by Maisey Yates
Maybe because everything about him was arousing.
He picked up a condom packet and brought it back over to the tub, setting it on the rounded lip carefully.
“Scoot up, princess. I’m coming in.”
Princess.
No one had ever called her that before.
It was like Gabe was bound and determined to make a laundry list of firsts for her. Even when they were things she had never noticed or thought about before.
He pushed out her shoulders gently, and she leaned forward. Then he planted one foot in the tub behind her, then the other, sliding down slowly so that he was behind her, and her head was now resting against his muscular chest.
“This works for me.”
He went back to massaging her, back to her breasts, where he teased and tormented her until she was wiggling against him.
She could feel his erection, firm and insistent against her back. Could feel how much he was enjoying this, too.
If he put his hand between her legs, he would feel just how wet she was.
And as if he read her mind, he slipped his fingers between her thighs then, delving between her folds and stroking her. Those calloused fingers creating just the right amount of friction and sending little ripples of pleasure through her body.
“Don’t be quiet now,” he whispered in her hair. “I like when you make noise.”
He moved his thumb in a firm circle around that sensitive bundle of nerves there, and she bucked against his hand, an involuntary cry escaping her lips.
“There you go,” he said, a smile in his voice.
He kept stroking her, whispering words of encouragement in her ear.
“That’s good, that’s good, baby,” he said, pushing his fingers forward and pressing two of them deep inside her. She arched against his hand.
“That’s right,” he said. “Come for me, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl.
She was his pretty girl.
Pleasure crashed over her like a wave, intense and blinding, and humiliatingly, she found tears in her eyes again. But this wasn’t about the intensity of the orgasm—though it had been off the charts.
Pretty girl.
He made her feel fragile.
He made her not hate that fragility.
And she didn’t know what to do with that except roll over onto her stomach and slide herself on up his body, kissing his lips and taking it as deep as she possibly could.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, sliding them down in the tub just a little bit and positioning her so that her knees were on either side of him, so that the thick length of his arousal was resting right there where she needed him most.
Their bodies slid together, their breath mixing, harsh and broken as they continued to kiss. As she rolled her hips against him, as she felt the build of another orgasm, impossibly soon after the last one.
And that deep, wonderful pleasure took away her thoughts. Took away some of that unwieldy emotion that she wasn’t ready to deal with. Some of those questions inside her that she wasn’t ready to have a conversation with.
He grabbed hold of the condom packet then and tore it open, shifting her to the side and rising up out of the water just enough to slide it over his body and protect them both. Then he settled her back over his lap again, prodding the entrance to her body.
She bit her lip, lowering herself on him slowly, the water making her buoyant, but making their skin slick.
She clung to his shoulders, dug her nails into him to keep hold as she rocked back and forth against him, building the sensations between them until they were both shaking.
“Quit messing around and ride me,” he said, his voice rough.
A smile touched her lips. “I’m an expert rider,” she said.
“That’s what I hear,” he said, moving his hand down her back, cupping her ass and squeezing hard. “I’m looking forward to a demonstration.”
She rolled her hips upward, then back down, gratified when he let his head fall back, when his eyes closed.
But they didn’t stay closed for long. No, he opened them again, looking at her with those blazing blue eyes that she was sure could see right into her soul.
She rode him until her thighs hurt. Until she thought she would die from holding back one more moment. She needed to come. She needed to... She needed... He slid his hand deeper between her legs then, worked his fingers around where their bodies met, the intimate contact so shocking, so intensely pleasurable, that Jamie forgot to hold anything back at all.
Her fingernails went right into his skin as she screamed, burying her face in his neck while her orgasm overwhelmed her.
When it was done, she was limp, boneless.
Lying against his chest, her hands splayed over his muscles, feeling the intense pounding of his heart between her hands.
His eyes were glassy now, and he kissed her, holding on to her chin as he did. Taking it slow, taking it deep.
He tightened his hold on her as he slipped from her body and maneuvered himself out of the tub.
He turned away from her, taking care of practicalities before grabbing hold of a towel and holding it out for her.
She let him wrap it around her when she got out, let him carry her back into the bedroom and deposit her on the bed.
She didn’t know who she was, letting a man do these things for her.
But right now she was a little bit too tired to keep on fighting it.
She was really tired.
It suddenly crashed into her. And it had nothing to do with today.
It might just have to do with her life.
And right now the towel was soft, the bed was soft and Gabe was just the right kind of rough.
He dried her off, took the towel from her and settled her beneath the blankets before joining her, fitting her up against his body and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“Do you want to eat?”
“No,” she mumbled. “I just want to go to sleep.”
“Well, if you want some toast, just say the word.”
