by Donna Alward
“I can’t tell if you’re about to bolt, or eat me alive.” She placed her hands on his chest, spreading her fingers against the chambray of his shirt. “Have you decided which?”
“I don’t run.” He studied the top of her blonde head as she started in on the buttons of his shirt. With each one she released, she pressed a kiss to his exposed skin. He fisted his hands as excitement coursed through him.
She pulled his shirt free of his jeans and he gripped her bare arms. She was so small, delicate really. What arced between them was anything but. Every touch of skin-on-skin turned up the volume of his electric need for her. He was known for his steadiness, control. The moment he’d stepped into her apartment, it seemed he’d given all that away in exchange for the chemistry sizzling in the air between them.
The soft strands of her hair on his chest almost tickled, and then the warm, wet suction of her mouth closed around his flat nipple. His muscles tensed and he whispered her name.
“Yes?” She looked up him with those wide blue eyes, the back of her hand trailing down his muscles until she reached the buckle of his belt.
“I want to lay you down.” He tilted his head toward the bed looming in the distance. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear his cock jumped, trying to reach for a touch.
“Already?” She palmed him through the denim and he thrust into her hand. “I had something else in mind first.”
“I can tell, but I’m losing it.” He cleared his throat and reached down to still her hand. At this rate, he’d wind up lifting her onto one of the nearby tables and taking her with her dress on. As hot as that would be, he wanted her naked. Now.
“Isn’t that the point?” She squeezed his cock until he groaned.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He shrugged out of his shirt.
“Oh, I don’t break.” She released her hold and undid his belt.
He framed her face with his hands and leaned down to kiss her softly. Even with her high heels, he had to crouch. But it was worth it for the feminine, intoxicating scent of her. He teased apart her lips, and she moaned as he tasted her, stroking, teasing, learning how good they could be.
She reached one hand around to his back, pulling them closer while the other pushed into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her fingernails scratched against his scalp and the passion he’d had on lockdown broke free. He had to have her, all of her. Now.
He softened the kiss, only breaking it so he could swing her into his arms. She gave a yelp and wrapped her arms around his neck. And then drew circles with her tongue right behind his ear. He didn’t even know that was his thing until his knees threatened to buckle before they even made it to the bed.
He wanted inside her. He wanted that tongue on him. He wanted to taste her everywhere. All at once. Images and thoughts clashed in his brain, begging him to make every one come true. Immediately. He released her to slide down his body and pulled in a deep breath. But instead of calming him, letting her go made him want more. Faster. Now.
“Do you do it with your boots on?” She whispered beneath his ear before kissing the column of his neck.
He threaded his hand into her hair, gripping slightly as he pulled her head back so she would look at him. “Take your dress off or I’m going to ruin it.”
“I’m betting it would be worth it.” She stepped back and reached behind, undoing the zipper.
His chest heaved with each breath, his heart pounding like he’d just raced across the pasture. She shimmied and the black lace fell to the floor. Nothing, she wore nothing beneath her dress. All night he’d been talking to her and the only thing between them was his denim and her lace. Like a wet dream come true, she stepped out of the piled material and kicked her dress aside, placing one hand on her bare hip as she looked him up and down.
“Do you need help with your pants?”
He turned his belt loose before she came any closer. If she got down on her knees, he knew what would happen. And while it would be glorious, there was still so much of her to explore. All that skin, and those high, pert breasts, the thin blonde strip of hair leading to the promised land, and that tight ass. He sat on her bed and pulled off his boots faster than a bull out of the shoot.
And then he realized he’d turned the tables. With him sitting, he could reach out and touch what he’d been fantasizing about. He ditched his jeans, then spread his legs and grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her to him. She swayed on her heels at the sudden movement, her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. He took her nipple in his mouth, toying with the tip, pressing it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth until she dug her fingers into his skin.
“Touch me,” she whispered, then covered his large hand with her tiny one, and placed it between her legs. He pressed the heel of his hand against her mound and she rocked against it. He released her nipple and blew on it; she squeezed her thighs together, holding his hand right there.
He took her other nipple in his mouth, flicking and sucking as he slid his fingers along the slick seam of her hot, wet pussy. He pressed a finger into her and brushed his thumb over her clit. She moaned and widened her stance, giving him more room to play. And he did, teasing and readying, adding another finger and gliding them in and out, in and out until her legs started to quiver.
Her fingernails bit into his skin as her breath caught, her toned belly tightening against his chest. She hummed and her pussy spasmed around his fingers. Her legs gave out and she leaned into him. He caught her and turned, tossing her up the bed. She stretched her arms over her head, twisting one leg over the other in an erotic image he would never forget.
The sooner he got the condom, the sooner he could forget about everything but being inside her. He reached for his jeans, pulled out his wallet, and grabbed the condom he kept there, just in case. She pushed up onto her elbows.
“Cowboy, I don’t want to break the mood, but how long have you been packing that?”
He fingered the packet and for the life of him, couldn’t recall. He couldn’t think much at all.
