by Vicki Tharp
That, and he had to find a way to convince her to let him use the photos he’d taken of her. It seemed like a dick move to ask her now, after Hines’ assault.
Taking a sip of the hot chocolate, she glanced up at him. “This is for your final entry.” Not a question, nor an accusation.
He offered no excuse. “Yes.”
In the quiet, her eyes got misty. He’d expected to see hurt, or anger, or hell, even a sense of betrayal, but he couldn’t read her expression or her silence.
In his defense, he added, “I know we had a deal. I respect that. I’d planned on asking you before I sent it in.” Now he started to prattle, his nerves egging him on. “Trust me, I don’t want what happened before to happen—”
“This is your only entry.” Again, a certainty, not an inquiry.
As much as he wanted to win that contest, the cost of losing her to achieve his goals wasn’t a price he could pay, even if their relationship had an expiration date. He blew out a breath and nodded. “It is.”
He waited for the backlash.
Waited some more.
She patted the seat beside her and he warily scooted around the table, taking up the corner spot in the wraparound booth. “Which ones would you use?”
He’d expected a lot of questions. He hadn’t expected that one. Was she seriously considering giving him her permission? Moving the mugs out of the way, he flipped through the photographs and laid four out on the table in order, the ones showing her transformation from her lowest low to her highest high.
Cora brought her leg up and rested her chin on her knee looking from one to the other to the other. Ian’s heart raced, waiting for her response. Not as terrified as he’d been seeing her unmoving form in a dark alley, but scary just the same. Having someone see his work, see into his heart when they saw what he saw, took getting used to. At the same time, it left him feeling raw and exposed and vulnerable, and strangely proud.
“Wow.” The word came out breathless. Cora swiped at her eye.
Oh, shit. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. “Baby, if it upsets you, I don’t have to use them.”
“But you don’t have anything else you can use for the contest.”
“Fuck the contest. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to you.”
Ian hitched a finger under her chin. “Not as much as you do.”
“You mean that, don’t you?” Her cheeks pinked, and her laugh hitched as she dried her eyes with the heels of her hands.
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”
She sniffed, then flipped back through the stack and added another photo. “I think this should be in there, too.”
He glanced at the additional photo she’d chosen. The one they’d taken together on the beach. The one of her with her lips on his cheek. There was a tenderness there, a sweetness that combined with the other photos said that while you fight for your goals, you can’t forget to live your life. “Yeah?”
She smiled wider as her eyes dried. “Yeah.”
“I like that even better.”
The photos had all been cropped close on her face. Running the gamut from desperation, to hope, to determination, to realization, and finally to triumph. A story anyone who has struggled could identify with.
“I’ve seen these looks on other people. This isn’t just my story, it’s everyone’s story.” Cora had to clear her throat. “Everyone struggles. Everyone has to overcome.”
The statement the photo array made, had his throat constricted and his chest tight, the emotion swelling against the surface. That she got that and supported him, made her acceptance even more special.
“I think the universal message is ‘you are not alone,’” she said.
The weight on Ian’s chest eased. One hurdle down, one more to go. A moth buzzed and batted its wings against the plastic shield around the kitchen light. Outside, all was quiet, deep in the night. “You know if I win, this is getting published. Not only in the United States, but around the world. Are your parents going to approve?”
She reached over and linked her fingers with his. “I don’t know. Probably not. Even though the photos aren’t racy or scandalous. These past weeks I’ve learned some things about myself. The most important one is that I can’t live my life to try to please my parents.”
“I came to that same conclusion the hard way.”
“I’m an adult. I don’t need their permission or approval or blessing. This is me. They can take me or leave me.”
Then she scooted out of the booth and dug his typewriter from beneath the seat of the other booth and set it on the table. He scooted around and took his place in front of it, his grin making his cheeks hurt.
With a hand on the seat back, she leaned in, placing her other hand mid-thigh. His dick stirred as she planted a kiss on his lips, her face serious when she said, “Thank you for finding me tonight.”
His throat closed at the thought of what might have happened to her if he hadn’t found her in time. It would take a whole tub of grease to slick his words up enough to squeak past the stricture, so he nodded in answer.
Then that familiar glint lit her eyes as she went in for a longer, deeper kiss, her hand sliding up his thigh and stroking the erection tenting his sweats. She pulled back. “Work fast. It’s almost morning, and you promised me we’d fuck like bunnies.”
* * *
The next Saturday night after a qualifying run, at the Austin County fairgrounds, Cora dug out the change she and Ian had scraped together in preparation for his call to GlobeTrotter Magazine.
They waited as the minutes ticked by, waiting for the clock to strike midnight, the time the magazine had said the winner would be announced. Four more agonizing minutes. Carefully, she lined up the quarters, dimes, and nickels, biggest to smallest, on top of the metal box around the pay phone.
“Your hands are shaking,” Ian said as he captured them in his and tried to rub the cold away.
A cold front had come through, and for South Texas, the normally mild winter had turned frigid. She curled into him, letting his body block her from the wind. Only problem was, the blowing wind and the freezing temperature weren’t responsible for the shaking.