She didn’t say anything. She just smiled. And then she rested her head back against his chest and closed her eyes.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JAMIE WOKE UP in the early hours of the morning. When it was still dark outside. The stars were weak against the velvet gray, fading away to clear the path for the sun.
And Gabe Dalton’s very naked body was pressed up against hers.
She’d never shared a bed with another person before.
Those realizations, those first times, were playing on an endless loop in her brain. A single one couldn’t pass without her notice.
And why not?
She was having an experience. And she’d never really been someone who was interested in having experiences just for the sake of them.
But she also didn’t back down from things when she wanted them. No matter how big or how scary. And even though she knew this wasn’t going to be...anything other than whatever this was—this strange, naked friendship where they talked about their lives and worked together, slept together.
Shared the same air.
Yeah, she knew it was never going to be more than this. But it was quite a lot as it was. And she wanted to memorize each and every detail of it.
She rolled to the side, looking at his profile, pressing her hand to his chest. It was well muscled and hot. There was hair there and she didn’t know if she’d ever tire of running her palm over it and feeling the difference in texture between his own skin and hers.
There was something exhilarating about this. About being in bed with him. Not just having sex, but being.
Under the covers. Against each other.
She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pressure in her chest.
She felt another pressure�
�pressure in her bladder—and wiggled away from him. He grunted, a very masculine sound, and rolled over onto his back. She got out of bed and stood, facing him. There was just enough light in the room to make out the outline of his masculine form.
His arm was thrown up over his head, the blankets down around his waist, exposing his body.
He had a beautiful body.
A whole different kind of beauty than she was used to seeing. She enjoyed a view of the mountains as much as the next girl. But she didn’t usually want to press her face against it and lick it.
That was what she wanted to do to Gabe’s body. Every time she looked at it.
She shivered slightly and tiptoed into the bathroom, still completely naked.
They’d woken up a few times during the night, and he’d reached for her, and she’d gone to him willingly. At about two in the morning he’d made her toast and hot chocolate, and they’d both eaten in bed, before going back to sleep.
Just remembering it made her feel tingly all over. Then made her feel very tender in her chest.
She looked at herself in the mirror, looking for differences again. She didn’t look different. It was the strangest thing. She expected to see some vibrant, classically beautiful woman staring back at her. Someone who looked a lot more like Crystal from the bar. But it was just still Jamie. And she couldn’t deny that there was almost a comfort to that sameness. Gabe was responding to her.
Whether it made sense to her or not, that was the truth of it.
There must be some power inside her she couldn’t see. Some kind of feminine appeal in her slight curves, her athletic body. She doubted there was any in her stick-straight hair.
She stepped away from the mirror and went to the bathroom, and then returned to it, washing her hands and looking around at the items on the top of the counter.
She dried her hands slowly, taking inventory of what was there. A razor. Aftershave. A bottle of cologne—which was funny, because she didn’t think she’d ever smelled cologne on Gabe. Not that she was overly familiar. But her dad and brothers were the same. They had it, even if they didn’t wear it.
It was funny to be around all these masculine items, which were so familiar to her but felt so different when they belonged to Gabe.
Seeing them, seeing the brand of soap that he used, the kind of razor that he shaved his face with, the scent that he probably saved for only special occasions... It seemed intimate.
Somehow, these very familiar things became foreign, strange and wondrous.
She took a deep breath and moved away from the sink, leaving all of his things behind, and then she went back into the bedroom.
He was sitting up, the lamp on the nightstand turned on. And suddenly, she felt a little bit more embarrassed about her decision to roll out of bed naked.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” she responded.
“Don’t get all shy on me now.”
“I’m not,” she mumbled, edging toward where her clothes were.
“Yes, you are.”
She held her hands out wide. “Well, I’m naked. Go ahead and look.”
“I am,” he said.
“What time do you want to head over to the ranch?” she asked.
“Sometime after breakfast. And coffee. And maybe...”
“Oh, surely not in the morning, too.”
He demonstrated then, very thoroughly, that yes, he did mean in the morning. They were so occupied with that, in fact, that they barely had time for coffee, much less breakfast, before heading over to the Dalton ranch to start the day.
He treated her to one last, lingering kiss before they got out of the truck and went their separate ways.
Jamie finished up with all of her assigned work pretty quickly, and decided to move on to running the barrel racing course a few times with Gem. Though she knew she was going to have to text Gabe and see if he wanted to come and evaluate the situation before she did. Considering she hadn’t been on the horse since she fell. Her bruise was looking okay. A mottled purple that wasn’t her most attractive feature, particularly since she was now intimate enough with a man to have him see it, but whatever.
It was funny, because a couple of days ago—it was impossible to believe it had only been a couple of days—she would have kept fighting Gabe on the whole him checking everything out thing.
