Tonight he needed speed which was faster than lightning and in his mind, swifter than any speed boat. Tonight he needed to put out of his mind the one woman he needed to keep at a distance, and stop imagining how she would feel in his arms, how that ultra fine body of hers would feel molded tight against his. But what was really driving him insane was fantasizing about her taste and how delicious it would be on his tongue.
Damn. Casey Westmoreland was getting under his skin—and that was something he’d sworn not to let another woman do again.
* * *
Casey stood at her bedroom window and looked out, clearly seeing the mountains beneath a moon-kissed sky. Shivers ran all through her body at the memory of being in McKinnon’s presence tonight, sitting across from him at the dinner table trying to concentrate more on her food than on him.
And then there was the part of the night when she’d helped Savannah clear the table and he’d handed her his plate. The moment their hands had touched she felt a heated sensation shoot from the bottom of her feet all the way to the top of her head. There were also moments she had caught him staring at her like she was the dessert he would get after the meal. Just thinking about that deep look of desire she’d seen in his eyes had heat flaring up inside her and no matter what she did, there was nothing she could do to smother it.
She’d tried sleeping but her thoughts wouldn’t let her be. Heat would start in her stomach and move lower down her body while visions of McKinnon Quinn danced in her head. How could she concentrate on getting Prince Charming trained when something else dominated her thoughts?
Knowing going back to sleep was out of the question, she slipped into a robe after deciding to take a walk outside. There was a courtyard connecting the cottage to the main house that was surrounded by the flowers Henrietta had planted. It was a beautiful night and she wanted to stand underneath the Montana sky and smell the flowers.
She had been standing outside in the courtyard for well over fifteen minutes and was about to go back inside when she heard a sound. Her heart jammed in her ribs and her breath caught. She blinked, not sure if she was seeing things or if McKinnon was actually there within ten feet of her, sitting bareback on his huge black horse and staring at her.
She blinked again and watched as he slowly slid off Thunder’s back and she realized it wasn’t a hallucination.
She shook her head to clear it before her gaze latched onto his. She felt her breathing grow shallow as he slowly moved closer.
The moon overhead cast enough light on him and his devastatingly good looks to make her appreciate that she was born a woman. His hair hung loose and wildly around his shoulders, and he was bare chested and wearing jeans. His body was solid, muscular and for a moment her breath caught because he reminded her of a savage beast. But she knew that the man coming toward her—although private and reserved—was no threat to her. At least not physically. Emotionally was another matter.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked in a deep, husky drawl that sent goose bumps spreading all over her body. He came to stand directly in front of her.
From the moon’s glow she could see the intensity in the depths of his dark eyes. “I couldn’t sleep and decided to come out here for a spell,” she said as her hands automatically went to the belt around her robe to tighten it, fully aware that her meager clothing offered no protection nothing against the heat she saw in his eyes.
“You should go back inside,” he said in a gruff voice.
“I was about to,” she said, taking a gathered breath. Then she asked, “What are you still doing up?”
At first she thought he wasn’t going to respond, but then he said, “I couldn’t sleep either and decided to ride Thunder.”
“Oh.” She inhaled deeply. “Well, I’d better go back in. Good—”
“I know the reason why neither of us can get any sleep,” he said, taking a step closer to her.
She stared up into his dark eyes. “Do you?”
“Yes. We need this.” And then he wrapped his arms around her and lowered his mouth as his lips captured hers. Then he placed his hands on her hips, molding her body firmly to the fit of him. Without wasting any time, his tongue found hers and he heard her gasp at the contact and immediately knew…at thirty years of age, Casey Westmoreland had never been properly kissed before. And damn it all to hell, he planned on doing the honors, here and now.
His fingers tightened at her waist the moment he deepened the kiss, taking what appeared no man had before, an in-depth taste of her. Being inside her mouth felt soothingly warm and downright delicious. A wave of sexual need entrapped him when she parlayed each stroke of his tongue and his brain cells started to overload. At that moment nothing else mattered except having Casey in his arms, kissing her, devouring her this way.
One part of his mind said he needed to stop, but another part said to continue what he’d started since this would be the last opportunity he would have to do so. Tomorrow she officially began working for him and he would have to be sensible. He would not become romantically involved with one of his employees—especially this one. She was a Westmoreland for heaven’s sake! But tonight he wanted as much insensibility as he could get.
A sigh escaped from her mouth into his and he continued on and on, mating their mouths, exchanging their breaths, sharing their taste. His tongue moved all over her mouth, in every direction, sucked, licked, nibbled, dabbed, all while performing some of the most inherently erotic things he’d ever done to a woman’s mouth.
With no thoughts of ending it. Instead he wanted to take things further. He wanted to move his mouth from her lips and trace a path past her neck and open her robe, push her night shirt out of the way and capture the nipples he’d seen pressed against her tops.
He reached up, slipped his hand inside her robe and touched her breast and let out a satisfied sigh. Even through the lace of her night shirt he could tell that she was perfectly shaped. Then he loosened the front of her robe, needing to touch her if not kiss her there. The moment his hand came into contact with her breast, every part of him got harder and he felt like he was going to explode right then and there.
