by Maisey Yates
McKenna took the opportunity of the two of them being alone to put in another endorsement for Jamie to have a little fun.
Jamie stretched her shoulders back, shifting her hands on the steering wheel.
“Bea worries,” McKenna said. “She’s soft.”
The implication, of course, being that Jamie wasn’t soft. And she wasn’t. She had never thought of herself as soft. Never.
“Well, if I decide to,” she said, giving her future sister-in-law a long look, “I’m not going to tell you, because you’ll tell my brother.”
McKenna pressed her hand to her chest. “Ouch. I feel wounded.”
“You’ve earned it. Why don’t you just go get some beard burn from my brother,” Jamie said, pulling up to the cabin that McKenna and Grant shared.
“A mighty fine idea, Jamie,” McKenna said, getting out of the truck and stumbling a little bit, reminding Jamie that her friend was slightly tipsy.
She imagined that would translate to a good time for Grant.
It didn’t even gross her out. It just made her feel oddly morose.
Jamie pulled away from their cabin after McKenna was safely inside. Then she drove slowly back to her house. She pulled in, feeling restless and antsy.
Both of her friends had obviously gone home to get busy. And Jamie...
She could. She could be with a man she wanted if she felt like it. He put that on the table. Had kissed her until she couldn’t breathe.
And yeah, maybe putting first kiss and first time into one night was a little bit of a tall order, but she was twenty-five years old. She didn’t think it was past time, or anything silly like that. She didn’t think there was a time.
But there was no reason to wait, either. She was a woman who knew herself. Who knew her mind. She was attracted to Gabe Dalton.
And suddenly, she realized that a lot of the strange resistance she’d put up to him had been about that. Had been some kind of weird protection, in case he wasn’t interested in her. Because it had honestly never occurred to her that he might be.
She was...well, plain-Jane Jamie Dodge.
Good with horses. Good at a whole lot of things, but not especially accomplished when it came to seducing men.
She had always imagined that men like him would go for the women like Crystal. The buckle bunnies. And yeah, maybe a little bit of her hostility had been down to that. To pretending she didn’t want something she didn’t think she could have.
Well, she could have it.
Could chase all those wonderful, physical feelings he’d ignited inside her when he kissed her out behind the saloon. She turned around in her own driveway, headed out down the highway.
Her heart was thundering hard, her hands feeling a little bit clammy.
She felt...
Not nervous.
No. It reminded her of when she was sitting on her horse, the barrel set up in front of her, ready to go. Reminding her of what it was like to launch into the most wonderful, exhilarating thing she knew how to do.
She’d never been to Gabe’s house, but she had a vague idea of where it was.
It had been pointed out to her several times by Wyatt, Bennett and once by Beatrix, when they had been driving down the highway. But then, that was common enough in an area like theirs.
Rural directions.
You didn’t give street names so much as talk about something being two miles past Gabe Dalton’s place, around the corner from the big field of cows and past that big red totem pole on the left.
That meant it was essential to know where people lived. And it was proving to be handy to her now.
Even in the dark, she could find the red mailbox and the big, natural wood arch that stretched over the end of the driveway.
And the metal sign that said Dalton.
It was difficult to tell in the dark, but she had the sense that his father’s place—which was ornate and nearly overwrought in its detail—was completely different to Gabe’s.
She was proved correct when she pulled up to the house. Two stories and made of logs, like her family home, with a large front porch, and one light on shining through the window.
She realized, obviously a bit too late, that what she was doing could be construed as a little bit creepy. But it was kind of too late to worry about that.
Because she was here.
She was here, and she had made up her mind already. She swallowed hard and got out of the truck, and had planted one boot on the bottom step when she realized she was wearing a very plain pair of underwear.
She had never given much thought to her underwear, since no one had ever seen it.
She had never worried about how frilly anything was. Or whether or not it matched her bra.
She liked sports bras, which kept everything kind of locked in and had generous elastic bands around the bottom.
She imagined a sports bra wasn’t considered hot lingerie by men, either.
Oh, well. She was here. She was here, and she was committed to doing this.
Plain white cotton panties, lime-green sports bra and all.
She took a breath and charged up the steps. And then she knocked. Firm. Sure. She heard footsteps, and then saw the top of his head through the window on the entry door.
It opened, and her stomach did a free fall down to her feet when those blue eyes connected with hers.
Gabe leaned against the door, his muscular forearm propping him up. “Under most circumstances, I wouldn’t have to ask a woman what she was doing at my house at this hour. But with you, I feel like I do have to ask.”
“Well, since I impacted on your ability to get laid earlier, I thought I would stop by and let you know that I’m available.”
There. She’d said it. About as open and honest and matter-of-fact as she could possibly be.
She was not going to play the part of blushing virgin. That just wasn’t in her. It wasn’t who she was.
