Tempting the Texan

by Maureen Child

  All of the years between their last night together and this moment disappeared in a blink. Kellan’s hands came down onto her breasts, and even through the fabric of her shirt and the bra beneath, she felt the burn of his touch. He tugged at the buttons, as impatient to touch her as she was to be touched.

  A near-electric buzz erupted between them and Irina welcomed that oh-so-familiar feeling. It was as if they’d never been apart.

  “Off,” he said thickly. “Take that shirt off before I rip it off.”

  Another shiver because she knew he meant it and it thrilled her that he wanted her so much. She undid the buttons, pulled the red shirt off and tossed it aside. His first glance at her lacy black bra fired his eyes and dragged a guttural moan from his throat. “Man, it’d almost be worth it for you to keep that on—if I didn’t want your nipples in my mouth.”

  “Since I want that, too...” She unhooked the bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes went hot and fixed. Irina nearly groaned when he tore his own shirt off to expose his muscled, tanned chest. All she wanted now was to slide her palms across all that lovely flesh.

  He must have been thinking the same thing, because the next couple of minutes passed in a breath of time and then they were naked, wrapped in each other’s arms, tumbling onto his bed and rolling across the navy blue duvet.

  The room was still and quiet. Outside, the sky was gray and a winter wind gusted, rattling the windowpanes.

  “You’re still so damn beautiful,” he whispered, lowering his head to take one of her hardened nipples into his mouth.

  “And you’re still very talented,” she whispered, arching her back, pushing herself into his mouth. His lips and tongue and teeth drew on her sensitive skin and sent her into a tightening spiral of escalating need. The duvet beneath her was cool but did nothing to dim the heat enveloping her. Irina scraped her nails along his spine and Kellan growled low against her chest. “You feel so damn good,” he murmured as he shifted his attention to her other breast.

  “Oh, so do you. And what you’re doing... Don’t stop.”

  “Not a chance,” he vowed, voice low and guttural.

  He swept one hand down her body, following the curve of her waist, the dip of her belly, to the center of her. Heat from his touch soaked through her skin, past her blood, down to her bones, and Irina felt as if she were burning up from the inside. More, she thought. She wanted more.

  Then he slid two fingers into her depths, pressing, stroking. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she gasped for air. Irina planted her feet on the mattress, lifting her hips into his hand. It had been so long since she’d felt anything like this, her body was tight and ready to explode.

  He suckled her and teased her core with steady strokes and caresses, and Irina knew she couldn’t hold out much longer. She wanted him inside her when she climaxed, but she couldn’t wait. Couldn’t stop what was happening and wasn’t entirely sure she would have if she could.

  When that lovely, elusive feeling began to build at lightning speed, she braced herself for what was to come. Then her body came apart in his hands and all she could do was hold on. Blindly, she stared up at the beamed ceiling and shrieked when he pushed her over the edge into an orgasm that seemed to roll on and on.

  Struggling for breath, body still trembling, Irina barely felt the surprise when Kellan shifted suddenly. He rolled over onto his back and pulled her with him until she was on top, staring down at him through passion-glazed eyes.

  She smiled down at him, licked her lips and stroked her palms across his chest, her thumbs flicking at his flat nipples. He was gorgeous. The man’s body was a work of art, all sculpted muscle and hard strength. Touching him filled her with the kind of desire she’d felt with no one else.

  “Just a minute.” He hissed in a breath and reached for the bedside table drawer. He yanked it open and fumbled for a condom, ripped at the packaging, then sheathed himself in only a few seconds.

  “You should have let me put that on,” she whispered.

  He snorted. “If you had, it never would have gotten on in time. I’m teetering on a narrow ledge here, Irina. Won’t take much to push me over.”

  “You say the nicest things.” Irina gave him a small smile, then lifted both arms high over her head, lifting her hair and letting it slide down over her like a reddish-golden cape.

  “And you’re doing that on purpose.” He reached out and cupped her breasts in his hands.

  “You’re a very smart man.”

  “Not at the moment,” he said. “Blood supply’s not going anywhere near my brain.”

  “I noticed.” And her insides trembled as she stroked his chest again. She couldn’t get enough of touching him, feeling all that coiled strength and banked heat beneath her hands.

  She wanted him inside her. Deep. Hard. Fast. “How much more talking are we going to do?”

  “I think we’re done.” He set his hands on her hips and lifted her up high enough that she felt the tip of him brushing at her core. Irina took a deep breath. Her gaze locked with his as she slowly, deliberately slid down his length, drawing him deep inside her.

  With every inch of him she claimed, she felt that bone-deep stirring of need rise again. Along with a sense of “rightness” she hadn’t felt in far too long. Watching his eyes, seeing the flames dancing there, fed the fire burning within her. When Irina rocked on him, he groaned her name and clenched his hands on her thighs. She felt the hard imprint of his fingertips digging into her skin, and she loved it.

  Loved that he was so wild for her. Loved that he needed her. Loved that when they came together, nothing else mattered.

  Irina threw her head back, braced her hands on his flat belly and rode him frantically. Every stroke pumped up the desire arcing between them. Every movement tantalized. Promised. Her hips set the rhythm that he followed. She listened to his breathing, fast, desperate. And she knew what he was feeling.

