Then his hand went to her knee and slid up her skirt.
Amy sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. It felt so damned intimate to lie next to him, not kissing, and just staring up at his face as his hand crept up her thigh.
“You tell me if anything I do bothers you. Or if you want me to stop,” he murmured. “And I will stop.” His hand moved high up along the inside of her thigh, practically brushing against her panties.
Her nipples were hard and aching, desperate for him to touch her again. “What do you want me to do?” she whispered, feeling vulnerable and exposed despite the fact that she was fully clothed.
“Just look at me when I touch you,” Caleb murmured. “I want to watch your face.”
Oh.
She gasped, one hand flying up to clutch at his shirt, as he carefully slid his fingers past the leg band of her panties and pushed into them. His hand was on her pussy, and she was embarrassed at just how incredibly wet she was. She’d soaked her panties with her need, making a mess, and she wanted to squirm with girlish horror.
“Look at how damn wet you are,” he murmured, his fingers gliding up and down the seam of her folds. “Never thought you’d get so fucking wet just from touching me.”
She whimpered, her lips parted, her breath panting. It was so hard to keep eye contact. She wanted to close her eyes and lean into the sensations. She wanted to hide away from him while he touched her—but with their eyes locked like that, there was no hiding. She felt utterly exposed with her arousal, and it was an alarming sensation. “Caleb,” she whispered, clutching harder at his shirt. “Please.”
His fingers parted her folds, and then one big, thick digit stroked up and down, moving through her slippery pussy in an erotic glide, and she gasped again.
He found her clit, and his stroking changed to teasing little circles, toying with her there like he had with her nipples. It made her entire body quiver, and she spread her legs wider even as she panted like a shameless thing, clinging to his shirt as he rubbed her toward an orgasm, staring down at her with those intense eyes. She tried to remain still, she really did, but he’d graze his fingertips over just the right spot and then her legs would jerk like a marionette’s and a little cry would escape her.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, watching her.
It made her feel beautiful, even when she felt awkward. The orgasm built and rose in her body, making her buck shamelessly against his hand as he teased her clit. She panted his name, wild, and ground against his hand, chasing that release. When it finally came, she cried out, her entire body arching with the force of her release, and her pussy flooding against his hand.
Just like she’d done to him, he kept touching her, wringing those last bits of pleasure out of her body, making her orgasm seemingly last forever until she drew up her legs, trapping his hand, and panted out a protest.
Instead of taking himself to the bathroom to wash his hands, though, Caleb just gazed down at her and licked his fingers clean of her taste, and that made her gasp all over again.
He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose as she snuggled up against him, basking in the aftermath of her orgasm. “Do you want me to stay tonight? Just to keep you safe? I can sleep on the couch.”
Did she want him to stay? Part of her wanted it desperately, but she also didn’t want to seem too needy, too clingy. She didn’t want to be that pathetic, useless woman like she’d been when married to Blake. So she shook her head. “I’m okay. I have Donner here. I’ll just push the couch in front of the door and if he tries anything, I’ll call you.”
“If you’re sure. I don’t mind staying. It’s a completely platonic offer.” He kissed the tip of her nose again, his expression tender.
It made her melt, but it also made her that much more determined to handle it on her own. Hadn’t she already leaned on him far too much? “It’s okay, really.”
“All right, then.” Caleb looked as if he didn’t quite agree with her choice, but he wasn’t going to fight her on it. “Want to see me out?”
She nodded, and it was hard to stand up with her legs as wobbly as a colt’s after that orgasm. How was it he could recover and seem so normal, while she felt as if she’d been pieced back together with string and bubble gum? Good lord. She felt wrecked—a good kind of wrecked, but still wrecked. Amy trailed at his side as he put his hat on again and gave Donner a quick goodbye rub—and she remembered how he’d licked his fingers after teasing her to a climax—and then he kissed her again. Hard. Possessive. Achingly wonderful.
“Almost forgot to give you your note today,” he murmured, and handed her the envelope.
She clutched it like it was a precious gift and watched from the doorway as he headed down the porch and toward his truck. Once he left, she shut and locked the door, slid the love seat in front of the doorframe, and then collapsed on the cushions to read her note.
Amy,
I had a great time tonight. I know I’m writing this hours before I even get to see you, but it doesn’t matter. I know I’m going to have a great time tonight. Just being with you is the best thing to happen to me, so there’s no “bad time” when you’re around. I get to look at your pretty smile and hear your voice. I get to talk to you. I get to be around you. Nothing about any of that could be a “bad time.” Anyone who says otherwise needs a punch to the face.
That includes Greg.
I’ve run out of things to say and I still have too much paper to write on. I guess I’ll tell you a bit more history trivia. Did you know that the Christmas tradition of mistletoe originated because mistletoe was considered a fertility drug? It’s another pagan ritual. Just between you and me, those pagans sounded like party animals.
I like the idea of a kissing ritual, though. Mostly I just like the idea of kissing you more.
