Big Sky Love

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Big Sky Love Page 7

by Cate Dean


  She lifted her head, and met his amused eyes. “I can’t believe you introduced yourself to Doc Garner as Charlie.”

  “I find myself liking the name. Especially when you speak it.”

  Nerves fluttered in her belly, and instead of doing the smart thing—standing up and walking away—she leaned in until her lips brushed his.

  “Charlie,” she whispered, watching desire flare in his eyes. “I want to kiss you again, Charlie.”

  He swallowed. “You’ll find no objection here.”

  Almost before he finished the sentence, she pressed her lips to his, reveling in the warmth, the touch. His hand curled around the back of her neck, warm, strong. He deepened the kiss, and before she realized what she was doing, she had straddled him, his arousal obvious.

  He eased away, and met her eyes. “Either you leave now, Kate, or I will have my way with you.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about you, about us, about this.” She pressed herself against him, and he moaned. “I want you, Charles de Witt. No matter what happens after today, I want you now.”

  He pulled her in and captured her lips again. This time, the kiss consumed her, leaving her breathless and wanting.

  “We stop now, Kate, or finish what is between us.”

  “Don’t stop, Charlie.”

  He kissed her again, and his hand slid down to cup her bottom. When he pressed her against his arousal, she moaned against his lips, and rocked into him.

  Her hands slid under the flannel shirt he wore, finding hot, bare skin, and strong, lean muscle. The kiss turned desperate, his tongue sliding against hers, his hand moving up her side until he found her breast.

  She let out a gasp and freed her lips. “I want you, Charlie. Skin to skin, heart to heart.”

  “Good God, woman. Help me undress.” His voice sounded raw, his eyes dark with the same desire that coursed through her.

  She paused, his injury, and his recent condition, finally penetrating the haze of need. “Your hand—”

  “I can manage with one, sweet.” She shivered at the endearment, at the way his accent wrapped around the word. “What I can no longer manage is your refusal.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He let out his breath. “Thank God.”

  Kate sat, flipped her braid over her shoulder, and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, watching Charles as she did. The need on his face threatened to steal her breath. No man had ever looked at her with such desire. He levered himself up, his hand brushing her breast. Even through the cotton camisole, she could feel the heat of his touch.

  “Charlie—”

  “You are so beautiful, Kate.” His finger closed over the hem of her camisole and tugged it up. She helped him, pulling it off, leaving herself bare. He smiled. “You have freckles here.”

  His lips brushed her sensitive skin, just below her collarbone, then he kissed his way down, over the curve of her breast, finally closing his mouth over her nipple. She arched her back, offering herself to his touch.

  She gasped when he slipped his left hand under the waistband of her trousers. “What—”

  He freed her breast, met her eyes. “I need to touch you, Kate.”

  “Yes.” She unbuttoned her trousers, shaking as he found her heat. One finger slipped inside, and she clutched the bedsheets. “God—”

  “I need to ask you a question, sweet, and I must have a truthful answer.” His voice sounded strangled, and when she looked at him, the sweat sliding down his face startled her. It also told her how much effort he was using to control himself. “I will not be angry, so please be honest with me.”

  “Okay.”

  He stroked her as he talked, and she could barely focus on his voice. “Are you still untouched, Kate?”

  She almost laughed in relief. “If that’s your way of asking if I’m a virgin, I’m happy to say that I am not.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and looked every inch the noble. “I have rarely heard a woman so proudly claim her lost reputation.”

  “I never thought of it as losing my reputation.” She swallowed, and grabbed his wrist. “I can’t think straight when you touch me like that.”

  “Good to know.” His lazy grin left her breathless. “Tell me.”

  “I was—” She lost her train of thought when his finger started caressing her.

  “Yes, sweet? Please, continue.” Good lord, he was teasing her, and he enjoyed it.

  “Fourteen. I was fourteen.” She lowered her head, and saw that she was rocking against his finger. Heaven help her, she wanted more. “I—fell hard for the son of a visiting rancher, and the—feeling was mutual. He was fifteen, and we were each other’s first love. Oh, good lord, Charlie.”