“I thought so.” She tilted her head toward the nightstand. “I got a brand new box. A multi-pack even, so we can experiment with what works best.”
He dropped his and reached for the box, tearing the cardboard open in his haste. He grabbed the first one and turned to her. Her laughter broke through his lust haze.
She crooked her finger at him. “Give me the box and lie down.”
He wanted to argue, but she took what was left of the box and set the mangled mess on the nightstand. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He must seem like some feral beast that had lost all control. And while he had, he didn’t care for it to show. His hard cock pressed against his belly as he made his way up the bed.
“I’m all for hard and fast, babe. But fumbling will get you nowhere.” She straddled his legs, then tore open the package. She fisted his cock, then placed the condom on the tip of him and rolled in down his shaft. Desire flared in her pretty eyes as she met his gaze and licked her lips.
He wanted that mouth pressed against his own, that tongue teasing down his body, those lips wrapped around his dick. He’d have all of that. But first, he’d have her. Blood roared in his ears as he reached for her, fisted his hand in her hair, and brought her close for a bone-melting kiss. His tongue tangled with hers as he opened her, explored until she gasped for breath. He reached between them, covering her fingers with his own, still wrapped around his cock. She lowered her hips until she hovered just above him, and then slowly took him inside her hot, wet body.
She moaned against his mouth as she settled herself and he palmed her breasts, holding her up as he played her hard nipples between his fingers. She writhed against him, her thighs gripping his as she found her pleasure. She grasped his shoulders and pushed up, her blue eyes wild as she rode him, her blonde hair falling against her pretty face.
The show was glorious, but he needed more. He bent his knees and grabbed her hips, lifting her so he could drive
into her with deep, frenzied thrusts until her thighs began to quiver and she cried out his name. Her hot sex gripped him, pulsing with her pleasure as the rest of her body relaxed down on his.
He gripped her ass, holding her close as he sat up, then rose to his knees and settled her back against the mattress. He stared down at her, another image almost too sexy to believe.
“There’s more?” She grinned and trailed her fingertips up his arm.
“There’s me.” He nudged deeper within her slick heat, then pulled back and thrust. The glorious friction of her tight body sent unadulterated lust rushing through him.
This. He needed this. Each thrust brought him closer and the way she tilted her hips each time he plunged deep urged him on. The heady aroma of sex mixed with her soft rose scent, the sounds of their bodies joining and the way she hummed each time he pushed deep echoed off the walls.
Her breath hitched and she pulled her legs up, wrapping them around his back. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and curled her body into his, holding on in a way that touched his soul.
Don’t, his mind warned. It’s sex, nothing more. Chemistry, not emotion. He drove deeper, harder, as if by pushing into her he could push the thoughts away. Her whole body tightened around him, her legs squeezing him, her fingernails digging into his back and her mouth hard against his shoulder, first her lips and then teeth. But it was the way her pussy clenched, drawing him in, holding, and releasing that finally sent him over, his thoughts splintering like shard of broken glass. He slumped against the mattress, barely holding his weight off her as he gasped for breath.
Jules threaded her fingers through his hair, drawing slow circles until he wanted to fall asleep just like this, still inside her. She nipped his ear and he raised his head.
“Good ride, cowboy.” She gave him a naughty wink.
He didn’t bother to hide the laugh or the grin as he sat up. He checked the condom, because as hard as he came, he might have blown the thing clear off. But it was intact, even if he wasn’t.
“We should do this again sometime.” She crossed her legs at the ankles and stretched out, her breasts and chest still flushed.
“Again and again and again.” He ran his hand over her hip and up her body to cup her breast.
“Think you can handle it?” She rolled to her side and propped up on an elbow. With her hair a mess and her lips swollen from his kisses, she made another erotic picture that would live in his mind forever.
“I can if you can.” He leaned down, slanting his mouth against hers for another heated kiss.
She sighed, her lips parting, opening so he could explore. He wanted more of this, more of her. It felt too right to leave, even though he knew having an affair with her was all wrong for him. She was everything he wasn’t looking for—intoxicating, feminine, seductive. But he wanted her, even if it was only for a little while.
…
“Slade,” Jules whispered as she shook him awake. Weren’t cowboys supposed to rise before dawn? She glanced at the darkness outside her windows and shrugged. Apparently, bakers were a step ahead of ranchers.
He opened one eye. “Why are your clothes on?”
“Because I have to make Seven Layers to Heaven, Better than Sex, and Cream Pie Cake.”
“Does that just sound dirty because I want you naked?” He sat, the sheet settling across his lap and reminding her why she’d put clothes on before getting him up. He was too tempting all bare like this.
She shook her head and grinned. Thank God, they hadn’t burned off all the lust with their all-night sex fest. “I mean for it to sound dirty. I like hearing people order it.”
“So if I come in and order Better than Sex, can I get it to go?” He reached out and tugged her ponytail. “You look beyond innocent with your hair back and no makeup.”
