To Tame a Wild Cowboy

by Lori Wilde

  One of her hands cupped his jaw, the other slipped to the snap of his trousers.

  He grabbed the wrist of her hand at his zipper. “Whoa, slow down. We have all night.”

  “I haven’t . . .” She panted. “Had sex since Kit died.”

  That stilled him. “That was over two years ago.”

  She looked a bit embarrassed. “Sex has never been a big deal for me . . .” She eyed him. “Until now. Until you.”

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I like sex. I’ve just never been particularly driven by my urges.”

  “Putting the needs of others first again,” he said, thrilling to all the things he wanted to show her, teach her about having fun in bed. “We’re changing that tonight.”

  “Meaning . . .”

  “Tea.” He leaned in to press his mouth against her ear and whispered, “You’re gonna come first.”

  The hum filled her head, filled every part of her as Rhett’s mouth claimed hers. She reeled with lust for him. She’d not had much luck with oral sex. Kit had been clumsy and sloppy, and she’d found it more of an irritation than a turn-on, but at the thought of Rhett going down on her, she shivered.

  The man knew his way around the female body; she had little doubt that he knew what he was doing. Maybe she would discover what all the fuss was about.

  Already she was moist in all the right places, blood throbbing low in her belly, heat spreading between her legs.

  She was fascinated by the pressure of his body flattened against hers and his sexy brown eyes that seemed to peek directly into her soul. His mouth moved from her lips to her chin, his fingers stroking her skin.

  His lips kissed the column of her throat. His hands slipped her top off, dropped it to the floor on top of his shirt. She felt it rather than saw it. She was too busy reveling in his hot, wet kisses. She wanted him so badly that her entire body shook like lava. She was alarmed by the scale of her desire, but her fear blanched in comparison to the terror she felt at the risk of doing anything that would cause him to stop.

  He stroked her breast with soft fingertips, his tongue at the hollow of her throat. “It’s okay,” he said. “Just let me take care of your pleasure.”

  Tara squeezed her eyes so tight that she saw little flares of white light, felt herself go limp against him. Let go in a way she’d never been able to let go before. Trusting him.

  “That’s right, Tea.” He breathed and waltzed her to the bed.

  Slowly, he slipped her Daisy Dukes off, along with her white cotton panties. She wished like hell she’d gone to Victoria’s Secret, bought something red, skimpy, and lacy for his enjoyment.

  “I’m sorry about the panties,” she said. “I wore them with the no-sex clause in mind.”

  “You think the granny panties put me off you? You could wear a tow sack, Tara, and still be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She knew she was pretty enough, but she certainly wasn’t a beauty. But the way he said it, the way he looked at her, she believed that he found her beautiful, and that was all she needed.

  Still in his trousers, he sat down on the bed. She felt exposed in her nakedness; she moved her hands to cover her breasts.

  “Don’t be embarrassed with me,” he said, and gently moved her hands away. “I’m your husband.”

  Husband. Was that the sweetest word in the English language or what?

  He wrapped his knee around her leg, used it to lug the lower half of her body over his. She lifted slightly so he could scoot them both closer to the center of the bed. Kissed her again and set off a fresh round of humming.

  “You are so beautiful,” he repeated.

  Her heart skipped a beat. His face filled with wonder, fascination, love and sex and her. He was so strong, so masculine, so male. His hair was tousled, and his lips were wet from kissing her. He loved her. That was clear. He was in love with her. He hadn’t said it, but she could see it in him.

  “Oh . . . Rhett . . .” she whispered. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze.

  He burned kisses between her breasts. Suckled her nipples, first one and then the other. His hands were doing sensual things to her body; there was magic in his fingertips.

  He stopped for a moment and she opened her eyes, saw the raw insanity of his need flashing in his dark eyes just before he kissed her in the sweet, moist place between her legs.

  She spread herself wider for him, felt her pulse quicken and her breath thin.

  His lips were fueled by hunger and love. As soon as his mouth was on her heated inner lips, the hum grew to more than just a sound. It was energy—pounding, pulsating, electrical. Vibrating throughout every cell in her body. Jolting her like a shock.

  A thrill swooped through her as his big hand slipped to her lower back and pressed her pelvis against his. Their bodies welding them together. She felt his erection through his pants, large and hard and throbbing.

  She kept thinking about what he’d said. I want a real marriage. I want us to build a real family with Julie. It was the most seductive thing anyone had ever said to her.

  Woozy, she felt as if she were being flung out into black space, weightless, airless. I’m in love with this man was all she could think, surrendered herself to the power of his magnificent mouth. Melted into the bed, into his palm that still rested at the small of her back, anchoring her.

  His mouth was everywhere. Moving, kissing, licking, sucking. Her world narrowed to the triangle between her legs and the miracle of his bold tongue. This man was an adventurer. He didn’t hold back. He tackled everything in life with verve and gusto, and she was the lucky, lucky beneficiary of his trailblazing.

  He consumed her. The headlong dash of pleasure stunned her senses, ambushed her in every way possible.

  “Oh Rhett, oh yes!” She entangled her fingers in his hair, holding him in place right where he was.