She didn’t want to fight him. Mostly because she just didn’t want to have a fight.
Why?
He could come and watch her and he would feel better, and he wouldn’t be upset. Then they wouldn’t have to waste angry words when they could be exchanging something far more pleasant. And just like that, she felt like she understood a concept she never had before. It was a strange thing. But it seemed like a minor mystery of the universe had just clicked into place for her. Sometimes you didn’t fight, because it didn’t matter if you were right. Because there was something bigger than right. A relationship between you and another person that you wanted to keep on steady ground.
Again, it was a way that her relationship with Gabe was completely different from any relationship she’d ever had with family.
That was different. She and her brothers were mean to each other, because they always had been. It was a right of birth, and they had to love each other, anyway. It was difficult to be strident with Beatrix because she was so soft herself, and going too hard at her made Jamie feel mean. Though she knew that she had definitely bulldozed her on more than one occasion in the past.
She just never thought about it. It was her knee-jerk reaction to try to prove that she was tough and she could handle things. To make sure that everybody knew she had a firm idea of who she was, and that she didn’t need to be babied.
She supposed one of the big differences here was that she didn’t mind the way that Gabe babied her.
She paused, setting the barrel up on its end and resting her forearms on the top of it. She thought about last night. And she couldn’t help but smile.
“Getting ready to ride, cowgirl?”
McKenna was standing against the fence, her arms draped over the top rail, almost mirroring Jamie’s current pose.
“Yeah,” Jamie said, feeling a little bit embarrassed that she’d been caught fantasizing about her friend’s brother.
Of course, all things considered, it was fair enough, seeing as McKenna slept with Jamie’s brother.
Jamie frowned. That was a little bit of an intense connection.
“You know,” McKenna said, “not that long after I first came to the ranch Grant took me to watch you ride. You were going around underneath the covered arena, getting ready to do a demonstration for some of the guests. It was freezing, and we barely had very many people there. But you were ready to go. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve never been to a real rodeo, or anything like that.”
“Grant hasn’t fixed that yet?”
“He assures me that we are headed up to Sisters to see a good one in a couple of weeks.”
“That will be great,” she said, her heart aching a little bit, because she wished that she could be there. Wished that she could be riding at an event like that.
Maybe next year.
She would hold out for that.
It was strange, though, because while her heart ached when McKenna mentioned the event, and while Jamie definitely longed to be a part of it, the primary image in her mind was of Grant and McKenna together. Of them experiencing the rodeo with each other.
She sighed heavily. “Anyway. That will be fun.”
“Yes,” McKenna said, smiling. “Did Gabe tell you that I had dinner with him the other night?”
“No,” Jamie said, her face getting hot. “Why would Gabe tell me that?”
McKenna squinted. “You’re gonna play it that way, too?”
“What which way
?” Jamie tried to make her expression innocent. But she didn’t think she had an overly innocent face at any time, let alone when she was being deliberately obtuse.
“Gabe wouldn’t tell me anything, either.” McKenna looked irritated.
Jamie gave thanks for Gabe Dalton’s circumspect mouth.
“There’s nothing to tell.” She shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure what you’re aiming for.”
“He kissed you,” McKenna said, sounding incredulous. “He kissed you at that bar, and now you’re trying to tell me that nothing happened after that?”
“He was drunk,” Jamie said.
“No, he wasn’t. He drove home. And Gabe is way too much of a stickler to do anything idiotic like driving home drunk from the bar. He was sober, and he kissed you. I was drunk, and I advised that you go have a little fun with him.”
A little fun.
She supposed that sex with Gabe was fun. There wasn’t much point denying that. In fact, right now, if given the choice between barrel racing—which was the most fun Jamie had ever had until recently—and sex, she would choose sex.
So that, she supposed, proved Bea and McKenna’s points.
She schooled her face into a serene expression. “I just don’t know what you’re talking about, really.”
It was safe to say that while the sex she was having with Gabe was fun, they weren’t really having a little fun. It felt too deep for that. Too big. And so, she felt like technically, she wasn’t lying.
“You’re infuriating,” McKenna said.
“A constant in a world of change,” Jamie returned, grinning.
“I’m going to make Bea give you a pet rabbit.”
Jamie wrinkled her nose. “You will not. I don’t want a rabbit. I thought I made my position on rabbits perfectly clear.”
“She’ll give you one, and you won’t be able to return it because you will feel bad. You’ll make her cry if you refuse the rabbit.”
“I don’t fear Bea and her animal-related generosity.”
“You should,” McKenna said, squinting. “I might tell her to give you a raccoon.”
The very idea of that filled Jamie with horror. But she didn’t show it. “Bea only has one raccoon. And she would never give Evan away. She loves him. Possibly more than she loves Dane.”