The Renegades: Cole

by Dellin, Genell

  She couldn’t even tear her gaze away from his face long enough to see what it was.

  The shadows flickered across his eyes, the moon laid a ribbon of shining silver across his mouth. Her very heart turned over inside her. His gorgeous, sensual lips, full and slightly parted, curved at the corners in the ghost of a smile. A smile on that fiercely handsome face could make any woman weak with desire.

  He knelt, and she felt a soft bed beneath her, but she couldn’t loose her arms from around his neck.

  “No use trying to distract me now …,” he said, dropping hot, sweet kisses onto her cheeks and hair, her forehead, the last one deliberately, tantalizingly close to the edge of her lips.

  She turned her face to try to catch his lips with hers, but his mouth danced away.

  “… I’m a stronger man than that.”

  “You’re the one distracting …”

  He turned her around, settled her back against his chest, surrounded her with the iron safety of his arms.

  “There,” he said. “For you, Miss Aurora.”

  A huge bouquet of flowers shone at the head of the bedroll he had spread there, some lighter, some darker, but all silver in the moonlight. All silver and all wonderfully beautiful and all for her.

  Sudden tears blurred her eyes. To think that he would do such a thing!

  “Gorgeous,” she whispered. “Oh, Cole.”

  “I saw ‘em when I was hunting my hat,” he said, “and stole a bucket from Cookie to put ‘em in.”

  “Oh, Cole.”

  “ ‘Course they were already soaking wet from the storm, but I didn’t know how long before they’d wilt.”

  “Oh, Cole.”

  “In the morning you can see they’re the color of the sky—and your eyes.”

  “Oh, Cole!”

  “You’ve gone to repeating yourself somethin’ terrible,” he said, and began rubbing his cheek against hers, his lips seeking hers, demanding her kiss. “We’re gonna have to put a stop to that.”

  His mouth, hot and hungry, took hers, and she turned in his arms like a starving person.

  “Ah, Aurora, darlin’,” he moaned into her mouth as he drove her down beneath him on his bed.

  He broke the kiss only for the most fleeting instant, though, and she fell into it with a passionate abandon that wiped away the world. Nothing else existed, nothing, except Cole, hard and strong and wanting her, bringing her flowers, melting her against him until she needed nothing more.

  Except more of him.

  His tongue twined with hers, talked to her without words, tempted her and tantalized all of her body, set her blood to rolling high, filled her with fire. His hands opened the blanket, slipped beneath her gown, stroked her ardent skin.

  She reached for the buckle of his belt, ran her palm over the bulging buttons of his Levis. The touch made him moan with pleasure.

  The buckle came undone.

  “Boots,” he muttered against her lips.

  Finally, with an incoherent sound of protest that came from deep in his throat, he tore his mouth from hers and sat up to pull off his boots, but with one hand still touching her almost all the time, with his mouth coming back to hers again and again. Aurora found the fly of his jeans with both hands, began work on the buttons.

  One by one they popped open, the huge hardness of his manhood beneath them swelling beneath her fingers, torturing her trembling hands. He gave a desperate groan and ground his mouth into hers, cupped her breast in his hand, kneading it, rubbing the standing nipple with his thumb through the thin fabric of her gown. With the other, he began to help her, and somehow the two of them managed to divest him of his pants without breaking the kiss or removing his hand.

  She ran her hands up under his shirt and rubbed the muscles rippling under the smooth skin of his back with her palms. Until she could no longer stand any barrier between them.

  “Quick,” she said, gasping for air but wanting nothing but his mouth again, “get this off me.

  He did, while she ripped open the buttons of his shirt and pushed it off his huge shoulders. He shook it off his arms and away, and they fell back into each other’s arms. She arched her back enough to rub the hard tips of her breasts against his chest, and he gave a rough, primal cry of wanting, needing, needing her, that melded her to him.

  “Darlin’,” he whispered.