He pulled back from the kiss and before she could utter a single word, he leaned down and latched onto a nipple, sucked on it, licked it like a hungry man. He heard moan after moan gurgle up in her throat and she arched her back, giving him greater access to her breasts. He was greedy for her and could tell from the sounds of her moans she was in another world, enjoying his mouth on her. He wondered how she would feel if his mouth moved lower and invade another area of her body.
He shifted their positions, ready to lift his mouth to find out, when somewhere in the distance a coyote howled and McKinnon pulled back, but only so far. He still lingered over her nipple, took his tongue and traced the outlines of it again before raising his head and going for her lips again, testing her softness, savoring her taste.
“Casey,” he said quietly, as if the sound would break the spell they had gotten caught up in.
“Yes,” she responded, and he heard several tremors in her voice and inwardly smiled knowing he had placed them there.
“I definitely like the way you taste,” he said, pulling back and looking down at her, while putting her lacy tank top back in place and pulling her robe closed. He saw her bemused expression and he wanted to kiss it right off her face. He smiled. “You don’t kiss often, do you?”
She leaned forward and pressed her face against his chest as if in embarrassment. When she muttered a few words he couldn’t make out, he lifted her chin and tilted her head back so their gazes could meet. “When was the last time a man has thoroughly and completely kissed you?” he asked quietly.
“Never. I’ve never been kissed like that before. You’re the only man who’s done something like that to me.”
Her words made him tighten his arms around her waist and he lowered his mouth to hers again, needing another taste, one to retain in his memories forever. He deepened the kiss, mor
e than before and actually heard her purr. The sound sent blood racing to all parts of his body.
When they parted moments later they were both pulling in shallow and choppy breaths. Casey took a couple of steps back. “I think I really do need to go inside now.”
And before McKinnon could stop her, she took off in the darkness, hurriedly walking back toward the cottage.
* * *
High up on a mountain, another individual was finding it hard to sleep. Corey Westmoreland stood at the window gazing out, wondering if all was well with his daughter. She had called earlier to say she had unpacked and liked the cottage she would be living in for the next few weeks. But what she hadn’t said and what he couldn’t help wondering was how she and McKinnon were getting along.
He turned when he heard the sound of feet touching the floor and smiled as he watched his wife—the woman he loved more than anything—softly walk over to him and right into his outstretched arms. “Sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered softly against her ear, giving her a peck there.
“You’re worried about Casey, aren’t you?”
He nodded, knowing he couldn’t and wouldn’t keep anything from Abby, especially his feelings. “Yes. Clint and Cole are concerned as well.”
“Is it because she’s taken the job with McKinnon?”
Corey shook his head. “No, McKinnon and Casey are going to have to work out their own problems in that area. What her brothers and I are concerned about is whether she’s come to terms with what Carolyn told her all those years ago. Casey’s been going through a lot emotionally since finding out the truth.”
Abby nodded as she cuddled closer into her husband’s arms. “What I think Casey needs to help pull her life together is the love of a good man—and I believe McKinnon is that man.”
Corey shrugged. “He could very well be but he won’t let that happen. I told you about his medical history. Ever since he discovered that he’s a carrier of that rare blood disease, he made up his mind that he would never marry and father children. It was a hard decision for him. Then, a few years ago he met someone he thought would be the perfect mate, but once he told her the truth about his medical condition and his decision not to ever father any children, she left him high and dry. McKinnon has had a lot of hurt and pain in his life, Abby.”
“And so has Casey. That’s why they need each other.”
Corey shook his head. “McKinnon won’t see it that way.”
“I want to think that eventually he will. Everything happens for a reason. I think you and I are living proof of that. If it’s meant for them to be together then they will. All they need is time and opportunity, and with her living right there on his ranch, right under his nose, they will have that. McKinnon needs Casey as much as Casey needs him.” She lifted her head, looked into Corey’s face and smiled. “I have a feeling that before long, you’ll become the father of the bride.”
Corey returned her smile and pulled Abby closer into his arms. McKinnon was an outstanding young man but right now he was hurt and angry. He just hoped his daughter would be able to handle him. But then if anyone could, it would be a Westmoreland.
* * *
McKinnon slipped beneath the sheets after taking his second cold shower that night. He had gotten sweaty riding Thunder and hot after kissing Casey. If he thought he hadn’t been able to get to sleep before, he sure as hell wouldn’t get any now—not with memories of devouring Casey’s mouth and breasts so blatantly vivid in his mind.
She had tasted just like he’d known she would, and with a particular flavor that was all hers. And just the thought that she was a novice sent sensuous chills down his body. He wondered if the over-protectiveness of her two brothers as the reason for her lack of experience. He shook his head, dismissing that assumption. He had gotten to know Casey well enough to know that although Clint and Cole may have looked out for her over the years, it had been her decision regarding the level of her involvement with any man. Most women he knew at her age had been kissed hundreds of times—on every part of their body—and he couldn’t help wondering the extent of her knowledge. A part of him would love to find out, but another part—the one that knew maintaining distance between him and Casey was the best thing—fought the idea with a passion.
