Cowboy Redeemed

by Parker Kincade

Clay set down his fork and reached for her. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on each of her knuckles. Once done, he didn’t release her. “How is that possible?”

  She stared at their joined hands resting on the table between them, his much larger one cradling hers. “Honestly? I have no idea. I suppose because I never took the time to look. I was too busy surviving to spend time searching for people who, I believed, hadn’t wanted me to begin with.”

  “I asked the wrong question. Nelson must’ve known about you to leave you this place. He didn’t try to contact you?”

  His thumb brushed across the back of her hand, sending shivers up her arm and through her breasts. She swore she felt them swell as her nipples tightened.

  He made it difficult to concentrate on anything but his touch. “No. He had an attorney who’d been secretly keeping track of me, which pissed me off and creeped me out at the same time. A few days after Lawrence … or did he go by Larry?”

  “Most folks called him Nelson.”

  Not a hint of fondness to be heard in Clay’s voice.

  Right after she’d arrived, Ainsley overheard the crew discussing what an asshole her uncle had been. It seemed the men hadn’t been talking smack as she’d assumed.

  “I guess not a lot of people liked him.”

  “He wasn’t known for his friendliness. But I won’t speak badly about a man who isn’t around to defend himself. To be honest, I didn’t know him all that well. I’d heard he didn’t have any family.”

  “According to the attorney, my mother’s sister was married to Nelson, making him my uncle by marriage. The story goes: my parents were killed when I was a toddler. By the time my aunt learned what had happened, I was already well-buried in the foster system. My mom and aunt weren’t close. Lots of bad blood. Of course, I’m only repeating what I’ve been told, because I don’t have any memory of it, or of them. The attorney said Nelson had no other living relatives. My aunt, either. Apparently, she looked for me until the day she died.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know how the foster system works. Weren’t there records of where you’d been? At the very least, where you lived at the time?” He turned her hand palm up and traced soft, tiny circles across the surface.

  Ainsley didn’t know how much more she could take of his gentle ministrations. “Yeah, that’s the thing about the system. It doesn’t always work. I moved around a lot, until finally I took off on my own.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Not old enough to be alone in the world, that’s for damn sure. And it beat the alternative.”

  The caresses stopped. His gaze sharpened. “Someone hurt you?”

  Clay’s deadly tone caught her off guard. She rushed to reassure him. “Bumps and bruises mainly. Nothing time and a little peroxide didn’t heal. Trust me when I say, it could’ve been worse.” She cleared her throat, not wanting to drag the ugly parts of her past into their dinner. “This isn’t the greatest conversation for a first date.”

  Oops.

  A sly smile tugged at his lips. “Date, huh?” He stared at their hands as he brought them palm-to-palm and laced their fingers together.

  Her breath caught. “Let’s just say I wasn’t easy to find.”

  “And now you’re here.”

  “And now I’m here.”

  Clay stood and pulled her to her feet. “Thank you, Ainsley. For sharing your story with me and for the best spaghetti I’ve ever had.” He placed a soft, almost chaste kiss, on her lips. “But now you need to come with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  His molten expression melted her insides. “We’ve waited long enough. And I’m ready for dessert.”

  Thank God.

  ***

  It had taken every ounce of his self-restraint to keep his hands to himself during dinner. Once he tugged her into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them, all bets were off.

  Clay kept her hand in his as they scaled the stairs at a pace much slower than the breakneck speed his body demanded.

  The loneliness in her voice had torn his chest wide open. Children should be loved and cared for—not cast aside or lost in the goddamn system. What kind of shit was that? The fact she’d been mistreated, her beautiful skin marred… If Nelson were alive today, Clay would kick his ass up one side and down the other. The old bastard had found Ainsley, had kept tabs on her. He’d left Ainsley alone on purpose.

  Clay stopped climbing and took a breath, willing his temper to recede. She’d known darkness and pain. He couldn’t change her memories, but he could damn well give her better ones. He’d show her how she deserved to be treated—her body revered for the pleasure she’d give him, the woman cherished for the strong, independent person she’d become. Every fucking inch of her was his tonight, and he wouldn’t stop until she was hoarse from screaming his name.