  The endearment was only the lightest feather drifting on that one long breath of his, but it floated all the way into her heart. How could she ever have lived for twenty-four years without this? She hadn’t. She had only existed.

  She’d never have the power of speech anymore, those had been her last words, ever, because for the rest of her time on earth all she was going to do was give her mouth to Cole, take his mouth with hers, kiss him brazenly and mutely for the rest of her natural life. That’s all she would need, that and his hard, hot length on top of her. And his hands caressing her skin.

  And … yet, something more.

  Cole knew that. He broke the kiss and slipped his hand beneath her back to arch her up again and hold her gently, like a treasure newly found. He lowered his head to her breast and took her hard nipple into his mouth, surrounded it with his tongue and suckled it with his lips. All power of thought left her, too.

  Moving on pure instinct, she thrust her fingers into his hair to cradle his head in her hands, to hold it carefully there so he could never stop what he was doing, never, ever. He was creating heat in her blood that rose all the way through her skin, he was sending thrills along her skin that sank all the way into her bones.

  He was making her tremble all over, making her womanhood weep for him.

  He was destroying her, for she would never be the same. And she did not care, all she wanted was more.

  She let him move to her other breast, but she kept running her fingers through his hair, kept holding his mouth where she wanted it, willing this delight never to end, until he began stroking his calloused palm over her hip, over her thigh, along the inside of her thigh. Then his fingers moved higher and into her and her hands fell away from him, she collapsed with her arms at her sides, lost in the sensations Cole created, lost in the magic he made that filled every one of her senses.

  To make her beg in helpless silence for more.

  He knew that, too. He heard her begin to whimper deep in her throat, he felt her arching to him, pleading with her breasts, her wordless tongue.

  But it was not until she was able to lift her hands and to find his hard shoulders, to rake her nails over them and cry out in incoherent, frantic supplication that he lifted himself over her and she brought him in. A sting of pain ran through her at that first moment, but then she melted around him and moved with him in the ageless, seductive rhythm of a woman and a man.

  And then the lightning struck again, into the midst of this new, mighty storm, struck inside them both as one, and they were burning, together, like the flame of a tall pine in the wind. Dancing through the sultry air together, flashing like one glittering star in the dark of the night.

  When their blaze became a conflagration, it consumed her, heart and soul, for Cole tore his mouth from hers, threw back his head, and called out her name.

  He woke at first light. For one long, delicious moment, no thoughts came to him, only the feel of Aurora, nestled in his arms, and the scent of her. The warm satin of her skin against his. The cloud of her hair tickling his chin, shining like the spun gold of a fairy tale, even in the last feeble light from the moon. The soft, gentle sound of her slow breathing, deep as a sleeping child’s.

  She was a woman, for sure, though. He’d never known one with such passion.

  So how could he have known that he was the first man for her?

  He couldn’t have, so he shouldn’t feel guilty about that. After all, hadn’t she talked about suitors from here to Philadelphia? Hadn’t she come to his bed in her nightgown?

  A tenderness took him, anyway, and he held her even closer, although already they were faste
ned together everywhere they touched like the bark on a tree. And he was gratified by every inch of it. He could barely remember what it was like to wake up with her not in his arms.

  That was a damned dangerous position to be in, for an old renegade like him. He never stayed the night with any woman, ever.

  He hardly ever even cared to be with any woman twice.

  Right now, he wanted to be with Aurora forever.

  He ought to tell her, as soon as she opened those big blue eyes of hers, that this would never happen again. That was it. He was her bodyguard. That was all.

  Just waking up holding her was heaven, though. He waited a minute more.

  Finally he kissed her shoulder, then gathered her to him and squeezed her tightly for one heartbeat, then two.

  “Aurora,” he whispered. “You don’t want to miss your namesake, do you?”

  She opened her eyes and shifted in the curve of his arm to turn to look at him.

  “Your skin’s soft as a foal’s nose,” he said, stroking her arm.

  Her slow smile made his heart turn over.