  Irina took him deeper still, grinding her hips against his, creating a friction that drove them both faster, higher. How could she feel so much, so quickly after a shattering orgasm? How could she be so needy, so filled with the kind of desire that only Kellan could engender?

  She looked down at him and etched his image onto her memory, so that she would always be able to draw up this moment in time and relive it. Far into the future, when she was living without him, when he was once again nothing more than a longing in the night, she would wrap herself in this moment and find the beauty and disregard the pain.

  His expression was fierce. His eyes flashing. His jaw tight. He was...everything.

  Gazes locked, Kellan reached down to where their bodies were joined and stroked that one spot that was filled with every beautiful sensation in the world. The moment he did, Irina’s body and soul splintered again. A crashing wave of pleasure a thousand times stronger than the one before washed over her. Rocking her hips wildly, she called his name and rode that crest of satisfaction even as he claimed his own and emptied himself into her.

  Then she collapsed onto his chest and felt his arms come around her.

  * * *

  Kellan cradled Irina to his chest and waited for his heartbeat to ease back down. Though the chances of that happening while he was holding a naked Irina seemed pretty damn slim. He’d known going in just how good sex with her was. But even he was amazed at what he’d just experienced. She had completely rattled him. His mind was a muddy blank and his body felt as if it had been wrung out and tossed aside.

  If he had half a brain, he’d roll her off him and ease her onto the mattress. Regain a little distance between them. A safety zone. But not yet, he told himself, sliding his palms up and down her body.

  She gave a soft, satisfied sigh, then lifted her head to meet his eyes. Her long strawberry blond hair was a tangle around her face and across her shoulders. Her dark green eyes looked like a forest at midnight
—cool, impenetrable. And when her mouth curved slightly, his did, too.

  “Damn if I haven’t missed you,” he said, reluctantly admitting the plain truth.

  She shook her head and laughed a little and the ripples of the sound slid into his heart. “No, you didn’t miss me. You missed the sex.”

  “Well, yeah. It’s pretty damn great.” But she was wrong. He’d missed her, too. Missed the way she studied him as if looking for answers. Missed the way her hair smelled, like apples and summer. Missed that slight curve of her mouth and the way her eyes glittered when she climaxed. He missed her famous Russian Chocolate Salami and her ridiculous love of mint chocolate-chip ice cream.

  Kellan felt a hard squeeze of his heart. Yes. He’d missed her. And that was a dangerous thing.

  “You’re right about that. The sex is wonderful.” She rolled to one side of him and Kellan instantly wished she hadn’t. In spite of knowing he should keep a buffer zone between them—for her sake, of course—he liked the heat of her, the sleek, soft slide of her body against his. Damn it. He might be in some trouble.

  Scrambling to get under the duvet, she muttered, “It’s cold in here.”

  “I can fix that.” He reached for the bedside table, picked up a remote and clicked it.

  Across the room, a gas fireplace leaped into life, with flames dancing across artificial logs. Outside, the wind was still whistling under the eaves and the gray sky looked darker now, more forbidding. And the ambient light in the room dimmed as if in sympathy.

  “The fire’s nice, thanks.” She turned her head to look at him. “I didn’t get time for much of a look, but this is a nice house, Kellan.”

  He glanced around as if noticing for the first time. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”

  “But you do know it’s Christmas, don’t you?” she asked.

  “What?” That came out of nowhere.

  Leaning against a pillow propped against the heavy oak headboard, Irina held the duvet up over her breasts with one hand and waved her free arm to encompass the room. “Well, I really like this room—”

  “Thanks,” he mused, waiting for the but. It was a big room, with a massive four-poster bed, two leather club chairs in front of the used brick-and-stone hearth and an eighty-inch flat screen hanging above it. Right now, though, he’d have to say the bed was his favorite part of the space. “I’m pretty fond of it myself at the moment.”

  One corner of her mouth quirked. “I bet—but you need a Christmas tree in here. Right in front of the bay window. And at least one more downstairs in your great room. And lights. A lot of lights.”

  Kellan frowned as she talked. He knew that Irina was as much a fan of Christmas as his mother had been. As Shea had been. He really didn’t celebrate Christmas. Hadn’t since Shea died. What was the point? He was alone. He didn’t need to be reminded of the holiday so that his solitude could be even more starkly defined.

  But he wasn’t going to get into that with her. Instead, he snorted and tried to make light of it all. “I don’t think so. Just because the Hollow is lit up like a small city every December doesn’t mean I carry that tradition on. That was all my mom’s idea.

  “Actually, it always surprised me that Buck kept that tradition going after he and Mom split up.” Now that he thought about it, though, Kellan was pretty sure Buck had done it because it was expected of a wealthy man to put on a big show. And Buck had always done what was expected. Except for paying attention to his damn family, of course.

  She turned her head to look at him. “That’s a shame.”

  He shrugged, walked naked to the bathroom to clean up, then went back to the bed and got under the duvet himself. Without her warmth against him, he felt the chill in the room down to his bones. Not something he wanted to think about, or even acknowledge. Even to himself.