  “Clay?”

  He turned and looked down at her. God, she was beautiful. Desire darkened her eyes. Her full lips glistened, begging for his kiss.

  Ainsley let out a shriek as he tugged her to the landing, scooped her into his arms, and carried her the rest of the way.

  She met him halfway as he took her mouth, their tongues meeting in a fierce duel for control. Her greedy hands dove into his hair, sending a sharp surge of sensation across his scalp. Feisty little wildcat. How far would she go to get what she wanted?

  He couldn’t wait to find out.

  Clay made it to the bed. He released her legs. Her outer thigh brushed his hard length and they both groaned at the contact.

  “Let’s get these clothes off, Ains. I’m dying to get my mouth on you.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked at him, her long lashes blinking innocently. The sexy mix of sweet and sassy was hot as hell.

  “You just had your mouth on me.”

  “It’s not your lips I want my tongue on.” Clay lifted the hem of her shirt. She let him go to raise her arms. He peeled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her breasts swelled above the plain, black cups of her bra, rising and falling with her quickening breaths.

  “My neck then?” She tilted her head, tracing a finger from her ear to her collarbone.

  Clay slipped his fingers underneath the straps of her bra. He leaned in, his lips following the path she’d drawn. He eased the straps from her shoulders.

  “Getting warmer.” He left a trail of wet kisses to where her bra strap had been. He reached for the clasp.

  Her shoulders rolled back and the little minx traced above the swell of each breast. “Here?”

  His dick pulsed as he opened the clasp. Her bra fell away, revealing her gorgeous tits, creamy and rose-tipped.

  “Getting warmer.” He brushed the backs of his fingers along her collarbones, but his gaze rested firmly on her breasts. She shivered. Her skin erupted with tiny bumps and her nipples shrank to tight points. “So pretty,” he murmured.

  Christ. She was fucking perfect.

  “On the bed.” He barely recognized the guttural sound of his voice. Ainsley trembled as he urged her back. She scooted to the center and rested back on her elbows, her legs stretched out in front of her.

  Clay jerked his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His dick was killing him, but he wasn’t ready to shed his jeans yet. The minute she touched his naked cock, he’d lose his fucking mind. Hell, he was halfway there.

  He loosened his belt. Her eyelids flared as the leather whispered from the loops and dropped to the floor with a thud. He angled forward, braced his hands on either side of her, and kissed the inside of her ankle.

  “Spread your legs for me.” He kissed higher, nudging her to open as he moved.

  “Clay.” She squirmed. The muscles in her stomach tightened as she complied.

  He crawled up her legs, placing tiny nips and kisses along the way. “Your skin is so soft.” She gasped as he rubbed his cheek against the inside of her thigh. “Time to let me see the rest of you.”

 
“That’s not fair. You left your jeans on. I want to see you, too.”

  He knelt between her knees and reached for the button on her shorts. “You’ll do more than see me, sweetheart. Trust me. Lift up.”

  Ainsley lifted her hips, and Clay finished the job of getting her naked. The glistening lips of her pussy were his reward for the torturous speed he’d taken to get there. And he wasn’t done yet. Not even close.

  “Don’t just stand there. Do something.”

  Clay stretched out beside her, his hand splayed over her abdomen. “Something like this?” His mouth surrounded her nipple. He swirled his tongue around the puckered bud, then flicked back and forth across the sensitive tip.

  Ainsley gasped and arched her back, pressing her breast more firmly against his mouth. A fact he took complete advantage of by sucking her deep into his mouth.

  His hand moved lower. Her stomach contracted and he smiled against her breast. She’d be wetter when he got where he was headed, her pussy swollen and ready. He forced himself to go slow, to continue to build her arousal until she was crazy with need.