  He laughed against her skin, his hot mouth devouring her. The feel of his tongue thrusting inside her was beyond ecstasy.

  Within minutes she was tingling and quivering and crying out, “Rhett, Rhett, Rhett.” And in that exceptional moment when she experienced the biggest orgasm of her life, Tara’s mind separated from her body and she was nothing but a giant, pulsating hum of sheer sexual energy.

  The encounter was so otherworldly, it was as if she were watching herself from inside a long, dark tunnel and at the end was bright, white light. He was that light. Drawing her into his arms. Holding her close. Kissing her forehead. Tucking her tightly against him. He was so loose and easy. Relaxed and free.

  And exactly everything she’d never known she needed.

  “God, Tea.” He breathed. “That was . . . you are . . . simply amazing.”

  Her mind, still floating from her body, watched herself wind her arms around his neck and hold on tight as if her very life depended on him.

  Chapter 21

  Bear down: To ride with maximum effort, giving it one hundred and ten percent.

  Rhett didn’t know much, but he knew one thing for certain. He wanted Tara as his forever wife and he wasn’t going to stop until he convinced her that this marriage was as real as any other.

  What they’d just done was a great start toward cementing their status as man and wife, but he had more tricks up his sleeve and he wasn’t planning on slacking up until dawn.

  Tara was studying him from the crook of his arm, her head thrown back, her eyes on his face. She was completely naked. He was still wearing his trousers and socks. At some point, he’d kicked off his shoes, although he didn’t even recall doing it.

  She reached up to stroke the slight crook in the bridge of his nose. “You broke it.”

  “More than once.”

  “You’ve got a dangerous job.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s a long time between now and November. Who’s to say you’ll come out unscathed?”

  “Are you worried about me?”

  “Yes.�
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  “I promise not to get hurt.”

  “As if you have any control over it. Those bulls are the ones in charge.”

  “A fella can’t always control life. Sometimes you just have to take what comes.”

  “I do find that sexy, how troubles just roll right off your back.”

  “Tell me more,” he said, playing with her hair. “What else do you find sexy about me?”

  “The way you give everything you do one hundred and ten percent.”

  “That’s because I don’t do very many things,” he drawled. “Bull riding and . . .”

  “Sex.”

  “Well, now that you mention it . . .” He tickled her cheek with his fingertips.

  She shivered. “Why don’t you get out of those pants, cowboy, and give a hundred and ten percent to your new bride.”

  “Lordy, woman, you are brazen.”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “And stop with the ‘ma’am’ stuff. Just because I’m four years older doesn’t mean I want to feel four years older.”

  “Pfft,” he said. “Age is nothing. You’re in the prime of your life, Mrs. Lockhart.”

  “Mrs. Lockhart,” she murmured. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Me too.” He kissed the V of her hairline at her forehead. “I love your widow’s peak.”

  She put her fingers over the spot he’d kissed. “So did my grandfather. I inherited it from him. No one else in the family has one.”

  “You were pretty close with your grandfather.”

  “I was his favorite.”

  “Maybe because of the widow’s peak?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I love how smooth your skin is. No freckles or blemishes.”

  “I’m getting crow’s-feet.”

  “You mean these sweet little laugh lines?” He kissed her temple beside the corners of her eyes. “Beauty marks.”

  “I can see why women fall over you,” she said. “You are full of charming baloney.”

  “It’s not baloney,” he said. “It’s how I see you.”

  Her cheeks colored, and she seemed embarrassed by that. She trailed her fingers down his abdomen to the waistband of his pants. She’d already unbuttoned them earlier, and the band gaped wide at her touch.

  “Are you trying to distract me?” he asked.

  “I’m interested to see what’s inside there.”

  “You wanna see me naked?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” He slipped off the end of the mattress, stood. She peered up at him, a mischievous smile lighting up her eyes. He’d never seen anything sexier.

  He yanked off his pants and underwear in one swift move, saw both her eyes and her smile widen. He crawled back onto the mattress with her. She opened to him, knees splayed. He ran his hands up the sides of her legs, to her thighs and then her hips. Her soft belly was warm and quivering against his lips. He planted a row of kisses up to her straining nipples.

  Her feminine fragrance dazzled his senses. She smelled like wildflowers after a summer shower. Her scent stirred memories of picnics and treehouses, of cold watermelon and homemade ice cream, of family parties, Sunday school socials, and car trips to the springs at Balmorhea.

  He swept his hand lower, caressing her silky skin with this thumb, slipping it between her legs. She was slick with desire. He eased his thumb back and forth over her alert womanhood throbbing with heat and energy.

  Audibly, Tara inhaled on a gasp and her body went rigid. He’d struck gold.

  She was wet and ready for him. So wet.

  His erection swelled so big and hard, he thought he might pass out from the pressure. God, he needed release. Needed her.

  He trembled, starved for her. It was all he could do not to plunge into her without preamble, desperate and deep.

  “Condoms?” she whispered, reading his mind.

  Stopping the action for a moment, he hopped off the bed, raced to his overnight bag on the floor where Silas had left it. Dug around until he found the packet of condoms he kept in his luggage. He got a complete physical annually, but with Tara, he wasn’t about to take any chances. One day, when they were sure they were safe, he would ride bareback with his beloved. Until that time, he was taking all precautions. He wasn’t about to pass something dangerous to her.