  “You have been with a boy.” He eased his finger out of her, and she felt empty, her body yearning to have him back. He sat, kissing her hard and fast. “Now, you are going to know what it is to love a man.” He leaned down, and kissed the tip of each breast. “Finish undressing, sweet, and join me.”

  Kate climbed off him, her trousers halfway off by the time her feet hit the floor. She stepped out of them, slipping off her drawers. The cool air touched every inch of bare skin, and she shivered, not sure if she could do this.

  Oh, she could do it. But she knew that loving him, knowing him like this, would only make it harder to leave him.

  “Second thoughts, Kate?”

  “No.” She took a deep breath and faced him. Her eyes widened as she got her first good look at him. All of him. “Charlie...”

  He was beautiful. Long and lean, but also muscular. He lounged on the bed, obviously comfortable in his own skin. Her gaze landed on his arousal, and she swallowed, wanting him, and afraid of that want.

  “Come here, Kate.”

  Her heart pounded, heat coiling in her belly. “Charlie—”

  “Let me touch you. If you want to stop, all you need is to say the word.”

  He looked like he was in complete control of any emotions—unlike her. Every inch of her body yearned for his touch, and she trembled with the need of it.

  “Okay,” she whispered. She moved to the bed, took a deep breath, and sat, her back to him. His left hand spread over her bare back, and to her surprise, his touch calmed her. She swung her legs up and stretched out next to him. “You’re beautiful, Charles.”

  “I believe I prefer Charlie.” His smile made her tremble again. “I have been called beautiful, by countless women.” He pressed his finger to her lips when she opened her mouth. “You are the only one I have ever believed. Come here.”

  She curled into his side, reveling in the feel of his hot skin against hers. Charles refused to let her huddle at his side. He slid his arm under her and lifted until she was sitting again. Then he freed her, patting his left thigh. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she understood what he wanted.

  “I don’t—”

  “I have one hand, Kate, which excludes any lovemaking where I am on top.” His open discussion of what they were about to do left her both excited and terrified.

  “Right.” For the first time, she felt her inexperience. “What do I—”

  “Straddle me, sweet, as you did before.” He winked at her. “I believe you can figure it out from there.”

  She surprised herself by laughing. It was freeing, and eased her nerves. Then she followed his direction, straddling him, his arousal hot and thick as it pressed against her. Charles swallowed, and for the first time, she saw his control waver.

  As if they had a life of their own, her fingers closed over his long, thick length. He sucked in his breath, but kept still, waiting for her to move them forward, or not. Kate wanted more.

  She lifted herself, guiding him to her heat, and paused.

  “Charlie.” He met her eyes, his breathing shallow, labored. “I want you to love me.”

  “My pleasure, sweet.”

  He curled his hand around her hip, and eased her down.

  She gasped as she took him in. The boy she loved a long ti
me ago had never felt like this. By the time Charles filled her, she was gasping for breath. Then he started moving and she lost what little breath she had.

  “Charlie—”

  “Hold still for me, sweet.” He sat, pulling her in tight, and sank even deeper. “Good God, Kate.” He rocked against her, and she moaned. “You feel incredible.”

  “I don’t—what do you want me—to do?” She could hardly think, much less form a complete sentence.

  Charles kissed her, moving inside her, slowly. Heat flushed her skin, and she wanted, needed to feel him deeper.

  “So far, you have managed—quite well.” Thank heaven she wasn’t the only one affected by this. “When you are ready, I need you to move.”

  “Like this?” She braced her hands on his shoulders and stroked him. Her body tightened around him, that heat washing through her.

  “Perfect,” he whispered.

  He lowered his head, and took her sensitive nipple in his mouth. Kate bit back a cry and arched into him. He throbbed inside her, and she fought the urge to move faster. She wanted this to last as long as possible. After tonight, she would have only the memory of this, of him.

