Big-Hearted Cowboy

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  His control was slipping, but what a way to go.

  Hers was, too. Her fingertips pressed into his scalp and she began to pant. “Jake.”

  Okay, then. Releasing her breast, he eased up until they were face-to-face. His heart thundered and his ears buzzed. Soon. “You called?”

  “I did.” She found a new place to press with her strong fingers. Getting a firm hold on his glutes, she squeezed. “Now, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He moved into position. Paradise, it turned out, was easy to find and even easier to enter. She threw open the gates and he plunged right in.

  Gasping, he bowed his head and stayed still while he struggled to master his response.

  “Didja like that?”

  He glanced up. “Uh-huh. You?”

  She swallowed. “Very much.” Her core muscles contracted.

  He gasped again. “Oh, boy.”

  “Yeah. I’m…”

  “Then here we go. Hang on, Millie.” He began to stroke. Within seconds she climaxed and took him with her into the heart of the fire. Her cries blended with his deep groan as he buried his cock deep in her quivering channel.

  His vision blurred. His pulse was whacked, racing at a speed that robbed him of breath. His world tilted, then gradually righted itself as the aftershocks tailed off.

  Filling his chest with much needed air, he checked to see how she was doing. That dazed look in her green eyes probably mirrored his own. He stroked her flushed cheek. “We did it.”

  “Boy, howdy.” Her voice was gravelly. She cleared her throat. “Is the top of my head still there?”

  “Let’s see.” He laid his hand over her glossy copper hair. “Yes, ma’am. A little damp, but intact.”

  “All of me is damp. And you have little drops of sweat in your eyebrows.”

  He smoothed a finger over the right one. “So I do. I’d say something happened here.”

  “You’re darn right. Millie and Jake finally got it on.”

  “Alert the media.”

  “Gonna post a big announcement online?”

  He grinned. “Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “You might as well. Everybody on this ranch knows what’s happening here. No doubt the Babes do, too. With that many folks having inside info, we’ll probably be a hot topic around the potbellied stove at the Apple Barrel.”

  “Do you care?”

  “Not me. I wrangled Jake Lassiter into my bed. I’ll be the envy of every bachelorette in town.”

  “And I’ll be the envy of every unattached cowboy. But tonight, it’s just you and me, kid.” He feathered a kiss over her lips. “Tucked away in this cottage, shutting out the world.”

  A chime sounded from the floor.

  “But not the texts.” Millie glanced toward his jeans lying in a crumpled heap. “That’s yours. Mine’s in the kitchen.”

  “I’m ignoring it.”

  “What if the Brotherhood is having a cooking emergency?”

  “Unlikely. I left them a huge pot of chili and baked them some cornbread.”

  “What if something’s wrong in the barn?”

  He gazed at her. “We’re chock-a-block with wranglers on the Buckskin. They don’t need me.”

  “But aren’t you second in command after Matt? And he’s—”

  “Okay, okay.” He eased away from her and left the bed. “I’ll look at the text when I get back from the bathroom, but only because it came in after we’d had a most excellent time in your bed. Whoever it is caught me during a break.”

  Her laughter followed him down the hall. “Are we on a break?”

  “Temporarily!” he called back. “Think of that as an appetizer.”

  “For the meal?”

  “For the smorgasbord of lovemaking I have planned.” Smorgasbord. She inspired him to come up with stuff like that. He was his best self when he was with Millie.

  When he returned to the bedroom, she was gone and so was the lounge outfit and her slippers. “Millie?”

  “In the living room,” she called out. “Tending the fire. It almost died.”

  “By all means, let’s keep the fires burning.” He scooped up his briefs and jeans, still warm from his body heat. Not surprising. And when she’d wrapped her fingers around his….

  He sucked in a breath. Better ditch that subject before he coaxed her back in here. He’d promised her dinner. He would deliver on that promise.

  Cooking naked wasn’t his thing, though. Grease spatters. After taking out his phone and laying it on the nightstand, he tugged on his underwear and his Wranglers. Might as well put on his shirt, too. He left the shirttails out, though. His version of loungewear.

  At the last minute, he stuffed a condom in his jeans pocket. Just in case.

  Grabbing the phone, he walked barefoot into the living room. The fire was crackling but she wasn’t there. “Millie?”

  “In the kitchen. Putting away what needs to be refrigerated.”

  Excellent point. He’d abandoned the groceries in favor of having hot sex with Millie. Good choice for him. Not so good for perishables.

  He walked into the kitchen as she was bending over to put lettuce in the crisper at the bottom of the fridge. His fingers curled. She had a very inviting tush. His body reacted right on cue.

  Straightening, she closed the door and turned. “Oh! I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “No boots. Makes me stealthy.”

  She glanced at his bare feet. “There’s something very arousing about seeing you in bare feet. Like you’re ready for anything.”

  “I am.”

  Her gaze dropped to his fly and lifted to his face. Her eyes sparkled. “Is the break over?”

  “Not unless you want it to be.”

  She smiled. “As I recall, you don’t believe in missing meals.”

  “The steak and asparagus won’t take long.”

  “And I’ve kept the fire going so we can eat in front of it.”

