Rolling Like Thunder

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Rolling Like Thunder Page 6

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  He longed to span her narrow waist with both hands, to kneel before her and pay homage to that downy blond triangle where he’d spent so much quality time last night. He’d love to revisit that special place now that the sun was rising.

  That wasn’t the only thing rising, either.

  She glanced at his cock and then looked into his eyes. “Finn, I know you think it’s unfair to get sexually involved with me on this trip that’s supposed to be about your foster parents, especially when you plan to drop me like a hot potato when we get home.”

  “That’s because it is unfair. I’m not that kind of guy.”

  “I know you’re not. You’re driven and ambitious, but you’re not a user.”

  “That’s not true, either. I used Alison and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

  “Used her? Near as I could tell, she honed in on you like a heat-seeking missile.”

  “I admit she was determined, but that doesn’t excuse my decision to accept her proposal.”

  “She proposed? I didn’t know that, but I’m not too surprised.”

  “She did, but I could have turned her down.” He hated saying it out loud, but she needed to know all the ugly truths about him. “Instead I agreed to marry her because I thought she was a safe alternative to you.”

  “What?”

  “You’re the most exciting woman I’ve ever met. If we started dating, I’d abandon my business so I could spend more time with you.”

  “You would not! I—”

  “Look at how I reacted last night!” He swept a hand toward his stiff cock. “How I’m reacting right now. You turn me on like no one else. I could so easily become obsessed with you. I knew I’d never become obsessed with Alison and I thought...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is really hard to say.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “No, I need to. If you understand how rotten I am, you’ll stay away. I knew that something had to change, so I thought if I had a normal, domesticated life with Alison, I’d get over wanting you. It didn’t work. She’s a nice person, but—”

  “She’s not nice. She walked off with that huge settlement, which was way too much considering she did nothing to build the business. And she took your dog and your cat.”

  “She deserves the settlement, the two animals and a lot more. I think she knew in her heart that I used her as a substitute for you, and she was furious. She had every right to be.”

  Chelsea swallowed. “I knew you were attracted to me, but I had no idea how much.”

  “Or what lengths I would go to in order to create a barrier between us.”

  “Finn, I’m not that scary. Honest.” She started toward him.

  “No, you’re wonderful. I’m the one with the issues.” He should turn away and get dressed, but he was mesmerized by her lithe body as she slowly approached. “I can’t take a chance that I’ll ignore my foster parents and their problems. Or somehow lose O’Roarke’s because I’m distracted.”

  “You won’t do that.” She moved closer. “I know how much you care about Rosie and Herb and I’ve seen the dedication you bring to your business. You won’t allow yourself to be distracted.”

  “If you’re right, then I’d end up shortchanging you. You should have a guy who can give you all the attention you deserve.”

  “You certainly did last night.” She stopped when the blatant evidence of his arousal nudged her belly. “And we have a little time before breakfast.”

  He groaned. “We have to stop this.”

  “Look, at the moment there’s nothing you can do about either the ranch or your business, so why not give yourself permission to have fun?”

  “Because it’s not fair to you.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.” She wrapped her fingers around his all-too-willing cock. “Come back to bed with me. Let’s play.”

  He caved. What guy wouldn’t? But as he once again explored the wonders of her body, a little voice whispered that this was a prime example. With Chelsea, it was all or nothing. She was his Kryptonite and he indulged himself at his peril.

  They ended up missing breakfast entirely. But when Finn opened her door intending to go to his room to shower and shave, he found a tray with a carafe of hot coffee, two mugs and a basket of pastries. He brought the tray back into the room and they sat on the bed to eat.

  Chelsea picked up a croissant. “I could get used to the bed-and-breakfast lifestyle.”

  “This particular bed-and-breakfast, especially. The cinnamon rolls remind me of my grandfather.” The moment he’d said it, he wished he hadn’t. He blamed the cozy atmosphere they’d created with sex and breakfast in bed for that unintentional revelation.

  She knew about his life at Thunder Mountain Ranch and that he’d landed there when his grandfather had died, leaving him without any living relatives. But he’d never talked about the man who’d raised him from the time Finn was three until he’d died of a heart attack when Finn was thirteen. The memories were so bittersweet—more bitter than sweet, really.

  “He liked cinnamon rolls?”

  “Loved them. It was our Sunday-morning treat from the bakery down the street.”

  “Nice memory.” She smiled at him.

  No it wasn’t, because his grandfather had never had quite enough cash to pay for the cinnamon rolls. He’d played on the sympathy of the counter clerk to discount the purchase because of the hungry boy standing beside him. Finn had loved the pastries but he’d hated the serving of pity that had come with them.

  Only four people in the world knew about that humiliation as well as the many others that had been part of living with a man who had been terrible with money. Cade Gallagher and Damon Harrison—the other two members of the exclusive group they called the Thunder Mountain Brotherhood—knew. And so did Rosie and Herb.

  “You got really quiet all of a sudden.” Chelsea gazed at him with an expression that said she wouldn’t pry, but she was ready to listen if he wanted to talk.