  He took the choice away from her when he freed her breast and thrust up, hard and fast.

  “Charlie—oh, sweet heavens—please, don’t stop.”

  “No chance—of that.” He stilled inside her, and leaned forward, whispering against her lips. “Will you allow me a favor?”

  “Yes.”

  He eased back, smiling at her. “I have not asked yet.”

  “Right now, as long as we can keep doing this, the answer is yes.”

  “Will you sit on the end of the bed? I need—I need the freedom to love you more fully.”

  She understood what he wanted, and nodded. Carefully, she lifted herself, moaning as he slid out of her. It was temporary; her mind knew that, even as her body screamed to have him back inside her.

  Charles slid off the bed, meeting her at the end. He knelt in front of her, gently widening her legs, then moving forward until he pressed into her heat.

  She let her head fall back. Let him take control this time. He rewarded her by easing himself inside, one hard, thick inch at a time. Then he started moving, and she arched off the bed to meet each thrust.

  He captured her lips, his kiss hot and fast, his tongue sliding against hers, mimicking the deep, hard strokes. Kate dug her fingers into his hips, wanting him deeper, faster. Her body tensed, every stroke taking her higher. She fought to breathe—and let out a choked cry as he drove into her.

  Charles freed her lips, and lowered his head, all his focus on loving her. Heat rushed through her, a warning she remembered. She tried to stop it, but the sensations were too intense.

  He held her as she let go, then fell with her.

  SOMEHOW, CHARLES MANAGED to get them both on the bed, and under the scratchy sheets.

  He still fought for breath, his body throbbing with the aftermath of their lovemaking. Kate was stretched out beside him, just as breathless, and grinning like a fool.

  Charles had a feeling his expression was not all that different.

  She rolled against him, her face pressed into his throat. “That was—I have no words.”

  He smiled, and kissed the top of her head. “I am thrilled that I performed beyond your satisfaction.”

  With a laugh, she slapped at his chest. “Braggart.”

  “I have been revealed.” He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “You, my sweet Kate, have been a surprise.”

  Charles was underplaying his response to her. This tiny, feisty woman had done what no other woman had been able to accomplish; she had touched his heart.

  He realized, with a shock that nearly took his breath that he wanted to spend the rest of his life figuring her out, discovering the depths of her mind, her heart. That possibility was, of course, all in her hands.

  Thanks to Adriana’s damned rules, he could do no more than toss hints at her. Morning would bring with it his fifth day, and he knew Kate’s focus was on preparing for the cattle buyer. As it should be.

  He swallowed, and rolled to his back, the despair that had tainted every breath in the cavern threatening to overwhelm him again.

  “Charlie?” She laid her small, callous-rough hand on his chest. The contrast between her work hardened hands and her soft, silky skin was another part of her he wanted to explore, every day, for the rest of their lives. “What’s wrong? Is it your hand?”

  He had not given a thought to his hand since their first kiss. It still hurt, but he recognized it as the pain of healing.

  “My hand is fine, sweet.”

  She curled against him, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in tighter, wanting to savor the feel of her for as long as he could. He tensed when she picked up the emerald pendant.

  “This is beautiful. Did a woman give it to you?”

  He just managed to keep from flinching. “In a manner of speaking. It was meant as a gift, but I was never able to give it to the intended recipient.”

  She tilted her head up and met his eyes. “I don’t care about any women in your past, Charlie. Unless you carry a torch for any of them.”

  He smiled. “I do not.”

  Relief crossed her face. “That’s good. I’m not ready to give you back to your fancy world yet.” He closed his eyes briefly, and hope coiled through him. Her next words struck his newly opened heart. “I’m going to ride back to the ranch. I want you to stay here—at least for today. You need to rest, and I don’t expect you to work with your hand.”

  “Of course.” He eased himself away from her, and sat.