Yours,
Caleb
She clutched the note to her chest and sighed. How was it that he could make each note funny and yet utterly romantic at the same time? She was going to be seduced by these notes by the end of the week . . . or less, given what had happened tonight. One more mention of fertility festivals and she’d be flinging her panties at him. He’d spend the night . . . and it wouldn’t be on the love seat; that was for darn sure.
Were they moving fast? Absolutely. But she was an adult, a grown, divorced woman. She could do what she wanted, and tonight, she’d wanted to touch Caleb and give him pleasure.
She had no regrets.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The rest of the week passed in a holiday blur. On Tuesday, he took her out sledding. They didn’t have actual sleds, but Caleb had assured her that a large cardboard box would be just as effective. She hadn’t believed him . . . until she’d rocketed down her first snowy hill and nearly crashed into a tree. It had been utterly exhilarating, and they’d raced up and down the hill like children until their sleds turned to wet, destroyed mush.
After that, they’d retreated to her house for hot cocoa and a steamy makeout session.
On Wednesday, he took her out to dinner in one of the neighboring towns and insisted on paying. It had felt like a date more than a Christmas tradition, but she didn’t mind. She liked dating him. Thursday, he arrived at her house with sticks, charcoal, and carrots, and they made snowmen in her backyard.
Donner, not grasping the point of snowmen, made sure to pee all over them.
Each night had ended with a passionate round of kissing and more caresses, to the point that Amy was having erotic dreams of her cowboy at night, and her body lit up the moment she saw him. She was besotted, and having so much fun that she didn’t care. Had any Christmas ever been so magical?
After the snowmen, they’d ended up on the love seat and she’d straddled him and rode his thigh until she came, panting. He’d held her as she’d come down from her orgasm, his fingers trailing up and down her back with lazy touches that
made her wish they had all night.
“Do you have to go soon?” she whispered.
“Soon,” he agreed. “How’s the new door lock working?”
“No complaints.” She hadn’t seen—or heard from—Greg in the last few days. He was probably avoiding her place, especially since Caleb’s truck was parked directly in front of her house. She’d told Becca about Greg’s intrusion and her friend had been properly outraged and reassured Amy that Greg was at heart a chicken and wouldn’t come around if he thought Caleb was there.
Even so . . . she wanted her cowboy to curl up with all night. Maybe she was getting greedy, but the thought of spending the night in Caleb’s arms (platonic or not) sounded like heaven. “Did you want to stay tonight?”
He stiffened under her, and she wondered if she’d moved too fast.
“It’s okay,” Amy said quickly. “It’s not that I’m scared. I was just, you know, curious.”
“I would, actually,” he told her, his fingers gliding up and down her spine. “I would love to stay all night.” His voice took on a husky note that made her thighs clench in response. “But I have to catch up with work, and we—me and my brothers—have to finish early. Which brings me to tomorrow night’s date . . .”
“Oh?” She sat up, acutely aware that she was still straddling him like a wanton. Was he canceling on her? Right after they’d just shared some intense foreplay that led to an equally intense orgasm? Really?
He nodded, his eyes somber. “My uncle Ennis is having a Christmas party for us at the ranch. That’s why we have to be done with ranch work early. I wanted to know if you’d be my date.”
“Oh.” Relief shot through her. “So you’re not breaking up with me?”
“Breaking up with you?” His brow furrowed. “You think I’m going to let you go anywhere now that I have you?”
For some reason, that statement—maybe it was the possessiveness of it—made her bristle. She climbed off his lap. “You aren’t going to ‘let’ me do whatever. I do what I want. You don’t own me, Caleb.” She marched into the kitchen, determined to compose herself.
“Amy,” he said, coming into the kitchen to confront her. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just . . . I have a stupid tongue.”
“I like your tongue,” she managed, trying to keep her voice playful. “Normally. But I don’t like being told I can’t do something. I don’t want a controlling boyfriend.”
“I understand.” He was silent for a long moment, and she wished he’d say more. That he’d apologize. Tell her she could do whatever she wanted. But he said nothing at all.
She put her hands on the sink, staring out the window at the snowy backyard. The kitchen felt tense. Awkward. Did she need to say something to put him at ease? But was she just making excuses then? Was she falling back into the same patterns if she did?
Caleb cleared his throat after another tense minute passed. “You should know . . .”
Amy waited.
“. . . that the moment I saw you, I told myself I was gonna marry you. But I figured that might be a bit too forward to trot out, so I say other dumb shit. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
Of all the things she’d expected Caleb to say, that wasn’t it.
He wanted to marry her?
She turned, gaping at the cowboy behind her. He stood there with his hat in his hands, a determined expression on his face. “Was . . . was that a marriage proposal?”
“No! Not yet, at least.” He flushed bright red, the contrast stark against his dark beard. “It’s just . . . sometimes I want to tell you that so you know how I feel. That hasn’t changed at all. I’ve wanted you ever since I laid eyes on you. I don’t want to own you. I don’t want to smother you down or make you be something you don’t want to be. I just want to be with you.”
All the tension in Amy melted. She watched as he fussed with the brim of his hat, his hands clearly nervous. This was hard for him to say, she knew. It was obvious in the tight sound of his voice, the way his hands pressed and crimped the edge of his hat.
