A Cowboy Christmas Miracle (Burnt Boot, Texas Book 4)
Page 17
“My turn,” she whispered as she undid his belt and unzipped his jeans, releasing the throbbing erection into her cold hands.
His sudden intake of breath put a smile on her face. “Lord, that feels good.”
She jerked his jeans down and removed them without leaving his lap or his lips for more than thirty seconds at a time. That niggling voice in her head tried to talk her out of going down the path she was headed for, but she listened to her heart instead as she stood up and led him to the king-size bed, flipped the covers back, and invited him in with a tug of the hand.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “We can stop right now and not go another step.”
“More than anything in a long time.”
He drew her close, his arm around her shoulders, the kisses resuming as his hands massaged her back. “I feel like a little kid on Christmas morning.”
“Presents are unwrapped,” she said. “It’s time to play with the toys.” She rolled over on top of him, and in one swift movement, he was inside her.
He put both hands on her waist, and in another roll, he was on top, and together they started a rhythm that went from slow to fast, until they were both panting so hard they could scarcely breathe. Then, he slowed the pace until she groaned and dug her nails into his back.
She’d always been in control when it came to sex, but that night she lost it all, letting him take the lead, letting him decide when they’d fall off the ledge of the mountain they’d been climbing for the past hour or more. It was a new experience, one that created a heady feeling that she couldn’t get enough of.
“Now?” he whispered.
She was speechless and could barely nod. The tempo picked up, and the buzz in her ears was so loud, she thought they would explode. This was more than a romp in the sheets. It was more than sex. Declan had made love to her, and already she could feel the afterglow setting in when he growled her name and collapsed on top of her.
“My God,” he groaned as he moved to one side, pulling her into his embrace.
She rested her head on his shoulder and tried desperately to get enough air in her lungs to utter even a simple sentence. She’d just had amazing, mind-boggling sex with Declan Brennan, and the hotel was still standing. Snow still fell outside, and the world had not come to a complete end. Hell, the moon wasn’t even dripping blood, and somewhere out there, the sun was shining on some part of the world.
“Intense.” She finally got out one word.
“It was bound to be.”
He didn’t need to explain. She understood. A hundred years of desire between two feuding families had been satisfied that night. She could feel those ancestors who hated the feud applauding her even though the sensible side—called her conscience—reminded her of what Naomi Gallagher would do if she had an inkling of what had just happened.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
He propped up on an elbow. “You are amazing.”
“Because I’m hungry?”
He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “No, because you are you. Now tell me, sweet darlin’, what are you hungry for?”
“Food first and then another round of whatever we just did to see if it was a fluke or if it was really that good.”
“Will you starve if we take another five minutes to enjoy this nice fuzzy feeling? This is something new to me.”
“Never had afterglow before?” she asked.
“Is that what this is? It’s wonderful. Have you had it before?”
She shook her head, being honest. “I thought it was something that romance writers cooked up to make everyone think they’d found the gold at the end of the rainbow.”
He toyed with her hair, his touch already starting another fire. Or was it the embers of the afterglow that made it so easy to get heated up again?
“I feel like I slid down the rainbow and landed in the pot of gold,” he whispered.
“That’s a pretty good line, Declan.”
“It’s not a line, darlin’. It’s the pure gospel truth.”
“Speaking of that, I don’t guess either of us will be in church tomorrow. I wonder if anyone will put two and two together.”
Declan shook his head. “Not in a million years. I’m snowed in because I came down here to pick up a tractor part for my dad and the tractor place was closed due to weather. What are you doing here?”
“I’m visiting my college friend Iris.”
“Is she in this hotel?”
Betsy giggled. “She’s in this room with us.”
Declan’s eyes widened. “Tell me you are kidding and she’s not in the bathroom.”
“She is my imaginary friend. She gets me out of dinners I don’t want to attend, family arguments, and, this morning, the imaginary cat she gave me got me out of a tight spot at the church when I went looking for a note.” She went on to explain what had happened.
“God bless Iris. I don’t even mind that she’s sitting on the sofa watching television while we tear up the bed.” He laughed and then whispered seductively as he kissed the soft spot under her earlobe, “But you are so much prettier and sexier than Iris. She’s just not my type at all.”
Chapter 16
Declan opened one eye and could see that it was still snowing. He pulled the covers over his head and wished he were in Florida or somewhere warm and sunny instead of north Texas, getting ready to feed cows in deep snow. The aroma of bacon, coffee, and maple syrup blended together to make his stomach growl, and suddenly, he remembered that he was not on River Bend but in a hotel room with Betsy.
“Good mornin’, sleepyhead.” Her hand started at his neck, skimmed its way down his back, and squeezed his butt cheek. “Wake up. I’ve been down to the dining room and brought breakfast up to share with you. Pancakes and bacon with an omelet on the side and lots of coffee.”
He reached behind his back and laced her fingers in his, rolled over, and brought them to his lips to kiss each one individually. “And you for dessert?”
