My Determined Suitor

by Shelley Munro

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “Duncan, I’ve missed this so much.”

  A shard of jealousy pierced his sexual hunger. Jamie. His cousin had died and yet Duncan envied him. “No problem. We’re friends. I’d do anything for you.” Fuck, he had to change the subject, get things back to a strictly sexual nature before he said the wrong thing. He tugged her nipple, pulling a ragged sigh from her. The soft cry went straight to his cock, coalescing in a throb. Hell, that sound. He wanted to hear more of her breathy moans.

  “You ready for me?” He could see the glaze of arousal on her inner thighs and couldn’t resist the quick plunge of fingers into her tight channel. Oh yeah. Perfect.

  “Yesterday,” she muttered, her tone cross. “I wanted sex yesterday.”

  Little did she know. Pulling his fingers free, he lined up his cock and pushed his tip inside her. Heat struck him in an intense burst. Part of him wanted to slam into her. He resisted, thrusting in measured strokes and pulling back before pushing into her scalding heat a bit farther. Finally, fully seated, and he paused, leaning over to nuzzle her neck. The scent of sex flowed around them, and a faint floral perfume came from her hair. He licked a path from below her ear right down to her collarbone, enjoying the flavor of her skin and the vanilla spice scent of it.

  “Stop dawdling.”

  “My way,” he reminded her.

  Lana growled, pulling her hips forward and slamming back to make his cock slide through her channel. He hissed, his nerve endings vibrating inside her wet depths.

  “Hold still.” Not trusting her to follow his orders, he grasped her hips and held her tight. He leaned over her again, brushing his chest against her spine, sliding his lips across the smooth vulnerability of her throat. A nip of his teeth made her jump and a quick punch of heat hit him along with masculine satisfaction. His.

  Lana clenched her inner muscles, tightening her sheath around his dick. He groaned, the sound almost drowning out her victorious laugh.

  “A pity our first time is out here,” he said, warning coloring his words.

  Another laugh preceded the clenching of her inner muscles. “You can’t control everything.”

  And he’d thought she’d follow along with his instructions. Hell, he’d underestimated her. It had been a while since someone had defied him in the same way as Lana. Damned if it didn’t make the sex better.

  “Duncan, stop dithering. I feel like one big throb. I need you to move.”

  A grin slipped free. The female didn’t know when to stop. What he needed was a distraction so she stopped issuing orders and complaints. Still smiling, he withdrew before gliding back into her moist heat. A groan built in his chest but he held it back, determined to gain the upper hand in this battle of wills. He licked a path up her spine, over the tiny bumps and indentations, his pulse speeding once his mouth neared the juncture of her shoulder and neck. Jesus. The urge to bite, to mark her shoved at his control. He shuddered and forced himself to pull away, to pull out of her sweet pussy until only his tip rested inside.

  “Duncan.”

  With a growl, he ignored the protest and pounded into her. Hard. Fast. Using more force than usual because he knew Lana could take it rough. Hah! Not the truth. The minx had pushed past his shaky control. He slammed into her again, lips curving. At least she’d ceased her complaints. Good.

  The way to obedience lay in hot sex. Couldn’t be better.

  Wouldn’t last much longer. He slipped a hand between her legs and rubbed her clit. She gasped, her pussy gripping his cock in a tight kiss of pleasure. Man, he’d never expected this from Lana. His fingers massaged the slippery nub again. Good sex, yeah—but not spectacular and mind-blowing. The finding firmed his plans.

  Him. Lana. A mated pair.

  There was no other alternative.

  Another brush of his fingers and he felt her topple into climax. He thrust in hard digs, the kiss of her channel firing off more pleasure than he’d ever experienced. A guttural groan forced past sharp canine teeth.

  Hell. A glance at his hands confirmed it. He’d started his change. Fuck. Even his damned cock wanted in on the action, both lengthening and widening to fill her completely. Hoping to distract her, he rasped his tongue over her shoulder and pulled back, thrusting rapidly to finish.

  “Duncan.” This time his name exited on a sigh of feminine pleasure.