As the clock on the outer wall of the rodeo office moved one minute closer to midnight, her apprehension ratcheted up. Three short minutes and she’d find out if Ian had won, and if he would have to leave the circuit.
Leave her.
This casual thing with Ian had turned serious, her heart in way too deep. The confliction she felt warred inside her, knotting and twisting her guts until even liquids felt like they’d come right back up. As much as she wanted him to win, she selfishly wanted him to lose.
“You ready?” Ian said as he lifted the receiver and picked up a coin.
She shoved a smile out onto her face, a little too big, a little too bright to be real. “Sure.”
His fingers worked the dial, going through the numbers as she called them out. When he reached the last one, she watched the dial rotate back into place, the tiny tic-tic-tics of the dial sounding loud and electrified. Ian put his arm around her shoulder and held the receiver between them both.
She shook him off. As immature as it may be, she couldn’t bear to hear the news. “This is your moment. I don’t want you to miss a word of it.”
He pressed a kiss to the side of her head, right above her ear. She could hear the inhale of his breath as he breathed her in. Then he whispered in her ear. “Love you.”
What?
Cora opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Then into the phone Ian gave his name and entry number. “I’m calling for the contest results. Are they in yet?”
Love you. Love you. Love you.
Ian’s words echoed in her brain. Had he realized he’d said them? They hadn’t said those words to each other before. To her, saying ‘I love you’ seemed like a commitment to the future, one that was so high up in the air, Neil Armstrong would have to strap a rocket to his ass and orbit t
he earth to see it.
Ian squeezed her shoulder tighter and Cora tuned back in.
“...and you’re positive there’s no mistake?” His voice went higher, and Cora heard the suppressed excitement in his voice as if he were afraid to believe the truth. “When—What?”
Ian made a writing motion with his hand and Cora pulled a Bic pen off the nearby bulletin board and handed it to him. He scribbled something on his hand, reading the numbers back to make sure he’d gotten them correct.
“Um...No, sir,” Ian said, “That won’t be a problem. Thank you, sir.”
Ian hung up the phone and ran his hands through his hair. Cora couldn’t help the smile even though at the same time, the pain she felt deep in her chest had to be her heart breaking. “You won.”
Ian shook his head, disbelieving the news at the same time an infectious grin spread across his face. As much as she didn’t want him to leave, she was also thrilled for him. He’d done it. His chance to make his mark on the world lay at his fingertips.
“I won,” he said, the incredulity clear in the words. “I actually won.”
“I’m so proud of you.” Cora wrapped her arms around his waist.
He held her tight as the moment sunk in, then he threw his head back and laughed, swinging her around. “I won!”
Setting her back down, he cupped her face and planted a smacking kiss on her lips. “Thank you for letting me use those photos, if it hadn’t been for you—”
She placed a finger to his lips, shutting him up. “That was your heart, your vision in those photographs. The world deserves to see your inspirational work.”
Only one thing needed to be settled. Cora feared asking the next question, but not knowing would be worse. She rested her hand on his chest and asked, “So how many weeks do we have left before you have to go?”
Ian’s smile slipped and turned stark. He stepped back and ran his hands down his face. Cora stepped toward him. “Days?”
Slowly, he shook his head and swallowed hard. “Hours,” he managed.
Hours. “No. I—” She motioned between the two of them. “We—” Her voice broke and her throat constricted. She couldn’t have said anything even if her brain could wrap its neurons around what Ian had told her, which they couldn’t. She’d always known this would end, she hadn’t expected it to be now.
“It’s sudden, I know. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but things have heated up in Vietnam and Lark is catching an Army transport plane out of New York first thing Monday morning. If I want to go on assignment with him, I have to catch the first plane to New York I can get.”
This was really happening. Cora didn’t know if it was the cold or the wind or the pain in her chest, but all the oxygen in Texas seemed to have vanished. Sucking in a deep breath didn’t seem to help.
Pull your big cowgirl boots on and deal now, cry later.
“Don’t cry.” He brushed a tear off her cheek.
Damn. Damn. Damn. She could do this. “They’re happy tears,” she lied. “We’d better call the airlines and get you a ticket.”
* * *
“You all packed?” Cora asked as she entered Ian’s trailer after taking care of Panache for the morning.
Ian rubbed at his gritty eyes and waved a hand at the duffel bag and camera equipment piled on and around the kitchen table. “I think I’ve got everything.”
Ian had hardly slept the night before, making sure he had all his bases covered. He’d lined Levi up into taking his truck and camper to a nearby storage facility the next day. At least his flight to New York would get him back home in time to grab a few necessities before he had to meet Lark and catch the overseas flight.
“You sure you don’t need a ride to the airport? I could—”
Ian cupped her shoulders with both hands. “We’ve been through this. I’m fine with taking a cab.” He checked his watch. “In fact, it’s scheduled to pick me up in two hours. I don’t want you missing your run and missing out on a possible check because of me.”