  In the end, it seemed silly not to tell her about his grandpa. After all, he and Chelsea had been business partners for five years, and in the past few hours they’d...oh, yes, they certainly had. They’d torn down some barricades, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to reconstruct them.

  “My Grandpa O’Roarke was a failure.” He gauged her reaction and could see she was gearing up to refute that. “Yes, he gave me shelter when there was no one else, and I’m grateful. But he barely managed to keep us housed and fed because he was so busy chasing every get-rich scheme he encountered.”

  Understanding was reflected in her eyes. “That explains a lot.”

  “I’m sure it does. His favorite dream was to own his own pub. That’s probably not unusual for an Irishman, and I so desperately wanted him to succeed. But he didn’t have it in him, and I was just a kid. I couldn’t see where he was going wrong.”

  “I’ll bet you do now.”

  “Yep. He won a little money in a lottery. If he’d invested it well, he might have been able to open that pub. But he’d invested it poorly and given the rest to a friend who was about to be evicted.”

  She sipped her coffee. “So he was generous, like you.”

  “Generosity is great if you can pay your own rent. If you can’t, then you end up asking the landlord to give you a break. You end up talking the baker into letting you have cinnamon rolls for half price because your grandson loves them so.”

  She regarded him silently for a moment. “And you hated that.”

  “I did.”

  “I’m so glad you told me about this. I didn’t know what was behind your plan to open O’Roarke’s Brewhouse. Now I do.”

  “Maybe I should have told you sooner.”

  She shook her head. “We had to get to this point first.”

  “Me
aning that we had to get naked?”

  “In a way. But more than being naked, which has been an excellent experience, by the way, I needed to see your disciplined approach to your business. What if you’d confessed all this that first day in the coffee shop?”

  He thought about it. “I would have sounded like a nutcase, as if my entire goal was to create a business my grandfather would have loved and make it work the way he couldn’t.”

  She didn’t say a word, simply looked at him.

  “And that is my goal, pretty much.” The realization hummed through his veins. “I’ve never fully admitted that and certainly haven’t said it to anyone else, but that’s it. I want to do what he couldn’t, both for him and for me.”

  “And you have.”

  “Thanks to you.” He’d never been more aware of his debt to her than he was now.

  “I wouldn’t jeopardize what you’ve accomplished.”

  “Not knowingly.” Even though he should be sexually satisfied, he had only to glance over at her sitting across from him on the bed and his thoughts turned to warm skin and hot kisses. They had an important assignment this weekend, and yet being with her had become a priority.

  Her expression was soft with compassion. “Believe it or not, I can be the voice of reason.”

  “I sure do hope so, because I’m quickly discovering that when sex with you is an option, I’m the voice of what-the-hell.”

  “You’re not used to letting go. To use a horse analogy, you’ve been keeping yourself penned up. It’s logical that when you jump the fence for the first time, you’ll go a little crazy.”

  “Oh, you think so?” He took her mug, put it on the tray and moved everything to the bedside table. “I’ll show you how crazy I am, lady.” And he tackled her, making her giggle as he pushed her down on the soft sheets.

  Then he held her arms above her head while he placed butterfly kisses on her cheeks and her mouth. He didn’t dare settle into a real kiss because his beard would scratch like the very devil.

  “I’ve known you could be,” she said breathlessly. “I’ve known it forever.”

  “Turns out you were right.” He moved down her body, nipping at her soft skin but always careful not to rub his prickly chin against her. He licked her navel until she squealed and swatted him away.

  Then he settled between her thighs, but before he zeroed in on his target, he carefully laid sections of the top sheet over her creamy skin.

  “Now that’s crazy.” She lifted up to watch what he was doing. “I don’t care about a little whisker burn down there.”

  “But I do. Now lie back and relax because I’m going to make you come again. It’s been at least an hour, so you’re due.”

  She flopped back onto the mattress. “I was wondering when you’d check the schedule and realize that.”

  “Now. Right now.” And he returned to his favorite place in the world. To think until last night he’d never visited paradise. He’d never experienced her seashell-pink softness, moist with her arousal. He’d never tasted the tangy aphrodisiac of her.

  And he’d never heard her rich moan of pleasure when he used his tongue right there. He circled the spot again and she arched off the bed. He raked her gently with his teeth and she cried out. Then he took full control and she exploded against his tongue, bathing it in all things wonderful.

  She was right that he’d gone crazy. Licking and nuzzling her heat in the aftermath of her climax, he was already looking forward to the end of the day when they could be alone and he was granted the right to touch her like this again.

  He dared any man who’d discovered this kind of paradise to maintain his sanity. He’d tried to drive her away, but she wouldn’t go. Instead she’d moved closer and invited him to enjoy her body for as long as he wished.

  God help him, he wasn’t strong enough to refuse an invitation like that. She knew all the terrible truths about him and she still wanted him in her bed tonight. And when they came together again, they’d have supplies. He’d finally know what it was like to sink deep into her warmth.