  Better. Much better. Filing the info away for the future, he sank into her wet pussy, soft tissues gripping and massaging his dick. His balls had drawn up tight, the tingle of orgasm firing along the length of his cock. He groaned, loving the sounds of fucking, her scent. Seeing his honey-coated cock shoving into her body. Another hard plunge into her clinging pussy and orgasm thundered through him. Blind with pleasure, he gripped her hips, each breath a harsh rasp. When the jets of semen ceased, he pulled out of her, lifting and turning her into his arms.

  Like a sleepy kitten, she cuddled into him, pressing her head against his chest. Right where she should be, he thought in satisfaction.

  Belatedly he realized they hadn’t used contraception. No problem on the disease front, however, pregnancy was always a possibility. He thought about raising the topic and dismissed it, not wanting to draw the hellcat to the surface. Plenty of time for talking later, besides, the idea of a kid didn’t bother him. He held her close, let the breeze drift her long hair across his arm and breathed in the scent of her, a combination of the fresh outdoors and a sexy musk that made his nostrils quiver, his arms tighten around her. Duncan listened to her low breathing and hoped things would settle between them. He wanted to spend the rest of his life holding her, listening to the steady rhythm of her inhalations and smelling her beautiful scent.

  Lana stirred, her eyes opening a fraction, dark lashes screening her expression. She stiffened in his arms, which pissed him off. Not that he displayed any of his reaction. Instead he relaxed his grip and let her pull away enough so he could kiss her. Their lips met, a gentle brushing of mouths. He’d intended to soothe her. Comfort. Instead a jolt of sexual pleasure assaulted him. And her soft gasp told him he wasn’t alone. He wanted to love her again.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “With Emily and Saber Mitchell. Emily invited me.”

  Duncan frowned. A motel room might have been easier. Maybe if he had a quiet word with Saber.

  “What about you?”

  “Camping at the rodeo grounds.” And he wasn’t about to take her in his tent where everyone else could hear her cries of pleasure. He didn’t care if his mates ribbed him, but he refused to let her reputation suffer. “I haven’t seen Saber for a while. Are you heading back there now?”

  “Yes.”

  Duncan stared, his gaze zeroing in on her plump lips and the way she worried them with her teeth. God, if the woman didn’t stop nibbling on her bottom lip, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

  “Good. I’ll come with you,” he said.

  “But—”

  Duncan stood, took pleasure in the furtive way she eyed him up and down before accepting the hand he offered.

  “You don’t need to escort me back to the Mitchells.”

  “Do I embarrass you?”

  “No. No, of course not.”

  His eyes narrowed at her refusal to look at him. She didn’t want anyone to know they’d slept together. Frustration ate at his gut. Damn. He didn’t intend to be anyone’s guilty secret.

  “Relax. My mother taught me manners.” Not much else before she left him with relations and headed out with a man, but that had nothing to do with them. “I’m not about to embarrass you or do anything to hurt your reputation. Are you going to the dance tonight?”

  “Yes, with Emily and Saber.”

  “Save a dance for me?”

  This time she frowned. “I thought you were walking me home.”

  “Sure thing.” Ah, sex and keeping her off balance. Worked like a charm.

  Chapter Three

  Lana couldn’t take her gaze off Dun
can. He strode across the tussock at her side, dressed in faded jeans, a long-sleeved blue shirt rolled up to reveal tanned forearms and scuffed boots. The man prowled with catlike grace, his dark hair too long, long enough to curl at his nape. He stood taller than her, lean and muscular. Not as big as Jamie but all man. Experienced man. Her muscles sang with a few achy parts, a reminder of the pleasure they’d shared.

  Duncan plucked a stalk of dried grass. “How long since you’ve visited Middlemarch?”

  “I think the last time I visited was for Saber and Emily’s wedding.”

  “I wish I’d been able to make the wedding.”

  Curiosity simmered in Lana. “Why did you come home? Emily told me you’re doing well on the rodeo circuit in the States.”

  “I missed home.” He turned to her, their gazes locking.

  Lana’s breath caught in her throat and a bolt of sensation spiraled through her body. This was about scratching an itch. Sex and nothing more.

