A Pack of Their Own novel · Chapter 12 of 32

Chapter 12: The Loft

We did not walk back to the house.

Roark took my hand and led me up the slope in the dark, past the sleeping cabins, to the barn.

He pulled the big door shut behind us and dropped the latch.

The loft ladder was at the back, past the stalls. Hay and warm animal dust filled the air.

I climbed first. I felt him watching me do it.

Up in the loft, moonlight came through a gap in the roof and lay across a pile of folded horse blankets.

Nana Bess had put them there for Roark and Teddy. Teddy was snoring in the tack room below.

I turned around. Roark had stopped at the top of the ladder.

"Teddy," I said.

"Is dead to the world. I once tried to wake him with a pot lid and failed."

"Good."

He crossed the boards in two steps and kissed me.

It was not careful anymore.

His hands found my waist and lifted me against him, and my back met the post behind me.

I tugged at his jacket until it hit the floor. His shirt followed.

He was warm everywhere, hard muscle and old scars. A long pale one ran across his ribs.

I put my mouth on it.

He made a sound that went straight through me, low and rough.

"Winona."

"I want to see all of you."

"You'll have to be patient."

"I've been patient for four days. I want to see you."

He laughed, shakily, and let me do it.

I learned the line of his shoulders and the hollow below his throat.

I learned that when I dragged my nails down his stomach, he stopped breathing.

Then his hands were at the hem of my shirt.

I raised my arms, and the shirt came off.

The cool air touched my skin, and then his mouth did, at my collarbone, then lower.

I held on to his shoulders and made a sound I did not know I could make.

He lowered me onto the blankets with one arm behind my back.

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