“I . . . thank you.”
He nodded. “I’m just letting you know where I stand. So if I say dumb shit from time to time, remember that I’m also patient. I’ve waited months and months for you. I can wait longer if you need more time, but I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. You take as long as you need to get used to the idea, but I do want to marry you.” Caleb looked down at his hat, grimaced at the mess he was making of the brim, and then put it on his head. “But for now, I’d like to ask you to be my date for dinner at my uncle’s party. I think it’s kinda formal. He told us to dress nice and do our chores early so we could shower.” He looked pained at the thought. “It’s dinner and an ugly-gift exchange.”
She blinked. It was a lot to take in, what he was telling her. A declaration of intentions. Not a marriage proposal, just letting her know where he stood and how he felt, because that was who Caleb was. He was steady and solid and he didn’t change his mind like the wind. She knew where she stood with him . . . and it reminded her again that he was nothing like Blake. “I’d love to go to the party, but I don’t have anything to bring as a gift.”
“It’s an ugly-gift exchange,” he repeated. “The more hideous the better. You could always wrap up Humpy Santa and his wife.”
“I kinda like Humpy Santa,” she told him, chuckling.
That brought a smile to Caleb’s face and he was so handsome he took her breath away. “I kinda do, too.”
“I’ll think of something,” she told him quickly. “What time should I be there?”
If it was possible, his smile grew wider. “I’ll check.” He moved forward and put his arms around her waist, pulling her against him for another kiss. “You should know,” he murmured just before he put his mouth on hers. “This is me inviting you to meet the family.”
Oh shit. So it was. “You do move fast,” she breathed, dazzled by his nearness.
“I just know what I want.”
His confidence was impressive . . . and sexy. Now she was the one flustered and unsure. How had her tongue-tied cowboy gone from silent to seductive so quickly?
Her heart was in soooo much trouble.
* * *
* * *
If there was one thing Amy’s life prior to her divorce had prepared her for, it was attending a party. She picked through her party dresses before settling on a sparkly green number with a high neck and a completely open back. Unfortunately she’d pawned a lot of her shoes at this point, so she was going to have to wear her usual nude pumps, but that was all right. Hopefully no one would be looking at her feet. She pulled her hair up into a tight bun, and for jewelry, she put on a pair of dangly plastic Santa earrings—a gift from one of her students and his parents that she’d gotten earlier that day. She didn’t care if they were cheap or if they didn’t match her dress—she loved them.
She studied her form in the mirror once she was dressed. Her skirt barely came to her knees, and the back was open from the neckline to the curve of her spine. Was it a little overly sexy and potentially too dressy for a small Christmas party? Yes and yes. But she wanted to see Caleb’s eyes light up when he looked at her, so she wasn’t changing for anything.
The last week had been magical. Each date they went on felt more comfortable than the last, and it was clear that he’d put a lot of thought into each excursion. More than the snowman making or going to dinner together, though, she loved the letters. They were rambling and funny and heartfelt. Unpolished, yes, but she vastly preferred a heartfelt message to a slick, too-clever response. She’d kept every single one of them, neatly folded in their envelopes, at her bedside, and she might have read them a half dozen times each. Maybe more.
After dithering over her appearance for a few more moments, she grabbed her purse and put on her coat—the warm, thick one that he’d given her. Amy snug
gled into it for a moment, appreciating the fleece lining and the heavy bulk of it. This was a coat designed to be warm, not fashionable. It was another one of his honest, practical gifts, and she loved it.
“Come on, Donner.” She grabbed the dog’s leash and harness, working him into it. “You’re invited to the party, too.” The vet wanted her to bring the dog to “look him over” again, but she was pretty sure he just liked animals. It worked for her. Bringing Donner would be fun.
With her dog in tow, Amy took her wrapped ugly present and headed out to the car. She turned on the navigator on her phone and sang along to Christmas carols on the radio as she followed the directions to the Swinging C Ranch. This was her first time going to the ranch alone. She’d gone briefly last week to get Donner checked over, but she’d been too distracted to pay much attention, and she hadn’t driven. Since she was driving herself, she was forced to pay attention, and even in the darkness, she could see just how much land the ranch itself covered. Wyoming seemed to be a mixture of snowy mountains and wide-open spaces, and it was endlessly fascinating to her.
When she pulled up to the ranch, there was a row of cars and trucks already parked up front. The ranch house itself was big and sprawling, a log cabin–like monolith that loomed over the snowy landscape. She opened the door to her car and heard the lowing of cattle in one of the nearby pastures. That got Donner’s attention. His ears pricked and his tail thumped with excitement.
“We’re not chasing cattle today,” she told the dog as she took his leash. “Some other time.”
The front door opened and light spilled out into the darkness. It was Caleb, his big body silhouetted by the interior lights, and she could hear Christmas music coming from inside the house. He was wearing his cowboy hat, and judging by his body outline, he wasn’t wearing a jacket or any sort of formal suit at all.
Okay, so she was definitely overdressed.
Her Christmas Cowboy Page 16