  Duncan shrugged. “I might go back once the season finishes here.”

  An ocean between them might work. A few inches sure as hell wasn’t doing much to halt the impulse to touch. Damn, she couldn’t believe how much she craved him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural. She didn’t want another man underfoot, always telling her what to do and when, expecting her to pop out children instead of following her career. Cooking was all she knew and something she loved. Lana knew she excelled at it. Her restaurant continued to boom. She didn’t need a man. When it came to children, Jamie hadn’t agreed on the timing. Oh, Jamie had loved her, but the lack of children had played on his mind. A lot.

  She should leave and go back to Queenstown early. She’d had sex. Pleasurable, sensational sex. Yeah, she felt sated, except along with physical satisfaction came edginess. Awareness. And a scary yearning for more. The worst freaking part.

  “I hear voices out the back,” Duncan said when they neared the front door of the Mitchell homestead.

  They circled the house, taking the flower-edged path leading to the rear of the property. A cobblestone barbeque area extended from the wall of the kitchen. To their right a thriving vegetable garden gave way to an expanse of green lawn, the tall trees surrounding and shading the property. It seemed like an oasis at the height of the Otago summer.

  “Good run?” Emily took in Duncan and smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She waved at the empty seat beside her. “Saber is in the kitchen getting drinks. Why don’t you go and say hello?” she said to Duncan.

  Duncan bent to brush a kiss on Emily’s cheek.

  Jealousy, swift and cutting, seared through Lana bringing a follow-up wave of shock. Emily appeared happily married to Saber. She wasn’t interested in Duncan. He disappeared through the door leading to the kitchen and her eyes zoomed in on his butt.

  “Do I detect a romance?”

  Lana ripped her gaze away and bolted upright. “Heck no!” At Emily’s look of disbelief, she blushed. “It’s just sex. Just for the weekend.”

  “Hmm.” Emily’s brows rose in clear disbelief. “Was it good?”

  “Yes, and that’s all you’re getting from me. I don’t ask you about your sex life.”

  Emily chuckled. “You work hard, Lana, and deserve fun.” She paused a beat. “So are you still staying the night or are you spending it with Duncan?”

  “I’m staying here.” Lana attempted not to flush at the teasing. Emily had an advantage over her, honing her skills on her brothers-in-law.

  “Okay. I’ll tell Saber if we hear someone sneaking around in the middle of the night we shouldn’t worry because it will be Duncan. Heck, I know. We’ll leave the door unlocked. He can walk right inside. Neither of you are getting any younger. You shouldn’t have to do acrobatics just to scratch an itch.”

  “Emily!”

  “What’s she been up to now?” Saber asked, strolling outside with a tray of drinks, looking cool and sexy in a T-shirt and shorts. Duncan was right behind him, and judging by his grin, they’d both heard everything. Saber handed both women a glass of wine before the two men dropped into empty wooden seats.

  “She’s just being Emily,” Lana said with a glower at her grinning friend. “And I’m not listening to a word she says.” Saber and Emily were a great couple. She’d known Saber all her life and had met Emily at the wedding. They’d hit it off because they were both chefs running their own businesses and had so much in common. Emily had a café in Middlemarch called Storm in a Teacup. They spoke to each other regularly by phone and met whenever the couple visited Queenstown.

  “I keep threatening to beat her,” Saber said. “Threats don’t work so I’ve given up.”

  Emily snorted. “He’s just glad I’m picking on someone else instead of him.”

  Saber winked at Lana and didn’t deny his wife’s accusation. “Emily said you went for a run.”

  Lana glanced at Duncan, saw his heated look and blushed. “Um, yes,” she managed.

  “She doesn’t want to discuss it,” Emily said. “That topic got me into trouble.”

  Duncan chuckled, grinned at Emily and edged the conversation into rodeo. A relief to Lana.

  “How are you doing in the standings this year?” Saber asked.

  “Third in the bull riding,” Duncan said. “I stuck to the one category this season, and I missed two rodeos before I arrived back from the States. You both heading to the dance tonight?”