  He returned to the bed. She took the condom from his shaking hand, opened it with her teeth and a low, fierce growl. Then she took him into her hand and rolled the condom on.

  She stroked him, slow and firm, with one hand. With the other hand, she cupped his balls in her palm.

  He hissed in a hot breath. “That feels so damn good, but you’re going to have to stop that if you want me to last more than eight seconds.”

  She giggled, and the sound sent delight bucking down his spine. “Eight seconds is fine for me—for the first time.”

  “My, my, someone is desperate.”

  “From the size of that hard-on, it’s you.”

  “Guilty as charged. Put the cuffs on me, Officer.”

  “Do you have handcuffs?” She sounded intrigued.

  “Alas, not with me. That kind of horseplay will have to wait until we’re home.”

  “Ooh, fun.” She clapped. “I’ve never played cops and robbers. At least not since I’ve been grown.”

  “We’ve got lots of things to explore, you and me.”

  “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store.”

  “I don’t want to oversell myself, but I am pretty good.” He winked.

  “Put your money where your mouth is, buckaroo.”

  “You like poking the bull.”

  Her chin shot up, happy and defiant. “So what if I do?”

  “You’re asking for a tickling, missy.” He wriggled his fingers at her.

  She squealed.

  He pounced.

  They wrestled in the bed. He caught her in a light headlock. Held her down while she squirmed against him. Nibbled her earlobe.

  “Oh dear God, what is that? I call foul.”

  “Am I hurting you?” Immediately, he let go.

  “No, no, you play dirty. Distracting me with your advanced sex techniques. Whatever you were doing sent tingles through my entire body.”

  “Well, c’mere, and I’ll do it again.” He covered her in ravenous kisses.

  She giggled again and inched back. He loved it when she giggled, since she rarely did. His serious wife was feeling carefree tonight, and he loved it.

  He went to work on her earlobe again, biting with just the right amount of pressure that had her writhing and panting in no time.

  “Please, Rhett,” she begged. “Let’s just do it.”

  “You want me?”

  “You know I do.” She wrapped her hands around his shaft and he was done teasing her.

  They were both primed and ready, and he slid into her warm, welcoming home.

  She gasped and sank her fingers into his shoulders as he shifted and slipped deeper inside her. She squeezed him tight with her inner muscles, and then he was the one gasping.

  He clenched his jaw.

  His new bride was frisky, moving and shaking, massaging his backside with strong fingers. His entire body contracted, tension-filled and lucid.

  Rhett slipped his palms underneath her lower back, grabbed hold of her lush butt, pulled her closer, diving in as deeply as he could go. She wrapped legs around his waist, her body surrounding his. He cradled her face in his palms, stared into her eyes.

  She clasped her hands around his upper arms, dug fingers into his biceps. “Oooh,” she cried, and her eyes gawked gauzily as if she were staring into the mysteries of his soul.

  He wondered then about her family’s strange legend, and if she heard the humming when she kissed him. She hadn’t mentioned it, so probably she had not. He felt sadly disappointed, even though he didn’t believe in the silly notion of humming heads when an Alzate woma
n kissed her true love. Aria had assured him she had not heard a peep when she’d kissed him.

  Rhett shook his head. Why the hell was his mind wandering when he had the most amazing woman underneath him? Get your head back in the game, cowboy.

  Tara snaked her arms around his neck and tugged his head down for a ravenous kiss. It didn’t matter if she heard the hum or not. They were married and the sex was sizzling, and neither one of them could get enough.

  They rocked and grunted, pushed and clung. Learning each other’s rhythms, their own special dance. They almost reached completion several times, but each time, he would pull them back from the edge, wanting this, their first time, to last as long as possible.

  Finally, worn out and het up, he could stall no longer, and he gave her his all. In the wonder of the moment, he felt something give, a loosening deep inside his core. Something swung open or dissolved or cracked or, hell, he didn’t know what, but it happened.

  A shift. A correction. An evolution.

  And when her inner muscles seized him, and contracted with a mighty squeeze, he knew there was no going back. He was gone and so was she.

  One last forceful thrust and they burst. Together. Hot and sweaty and victorious. An implosion of fire and heat and sensation.

  She mewled.

  He groaned.

  They shuddered in unison, ripped open by the same earthquake.

  Breathless, he disintegrated. Became formless, borderless. He was part of her and she was part of him and they were one.

  At least in the ebbing flood of the moment. They lay clasped together for a few shallow breaths, then, wanting to give her breathing room, he tried to roll away, but she pinned him in place, her legs clutched around his waist. It felt damn good here. So he stayed.

  And he didn’t mind the least bit being held down.

  He pushed up on his elbows so that he could peer into her face. Normally, missionary position was his least favorite. Too intimate. Too much eye contact.

  But with Tara, he loved it.

  “You . . .” she whispered, and laughed, and brought her arms between them to hug herself. “That was . . . we were . . . fantastic.”

  “Terrific.” He wriggled his eyebrows.

  “Fabulous.” She grinned.