Two in the Saddle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  His voice sounded hoarse, as if he’d been the one who’d been sick. “Gwen, I don’t think you’d better—”

  “I do.” She slid her hands around his neck and kissed him.

  10

  HE WAS IRRESISTIBLE. Gwen could no more have stopped herself from walking over and kissing Travis than she could have stopped herself from breathing. As he stood there glowing with happiness because the little baby they’d spent the night tending was finally better, his uncomplicated joy captured her as nothing else could have.

  She’d barely touched her mouth to his before he took her by the shoulders and eased her away from him. “Hey,” he muttered, his breath coming fast. “Watch that. I know you feel happy about this. So do I, but—”

  “I feel grateful,” she said in a husky voice.

  “Yeah, me, too. But the thing is, I’m not in very good control of myself right now.”

  “I feel very grateful.” She was desperate to be near him, to touch the essence that was Travis. She tried to close the distance between them.

  His grip tightened as he kept her from moving closer, and his voice roughened. “I know. I’m grateful, too, but if you kiss me, stuff’s gonna happen.”

  “Yes.” She focused on the point where his fingers clutched her shoulders and imagined his touch over her entire naked body. Oh, yes.

  His gaze grew hot. “Damn it, Gwen, this isn’t a game.”

  “No.”

  He searched her face, as if trying to understand. “You want to…”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  She trembled with desire. “I told you. I’m grateful. Grateful that such a good man is standing in my kitchen.”

  Conflicting emotions burned in his eyes—passion and restraint fighting it out. “I’m not a good man. You were right. I use pleasure to get women to agree to my rules. It’s not fair.”

  She took a long, shuddering breath. “You’ll give me more than just pleasure.”

  Wariness crept into his golden gaze. “I can’t—”

  “Yes, you will.” She looked past his hesitation and found raw hunger, the kind only she could satisfy. “And I won’t ask for promises, but I know who you are, Travis. I know what you need.”

  He closed his eyes and groaned softly. “You don’t know. Don’t do this. You’ll get hurt.”

  “After watching you with Lizzie tonight, I’m willing to take that chance.” She cupped his beard-stubbled face in both hands. “Come to bed with me,” she whispered.

  His body shuddered in reaction as he stood, eyes closed, head bowed. Finally he released her shoulders to cup his hands over hers. Then he brought her palm up to his mouth and kissed her tenderly there.

  Her pulse raced as she waited for his answer, although she was sure what it would be. He was, after all, a highly sexed man. And he’d finally heard the invitation he’d been wanting since the wedding. He wouldn’t be able to resist her any more than she could resist him. And she would show him what love could be.

  But when he opened his eyes, his gaze was bleak and his voice was tight. “No.” He cleared his throat. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but no.” Giving her hands a squeeze he released her and stepped back.

  The unexpected rejection cut through her, leaving her breathless with pain. She should turn away while she could still maintain some composure. “Why?”

  “Because I care about you too much.”

  She saw the light burning in his eyes and knew he’d told her the truth, a truth that wiped away her pain. A truth that gave her hope. “I see.”

  He backed toward the door leading into the hall. “This is for the best.”

  “Maybe it is.” She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

  “I’ll…go on upstairs, then.”

  She nodded.

  “Are you…are you okay?”

  She nodded again. “Fine.” Then she realized that sounded too carefree. “Disappointed, but I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

  “Good.” He looked positively miserable as he turned and walked down the hall. His steps as he climbed the stairs sounded like the tread of a doomed man.

  Which he was, she thought with a grin as she hurried into her bedroom. A quick shower, some scented lotion, a dab of cologne at various strategic spots, and she was ready. A red silk robe that would slide off her shoulders and pool at her feet provided the dramatic touch she was looking for. Then she dug through her vanity for the foil packages a guest had left behind and slipped them in the pocket of her robe.

  Her skin flushed with anticipation, she turned off the lights and started up the stairs.