  “Well, well, that certainly is an improvement,” she said, her words slurry with sleep, “better than ‘Aurora, you’re stubborn as a mule’ by a long shot.”

  He laughed.

  “What was it you said when I woke up?”

  He looked into her eyes and forgot what the question was, much less the answer.

  “Something about my namesake?”

  “Oh. Yeah. The dawn. Doesn’t Aurora mean dawn?”

  Her face brightened. She was coming awake now.

  “Yes, and it’s very romantic of you to mention that, Mr. McCord. Almost as romantic as bringing me flowers.”

  Romantic. For sure nobody had ever called him that before.

  “Hey, thanks,” he drawled, “but you don’t know that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  She flipped onto her stomach in a heartbeat, tight as he was holding her, and reached for the bouquet.

  “These are so, so gorgeous,” she said, and brought them closer to bury her face in them. “Thank you, Cole. You are so thoughtful.”

  Dear God. She was making too much of him.

  “Hey, watch it there, missy,” he said, wiping at the drops of water coming off the stems of the flowers, “you’re getting our bed all wet.”

  Our bed. He should tell her right now. This was a one and only one-time happening, for they mustn’t get attached to each other. Sleep with her once more and no telling what’d be coming out of his fool mouth.

  But she was looking into his face, blue eyes twinkling.

  “That’s a laugh, coming from the champion of dunking people in the river. Decided you’re made of sugar? Afraid you’ll melt?”

  He only grinned at her. That was all he could think to do, since he couldn’t remember what he’d started to say.

  Her mischief faded into a misty look.

  “I dreamed about you,” she said, brushing her cheek against the petals of the flowers.

  His heart contracted. When had anyone, ever, dreamed of him?

  “No, darlin’,” he drawled, “you were awake. You only thought it was a dream.”

  She laughed.

  “You always think I don’t know my own mind, but I do.”

  Then, with a smile that melted him, she reached over and stroked his cheek with her soft fingers. Velvet fingers.

  “Keep on wearing your gloves for riding,” he said. “It’s paying off.”

  She grinned.

  “So you approve of one thing I do.”

  He let his gaze wander down the length of her, over the one shoulder that was bare and the leg twined with his on top of the blanket.

  “I approve of many things you do.”

  She laughed and blushed, a little bit embarrassed, which made him smile.

  And made him think about the fact that he was the first man who’d ever lain with her.

  The sound of pots clanging together and then Cookie’s voice floated up to them from camp.

  “No!” she whispered, and snuggled closer to rum one tantalizing fingertip down the middle of his chest.

  “Don’t do that,” he whispered back, “I’m leaving you now.”

  Coward. Yellow-bellied, craven coward.

  He opened his mouth.

  He looked into her eyes and closed it again.

  Lowering his head, he took a quick, hard kiss from her lips, then let himself have another light one from the tip of her nose.

  “We don’t want to set the boys’ chins to wagging, now, do we?”

  “Fine with me,” she said, her blue eyes wide and fixed on his. “What the boss and the bodyguard do is none of anybody else’s business, I’ve decided.”

  He already was hard, longing to feel her around him again, and that sent a sharp shaft of desire straight through him.

  “I’ve got to get away from you, Vixen. I’m scared you’re gonna corrupt me.”

  She laughed, and she looked so beautiful, lying there in his arms with her hair curling all around her face in a soft, blonde cloud, that he came within an inch of losing his control. He forced himself to put her down gently, disentangle them, and reach for his pants.

  “Better get your blanket on, ma’am,” he said. “Folks is stirrin’.”

  She sat up and looked around while he was pulling on ids boots.

  “Why, you can see my wagon from here, plain as can be! It’s not far, either, as the crow flies.”

  “Bodyguard position,” he said. “I wasn’t sure whether you’d come out here or not.”

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she said, and leaned forward to hug him from behind, the mass of flowers still in one arm. “You even had a bouquet for me. Next time I’ll bring a bottle of wine.”