Passion.
And that was what he was trying not to think about, especially when it came to Casey. He definitely had to toe the line. There was no way he could treat her like he treated other woman he wanted in his bed. First of all, he needed to get that idea out of his mind because it wouldn’t. And to be sure of that, he would start keeping his distance beginning tomorrow. The only time he would seek her out was when he needed to know the progress she was making with Prince Charming.
Satisfied that he had at least gotten that much cleared up and settled in his mind, McKinnon sought a comfortable position in bed and hoped like hell he got some semblance of a fairly decent amount of sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
“Casey is doing a downright fine job with Prince Charming,” Norris said, glancing over at McKinnon.
“Is she?” McKinnon asked, trying to sound nonchalant but at the same time angry that his pulse rate always seemed to increase with the mere mention of her name. It had been a week since he’d seen her—at least up close. The day following the night they’d kissed, he’d made himself scarce, leaving it up to Norris to give her his expectations regarding Prince Charming.
He knew from Henrietta that she preferred taking her meals alone at the guest cottage, however, it seemed the two women had gotten rather chummy and shared lunch together at the big house every day. Once he’d known Casey’s schedule, he had adjusted his to make sure he wasn’t around when she was. But that didn’t really help matters because there were plenty of things to remind him of her presence. He caught the scent of her each and every time he walked into his home.
She had made things a little easy for him this past weekend by leaving on Friday evening to spend time on her father’s mountain, not returning until late Sunday. He had kept himself pretty busy going over breeding records but had found that every so often he would get up and look out the window as if anxiously awaiting her return.
And then at night whenever he went to bed, all he had to do was close his eyes to remember the feel of his mouth on hers, his tongue in that mouth and the flavor of her that seemed to be embedded in his taste buds. The bottom line was that he wanted to be with her the way a man needed to be with a woman.
Hell, he’d even gone into town a couple of nights ago to his and Durango’s old hangout, Haley’s Bar and Grill, but hadn’t seen a single woman he wanted to sleep with. The only woman he wanted was the one living in his guest cottage—the one who was definitely off limits to him. But still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t dream about her at night, wishing she was in bed with him while he stripped her naked and…
“Damn.” McKinnon cursed when he saw the cut on his hand, thanks to the barbwire fence he was trying to repair on a section of his property. He should have been concentrating on what he was doing instead of fantasizing about Casey.
Luckily for him the cut wasn’t deep, which meant it shouldn’t require stitches. But it would require him putting something on it. He had taken off his gloves to get a better grip on the pliers when the thing had slipped.
“You okay, McKinnon?”
He glanced over at Norris. “I got a cut from this barbwire and need to go up to the house to put something on it. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Norris looked at the cut, saw the amount of blood and lifted his brow in concern. “Maybe you need me to take you into town so Dr. Mason can take a look at it.”
“No, I’m up on my tetanus shots and it doesn’t need stitches. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay. I don’t want Morning Star and the Judge to have my ass if something happens to you. Why don’t you stay at the house and let me and the boys finish things up
here.”
McKinnon lifted his brow, wondering if Norris was about to accuse him of being more of a hindrance than a help again. He would be the first to admit that his mind hadn’t been focused lately for thinking about Casey but still…“And you sure you and the guys will have the fence repaired by morning?”
Norris chuckled. “Look McKinnon, I was repairing barbwire fences before the day you were born.” And for good measure the older man then added, “And I’m yet to get a cut on any of my fingers. Now go.”
“All right, I’m going,” McKinnon said, moving toward Thunder.
“I don’t know where your mind has been lately, but it’s been wandering quite a bit,” he heard Norris say, but refused to acknowledge the man’s comment by turning around.
A half hour after cleaning his wound, applying antiseptic and putting on a bandage, McKinnon walked out of the bathroom, glad Henrietta had gone into town to do her weekly grocery shopping. If she’d seen the cut on his hand, no matter how minor the injury, she would have harassed him until he went into town for Doc Mason to stitch him up.
He turned when he heard a knock at the door. Remembering that Henrietta wasn’t in, he moved through the living room to open it. Immediately his breath caught at the same time his pulse escalated and he felt a tightness in his jeans. Casey was standing there and the sight of her, the scent of her, suddenly made his skin feel overheated.
He cleared his throat, forced the lump down. “Casey, is there anything I can do for you?” he said as normal as he could while trying to force from his mind all the things he would love doing for and to her.
She seemed just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. “No. I was about to leave to go into town and wanted to know if Henrietta wanted me to pick up anything.”
It was then that he took in what she was wearing—a dress that that he bet would ruffle around her legs when she walked. It was light pink and the color made her look totally feminine, alluring and desirable. And she had light makeup on, and even added a dash of color to her lips. Lips he remembered kissing once and would love kissing again.
Ian's Ultimate Gamble ; Seduction, Westmoreland Style Page 19