She bent forward and kissed him on the forehead. “If you eat all your breakfast, you can have whatever dessert you want. After last night, you need strength.”
The jeans she must’ve worn down to the dining room had been thrown at the sofa and missed. His shirt from the night before was all she wore as she sat there beside him, cross-legged, with a food tray on the foot of the bed. With no makeup, sleep still in her gorgeous green eyes, and her body a row of pearl snaps away, she absolutely rendered him speechless.
“I can’t have dessert first?” he asked.
“Not after I got dressed and went out for breakfast. Sit up, cowboy, and let’s eat.” She untangled her hand from his, scooted back far enough to put the tray between them, and poured syrup on the warm pancakes.
He sat up, picked up her hand, dipped her fingertips in the syrup, and then proceeded to lick every drop from each one. Her eyes had gone all soft and dreamy by the time he finished the last fingertip. He leaned across the tray and kissed her, soft at first, then deepening into something lingering and more demanding.
“Mmmm!” she mumbled when he straightened up and picked up the plastic fork.
“The pancakes won’t taste nearly as good as your fingers,” he said.
She dipped her fingertip in syrup and applied it to his full mouth like lipstick, then began to lick it off one micro section at a time. His pulse quickened. His heart raced. He had to hold his hands tightly on top of the folded-back covers to keep from throwing her on the bed, kicking the breakfast onto the floor, and having wild, hot sex with her right there, right then.
“You are killing me,” he said.
“What’s good for the goose…as they say.” She smiled. “Let’s eat before it gets so cold we have to heat it in the microwave.”
He shoveled a forkful of omelet into his mouth and nodded. “Good,” he mumbled.
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Is that clock right? I haven’t slept this late in years. Is it really nine thirty?”
“It is. I woke at nine, jerked on the first clothes I found on the floor, and went down to get us some food so we didn’t have to go out. I wish they had room service here, but about all we can get delivered is pizza, and that’s if the pizza place is open on a day like this,” she said.
“How many times did you wish for enough snow to build a snowman when you were a kid?” he asked.
“Every single winter, but I only remember getting to do that one time. I was about ten,” she said.
“I was twelve, and the snowman wasn’t even as big as me. We got about two inches, and by the time Quaid, Leah, Honey, and I got our snowman finished, the yard was completely cleaned of every single flake.”
* * *
An instant visual of Declan at twelve popped into Betsy’s head. He had been all legs back then. Sandy-blond hair and big, blue eyes, skinny as a newborn colt, and it took a couple more years for him to grow into his long legs. It was strange to think of the Brennan kids over there on River Bend doing and feeling the same things that the Gallagher children did on Wild Horse.
“Have I told you this morning that you are gorgeous?” he asked.
“No, but I believe you covered that topic quite well last night. Iris was very impressed with you,” Betsy said.
He looked around the room. “Where is she this morning?”
“She had to go back to Dallas. They’ve got Interstate 35 cleared to the south. The bridge is closed to get across the Red River into Oklahoma because of the ice, but they’re hoping to have it scraped and ready for travel by noon. But the weatherman is still issuing a severe weather alert and telling folks to stay off the roads.”
One of his sexy eyelids slid down in a slow wink. “Isn’t that too bad? Any idea when they might have the country road up to Burnt Boot open for traffic?”
“They’re saying tomorrow. I went ahead and booked this room for tonight. I’m so sorry we are missing church this beautiful Sunday morning.”
“It is a total shame. I’d looked forward to hearing John preach.”
A soft, little-girl giggle escaped from around a bite of pancakes. “You are telling lies right here on Sunday.”
“So are you. We’re both sinners. But on a different note, I doubt that they have church this morning. No one will be able to get out to services.”
“And that makes me wonder if Preacher John will be having dinner at Wild Horse with his sister or River Bend with Honey. Maybe I should call home and get the lowdown on what is happening with the love war.”
The words had barely left her mouth when her phone rang. She leaned over the bed, not caring that Declan got a flash of her naked butt, and grabbed it from the nightstand.
“Where are you?” her mother asked.
“Holed up in the Hampton Inn waiting for the spring thaw,” she teased.
“Well, don’t try to come home today. The roads are a mess and there’re road blocks up. We didn’t even have church. I can’t believe we’re getting hit like this two years in a row. Maybe Naomi is right. Those O’Donnell cousins brought bad luck to Burnt Boot.” Willa laughed. “Is Iris there with you?”
“She went back to Dallas. Roads south of here have been cleared for travel,” Betsy answered. “I heard that Preacher John had a date with Honey Brennan last night.” She looked across the bed to see Declan grinning like a possum eating grapes through a barbed-wire fence.