  He feathered kisses along the underside of her breast while his finger circled her navel. He circled lower, through the golden curls on her mound. Lower still to the delicate hood protecting her clit. He wanted his mouth there. Wanted to hear her cries of pleasure while he got drunk on her taste. He slid his finger through her wet folds. He stroked over her entrance before sliding back up to circle her sensitive bud.

  Ainsley whimpered and arched into his hand. The scent of her arousal went to his head. Made him crazy to plunge into her. Take her hard. Fast. Now.

  He tore his mouth away from her breast with a growl. His control hung by a thread.

  “No!” Ainsley reached for him as he moved away. “Clay, please. I need you.”

  Later, he’d realize those three words were his undoing.

  He moved between her legs. “This is where I need to be, Ainsley.” He licked through her slit, capturing her juices, coating his throat with the very essence of her. “Right here.”

  And then he feasted.

  No longer concerned with going slow, Clay licked, sucked, nipped until she writhed beneath him. She tasted good. So fucking sweet.

  Addictive.

  He slipped a finger into her slick channel. Then another. He rotated his hand and added a third finger, causing a sexy-as-fuck moan to escape her throat as he stretched her. He latched onto her clit and sucked hard. Her moan turned into a startled cry of pleasure he wanted to hear over and over again.

  Ainsley’s legs shook. The first pulse of her release caused his balls to tighten beyond their already painful state. He curled his fingers inside her, extending her pleasure until her legs went limp.

  “Jesus,” she panted. “I … you … holy shit.”

  He placed a gentle kiss on her mound. “We’re not done.”

  Clay stood and dug out the condom he’d put in his pocket. She raised her head to watch but Clay didn’t have it in him to give her a big show. His control was too far gone.

  He stripped and sheathed his cock, the touch almost painful. He climbed back on the bed. Ainsley welcomed him within the cradle of her legs. He reached down, positioning his cock at her entrance.

  “Hold on to me, Ainsley. I’m not sure I’ll be able to go slow,” he warned. “Not sure I can be as gentle as I’d like.” Or at all.

  Her nails dug into his biceps as she rubbed against him. “I’m not one of your pretty little Barbie dolls. If you’re going to fuck me, I expect you to do it right. Show me you’re as good with your cock as you are with your tongue.”

  Clay cursed. He’d address the Barbie doll comment later. For now … he captured her smart mouth with his and thrust his hips.

  Fuuuck.

  She was so tight he couldn’t breathe. His heart hammered against his ribcage.

  He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers while he gave her time to get used to the penetration.

  “You okay?”

  “The only way I’d be better is if you’d move.”

  A growl escaped his throat as her inner muscles bore down hard. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

  “Then burn me,” she challenged. “Do it now.”

  His. Fucking. Pleasure.

  Clay pinned her to the bed as he started moving. Slow at first, then faster. A pounding rhythm guaranteed to get them both where they needed to go.

  His greedy little wildcat met him stroke for stroke until their bodies were covered in sweat and the scent of sex filled the air.

  Ainsley clawed at his back—trying to get closer, trying to get him to go faster, trying to hold on for the ride—he didn’t know.

  All he knew was the snug heat of her pussy and the promise of bliss he found there.

  His body vibrated, the need to come a raging firestorm through his veins. Ainsley’s scream barely registered as light exploded behind his eyelids. His release shot through him—so powerful, it took his sight, his hearing, and a good portion of his brain function with it.

  Ainsley went soft beneath him. The residual contractions of her orgasm milked his cock.

  Still joined, Clay kissed her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose.

  She opened her eyes. “Now, that’s the kind of ride I’m talking about, cowboy. Perfect ten.”

  “I’m a rancher, Ains. Not a bull rider. That’d be my friend Dakota,” he stupidly added.

  She arched a brow. “Oh yeah? Was he with you last night?”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  She purred. Goddamn purred.

  “Not to worry. One cowboy at a time is all I can handle.” Ainsley’s expression turned his world upside-down. Her eyes shone with lazy satisfaction. Contentment. The loneliness he’d seen before was gone. “Thank you, Clay. I’m glad my stubborn pride didn’t cheat us out of this.”