  “Charlie.” The amusement in her voice snapped his head around. He opened his mouth to throw one of his famous cuts; it died in his throat at the tenderness in her eyes. “I’m not leaving right this second. We have until breakfast, and there’s more of your beautiful body to explore.”

  Her grin aroused him as much as the sight of her. She knelt on the bed, fiery waves falling to her narrow waist. He wanted to count every one of the freckles on her lovely, heart-shaped face, then move to her small, firm breasts, already puckered and waiting for his touch.

  With a low growl, he yanked her forward and took possession of her lips. Her gasp of surprise changed to a moan when his hand found her breast, teasing her until she squirmed against him.

  Charles knew there would be no need for games with her, no holding back to preserve her fragile sensibilities. Kate was a strong woman, in body and spirit, who cared more for the welfare of others than how she looked, or if a hair was out of place.

  He smiled against her lips, thinking of any hairdresser attempting to tame her wild red hair. It was as much a part of her as her agile mind, and her brilliant smile.

  I love her.

  The shock of it stilled him.

  He let the thought sink in, and gentled his assault on her lips. He wanted to treat her with reverence, and the care she deserved. When he finally eased back, tears wet her cheeks.

  “Kate—ˮ

  “It’s nothing.” She wiped at them, giving him a tremulous smile. “You were so—tender. I’ve never been kissed like that, or held like I was precious.”

  He threaded his fingers through her hair. “You will always be precious to me, Kate Maguire. Remember that, whatever may happen.”

  She studied his face. “That sounds like goodbye, Charlie.”

  “If you do not declare yourself, I am afraid I cannot stay with you.”

  “What are you saying?” She sat, crossing her arms over her breasts, as if she were ashamed to have them on display.

  “All that I can, lo—ˮ

  An invisible hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed.

  Charles clutched the iron headboard, and fought to breathe.

  Stop it, Adriana—your message has been received.

  No speaking the L word.

  Her familiar laughter echoed in his mind—and a moment later she released him,
leaving him gasping for breath, his throat on fire.

  “—hear me? Charlie—look at me.”

  He lifted his head, and blinked his eyes clear. “All right,” he whispered. His throat punished him for speaking so soon after Adriana’s assault. Even from her grave, she managed to punish him.

  “You scared the life out of me.” Her fingers gently brushed his throat, and he flinched. “You have bruises, like someone was choking you.” She backed away from him. “What the hell is going on, Charlie?”

  “I am—unable to tell you more, Kate. You must trust me. If you have any feelings for me, you must—declare them in the next—ˮ Pressure on his throat told him he was stepping into forbidden territory again. “Soon,” he whispered. “Or I will not be able to stay.”

  “If you can’t explain how those bruises appeared, when it’s just the two of us here, you can leave right now.” She climbed out of the bed, slipping into her shirt. “I mean it, Charles. Give me a logical explanation, or I walk out the door.”

  “Please, sit.” She buttoned her shirt, then sat on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible. Charles could hardly blame her. He cleared his throat, using the time to gather his thoughts. “This pendant was given to me.” He touched the oval emerald, not surprised to find it hot to the touch. “By a witch. Before you object, or fling your disbelief, please hear me out.”

  Kate closed her mouth, and nodded.

  “Thank you. What I did not know at the time was that a curse lay on the pendant. A curse that trapped me, after I broke the heart of the woman I was spending time with.”

  “You being here now—is that part of this curse?”

  He nodded. “My second chance, if you will.”

  “You tried to say love, and this witch—strangled you? From wherever she is?” The sarcasm edging her voice hurt more than the anger in her clear blue eyes.

  “The witch is dead. But, yes, the curse resides within the emerald, and I carry it with me.”

  “If she’s dead, why aren’t you free? Isn’t that how most curses work?”

  “Perhaps in fairy tales.” He gave her a pale version of his smile. “Adriana was the most powerful witch I have ever met. I did meet her, more than once. She gave me ample warning before I triggered the curse. I believe she was trying to protect me, in her way. We shared a similar view of the world, and that most likely took her by surprise.”

 

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