  “Right.” He crossed to the counter where he’d left the steak marinating. “Let’s get these under the broiler, and then—”

  “Did you read your text?”

  “I did not. Got distracted.” He tapped his phone, checked the message and laughed.

  “What?”

  “Listen to this. It’s from CJ. Garrett likes to cook and he thinks the chili needs more chili pepper. He was polite about it, though. I informed him you made the chili and nobody was adding anything until I checked with you.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet. Told you the Brotherhood would miss your presence in the kitchen.”

  “Wait, there’s more. Hope you don’t read this until three in the morning when you and Millie are limp as dish rags and buggy-eyed from hours of amazing sex.”

  She gave him an uneasy smile. “Three in the morning?”

  “He’s exaggerating.” He stepped closer and slipped an arm around her waist. “We’ll be fast asleep by two.”

  “I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

  “I’m kidding.”

  She rested her palms on his chest. “It never occurred to me I might have trouble keeping up with you.”

  “This isn’t an athletic event. I don’t expect you to—”

  “But you’re in terrific shape. For all I know you could go until three in the morning. All night, maybe.”

  He smiled. “I might want to, because it feels so good, but that would be crazy. We work hard during the day. What sort of selfish jerk would wear you out so you dragged through the next day? Why would I want that for myself?”

  “Then the smorgasbord you mentioned won’t last for hours?”

  “No.”

  She let out a sigh. “That’s a relief. I think I know you so well, and yet I have no idea what you expect from a sexual relationship.”

  “I have no expectations.”

  “Really?”

  “How could I? This is all new territory.”

  “But you’ve spent the night with women in the past.”
>
  “Not under these conditions. My underwear’s in your dresser drawer. My shaving kit’s in your bathroom. I came over loaded with groceries. And condoms. Probably way more than we’ll need but I didn’t know how many would be enough. I’ve never been in this situation before.”

  She met his gaze. “Neither have I.”

  “You haven’t? I thought for sure you—”

  “Just for a weekend. I’ve never spent a whole week with a guy, let alone moved in with someone long-term. Making room for your clothes felt… unsettling. Exciting, but still an adjustment.”

  “Huh. That shines a new light on things.” He surveyed the counters, which had been neat when he arrived. Not so much, now. “I don’t usually make a mess in the kitchen.”

  “It’s not a mess. Only disorganized. And so what?” Her eyes twinkled. “We’ve been busy.”

  “Yep, and if I don’t let go of you, we’re liable to get busy again.” He released her and backed away.

  “Are you going to text CJ?”

  “Thanks for reminding me.” He typed a quick reply and tucked his phone away.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “To let Garrett add more chili pepper.” He took the broiling pan out of the oven.

  “Really? But you’ve been making it for years and the guys love your cooking.”

  “I know, but I had other things on my mind today. I could have gone a little lean on the chili pepper.” He transferred the steaks to the pan and slid it under the broiler. “The guy honors his taste buds. That’s gutsy in a new situation. If he wants to do some of the cooking, fine with me.”

  “Just not Friday night with chuck-wagon stew.”

  “Why not? Unlike Ezra, he’ll follow my recipe. The Brotherhood will insist on it. And I won’t be there this Friday night.” He hesitated. “Unless you’ve kicked me out by then.” His gut tightened.

  She moved into his space, then into his arms. “Why would I kick you out? You just gave me the most amazing climax of my life.”

  He gathered her close. “Yeah? You’re not making that up?”

  “Listen to me, Jake.” She cupped his face in both hands. “During this week we’re together, I might be short-tempered at times. I might get distracted and not respond the way you’d like. But I will never, ever lie to you.”

  He gazed into her eyes. “The most amazing climax of your life?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Totally worth the wait.”

  He kissed her. Couldn’t help it. Not a kiss of seduction that would end in the bedroom. A kiss of gratitude.

  He drew back from it eventually because he had something to say. “I’m a kidder. We both know that. But I won’t lie to you. Not ever.” He gazed into her smiling eyes. “Count on it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Champagne, candlelight, a juicy steak dinner cooked by a handsome cowboy, a fire on the hearth and hot glances from the cook. What more could a girl want? Well, apple pie for dessert would be nice, and it was currently warming in the oven.

  “Delicious meal, Jake.” Millie lifted her champagne glass and saluted him. “Here’s to your talents in the kitchen.” Champagne loosened her tongue. “Matched only by your talents in the bedroom.”

  “Keep up that kind of talk and we’ll have to skip the apple pie.”

  “I’m not skipping it. It smells heavenly.”

  “Then I’ll bring it in.” He stood and picked up the plates. “How about sitting on the couch for dessert?”

  “Good idea. I’ll add a couple more logs.” Tending the fire was the only chore she’d had since he’d arrived. He’d insisted on fixing all the food and serving it, too. He’d even mentioned handling cleanup.

  That was fine this first night when he clearly wanted to pamper her, but they needed to discuss a division of labor. Not a romantic topic, though, and romance was on the dinner menu, too. She’d let it go for now.

  Once the fire was crackling again, she replaced the screen. “Need any help in there?”