“You know better.” She stood and brushed her hands against the worn white pants she’d never wear outside of Ben’s kitchen.
“I know sex with you is better than any cake in the history of time.”
“Careful, talk like that will get you laid again.” He shifted to get up so she stepped back and held up her hand. “Not now. I have to cake, you have to go do something ranch-like.”
“So you bake and sew. You sure you’re not secretly a country girl?” He pushed a hand through his hair and looked absolutely fuckable. If Ben wasn’t such a freak about sharing kitchen space, she’d definitely dive back into bed for another round.
“Ben and I fight, so we keep our distance. I do the baking before he starts prep. I work the front of the house while he runs the kitchen. It’s how I earn my keep while staying sane. Designing is what I want to do.”
“Why do you fight with your uncle?”
“Because he’s a tyrant.” And she’d been an indignant teenager when he’d had to take them in. Podunk, Oregon, had felt like the seventh circle of hell back then. Now it was more like a prison and she had six weeks until she was paroled.
“I’ve always thought Ben was a great guy.”
Jules raised a brow, no longer interested in talking family dynamics. “I have to start the ovens. The door locks automatically when it closes.”
“Do you want me to fix that?”
She shook her head. “It was a condition of moving upstairs when I was sixteen. He was more comfortable knowing I was locked in, I think.”
“You moved out at sixteen?” His warm brown eyes grew sad, but his pity was the last thing she wanted.
“Like I said, we don’t get along. Plus it gave me room for my designing.”
“But—”
“I’ve got to get down to the kitchen. Thanks for last night. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Jules, wait.”
She ignored him and grabbed her phone from the table. She almost escaped before the heat of his body warmed her back. “I need to go,” she said to the door.
He leaned down, his overnight stubble scratching her ear. “I need to see you again.”
“You know where to find me.” She gripped the handle and opened the door, stepping out and away from temptation. She glanced over her shoulder at him standing naked in her doorway and grinned. “If any woman in town sees you standing there like that, you’ll be married by the weekend.”
“Any woman but you.”
She gave a shrug and hurried down the stairs, away from Slade Weston and the thoughts of marriage and kids and all the things she didn’t need in her life.
Chapter Three
“Sorry your date didn’t go well.”
Slade froze at the entrance of his mother’s kitchen. He’d expected it to be empty since she was away this weekend planning the annual quilting convention one county south. Instead, he found Carly Case, his sister’s best friend and Ace’s former flame. Or current. He never really knew where they stood.
“What are you doing here this early?” He stepped into the white room, so different from the galley kitchen he’d grown up with. For their twentieth anniversary, his dad had added this modern kitchen onto the farmhouse. Women oohed and ahed over it, but he didn’t see the point of the multiple ovens and giant appliances. They had all that at the lodge.
“Getting breakfast for the hands. Your mom was hoping you’d still be enjoying your date.” She turned and pulled two trays of biscuits from the oven, then set them on the marble countertop.
“She’s ever the optimist. I’m done with dating for a while. The ranch is too busy in the summer to bother with it.” He poured himself a cup of coffee, then drained the rest of the brew into a waiting thermos. Her Whiskey Made Me Do It tank top begged for him to make a joke, but he hadn’t slept much last night and the cold shower he’d taken this morning hadn’t helped engage his brain.
“Maybe you should stop with that dating site and look for someone in town. I know a few—”
“No.” He started a fresh pot instead of looking at Carly. He had no intention of being with anyone Amanda had known. It felt like cheating. Being with anyone felt l
ike cheating, which was why he had to get drunk first. Except he hadn’t even had a buzz last night with Jules. The coffee churned in his stomach.
“She wouldn’t want you to go on like this forever.”
That spun him around. “We’re not doing this.” Amanda would have wanted to be here, with her kids who needed her and her husband who loved her.
“Okay.” She set two sheet pans of eggs on the counter. “Have you made an appointment for April yet?”
“My kid, my business.” His gut clenched. Good lord, it was like she’d come here specifically to kick him when he was down.
“I’ll make the time to take her if you won’t.” She flitted about her assembly line as if she hadn’t just declared war. Biscuit, eggs, tomato, Canadian bacon, cheese, all wrapped in a square of foil.
“Know what, Carly? You’re one sentence away from getting thrown out of my house.”
“This is your mother’s house. You live next door.” She made the breakfast sandwiches with practiced ease, filling a big rectangular basket in no time at all.
“How many women hang out with their ex’s mother? You moved on from Ace, you might as well keep walking past the rest of the Weston family.” He knew he’d gone too far from the way her shoulders tensed, but she kept working.
“Why don’t you deliver breakfast then? I’m sure I have better things to do.”
“I planned on it.” He fought the urge to apologize, because if he did she’d start talking again about things he did not want to discuss.
“Lunch is lasagna and salad. It’s in the fridge up at the lodge. Someone needs to put the trays in the oven an hour before.”
“Got it.” He needed to pick up the kids from his in-laws after delivering breakfast, so he wouldn’t be much help besides getting lunch together.