  “Hardly a shame. I live in Nashville, remember? I’m almost never here,” he said, hooking one arm behind his head.

  “So you decorate at your house in Nashville?” Her tone said clearly she already knew the answer.

  Kellan frowned. “No. Why would I? Just for myself? Pointless to decorate for Christmas when you live alone.”

  “That’s a terrible attitude,” she said, sliding her hands up and down the duvet covering her. “Christmas is a lovely time of year. It reminds us to take pleasure in small moments. To be thankful for what we have. That’s never pointless.”

  Not for someone like her, he supposed. Kellan, though, didn’t want to be reminded of heartbreak. Loneliness. Better to just close his eyes and try to get through December unscathed.

  “Uh-huh.” He glanced at her and attempted to change the subject. “Is this really what you want to talk about? Christmas trees?”

  She shrugged. “Probably the safest possible subject.”

  “Meaning?”

  Smoothing her hands over the duvet, she asked, “Would you rather start the sex-doesn’t-change-anything-between-us conversation?”

  Scowling, he went up on one elbow to look down at her. “Excuse me?”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” she countered, shaking her head as if shaming a two-year-old. “I can see in your eyes, that a part of you is already writing the speech. You’re planning how to tell me that sex means nothing and that I shouldn’t start building castles in the sky.”

  Irritated that he was, apparently, so easy to read, Kellan said, “I don’t have to tell you that. You know it already. Right?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Irina agreed, shaking her hair back from her face. Her green eyes fixed on him, she said, “I have no castles about you, Kellan. Not anymore.”

  No castles. He assumed that meant she wasn’t indulging in daydreams about him. About them. That was good.

  And even more irritating.

  Seven years ago, he’d had to tell her that he was leaving Royal—and her—behind. She’d looked up at him like he’d just pulled the proverbial rug from beneath her feet. They’d shared an amazing week of sex and laughter and late-night feasts, naked in bed. But when their time was up, he’d left, determined not to make the mistake of getting too close with her again. He’d watched her eyes cloud with pain as he said goodbye. Heard a quaver in her voice as she realized that their time together was over.

  What a difference seven years made. Clearly today Irina was the one in charge. He didn’t like it.

  “Let me save you the effort this time,” she said, “so you can get rid of that worried scowl on your face.”

  Kellan deliberately eased his expression. “I’m not worried.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad.” Irina’s delicate, long-fingered hands still moved over the duvet as if she were stroking a beloved pet. “You don’t have to worry about me, or about how I feel, because I won’t be hurt again, Kellan.”

  “Didn’t mean to hurt you then.”

  “And yet you managed.” A small smile bloomed on her face, then disappeared again.

  He hated hearing that, despite the fact that he’d known it even then. But there’d been no other way. Not for him. Royal had been choking him.

  “I had to go. Had to get away from Royal.” God, the memories of Shea had been everywhere. Kellan had felt as if he couldn’t face the cowboys on the ranch or go into town without meeting a sympathetic face. He’d felt suffocated. Back then, it had been a choice to either leave town or die. And getting away from Irina had been imperative. Being with her had felt like a betrayal of Shea, so every time he looked at Irina, he’d felt that pain, too.

  “You don’t have to explain,” she said, lifting one hand to stop him when he would have continued.

  She tipped her head to one side and her hair fell in a strawberry blond curtain. “I survived. And now, I’m not the woman I was seven years ago. I’ve changed. Grown. And I can accept this for what it is.”

  Irritation mounted. Irrational? Maybe. But damned if he could sto
p the feeling. Still, he swallowed it back. “Okay, let’s hear it. What do you think this is?”

  “Just what you wanted back then,” she said simply. “It’s easy. No complications. It’s two adults enjoying each other with no promises made or broken.” Smiling, she sighed, then lifted both arms high and stretched languorously. The duvet dropped, baring her breasts to him, and Kellan wondered if she’d done it on purpose.

  Reaching out, she cupped his cheek with one hand and said, “You’re still frowning, Kellan, and there’s no need. I promise you, I’m fine. We’re good together. We’re both still single. We’re both dealing with the loss of Buck and so it’s easy to come together—however briefly.”

  She looked so patient. So...sympathetic. Kellan wondered if that was how he looked when he was delivering this speech. Hell, he was being dismissed. Quite efficiently. Kellan was astonished and just a little dumbstruck. He’d said practically the same damn thing countless times. But this was the first time he’d been on the receiving end, and he had to say, he didn’t like it.

  Hell, was this what she’d felt all those years ago? Regret stabbed at him. Rubbing the back of his neck, he told himself to get over it. That he should be grateful for everything she’d just said. Instead, he felt like a gigolo being paid his fee and told to leave.

  “You’re looking worried again, Kellan.” She laughed a little as she reached out to smooth his hair back from his forehead.

  The touch of her fingers was light as air and yet penetrated right down into his bones.

  “There’s no need,” she repeated. “I told you, I’m fine. My body feels wonderful and my heart is safe.”

  A fresh frown erupted on his face. He felt it and willed it away.

  “So what now? We shake hands and part friends?”