  “No, ma’am.” He walked in with a bowl in each hand. “I decided on bowls and spoons. Seemed safer with dripping ice cream.”

  “Smart.” She took a seat, choosing a spot near the middle of the roomy couch.

  He handed her a bowl. “I don’t think I’ve ever sat here.” He settled down next to her, his hip and thigh nestled against hers.

  “You must have. Think of all those times you and the guys have come over.”

  “We were mostly in the kitchen.”

  “But sometimes out here. Like when we roasted marshmallows that time.”

  “Seemed like the couch was for you and Kate. I might’ve taken that rocker over there, but I think I usually brought a chair from the kitchen.”

  “That rings a bell. Then you’d turn it around and straddle it.” She scooped up a spoonful of warm pie and rapidly melting ice cream. “Why do guys do that?”

  He paused, a dripping spoonful halfway to his mouth. “It looks manly. And gives us a chance to air out our boys.”

  “And show them off?”

  He laughed. “Could be.” He took another spoonful.

  “That’s my theory.” As she continued to eat, she checked his position on the couch. “Even when they’re not straddling a chair, guys feel the need to spread out.”

  Lifting his bowl away, he glanced down. “Sure enough.” He flashed her a grin. “And you’ve noticed, so it must be an effective strategy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not really. I like a subtle approach.”

  “Good to know. I’ll keep it in mind.” He spooned up more pie and ice cream. “I love this combo.”

  “It’s delicious.” She took another bite. “Thanks for bringing it.”

  “My pleasure.” He pointed his spoon at the bowl. “I like to heat up the pie until the filling is oozing out of the crust, then add ice cream that’s hard as a rock.”

  She smiled. “Is this you being subtle?”

  “Heck, no. I’m telling you how to create the perfect pie a la mode. Use soft ice cream and you’re done before you even get started.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But now we get to this stage, where the crunchy parts are gone, leaving a creamy blend of juices that beg to be lapped up.” Holding her gaze, he dipped the spoon into the bowl. “That’s when I slow down, make every mouthful count.”

  Moisture gathered between her thighs. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Is it working?” Keeping the bowl under the dripping spoonful, he turned and offered it to her.

  “Maybe.” She let him feed her. The gentle slide of the spoon into her mouth was erotic as hell.

  He drew it slowly back out and waited for her to swallow. Then he leaned over and kissed her with light easy pressure, a kiss that tasted of apple pie, ice cream and desire.

  He nibbled on her lips, eased away, came back and teased her with more soft kisses. “It’s working,” he murmured as he took her bowl and set it, along with his, on the coffee table. “I’ll stoke up the fire.”

  “You just did.

  He laughed. “The other one.” He stood and walked over to the hearth.

  Evidently they were staying here. He had mentioned a smorgasbord, after all. “Anything I can do?”

  “Don’t think so.” He set two more logs on the fire, surveyed the results and replaced the fire screen. Turning around, he sucked in a breath. “Except that.”

  “I thought you might like the idea.” She folded her top and put it on the coffee table where she’d laid her folded pants. Stretching out on the couch, she propped a throw pillow behind her head.

  “I love the idea.” He unbuttoned his shirt as he walked toward her. “Firelight looks great on you.”

  Her body tightened in anticipation. “Can’t wait to see you wearing it.”

  Stripping off his shirt, he laid it on the arm of the couch. Then he reached in his pocket.

  “You had this in mind all along.”

  “Not all along.” Leaning down, he l
aid the condom packet on the coffee table. “I’m a spontaneous kind of guy.”

  “Who tucks a condom in his pocket?”

  He smiled. “Doesn’t take up much room. Might come in handy. Scoot over a bit.”

  She made room for him and the denim material of his Wranglers pressed against her hip. “Aren’t you missing a step, cowboy?”

  “No, ma’am.” He picked up a bowl of the now soupy dessert. “Thought you could help me finish this before I take off my jeans.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Totally serious.” He scooped up a spoonful of melted ice cream… and dribbled it over her breasts.

  “Jake!”

  “Whoops. Don’t move or it’ll run all over.” He continued the process down the valley between her ribs and across her stomach.

  “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “I’ll take care of it. Just lie quietly and relax.” Putting down the bowl, he lowered his head. With easy swipes of his warm tongue, he lapped at the creamy mixture. He took his time, pausing to suck gently on each nipple before moving on.

  His lazy caresses heated her skin, stole her breath, tightened her core. Her thighs trembled. “FYI, this is not relaxing.”

  “No?” His breath tickled her moist skin as he continued his unhurried path down her body. “I’m shocked.”

  “You’re not, either. You pinned me down with runny ice cream so I can’t move while you—”

  “Have my way with you?” He licked a path over her stomach. “Is it getting you hot?”

  “Yes.” Urgent need gripped her. “And you’d better be planning to—”

  “I am.” He dipped his tongue into her navel. “Done.”

  She started to sit up.

  “Wait a sec.” He slid one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees. “One more thing.”

  “A change of venue?”

  “Not yet.” Instead of picking her up, he repositioned her so she was sitting on the couch with her feet on the floor. “I haven’t finished my dessert.”

  “Stay away from that bowl, cowboy. I’ve had enough of—”