  He suspected that sensation would make him crazier than ever.

  6

  CHELSEA HAD ALWAYS imagined she could tell whether a couple was having sex by the way they acted with each other in public. She thought about that as Finn pulled the gray SUV into a circular gravel drive in front of the Last Chance’s imposing log ranch house. Not only had she and Finn spent most of the past twelve hours in bed together, but on the way here they’d made a quick detour to the Shoshone General Store. Consequently a box of condoms rested in a small bag at her feet.

  Finn thought the purchase would eventually be common knowledge in a town the size of Shoshone, but Chelsea was okay with that. Or so she told herself. Having people know that she was involved with Finn shouldn’t matter. Her nerves were probably due to the presentation she was about to give.

  No, that wasn’t it. Last night when she’d first met the Chance family, she hadn’t been sleeping with Finn. Now she was, and despite considering herself a modern, evolved woman, she felt a little self-conscious about that. Stupid, but there it was.

  “The Chance family has quite the layout.” Finn braked in front of the steps leading up to an elaborately carved wooden door. Rockers lined the long front porch, which stretched on either side of the main entrance.

  He glanced at a parking area off to the side of the house that was already crowded with cars and trucks. “Maybe you should get out here. Might be easier on your shoes.”

  “It would. Thanks.” Besides, if she arrived first, that might emphasize the professional nature of her trip here and minimize her connection with Finn. This was a business event, after all, and she was the one giving the presentation. She’d rather not have anyone speculate on her personal life today.

  “I’ll help you carry your stuff in.”

  “That’s okay.” A truck pulled in behind them and she quickly opened her door and grabbed her laptop case. “You should probably vacate the driveway and get a space before they’re all gone.”

  He hesitated.

  “Seriously. Much as I appreciate your offer.” He was in gallant cowboy mode and certainly looked the part. She’d had trouble keeping her hands to herself when he’d appeared in a dark blue shirt with silver piping and gray Western slacks that matched his hat. “I can handle this.”

  “Okay.” But he didn’t look happy about it. “See you in a minute.”

  “Okay.” She stepped down and wobbled a bit as she made her way across the gravel driveway with her laptop slung over her shoulder. She hoped the gravel wouldn’t chew up her heels. They weren’t expensive, but she liked them and they went great with this dress.

  And now they had a hot memory attached. She’d never forget the sensation of Finn gently removing her shoes. The memory sent warmth rushing through her and she paused on the first step to give herself a quick lecture. Thoughts that made her skin flush were exactly why people would suspect she was sexually involved with a certain tall cowboy.

  Instead of thinking about Finn, she should concentrate on her immediate surroundings. He’d told her that the Last Chance Ranch was considered a landmark around here, and she could see why. Few people built a two-story log house this immense unless they planned to turn it into a hotel.

  Fall flowers in yellow and orange bloomed in carefully tended beds on either side of the steps, softening the overpowering effect of the massive structure. The square center section was flanked by two wings set at an angle resembling open arms. She couldn’t imagine how many square feet the house must contain.

  As she mounted the steps, the door opened and Jack Chance came out, dressed like Finn except all in black. “I estimated you’d be arriving about now.” He flashed a smile. “Let me carry your laptop.” He neatly divested her of it before she could open her mouth.


  “Thank you, Jack.” Cowboys just couldn’t help being chivalrous, apparently. If they were hardwired to make these gestures, she might as well relax and enjoy it.

  “Lily’s inside setting up the projector.”

  “Lily?” She started toward the door, although he’d probably get his hand on the handle first.

  “She’s a computer genius, literally.” He moved ahead of her and opened the thick wooden door. “When you asked about a projector and screen, I put Lily on the case. She’s married to Regan, Nick’s partner in the vet clinic, and she also runs an equine rescue operation on the far side of town.” He motioned Chelsea inside the house.

  “Equine rescue? That sounds fascinating. I wonder if she’d be willing to do some guest lectures at Thunder Mountain Academy.”

  “You should ask her. She’d probably love it if you took a drive out there tomorrow to see her setup.”

  “Great idea.” The possibility of adding an equine rescue expert to the staff was exciting, both from a humanitarian and a marketing standpoint. She prayed that many generous backers awaited her inside so that all the plans could go forward.

  Inside the entryway she took a quick inventory of the living room, which was already full of people. A magnificent curved staircase swept up to the second floor and a wagon-wheel chandelier hung from the beamed ceiling. She figured the usual furniture had been moved elsewhere. Instead, straight-backed chairs and a few folding ones had been lined up in front of the fireplace, which had been draped with a white sheet.

  No one was sitting, though. They’d gathered in groups around the perimeter of the room to chat with friends and neighbors. Everyone clutched either a mug or a glass and most held a small plate of cookies, too.

  A long table on the left side of the room was the source of the goodies. A coffee urn sat there, along with a clear glass dispenser for lemonade. Platters of cookies were on the far end, along with plates and napkins.

 

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