Cowboy Up

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Cowboy Up Page 10

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  “You know, maybe I should just come downstairs and unlock the front door for you.”

  “It’s not a good idea. The stairs creak quite a bit, and there’s always the chance Sarah will hear that, or hear the front door open. She’s a parent, and according to her, parents’ ears are tuned for that kind of thing. Plus I’d have to leave the same way, and all that running up and down creaky stairs will get us caught for sure.”

  Emily sighed and started working on the latches holding the screen. “If you say so, but this doesn’t seem like the brightest idea in the world, either. This screen is kind of awkward, and I… whoops! Watch out!”

  Clay dodged out of the way as the screen came down. Fortunately for anyone below, the frame was made of lightweight aluminum and couldn’t do much damage. Unfortunately for the screen, that same aluminum crumpled like paper on impact.

  Emily leaned out the window. “You okay?”

  “Yep.” He picked up the screen. “This thing’s a little bent, though.” He was thinking more like totaled, but he didn’t tell her that.

  “Oh, great. You’d better leave while you can. That screen coming down is sure to alert somebody.”

  “Maybe not. I’ll step into the shadows.”

  “What about the screen?”

  “I’ll take it with me. We’ll figure out some way to explain this if we have to.” He was too close to victory to worry about how he’d replace the screen without anybody knowing about it. He stashed the screen behind a bush growing close to the house. Then he counted to one hundred while he waited to see if either Sarah or Mary Lou would sound the alarm.

  All quiet. All quiet, anyway, except for the intense pounding of his heart. He moved back to the window. “Let down the ladder.”

  A few thumping sounds indicated she was hooking it to the windowsill. Then the rope ladder tumbled down in a beautiful cascade. He looked upon it as his personal stairway to heaven.

  She leaned out of the window again. “You’d better go slow and test this thing. It looks as if it’s been sitting in that closet for years.”

  “I’m sure. It almost qualifies as an heirloom. I’m surprised Nick hasn’t had it bronzed.” He took her advice and balanced on the bottom rung to make sure nothing would give way. The ladder held. “I’m coming up.”

  “There’s something Medieval about this, like you should have a sword.”

  He glanced up. “Sorry. Left my sword at home.”

  “But I noticed you wore your hat.” She sounded amused.

  “I feel naked without it.”

  “Really?”

  “Not exactly, but I am used to it. I… damn.” As if talking about the hat had been a jinx, a sudden breeze lifted it right off his head. It dropped to the ground, the very ground where he hadn’t wanted to leave it.

  “Oh, dear.” She sighed dramatically. “Now you’re naked.”

  He had a difficult choice. He could go back for the hat and look like a dork who was more concerned about his hat than a rendezvous with a hot woman, or he could leave it and hope a raccoon didn’t carry it off. He left the hat.

  Another few seconds of climbing, and he pulled himself through the window. It wasn’t a graceful entrance, but at least he was now in her bedroom where there was, conveniently, a bed.

  She’d backed away from the window to give him room to climb in and stand upright. Once he did that, he felt more in control of the situation. He pulled the ladder back inside and closed the window.

  “That means no breeze,” she said.

  “And no bats.”

  “Bats?” She put a hand to her chest. “We could have bats in here?”

  “You go around leaving windows open with no screens, and you sure could. They’re harmless, but there’s no point in having one accidentally fly in and scare itself to death.”

  “Not to mention freaking me out.”

  “I’d protect you. Besides, like I said, they’re not a threat to you.”

  “Sorry. I grew up in suburbia. Between a bull moose charging me and potential bats in my bedroom, I’m experiencing a little too much Wild Kingdom for comfort.”

  “And that’s not even counting the human animal who climbed in your window.”

  “Exactly.” She stood in the shadowed room, her arms crossed over her chest. Besides the tank top, she was wearing boxers in what looked like a plaid design. The combination was somehow sexier to him than a black negligee would have been. Or maybe it was just because Emily was wearing them.

  “Actually, I was more worried about the noise than the bats,” he said, hoping to calm her fears a little.

  “You’re assuming there will be noise. I made it clear that allowing you to climb the ladder doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to have sex with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not good at this cloak and dagger stuff. When I was walking down the hall to dinner with my dad, Sarah, and Pam, I opened my big mouth and asked if you’d be coming to dinner, too.”

  He could see how that might have attracted some attention, but maybe it wasn’t so bad. “That’s natural enough. You’re not expected to remember who eats where.”

  “No, but I could have asked if any of the hands were joining us for dinner. Instead I specifically asked about you, and my dad picked up on it.”

  A whisper of unease distracted him slightly from his single-minded need to take her to bed. “What did he say?”

  “That he hoped I wasn’t becoming interested in you because we’re from two different worlds, and besides, you had a rough time as a kid. I told him I was not interested in you, which is, of course, a lie. I think he knew it was a lie, too.”

  Clay ignored the warning bells in his head. “So tomorrow we’ll behave like polite strangers.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a lot easier if we behave that way now, and you go back down the ladder?”