  Her bare breasts against his bare back were exquisite torture.

  Her words were torture, too. Next time. What had they started here?

  He said good-bye with one more quick kiss and got out of there and into the trees, carrying the rest of his clothes. In the nick of time. Looking for the cold creek to jump into before breakfast and a wagonload of courage.

  Aurora slipped down the hillside to her wagon, keeping to the shadows, which were vanishing fast in the rays of the rising sun. She ran along the offside of the hoodlum wagon and climbed up onto the tailgate on the side away from the fire. It was true what she’d said to Cole, though, she really didn’t care what anybody thought about her coming in from the woods wrapped in a blanket with her arms full of flowers. She just didn’t want to listen to Cookie’s ranting about her and Cole, that was all.

  She smiled to herself as she climbed up onto the tailgate and slid in behind the canvas flap. Her and Cole. Cole and Aurora. Aurora and Cole.

  Quickly, she looked through her clean clothes and chose the new blue and fawn jacket and riding skirt she had bought in Pueblo City. She might not even need it to ride into a town before they got to Texas, they might not even go near any town. Besides, she wanted to wear new clothes to celebrate. They had all survived a stampede with most of the cattle, hadn’t they?

  She put on her wrapper, gathered her towel and wash pitcher, and, smiling, stepped out of her wagon into the pink and yellow dawn of a great new day. All during breakfast, all during the saddling of the horses and her telling off the riders—giving assignments for the search for the strays—she couldn’t stop smiling. She tried, because she didn’t want old eagle-eye Cookie quizzing her, but she couldn’t, because this was just the most wonderful day since they’d started the drive. Since she could remember, actually. The attraction between her and Cole was physical, but not just that.

  The two of them took the southeasterly quadrant for their share of the search so that they’d also be able to scout the way they were headed with the herd. He was disinclined to talk much, but most of the time they separated anyway to look for strays. They stayed within sight of each other, though, at all times, and she could fairly feel the bond between them in the air.r />
  Aurora found a half-dozen strays and rounded them up, started them to meet Cole, who had come across about as many and was heading them in her general direction. One of the steers Aurora had in her gather was a big, rangy black with one horn tip broken, whom the men had nicknamed Snarly. He was a truly mean-spirited creature who already had caused much grief on the trail by alternately attacking his companions and trying to break away from the herd, and as she and Cole threw their finds together, he was up to his old tricks.

  “Hi-ya!” Aurora yelled, riding around the others to try to slap at him with a coiled rope. “You hateful thing, you, get away from her.”

  She looked across the jostling cattle to Cole.

  “I don’t know why I’m waiting until we get to the new ranch to make barbeque out of him,” she said.

  Cole was circling the little herd of strays to tighten them up before they started them back to the main herd.

  “Yep,” he said. “You’d save all of us a lot of trouble if he was supper tonight.”

  “I know,” she said, as he rode up beside her. “But we have plenty of supplies now, and we might need him worse next winter.”

  She smiled at Cole.

  “When we’re catching up on our playing, like we said, after all this summer’s work.”

  He gave her an odd look she couldn’t read. His shoulders flinched as if she’d dealt him a blow. He looked straight at her, but he didn’t smile back.

  “Do you like barbeque in the wintertime?” she said. “Or would you rather have an enormous pot of stew with onions and potatoes and lots of jarred tomatoes?”

  Still, he was strangely silent for a moment. Only an instant too long.

  And then, only a shade too carefully, he said, “No telling what I’11 be eating this winter. No telling where I’ll be.”

  A swift shard of hurt rolled through her, sharp points hitting, then missing.

  “Hey,” she said, trying to force a light tone, “that’s your business. I’m only going by a remark you yourself made about next winter’s activities.”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t quite the same.

  “I reckon I oughtta curb my tongue,” he said. “I’m old enough to know when to stop flirting, knowin’ what a beautiful woman you are.”