  LISTENING TO the shower going downstairs, Travis suffered the agony of imagining Gwen with water rushing over her sweet body. He tried to think of other things to distract himself.

  He’d mentally ridden every mile of barbed-wire fence on both Matty’s and Sebastian’s spreads. Staring out through the lace curtains covering the double-hung bedroom window, he’d watched the raindrops hit the glass and relived last year’s roundup, complete with the cold rain that had made the experience one of his least favorites in the Rockies.

  But thinking of the rain brought him back around to the shower running downstairs, and Gwen standing naked under it. Sure enough, he started wondering what color her nipples were. From her Native American ancestry he imagined them dusky-rose against her honey-shaded skin.

  If the shower was warm and the pressure light, they’d be petal soft and supple to the touch, velvety under a man’s fingers. But if she’d adjusted the spray to pelt her breasts and cooled the temperature of the water to draw the heat of desire from her body, her nipples would be taut and nubby, ready for the curl of a man’s tongue and the nip of a man’s teeth.

  He licked dry lips and wished…oh, hell. Now he was lying in her tidy little guest room with an erection so hard he could chip stone with it. He’d never be able to sleep in that condition, but then he hadn’t much expected to sleep, anyway. Getting out of that kitchen without grabbing Gwen had been the biggest achievement of his sorry life. Once finding the strength to do that, he now had to meet the challenge of staying where he was until daybreak.

  He had no business going downstairs for many reasons, but one compelling one was the lack of birth control. Because he’d promised not to touch her if she’d let him stay with Lizzie, he hadn’t brought any with him when he’d come back to Hawthorne House from the ranch. She probably hadn’t thought of preventing pregnancy when she invited him to share her bed. He hadn’t thought of it, either, but he did now.

  Of course, they could have made love in other ways, bypassing the need for condoms and still staying safe. He could imagine how she’d taste, and how her mouth would feel on him. Oh, they could have a fine time, even without birth control. But that was neither here nor there, because he was staying upstairs. He most certainly was.

  Daybreak. He could last until then. Once the sun came up he could cart Lizzie over to Doc Harrison’s for another quick check before he took her back out to the ranch. He could handle things on his own, now that the immediate danger was past. Yep, all he had to do was make it to daybreak.

  And he would make it, somehow. Sure he would. Staying up here and out of her bed was the right thing to do for Gwen, and for himself, too. Making love to her would have landed them both in hot water. He already felt a mental connection to her that was different from what he’d felt for any other women. Add a sexual relationship and no telling what sort of mess he’d get into.

  He turned away from the window and shifted to his back. The smooth sheet caressed his stiffened penis. Damn. Maybe he shouldn’t have stripped all the way down before climbing into this bed, but he’d always preferred sleeping in the raw and had followed his usual pattern. He hadn’t been alone in bed with an erection since he was fifteen.

  And he’d had a method for taking care of the situation when he was fifteen, he thought with a grimace. He’d hoped not to be reduced to such measures ever again, but th
is problem was bordering on painful. A cold shower was out for him. He didn’t want to take the chance of waking Lizzie by running water so close to her room.

  Ah, he was in agony. The family jewels ached almost as much as if he’d been kicked. And no telling how long the condition would last. He couldn’t very well walk into Doc Harrison’s office in such a state, that was for sure.

  Unfortunately, only one solution seemed available to give him relief, and he felt like a teenager having to resort to it, but he had no choice. With a sigh of resignation he threw back the covers and wrapped his fingers around the solid shaft. Squeezing the sensitive tip, he moaned. He would have rather had Gwen’s soft hand caressing him right there instead of his own callused one, but the price was too high.

  He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Gwen there with him. As he started a slow stroke upward, the loose board on the stairs creaked.

  He stopped in mid-motion, his heart hammering. She was probably coming up to check on the baby. He lay there, his jaw clenched, his penis hot and straining in his grip as he waited to hear the stair creak again, signaling that she’d gone back to her room.