  “Sure are,” Emily said. “I’m looking forward to it.” She glanced at Saber. “I missed most of the last dance they had. His fault. Lana’s going too, but you already know that.”

  “Emily,” Lana protested, off balance despite laughing along with the others. Just the weekend. After the rodeo she’d head back to Queenstown.

  * * * * *

  Country and Western music poured from the huge marquee along with laughter, some of it with a tinge of alcohol-induced hilarity, filled the air by the time Duncan and three other cowboys wandered over from the campsite. Determination rode him because he knew he’d have a fight on his hands to get close to Lana. Even though tonight wasn’t the main event, there were still many people gathered at the party to raise funds for the local fire service who also carried out search and rescue in the area. The local men, the visiting cowboys and the woman herself would impede his goal. Too bad. He’d waited a long time and wasn’t about to back off without a fight.

  The local committee had gone all out with decorations, including Wanted posters and a display of Western memorabilia just inside the entrance. He paid his admission and sauntered into the marquee, looking for Lana or either of the Mitchells. Difficult to scent anyone in this crowd. Men and women packed the dance floor, attempting to do a line dance.

  Damn. He couldn’t see Lana. With a soft curse, he pushed his way through the crowd, pausing here and there to say hello to friends and acquaintances. Along with his unease came a contrasting sense of contentment. It was damned fine being home, spending time with his fellow shifters.

  “Are you looking for me?” The throaty voice dragged his attention from the dance floor.

  Jesus, she looked beautiful. She wore a dark green dress with tiny straps to hold it up. It clung to her curves before falling to swish in loose folds around her knees. The color highlighted her eyes, deepening jade green to a darker, more mysterious hue. The shadow of her cleavage drew his attention. He took half a step toward her before halting. Not the time or place. The closest he’d get to touching during the next few hours would be a slow dance, or if he could persuade her to take a walk with him outside where the air was cool and privacy easier to find.

  “Yeah. I thought you might be dancing.” But glad he didn’t have to see another man touch her.

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips, a brief brush on the mouth that had his feline purring. “I have been dancing. I saw you come in and wanted to say hello.”

  The line dance ended, and the band rolled into a slow dance. Perfect.

  “Wanna dance with me?”


  “Sure.”

  They walked over to the makeshift dance floor and she slipped into his arms where she belonged. Her arms stretched up to grip his shoulders and their bodies brushed.

  “You look beautiful.” Nothing less than the truth. The full skirt of her dress flirted with the tops of her knees, stirring with each gliding step. He would have preferred that she wear a sack, just so none of the other men could ogle her sexy form. Unfortunately, he could hardly complain since the other women had dressed in a similar manner. He wondered how long it’d take to talk her out of that dress, pondered again the advisability of taking a walk.

  “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”

  They danced in silence for a while, Duncan content to hold her in his arms. One dance flowed into another.

  “This is nice. I never have a chance to dance.”

  He grunted an affirmative reply. That would make him a bastard if he asked her to take a walk. Fuck. Okay. He’d steer her into the far corner where some enterprising cowboys had dimmed the lights. Yeah. Sounded like a plan. He danced her across the floor, navigating dancers, cuddling her close and reveling in the softness of her body brushing his, her enticing scent of vanilla and the crisp outdoors.

  The song ended and he stepped away from her. “Want a drink?”

  “Sure. Emily and Saber are over in the corner. Do you want to sit with them?”

  “Do you want wine?” Damn, the woman ate him up with her eyes. She shouldn’t do that—not if she knew what was good for her.

  Lana winked, her dark lashes sweeping over her cheeks in a sexy fan. “Perfect.” His gaze drifted to her soft, glistening lips. Appealing and sensual. He fought the urge to dip his head and claim her mouth.

  “Sit with Emily and I’ll bring over the drinks.” He started for the bar before stopping and turning back. “Lana, don’t dance with anyone else.”

  “But that wouldn’t be polite.”

  “Fuck polite. You offered me the weekend.” Duncan strode off to the bar, urgency simmering through his veins. The bloody woman made him crazy. He recalled their lovemaking, the sensation of burying his cock deep in her hot pussy and now he craved a repeat. Once with Lana wasn’t enough.