  He propped his hands on his hips and gazed at her in the semi-darkness. He couldn’t see her all that well, but he could hear her breathing, and she wasn’t as calm as she’d like him to think. “Is that seriously what you want me to do? Leave?”

  “It would make our lives a lot simpler tomorrow.”

  “Would it, really? I’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  She chuckled. “I’m sure you have.”

  “Oh, and you haven’t?”

  “Yeah, I have, too. I haven’t come up with any answers, either. It’s a touchy situation, but I keep thinking if we can keep a lid on it for another twenty-four hours, then—”

  “I don’t know about you, but I see this like a pressure-cooker. If I go back down that ladder right now, the steam builds up and by tomorrow night we might both be ready to blow.”

  “That’s one way to look at it.”

  If he judged only from her tone of voice, he might believe she was looking at the problem rationally. But there was a breathless undercurrent to her words that told him she might be nearing the breaking point, too.

  He decided to press his advantage. “On the other hand, if we let off some of that steam tonight, then we might be able to hang around each other without the same level of tension.”

  “That’s another way to look at it.” Her voice quivered ever so slightly.

  “Which way do you want to look at it, Emily?”

  She cleared her throat. “Did you by chance bring condoms?”

  “Two.”

  “Then maybe we should use them.”

  It took him only a split second to close the distance between them and sweep her up in his arms.

  Chapter Ten

  Emily had known from the moment she’d looked out the window to discover Clay standing there that it would end up this way, with both of them naked in her bed. She hadn’t known about the ladder or the logistics, but he’d been the image of determined male with his legs braced and his shoulders back — a man on a mission.

  She wasn’t convinced that his theory of a pressure-cooker made sense, but he was the college graduate and she wasn’
t. Besides, his theory meant that she was flat on her back, writhing against the sheets while he kissed every available inch of her. That couldn’t be all bad, could it?

  “I wish I could turn on the light, but the curtains aren’t heavy enough,” he murmured as he brushed his mouth over the very top of her nipple. “Can’t attract attention.”

  “Why do you want the light?” She was proud of herself for managing a complete sentence while he was driving her slowly insane.

  “To see your face.”

  “My face?” She gulped for air as he used his lips and tongue to devastating effect. “What about my naked body?”

  “That, too.” He traced a path down the valley between her ribs. “But I love how your eyes widen and your pupils get huge when you’re excited.”

  She didn’t want to make this too easy. “What makes you think I’m excited?”

  “Do you usually wiggle around like this?” He dipped his tongue into her navel.

  She arched up off the mattress. “All the time. I have an itch.”

  “Then let me scratch it.” And in one swooping motion, he tucked his head between her thighs, slid both hands under her bottom, and zeroed in.

  She nearly lost what was left of her mind. She wasn’t a stranger to this maneuver, but she had to admit Clay’s technique topped every experience she’d ever had. For the next several minutes, he owned that territory. If he hadn’t thrown her a pillow to muffle her cries, she would have brought the house down as he made her come in a spectacular fashion, and then repeated the fireworks display moments later.

  Limp and covered in a sheen of sweat, she was vaguely aware of a condom packet being ripped open, and then he slid into her, smooth and easy, his way paved with two delicious orgasms. He felt so good there that she summoned the energy to rise and meet his second thrust.

  An electric impulse rocketed through her at that firm contact, and she knew she wasn’t finished yet. Her pelvic muscles tightened without her consciously willing it, and he groaned in response.

  She’d recovered enough to remember they had to be quiet. “Shh,” she whispered. “Shh.”

  He pumped again. “But it’s so good, Emily. So damned good.”

  “I know, but we can’t make noise.” Wrapping her legs around him, she held on and gloried in the way he filled her to the brim. “Kiss me. That will absorb most of the sound.”

  He covered her mouth with his and began to thrust, long and slow at first, and then faster. She muffled his low, urgent moans and held him close, but not so close that he couldn’t move. She needed the urgent rhythm as much as he did, wanted to come… once more… just once… more.

  With one mighty push, he buried himself deep, his muted cries joining hers as she lifted her hips and shivered in a glorious explosion of pleasure. He shuddered in her arms as the rapid pulsing of his cock teased her womb. She’d never been this susceptible to a man’s virility and power. Must be the cowboy in him.

  At last he eased his mouth from hers. “Perfect,” he murmured. He rocked his hips forward, bringing them even closer together. “Perfect.”

  “Yes.” In the darkness she held him tight and wished this moment never had to end.

  Clay wasn’t sure how much time passed before he roused himself to go across the hall to the bathroom and dispose of the first condom. Yes, he’d brought two, but that didn’t mean he had to use both of them. In consideration of his beautiful bedmate, he should probably leave the way he’d arrived and let her rest for whatever hours remained of the night.

  Feeling extremely chivalrous, he returned to the room and wondered what the hell he’d done with his clothes. Once she’d agreed to take him into her bed, he’d thrown them every which way, although he’d kept track of the jeans pocket with the all-important condoms. Now, however, he was having a little trouble locating a few key items, such as his briefs and his shirt.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  He glanced toward the bed and could dimly see her propped up on her elbow, gazing at him. “I thought maybe you’d want to sleep.”