  Instead the door edged open.

  A night light in the hall threw her into silhouette, but he knew the bed was still in deep shadow. She wouldn’t be able to see him until her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

  Her scent beckoned to him, an erotic combination of perfumed soap, her cologne, and aroused woman. His body twitched in response. Slowly he unclenched his fingers from around his shaft and eased his hand to his side. He dared not move much. Maybe she was only checking to make sure he was asleep. Maybe…

  Then he almost stopped breathing. Gliding as quietly as a ghost, she stepped into the room and closed the door silently behind her. Bare feet whispered over the Oriental carpet as she crossed to the bed, bringing that wonderful aroma with her.

  “Are you asleep?” she whispered.

  If he hadn’t been so damned aroused he might have laughed at that. He wondered if he’d even be able to speak around the knot in his vocal cords. “No.” He sounded like a rusty hinge. “Is…Lizzie okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” In the dim light from the window he could make out that she wore some sort of soft bathrobe that tied around the waist. He could only think of one reason why she’d come into his room, and God help him, he no longer had the strength to send her away.

  “I can’t see you very well,” she said.

  “That’s good.” He decided to wait and not make a move, in case he was wrong.

  “Why?” she asked softly.

  “You’d probably be shocked.”

  Her voice dropped to a low, sensual purr. “Because you’re lying there naked?”

  “There’s that.” His body hummed and throbbed, demanding release.

  Her breathing quickened. “And…hard?”

  “That, too.”

  She untied her robe and lifted it from her shoulders. “Maybe I can help.” As she lowered her arms, the robe drifted to the floor.

  He swallowed. Even in the dim light from the window, he could tell she was magnificent. Her breasts were as full as he’d imagined and her nipples tipped up slightly, as if in invitation to his eager mouth. Her narrow waist flared to graceful hips and thighs perfectly made to cradle a man…or birth a child. And that was exactly the kind of notion that would get him in trouble.

  “That is if you’ll let me help,” she added, her tone sultry. “Or are you going to send me away in some noble gesture?”

  “No one’s that noble, Gwen.”

  She stepped close to the bed and gazed down at him. “I want the light.”

  “So do I.” He propped himself up on one elbow and reached for the bedside lamp switch.

  “Wait.” She rounded the bed and walked to the window.

  He kept his thumb on the switch as she reached up to pull down the rolled shade. When she raised her arm, he sucked in a breath at the beauty of her in profile against the silver light from the window. Then she pulled the shade and he shoved his thumb against the switch, blinking furiously so he wouldn’t miss that first, revealing moment.

  “Oo. Bright light.” She brought her hand up to her eyes to protect them.

  “Ah, Gwen.” He sighed with pleasure as his gaze traveled from the curve of her throat down the valley between her breasts, over the sweet indentation of her navel, and finally to the dark curls covering her sex.

  She peeked through her fingers at him, and a slow smile curved her full mouth. “Ah, Travis.” She lowered her hand and glanced boldly at his arousal. “Were you expecting me?”

  “No. Wishful thinking.” His breathing grew ragged. “Listen, you need to know that I don’t have any—”

  “I do. In the pocket of my robe.”

  He gazed at her and shook his head in wonder. “I must be dreaming.”

  “Sometimes dreams come true.” She put a knee on the bed and leaned toward him. Her breasts swayed gently as she moved.

  “I’ve never dreamed anything this terrific.”

  “I know. Me, either.” She leaned down to brush her lips against his.

  “If this is a dream—” he paused and slid a hand under her hair, spreading his fingers to cup the back of her head “—don’t wake me.”

  “I only plan to love you,” she murmured. Then she settled her lips against his.

  Her kiss nearly made him erupt. He had no idea a woman could suggest so much with a kiss, but Gwen was telling him with the movement of her lips and tongue exactly what was on her mind. He groaned and thrust his tongue deep, telling her exactly what was on his.