“Whole town is talking about it. They’re calling it the love war. Your grandmother threatened to throw him out in the snow when he went over to River Bend last night for supper. She’s livid because if Honey gets serious about him, then there would be a hairline connection between the two feuding families, what with him being kin to a Gallagher. Mavis is delighted that she’s getting under Naomi’s skin and possibly dragging a preacher back into the Brennan family. All over a preacher, mind you. And the love war? It doesn’t carry the pizzazz that the pig war and the shit war did, does it?”
Betsy gave Declan a thumbs-up and mouthed, Love war, it is.
He put up his palm, and they did a silent high five.
“Are you still there?” Willa asked.
“I’m here. So what’s your opinion of this whole love-war thing between Honey and Angela’s brother?”
“I figure Naomi will rethink Angela and Jody living in the big house if Angela’s brother gets mixed up with Honey Brennan—and that Mavis will put more than one feather in her hat if she can make trouble on Wild Horse. What are you doing all day?”
The question caught Betsy off guard so much that she stammered, “Ummm, well, it’s snowing, and I guess…I suppose I’ll watch some reruns on TV and maybe go outside and make a snowman.”
“Sounds like a boring day. Call if you want to pass the time.”
“Thanks, Mama. Maybe they’ll have things cleared off so”—she caught herself before she said we, cleared her throat, and went on—“so I can get home tomorrow.”
“I hope so, but drive safely. Talk to you later.”
Betsy pushed a button and the face of her phone went dark. “They’re calling it the love war already.”
One side of Declan’s mouth turned up in half a grin that was even sexier than a brilliant smile. “The love war. Granny is going to hate that as much as she did the pig war, but she’ll be rootin’ for Honey. She’s always wanted a preacher, and if it can make Naomi Gallagher mad, then she’ll be one happy old gal.” Declan held a piece of crisp bacon near her lips.
She bit off the end. “And Angela might find herself living back in the little house before long if Honey takes a shine to John. I think the ‘love war’ fits this feudin’ battle very well, but right now, I’m thinkin’ it’s time for dessert.”
Declan set the tray on the floor beside the bed. His hand was a blur as it grabbed the tail of the shirt she wore and every snap came undone with a popping noise. “I do like pearl snaps, and I really like what’s under them.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and slid under the covers with him, both of them stretching out so she was pressed against his side, his arm around her, their noses just inches apart.
“I also love your kisses,” he said as his lips found hers and his tongue traced the outline of her lips. That gesture started the hormones to boiling immediately.
“I like your whole body and what it does to mine.” Her hand followed his hair from his chest all the way down to find that he was definitely ready for dessert.
He rolled her over onto her back and kissed her until they were both breathless. “Ready?”
“Been ready since I woke you up.” She wrapped her legs firmly around him and tangled her fingers in his thick hair.
With a firm thrust, he started a gentle motion that made her moan for more and more, which he gave her right up until she whispered his name hoarsely and together they satisfied the fire inside their bodies.
“If it keeps getting better every time, we’re going to burn ourselves into nothing but ashes,” he muttered between gasps.
“But what a way to go.” She wiggled out from under him.
He rolled to his back, and she settled in next to his side, sated and yet wanting more. She’d never felt like this before, but then she’d never spent the entire night with a man before, never had breakfast in bed with him, and for damn sure never looked forward to another bout of hot sex after having it three—no, four times since they started they night before. Usually once or twice and she was ready to go home and forget the guy, no matter how handsome he was. She had managed one six-month relationship back when she wa
s twenty-one and still in college. And another one that lasted three months when she was about twenty-five.
And this one won’t last a day past Christmas, no matter how good you are in bed with him or how much chemistry there is between you.
“Shhh,” she said.
“I didn’t say anything,” Declan said.
“I know.”
“Voices in your head? I’m doing the same thing. They’re telling me that we’re going down a fool’s path and that this can never develop into a relationship. Is that what you’re hearing?”
She nodded and bit back the tears threatening to escape from behind her thick lashes.
“Are you going to listen to them?”
“Not today,” she said.
“Good. Let’s go take a shower, get dressed, and go outside in that big, empty parking lot behind the outlet mall and make a snowman. This may be the only opportunity we ever have to make one together.”
She rose up on an elbow, her breasts brushing against his side. “So you don’t think we have a chance at anything more than an occasional secret rendezvous?”
“No, I don’t think that we’ll ever see this much snow again in our area of the world. We’ll have to see if the other thing is strong enough to withstand the big rocks that will be thrown at it,” he said.
He crawled out of bed, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her to the bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the tub, went back into the room, and touched a few buttons on his phone.
Mark Chesnutt started singing “Ol’ Country,” and Declan came back and extended his hand. Together, they swayed to the music, doing a two-step around the bathroom floor wearing nothing but smiles.
The lyrics said that the city sun went down at night and the country boy was lookin’ at the moon. It talked about a city girl and a country boy, but she got the gist of the story. The girl and the boy in the story were as mismatched as she and Declan. When Mark sang about the fact that she’d never been loved at all until ol’ country came to town, Betsy leaned back and looked up into his blue eyes and read his mind.