  “You climbed a rope ladder and risked your reputation to make this all happen. Why worry about a silly thing like sleep?”

  He abandoned the search for his briefs and walked toward the bed. “I’m not worried about me, but you must be exhausted.”

  “I’m feeling very, very mellow.” She held out a hand to him. “But that’s different from being exhausted. Besides, I’ve never had the pleasure of a totally naked Clay Whitaker. I can’t see you without turning on a light, but I can use the Braille method. Come down here so I can explore.”

  Only a stupid man would refuse an invitation like that, and Clay had taken an IQ test that verified he wasn’t stupid. He stretched out on his side next to her. “I’m just your standard issue male.”

  “I can testify that’s not true.” She reached down and took hold of his very happy johnson. “Exhibit A. This particular item is way above average.”

  He didn’t care to know how she was able to judge that. Funny how quickly possessiveness could set in, even when he knew she wouldn’t ever commit to him.

  “And when you consider the whole package, then you’re a bargain at any price.” Sliding her hand under his balls, she balanced each one in her palm. “There’s nothing standard about you, Whitaker. Everything is supersized.”

  He loved having her hands on him, but he pretended to take her fondling in stride. “I don’t know that it matters all that much.”

  “It matters.” She traced a line up the underside of his penis, which was beginning to show interest in resuming the program. “The added value here increases the friction for me, which is all kinds of good. And these—” She caressed his balls again. “I could feel them brush my skin with each thrust. That’s the kind of experience a girl remembers.”

  “Good to know.” Yes, he was definitely going to use that second condom. “Now it’s my turn.” He ran his knuckles across her breasts. “Kissing you here and having you arch up because you want my mouth all over you is almost enough to make me come.”

  “That’s nice.” Her low, sexy voice egged him on.

  “And you taste good, too.”

  “Spearmint toothpaste.”

  “I meant here.” He slid his hand between her thighs and stroked up and in, his fingers creating the sweet music of sex as he moved them slowly back and forth.

  She moaned. “That feels…”

  “Nice?” He rotated his thumb lightly over her clit.

  “More than nice.” Her breath caught. “I’ve never been so…”

  “Neither have I.” So soon, and he was hard again, throbbing with the need to have her.

  “Should we…” She whimpered softly.

  He found her G-spot with his middle finger and smiled as she began to pant. “Should we what, Emily?”

  “Worry.”

  “Not now. Right now I’m going to kiss you so you can yell if you want.” He angled his mouth over hers and concentrated on that G-spot until she came so lustily that he wondered if she’d bite his tongue in her frenzy. But she didn’t. He eased his hand free and caressed her slick thighs. “That was fun.”

  “Uh-huh.” Gasping, she flopped back on the bed. “I mean it, Clay.” She gulped for air. “I’m not usually like this.”

  “I’m not, either.”

  “From the moment I saw you today with that canister of semen on your shoulder, I wanted to jump you.”

  He started to laugh and turned his head into the pillow to mute it.

  “I suppose that does sound funny, but honest-to-God, you looked so manly.”

  He cleared his throat. “I never thought of semen collection as a way to get girls.”

  “I’m sure it’s not that. Well, maybe it added to the mystique since you’d just been involved in something sexual and you had the evidence to prove it.”

  “If all that’s true, what’s my excuse? Why have I been in a constant state of semi-arousal ever since I saw you this
morning?” He was in a state of full arousal now, but he could wait.

  Once he used the second condom he’d have no reason to stay and risk being discovered here in the morning. And lying in the dark talking was nice. Although sex was never far from his mind when he was with Emily, he just liked being here, sharing the same space.

  “You tell me,” she said. “I’ve had boyfriends before, obviously, but I can’t imagine any of them climbing a rope ladder in the middle of the night just to have sex with me.”

  “This is going to sound dorky as hell, but I think it’s the long buildup.”

  “What buildup? We just saw each other this morning.”

  “Yeah, but apparently I’ve wanted you for ten years.”

  “Wow. No wonder you’ve been talking about pressure cookers. That’s a long time to have a boner.”

  Once again he had to turn his face into the pillow to keep from hooting out loud. “Okay,” he said once he could speak again. “It wasn’t that bad. It’s not like I’ve thought of you constantly for ten years. That would be pathetic.”

  “And crazy. I wasn’t that memorable.”

  “Oh, you were damned memorable in your short shorts and low-cut blouses. You may not remember me, but I sure as hell remember you. I flirted with you like crazy.”

  She was quiet for several seconds. “I sort of remember, and I’ll bet I wasn’t very nice to you, either. I’d hoped you’d forgotten.”

  “Nope. But all this sex has taken the sting completely out of it.”

  “I apologize for being such a jerk back then, Clay. It only shows how stupid I was at that age. What horrible things did I say, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “You told me in no uncertain terms that cowboys weren’t your type.”

  She rolled to her side, facing him. “Those were my mother’s words and I was dumb enough to parrot them without thinking whether it was true for me. I’m so, so sorry for being mean and rude.”

  “But cowboys really aren’t your type,” he said softly. He’d do well to remember that simple fact.

 

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