Gabe had given her a taste of physical ecstasy up against that brick wall, and she wanted the rest of it. No need to be wobbly voiced and embarrassed about that. Especially not when she knew the guy was into her.
“Come in,” Gabe said, stepping to the side and allowing her entry. “Couple of things. You have to understand that this never had anything to do with your job. You don’t have to be here, Jamie. And you don’t owe me a damn thing.”
“I understand that,” Jamie said. “In any case, if you’d tried to hold my job hostage for sex I would have told you to go fuck yourself, because you certainly wouldn’t be fucking me.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and she had a feeling that she had said something right. “Fair enough.”
“What’s the second thing?”
He frowned. “What?”
“You said you had a couple of things. That was one thing. What’s the other thing?”
Something about his demeanor changed. His smile going laconic. His posture intentionally relaxed. “I’m not a relationship guy,” he said. “I like to have a good time, and nothing is off-limits in the bedroom for me, baby. But outside that I don’t have anything else, understand?”
She laughed. “Okay.”
He looked stunned. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“You made that grand announcement like I might have thought something different about you. Like maybe I was going to be disappointed? Gabe, if I wanted to get married and have babies I would hardly be aiming to start a professional career in barrel racing. And if I wanted to get married and have babies, I sure as hell wouldn’t be here with you. Like I said. I know about your type. I know about rodeo cowboys.”
“Jamie...this is just physical. I only have tonight, but I can make it count.”
“Do you have this all written down somewhere? Like a big speech you give?”
“What?
”
“This sounds rehearsed. Like you’re... You sound weird.”
He frowned. “I’m trying to be charming but honest.”
“I already know you’re not charming. And as for honest...well, you were more honest with me out by the bar. More honest with me on the trails when we were out riding. I like that Gabe, even when he pisses me off. I don’t need this one.”
“I...” He laughed, but it wasn’t full of humor. It sounded more surprised. “I don’t remember how to be that Gabe during sex.”
“What does that mean?”
“I hook up a lot, Jamie. And I like to make sure the women involved know the score.”
“Okay, are they all stupid?”
“I... Maybe. I don’t get to know them.”
“You know me,” she said, feeling annoyed and stubborn and she didn’t know why. “You know me, so you don’t need to play a part. I don’t want you to. If you’re going to act like someone different I’d just as soon find someone different.”
He firmed his jaw up, a muscle there jumping. “I’d rather if you didn’t.”
“Good. Well. I’d rather not. Honestly, I didn’t see the appeal of cowboys until you. Mostly because...to me...it’s not that exciting. I mean, other women might get het up over some guy flinging himself around the back of an animal. But basically, every man I know does that.”
“So you don’t find me exciting?”
“Not particularly. I think you’re sexy, though.” Saying that made her cheeks heat a little bit, but she did her best not to let him see.
The corner of his mouth lifted upward. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I’m not a blonde in a skintight dress—that’s just a fact. But I’m not afraid of dirt or sweat or sore muscles. So I suppose that might work in my favor.”
She could see him debating something for a moment, and then it was like a switch flipped. That light, easy glint in his eyes went hard. Feral.
And she liked it. Liked this version of him much, much better.
“You bet your pretty ass it does,” Gabe said, reaching out and wrapping his arm around her waist.
All the air was sucked from her body. It was still such a strange thing, to be close to him like this. To be held right up against him like this. He was so big and hot, so incredibly arousing.
She was already aching between her legs again. And he hadn’t even kissed her.
And when he did... When he did, she felt like she’d caught fire.
They weren’t in public now. Weren’t on a street in Gold Valley, where anyone might be able to see them. They were in Gabe’s house. Alone.
No chance of interruption.
It made her feel so...strong. And like so much of a woman. In a way that she never really had. She could be here, she could do this. Nothing and no one could stop her.
And this man... He wanted her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, parting her lips and sighing with pleasure when he slicked his tongue against hers. She really liked it when he did that.
But then he surprised her, moved his big hands down, over her butt, down her thighs and lifted her up off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist as he kissed her and held on tight, walking them both away from the door, and up the stairs.
She pulled her lips away from his, and he pressed his mouth to her neck, down her collarbone. “What are you doing?” she asked, feeling dizzy.
“Bedroom,” he said, his voice husky, the word thick with pleasure.
Bedroom.
Her heart slammed into her breastbone, excitement fizzing through her.
She was going to Gabe Dalton’s bedroom.
She was completely okay with that.
He kicked open the door and carried her inside, kissing her mouth again as he sat her down at the foot of his bed.
He smiled, those blue eyes hot. Hotter than they’d been looking at that pretty blonde, and Jamie felt the most extreme sense of triumph that she’d ever felt in her life.
Better than getting a great score barrel racing.
Better than blowing up milk jugs with a .30-06.
Then he grabbed the hem of his shirt, and pulled it up over his head, exposing that incredible body to her.
