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“Thank you.” Kelly was glad she’d packed this wrapround dress. The style accentuated her breasts and waist. The best thing about it was that it was easy to remove. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Tate was wearing a white button-down shirt that fit snugly across his broad shoulders. His jeans were dark blue and, having looked at his back view often enough in denim, would no doubt cup his ass nicely.

“Can I get you some champagne? It’s the only way to start off our weekend, don’t you think?”

With a couple of simple actions Tate had created the atmosphere she’d been hoping for all day while she’d been getting everything ready for her to set up the flowers for the wedding. Every time she thought about Tate joining her, tingles of excitement and anticipation fired through her.

“I’d love some. And Tate?” He raised an eyebrow in query as he removed the gold foil from the neck of the bottle. “Thank you.”

He inclined his head, acknowledging her words. The pop of the cork echoed around the room and some of the straw-colored liquid bubbled up and over the open bottle. “Let’s hope that’s not a sign of things to come,” Tate quipped as he grabbed a glass and started filling it.

Kelly laughed. “Let’s hope not, but I know a few tricks.”

Tate’s eyes flew to hers, his mouth open in surprise. “I’m not sure what to say.”

She sidled up to him, a sense of wild abandonment building in her. Kelly ran a hand up the side of his jeans and then reached around and squeezed his ass. “Don’t say anything. Just enjoy.”

She pressed her lips against his and she heard ice crunching as Tate placed the bottle back in the bucket. His arms wrapped around her, and she shrieked as cold liquid poured down her back.

“Oh, my God, Kel, I’m so sorry.” Tate jumped back, holding the now-empty glass.

She burst out laughing while grabbing the tie of her dress. “If you wanted me out of my dress, all you had to do was this. You didn’t have to waste good champagne.”

Tate blinked and licked his lips when she let the sodden fabric drop to the ground. Standing in front of him in her white lacy matching bra and thong set should be nerve-wracking, but it felt right, as if everything in her life had led up to this moment.

“I was wrong. You’re not beautiful, you’re exquisite.” Tate’s fingers were on the buttons of his shirt, and he was shucking it off before she had a chance to breathe in.

His chest was lightly tanned, as though he spent some time out in the orchards without his shirt on, but not every day. She could picture him pulling peaches from the tree, his body glistening from exertion. Muscles bunching in his back every time he moved.

A shiver wracked her body and her mouth suddenly went dry.

“Are you cold?” Tate asked as he closed the gap between them and pulled her tightly against him. Even though she wasn’t cold, being wrapped in his warm embrace was amazing.

“Not anymore, but you’ve got too many clothes on.” She pressed a kiss against his chest and her fingers found the button of his jeans. The material was stiff and not only from the engorged flesh she could feel.

“Let me.” He brushed her hands away. A few moments later she was pushing the denim down his legs. “Get on the bed,” he ordered as he dealt with the removal of his shoes and jeans.

So he liked to be in charge, did he? Well, she’d let him believe he was but she planned to have her way with him. There were plenty of things she wanted to do to him.

Kelly scooted back until she rested against the pillows and admired the view in front of her. Tate’s muscles came from honest, hard work. He had a nice six-pack, and she couldn’t wait to run her fingers over the ridges. She already knew how strong his arms were as she’d touched them plenty of times.

Her eyes dipped lower and could see the evidence of his arousal straining against his boxer briefs. Kelly ran her tongue across her lips, she couldn’t wait to lick, suck, and taste every inch of Tate’s body.

Excitement and desire pumped through her as he climbed on the bed. He cupped her ankle and brushed the underside of her foot. Her body jolted from the contact. Immediately, Tate looked up, worry and need shining in his eyes. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“No, everything’s fine. I just have ticklish feet.”

A wicked glint entered Tate’s eyes, and she braced herself for what was to come next. His callused fingers encircled her ankle. “You shouldn’t have told me that,” he said as he kissed the arch of her foot.

Arrows of electricity sizzled all the way up her leg, coalescing at the juncture of her thighs. “Why?”

He nipped the skin above where his fingers held her. “Because now I know your weak spot.” Tate licked and nibbled his way up her leg and all thought of responding to him left her mind. All she could concentrate on was the way his touch energized her in a way Edwin and all her other lovers hadn’t been able to. It was like Tate was wired to know what she liked and didn’t like.

He nibbled his way up her inner thigh and pressed a warm kiss against her core over her thong.

A long moan escaped her. “God, yes.” Her fingers gripped the sheets as Tate removed the tiny scrap of material and worked his magic on her sex. His tongue dipped and stroked until she was a mass of jelly. Her orgasm was fast approaching. Releasing her grip on the sheets, she reached down and threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him so he wouldn’t move away from her. Her toes curled and she arched her back as she ground her hips against him as her climax hit her with the force of a fastball from a star pitcher.

“Tate!” Her cry echoed around the room, and he kept his grip on her as the aftermath of her release rippled through her.