  She drew back a fraction, and her sweet breath feathered his mouth as she whispered the word soon. He sure hoped so. They’d spent hours in mental fore-play, and he was beyond ready.

  He cupped the weight of her breast, and a tremor of need shook him. “Lie back,” he urged softly. “I want—”

  “Not yet.” She wrapped her fingers around his shaft, as he’d imagined her doing only moments ago, when he’d been alone.

  And just like that, she was in complete charge. He had all he could do to keep sane as she stroked him with loving care. Loving. It was the only word that stayed in his fevered mind as she leaned down to caress him with her tongue, her lips, her breath, even the silken strands of her hair.

  He didn’t think he could last…and yet he wanted this to go on forever. He’d never felt so cherished by a lover before, so aware of the gift…or the giver. He groaned her name and bunched her hair in his fist as he fought for control. When he thought he’d lose the battle, she paused, as if knowing she dare not push him any further.

  “There.” Her voice was soft and rich with satisfaction.

  Gulping for air, he opened his fist and let her hair slide through his fingers as she moved up beside him. He looked into her dark eyes. He’d seen passion many times in a lover’s gaze. He’d seen urgency and need. He’d never seen unconditional love. Until now.

  He could almost hear the crash of barriers coming down as he drank in the emotion like a man dying of thirst. The drive to possess this woman rose in him, making him quiver with the force of it. He needed to be cradled by those soft thighs, to be deep within her loving, giving body.

  Understanding flickered in her eyes and her lips parted slightly, symbolically. A red haze blurred his vision. He’d never wanted a woman this much. Never. He rolled her to her back and moved between her thighs.

  She murmured something, but desire had deafened him to everything but satisfying this incredible need for her. For Gwen. For her warm body, her heat, her moist, silken sheath to enfold him. He prepared to thrust deep.

  “Travis!” she whispered hoarsely, pushing at his chest. “Wait.”

  And only then did he realize what he’d been about to do.

  Muttering a soft oath, he drew back. “Gwen, I’m sorry.” He leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  Her v
oice was low and heavy with desire. “Don’t you?”

  He lifted his head to look into her eyes. He could drown in those deep brown eyes. And he wanted to sink into her, now, without any barriers between them. He must be going crazy. “What…do you mean?”

  “You want a baby.”

  “No.” He ran from the truth as fast as he could go. “I want you. And I lost control.”

  She gazed at him with those knowing, passion-filled eyes.

  He took a shaky breath. “But I’m back in control.”

  “Are you?”

  She was getting way too close to his secrets, he decided. Time to distract her, and with luck, himself. “Oh, yes. Back in control.” He leaned down and placed a kiss in the hollow of her throat. He’d been meaning to make this journey, anyway. Now was the time.

  Easing farther down on the bed, he scooped the weight of her breast into his cupped hand and flicked his tongue over her nipple. Ah, heaven. When he drew her into his mouth, her whimper of delight told him she might not object to a little of the attention she’d lavished on him.

  Loving her was sweet torture. Every inch of her skin begged to be explored, to be licked and nuzzled and kissed. Again, and yet again. But every new exploration ratcheted his own tension up another notch.

  Still, it was only fair that he should steal her sanity the way she’d stolen his, and he loved knowing he was doing that. Her quivering sighs became sharp gasps, and when at last he parted her thighs to taste her womanhood, she whispered his name and trembled uncontrollably in his arms. And he knew that he’d been granted a privilege, being allowed to touch her this way.

  Only the luckiest man in the world would be allowed to bestow this intimate, erotic kiss and listen to her soft moans as he moved his tongue in a gentle, insistent rhythm. He was that man. And he wanted…yes, he wanted to be that man forever. And he could not be.

  Frustration poured through his mind like lava, bringing greater urgency to his caress. He’d meant to excite, to tease, to stop short of taking her over the edge. Now he didn’t want to stop. He needed her to surrender everything now, when she was most vulnerable, most open to the caress of his lips and tongue, as if that would seal some sort of pact.