She hadn’t even known.
She was around men who were in great shape. Had had a fair exposure to muscles all of her life.
But this was different. This wasn’t her brother, or a man who might as well have been her brother like Luke Hollister was.
This was Gabe Dalton.
Half-naked in front of her, with hard, cut abs, well-defined pecs and a sprinkling of dark hair over his skin.
Gabe Dalton, the man whose bedroom she was in, alone. The man she could do anything she wanted with.
She tilted her chin upward, grabbed the hem of her top and lifted it over her head. She was about to apologize for the lime-green sports bra, but Jamie didn’t apologize for much. So she was hardly going to apologize when she was presenting herself about a quarter naked to a guy she was going to have sex with.
He didn’t deserve an apology from her. No matter what her underwear looked like.
Anyway, he didn’t look like he required one.
His eyes only went hotter, and he closed the distance between them. He dragged his hand along the line of her jaw, and she closed her eyes for a second, luxuriating in his touch, the way she had wanted to do when she’d fallen off the barrel.
Today. That had only been today.
It didn’t seem like it. It felt like another lifetime ago. Maybe another body ago.
Because this one knew all kinds of things the one from eight hours ago hadn’t.
Knew all the ways that Gabe’s hands could make her feel good.
Hell, scratch that. She only knew maybe half the ways. She wasn’t even close to all.
But she was ready.
He pushed his hands beneath the elastic band on her bra, and then pushed the bra up, bringing it over her head in a fluid motion, one of the little straps snagging for a second on her hair tie, sending her ponytail swinging.
Her breasts weren’t anything to write home about. She could honestly say she had never given them much thought. They were small enough that they didn’t get in her way. And that was about all she required out of them.
But they ached now, beneath his gaze, her nipples going impossibly tight as he looked at her, hungry, and his eyes filled with masculine appreciation.
So maybe it was all right that they were small.
Gabe seemed okay with it, anyway.
He closed the distance between them again, but this time, when he drew her up against his body, they were skin to skin, her bare nipples to his bare chest. The hair on his chest was so rough, and the stimulation against her nipples felt...amazing.
She felt dazed, drunk on the scent of him. On the feel of his body.
She lifted her hand and pressed her fingertips against one pec, dragging her hand down low, skimming it over his ab muscles.
The fact that men’s and women’s bodies were different was something she had known like anything else.
In that distant, inexperienced sense that she had confused with knowing.
But it was like now she understood the purpose of it. Of the way his strength could make her feel.
His size.
The way those big, confident hands moved up her back, and around to cup her breast, the way his thumb skimmed over her nipple.
She gasped, her head falling back, a pulse starting to pound between her legs.
He growled, his lips crashing into hers, his kiss savage.
And Jamie submitted to it. But it didn’t make her feel weak. It made her feel strong. That she was created—at least it felt like it—to withstand the force of this man’s desire.
>
It was no small thing. He was beautiful.
So very beautiful.
Her hands were trapped against his chest, his heart raging beneath her palm, and he lifted her up off the ground with ease, one arm wrapped around her waist, and deposited her back on the bed, their denim-clad legs tangling together. And she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal against her stomach.
She’d made him hard.
She’d made a man hard.
Not just any man—Gabe Dalton. Who’d had his pick of soft, pretty women likely since he’d reached sexual maturity.
It made Jamie feel like an Amazonian goddess.
He kissed her neck, her collarbone, and then he moved his mouth to her breast, his tongue sliding over one tightened bud. She cried out, lifting her hips up from the mattress, bringing her into more firm contact with his arousal.
He used that wicked mouth on her in ways that she hadn’t known a man could.
He moved his hands down to the snap on her jeans and flipped it open, moving his big, calloused hand down beneath that fabric, beneath the fabric of those cotton panties she’d been bemoaning earlier, and pushed his finger through her slick folds.
She couldn’t hold back the hoarse cry of pleasure as his fingers lit a fire trail across her body. Pleasure so hot and reckless, it wasn’t like anything she’d ever known.
He chuckled, and her eyes flew open, watching his face as he teased her beneath her fully clothed lower half. He spread his fingers wide, pressing down on either side of that sensitized bundle of nerves down there, teasing and tormenting her, moving his fingertips to the entrance of her body, and toying with her there. Not giving her what she wanted.
She shifted, pushing her body against his hand, trying to force him to increase the pressure, trying to force him inside. She ached. Felt hollow. And she couldn’t even say for certain she understood why she instinctively knew what she needed.
“Impatient,” he said against her lips. “Somehow I should’ve known that you were impatient, Jamie.”
“What does that mean?” she panted.
He chuckled. “It just means I could tell that...from everything about you, sweetheart.” He removed his hand, grabbing the edges of her jeans and her underwear, and tugging them down her legs, leaving her completely naked beneath him. He settled back between her legs, the denim rough against her thighs, against other parts.