and then dragged the belt free, not even blinking when it clattered to the floor. A bomb could have exploded and Margot wouldn’t have been able to tear her gaze from the sight of Travis working the zipper of his jeans down.The zipper descended, revealing a V of black cotton. Then Travis was peeling his jeans down lean hips and sinewed legs and kicking off his leather moccasins. He stepped out of his pants to stand before her, clad only in black boxer briefs.
Her mouth went dry.
She could only imagine what would have happened had Calvin Klein discovered Travis for his underwear campaign. A brief-clad Travis plastered on the sides of metropolitan buses would have caused citywide traffic pileups.
She wondered vaguely if she was going to faint. She was having trouble breathing. She was years away from being that eighteen-year-old virgin and yet this had to be the most erotic moment she’d ever experienced. Dear Lord, was he really going to bare all?
She should have known better than to doubt. He didn’t hesitate or rush. Slowly, deliberately, he eased the snug cotton briefs down his leanly muscled thighs. Stepping out of them, he approached with athletic grace, then stopped tantalizingly close. He was magnificent. A gloriously aroused male.
Her nerves leaped like live wires as her eyes drank him in and her heart thundered in her breast.
Travis spoke, and it seemed like ages had passed since she’d heard the rough, thrilling timbre of his voice. “Look at me. Can you doubt that I’ve been wanting you these eight years and more? Here I am, Margot. If you want me, I’m yours.”
Heat shimmered in his eyes, turning them molten silver. “Kiss me, Margot. Let me show you how much I want you.”
His head dipped and her breath caught in anticipation of the dark, intoxicating taste of him. Yet his lips hovered over hers a mere whisper away.
Why didn’t he kiss her? It took a moment to understand. Travis was waiting for her to decide, leaving it up to her to accept or reject what he was promising. Such restraint was awesome, intimidating even, so she could feel relief only when, like the Travis of old, he challenged her. “Come on, sweetheart, I dare you,” he teased, his mouth curving gently.
His smile undid her. This was what she’d always longed for—being with Travis and having him smile while desire shone bright in his eyes. No one made her feel as he did, so intensely alive. If she turned away now, she knew she’d never have another chance with him. How could she do that when her life was filled with so many regrets? Turning away out of fear would be the greatest one of all.
Setting aside her doubts, she returned his smile and was surprised by the relief that lit his face. With a sense of shock she realized that some part of Travis had been expecting rejection. His uncertainty revealed not only his vulnerability but also how conscious he was of having hurt her. The glimpse of emotions he took such care to mask touched her, and allowed hope to unfurl inside her.
She reached out to run her palms over the warm expanse of his chest, reveling in the helpless shudder that seized him at her touch. Her hands moved upward, encircling his neck as her fingers plowed through the damp silk of his hair. Rising on tiptoe she leaned into him, brushing the solid shaft of his erection.
Dragging her lips slowly against his, she whispered, “Am I woman enough for you now, Travis?”
“I’m on fire for you.” As if to prove his words, he wrapped his hands about her hips, urging her closer until her cleft was against his cock, the pulsing heat of him like a brand, easily penetrating the barrier of her jeans. Deep inside she quickened, melting for him. “You’re all the woman I want,” he whispered.
“Then maybe it’s time you prove you’re man enough for me. Think you’re up for it?” Catching hold of his bottom lip, she bit down.
He groaned low in his throat. “I can prove I’m man enough real easily, sweetheart. How about I prove I’m the only man for you?”
The sensual promise in his roughly whispered words made her weak with need. “I might enjoy that.”
“Me, too,” he said with a wicked smile before capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss. His tongue swept inside, stroking hers, withdrawing only to return. Alternately demanding and then sweetly beguiling, each touch of his tongue stoked her desire until she trembled in his arms.
At last he tore his mouth from hers. “I want you naked. Now.”
Catching the hem of her sweater, he pulled it over her head while she shrugged her arms free. His fingers made quick work of her bra, unclasping it and pushing it off her shoulders. Margot shuddered helplessly as his large hands covered her breasts, fondling them boldly, teasing her nipples into aching buds. She arched into his hands in a wordless plea for more. His teeth flashed white in his tanned face. He lowered his head.
A moan tore through her at the feel of his mouth closing around her areola, of his tongue circling as he suckled her nipple. Bright pleasure seared her like lightning flashing in a night sky. She clasped his head to her breast, urging him, begging for more.
His hands were at the waist of her jeans, freeing the top button, tugging the zipper down and then the denim, too, leaving her clad only in her panties. On his knees before her, she watched the progress of his hands slowly traveling up the length of her legs, moving ever closer to the violet lace covering her. Above him she trembled, her nipples beaded tight, aching for the sublime heat of his mouth.
His fingers plucked at the lacy material, rolled it down over her hips, then dragged the panties to her ankles.
He sank back on his heels, his gaze touching her everywhere. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Margot.”