Which wasn’t true at all. He wanted her to take him to the airport and to spend every last second they had left together, but he wasn’t selfish enough to stomp all over her dream to accomplish his.
“Two hours? Your flight isn’t until later tonight.”
“With the rain and the freezing temperatures coming, I didn’t want to be on the road if things got icy.”
She took that in, and he watched her shift through her emotions. The disappointment. The sadness. Then she nodded, more to herself than to him, and he knew from her beautiful, benevolent, breathtaking smile that she’d dug deep to make the most of the time they did have left.
She waggled her brows at him and reached for his belt. “Two hours, huh? There’s a lot we can do in two hours.”
A part of him wanted to spend the two hours talking, but as she undid his jeans and slid them off his hips, he wouldn’t miss the chance to make love to her one last time before he left.
Blood rushed south as she dropped to her knees in front of him taking him in her hand and then her hot, wet mouth. “Jesus Christ,” he ground out, the words guttural and gruff.
He tugged her ponytail holder free and fisted his hands in her hair, holding and guiding her as she went down on him, her tongue tracing along the underside of him up to the ridge, around the head. Light, teasing strokes that had his spine tingling and his balls tightening.
He pulled back, and she glanced up at him. “Something wrong?”
Cora’s hand replaced her mouth and the easy strokes and the way her thumb brushed across the tip of his cock made forming a complete thought almost impossible. He helped her to her feet, kicking off his boots and jeans.
He stroked a hand down her cheek, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. “If this is our last time, I want to be inside you when I come.”
Leaning in, she kissed his neck, his jaw, the spot below his ear and whispered, “Have your people call my people and we can see what we can arr—”
Her squeal of laughter cut through the air as Ian grabbed her up and tossed her onto his bed. He shucked the rest of his clothes and got rid of hers. Reaching for a condom he slipped it on and climbed into the bed.
His arms shook as he held his weight on them and he reached down between her legs. Hot. Wet. Ready.
“I really wanted to take this slow, but—”
“Shut up and fuck me already,” Cora said.
He grinned down at her. He loved the way she didn’t fear saying what she wanted. Loved her take it or leave it attitude.
Except with the way she’d wormed her way into his heart, he had no option but to take it. Take her. Again and again, as long as she allowed.
He filled her in one long, balls deep stroke.
“Mhmm,” Cora purred as she grabbed his ass and sank him farther. “I’m going to miss this.”
As much as it killed Ian to think about her with other men, the reality was they might never see each other again. She had her life to live and that didn’t include waiting around for when, or if, he’d come back stateside.
If this assignment went well it could be a long time before he returned, so he kept his tone teasing and light when he said, “I’m sure you can find someone else more than willing to help you keep winning checks.”
She stilled beneath him. Her smile disappeared, and a line formed between her brows. “That’s not what this is.” To emphasize this, she ground her pelvis against his. He bit back the groan. “It hasn’t been about that for a very long time. I’m with you because I want to be. Not because I have to be. You know that, right?”
He nodded once. In his heart he’d known that. His head had taken a little longer to catch up.
Cupping his cheek, she raised up against him, long, luxurious strokes, that made her eyes dilate and breath catch. “I...I—”
He cut her off with a kiss, wishing the L word sat on her tongue, knowing it would gut him to hear yet again that she didn’t want a relationship. He broke the kiss
. “I know. You don’t have to say it.”
“I just—”
“Babe. Don’t over think this.”
The line between her brows eased and a smile teased and toyed with her lips. “What are you trying to say?”
“What you so eloquently said to me before...Shut up and fuck me already.”
Cora laughed that boisterous laugh he’d come to love so well. “Gladly.”
He rose up on his knees, her ankles locking behind his thighs as he drove into her over and over again. She met each stroke as he ran a hand down her abdomen, the muscles fluttering beneath his touch.
Palming a breast, he brushed his thumb across the peaked nipple. His breath came quick and sweat slicked his skin as their bodies slapped against each other. The rhythm rapid, rushed.
Bracing his weight on his hands on the bed beside her, he ducked his head and took her nipples into his mouth one after the other, her skin slightly salty. The moan he elicited from her had him pumping harder.
“I’m close,” she huffed out, her cries of pleasure driving him on.
“Touch yourself.” He leaned back on his haunches, taking hold of her hips and watching her as she slid a hand down her body, her fingers dipping into her folds and circling her clit.
Once. Twice.
Quite the sight to see as his dick pounded into her.
Then her head fell back as her body stiffened and her muscles clamped down around him, milking him and sending him over the cliff. He caught his weight on his arms, and slowed the pace, drawing every last tingle, every last sensation out.
“Mmmm...That feels so good,” Cora moaned as she caressed his ass.
“Never better.”
Still half-hard, he didn’t want to stop, but he pulled out and took care of the condom and grabbed another, just in case. They rolled onto their sides, and he pulled her back against his chest, their bodies fitting together, her ass to his cock.
He pressed kisses against her shoulder while his hand roamed over her body, not to excite, but to feel, and to memorize her softness, her warmth.