  Jesus. The woman would be the death of him.

  “Me too, Ains.” He smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. The thought of another man touching her ignited a fire in his gut. “Me, too.”

  Chapter Eight

  Clay strolled into the ranch office. He mumbled a greeting and collapsed onto the couch.

  He had a shit ton of stuff to do today, but he was so fucking tired he could hardly muster up the energy to care. He needed ten minutes of shuteye. A quick power nap before he hit the baler.

  “Running a little late?” Gavin asked from behind the desk where their dad had worked before his retirement. Or “semi-retirement” as Pops called it.

  “Long night.” Clay tossed his hat aside and let his head fall back, his eyes drifting shut of their own accord. Long, pleasurable night. His personal best, in fact. Once Ainsley lowered her defenses, she’d given him a proverbial run for his money. He’d be wearing her marks down his back for the next few days.

  A slow smile spread his lips.

  She’d wear a few of his as well.

  “Did you talk to Ainsley?”

  Clay cracked an eyelid to peer at his brother. “Not yet.” Talk hadn’t been high on his list of priorities last night.

  Gavin’s heavy sigh had Clay lifting his head to glare. “What?”

  “You wanna tell me what’s going on with you?”

  “Other than the fact that I’ve been pulling more than my share of the weight lately and my ass is worn out?”

  “It’s not going to get any better if we add land. If you can’t handle the extra work, you better speak up now.”

  “Fuck off, Gavin.” Clay didn’t even have the energy to put any force behind the words. “You’ve been back for what? Three months? I’ve worked this ranch since the day I learned to keep my ass in a saddle, so don’t try to tell me I can’t fucking handle it.”

  “You’re the one who said you—”

  “I said I was tired. Fact is, I’ll pull whatever weight is needed.” But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t bitch about it. “I’ve never not done my job, so how about you cut me som
e slack.”

  Gavin’s eyes narrowed. Damn if he didn’t look just like Pops in that moment. “That the only reason you’re worn out?”

  So much for his power nap. “You askin’ about my sex life?”

  “So, this is about Ainsley.”

  Like a dog with a fucking bone.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I’m not stupid. Something’s put a burr up your ass. The last two times I’ve mentioned anything to do with her, you’ve gotten pissy. I did the math.”

  Clay hadn’t realized he’d been that transparent. He’d known Ainsley was special from the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the bar. He still didn’t know what it meant, exactly. But after last night, Clay had no doubt he’d see her again—and again—which meant there was no point in hiding his interest in her from his family. They’d find out eventually.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with her,” Clay admitted. “She’s closed off when it comes to the ranch. I get the feeling it’s more than the number of sale offers she’s been getting. The topic makes her uncomfortable, so I know there’s more going on than she’s telling.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Jesus, Gavin. Nelson let that place go to shit. The house is practically falling down around her.”

  “You’ve been over there?”

  “I rebuilt her porch yesterday. The thing was dangerous as hell.”

  Gavin’s brows rose in surprise. “She asked you to do that?”

  Clay laughed, remembering Ainsley’s reaction to finding her porch in shambles. “No. And she wasn’t too happy about me taking it on. She got skittish about the cost of the lumber, but I used the leftover wood from the deck Pax and I built onto the fishing cabin a few years back. I convinced her it wouldn’t cost her anything but dinner.”

  “I’m guessing dinner was good?”

  “Dinner was fantastic. She makes a mean spaghetti. The sauce from scratch I might add, from stuff out of her garden. We ate and talked basics.” Clay wasn’t comfortable sharing Ainsley’s history with his brother, since it wasn’t his story to tell. “You remember Ed Marks?”

  “He’s managed things over there for what? Twenty, twenty-five years now?”

  “Yeah, well, he quit. Ainsley mentioned they didn’t see eye-to-eye on something, but at that point I didn’t feel comfortable pushing her. I get the feeling she knows more than any of us gave her credit for. She hasn’t had it easy. In fact, the night I met her, she was playing pool for cash at Slick’s. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Figured she was just having fun.”