Cowboy-Sexy

by Donna Michaels

  He waited, his mouth hovering above her quivering lips. Desire suddenly chased the indecision from her gaze.

  “Okay.” She leaned forward until their chests brushed. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Navy.”

  Finn didn’t hesitate, he accepted Cammie’s challenge, capturing her opened mouth, drinking and taking all the enticing woman had to offer. And boy did she offer. Her tongue brushed the inside of his lip, touching, teasing until he thought he would explode from his need for more.

  She tasted different, willing. Hot. He cupped the back of her head and deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue deep inside her warm, wet mouth. Gone were the seeds of doubt and with them the last of his restraint. Finn didn’t care if she was a Marine. Didn’t care that she thought he was an idiot where Heather was concerned. Hell, he didn’t care about Heather. He only cared about the fierce need racking his being from head to toe.

  She pushed him back against the boulder and pressed tantalizingly into him. The woman was scorching and demanding, and he liked it. He groaned, besieged by a sudden urge to feel her soft skin. She must’ve read his mind because she drew back and ripped off her shirt, the action garnering a strong reaction deep inside. His groin fisted at the sight of the black lace barely covering her ample bust. He wanted to taste her, all of her.

  She shoved his shirt up over his head, and his heart rocked against his ribs as her tongue followed the path. Need washed through him so ferocious it rivaled any riptide he’d ever faced.

  Finn pulled her mouth back to his, kissing her long and deep. His hands skimmed the sides of her breasts, while his thumbs stroked the soft rounded flesh spilling over the lace. She moaned into his mouth, then left to rein hot kisses down his chest and abdomen.

  Heaven help him, he never wanted to feel anyone’s lips on his skin, to feel anyone’s tongue exploring his flesh as much he did this woman’s. She was driving him mad. When she dropped to her knees and undid his pants, he completely stopped breathing.

  The woman was incredible and bold and…not doing anything.

  He opened his eyes and glanced down. Cammie had her hands on his unzipped pants, but just sat there blinking at his waist.

  She drew in a breath and stumbled to her feet.

  “I’m sorry. I—I can’t do this.”

  She grabbed her shirt off the ground and turned her back to him before slipping it on.

  What? Why?

  He frowned, working through the haze of desire still fogging his brain. What had stopped her delicious assault? He glanced down at his exposed flesh again.

  Barely visible above his boxers was a glimpse of the purple-brown stain of his injury. Pain, violent and sharp, shot through him in a deep, twisting motion. Never had Finn imagined Cammie would be the type of girl to be turned off by his scars. Hell, she’d seen all of them the other day and never batted an eye. He fixed his pants and thrust his arms through his discarded shirt.

  Guess seeing them and touching them are two different things.

  Fury and disgust mixed to form a strong crust around his heart.

  “No problem. We won’t be making this mistake again.”

  She twisted around, confusion and concern clouding her gaze.

  “Finn…”

  “Save it!”

  His closed fist shot up in a military gesture to stop any further words from coming out of her damn mouth. “Let’s go back. I have work to do.”

  He grabbed his gear and started down the mountain in a sprint. She called after him several times, but he ignored her cries. She was smart. If she couldn’t keep up, he knew she’d find her way to the ranch without him. He increased his pace, an invisible vise gripping his insides, fueling him faster and faster. He needed to work. He needed to hit something. Hell, he needed to put some distance between him and that damn Marine.

  ****

  Finn Brennan deserved best actor award.

  Cammie hadn’t seen much of him the past three weeks, but when they were together in public, he was the model of a perfect fiancé. She was sick inside. Just sick. She wanted nothing more than to explain her actions to him, but he made sure they were never alone. He either came to their room after she was asleep—even when she’d stayed up past three in the morning—or didn’t come up at all.

  Tonight, after dinner, she’d done recon and discovered he was staying in the weight room. He had a stash of clean clothes hidden in a duffle bag under the sink. She brought them upstairs, hoping it would force the cowboy to do the same.

  The man might be stubborn, but so was she.

  Admittedly worried, Cammie crawled into bed. She didn’t even know where he was. He hadn’t shown up for dinner, and she’d been left to come up with an excuse for his mother.

  Guilt ravaged her body in wave after dark wave, leaving her feeling horrible. Why the hell did she have to undo his pants that day? Why couldn’t she have come to her senses a few seconds sooner? Just a few seconds.

  God, how he must hate me.

  Cammie had seen it in his eyes. The warmth had hardened to ice, and he couldn’t get away from her fast enough, even risking injury to his leg and possibly blowing any chance he had to get back into the Navy. She would never have forgiven herself if that had happened. Never.

  Where is he? She pounded her pillow, then buried her face in the softness.

  She had to make him listen. To set him straight. Her behavior hadn’t stemmed from disgust…but from fear. She had been about to lose herself, to make a connection—not just physically, but emotionally for the first time since her real fiancé had died.

  In what seemed like an eternity, she heard the door open and close. Relief washed the dark waves away. Cammie sat up and turned on the lamp. He didn’t even look at her. He just marched straight into the bathroom and closed the door. Hard.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hot tears gathered in Cammie’s eyes. She shut them tight. What had she expected? To see his sexy, lop-sided grin or devilish blue gaze? Her actions had been like a slap to his face. A type of rejection she had never meant.

  Opening her eyes, she stared at the ceiling. I have to fix this.

  Zeroed in on the mission, she wiped her face, slipped out of bed and began to pace. The cowboy was not going to want to listen. He’d probably even get mean, but she had to persevere. She had to make him see.

  The bathroom door opened and Finn emerged in a towel, a scowl creasing his face the instant he saw her.

  “Keep your words, Cammie. I don’t want to hear them,” he practically spat. “I don’t know what you had hoped to accomplish by taking my clothes, but I’m too tired to argue. Just go to bed.”

  Finn crossed to his closet in four strides, dropped his towel, and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms.

  “No.”

  He stiffened, then turned around.

  “Fine. Suit yourself.”

  He grabbed a blanket and a pillow from the bed and strode to the couch.

  “Ah, for goodness sake, Finn!” She stepped toward him. “Is that really necessary?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  His gaze snapped to her, all warmth still vacant from his eyes.

  “You made it perfectly clear how you feel about my body. I see no reason to make you suffer by sleeping in the same bed.” He flung the pillow onto the couch and dropped down on the cushions.

  She rushed forward. “You couldn’t be more wrong. I think you’re perfect.”

  He looked up at her and scoffed.

  “You sure have a hell of a way of showing it, sweetheart.”

  “What I showed and you saw, was my sense of survival kicking in. God, Finn,” she paused to summon the courage to tell him the truth. Honesty was the only thing that was going to get through to the former SEAL. She thrust a finger toward the bed. “If you had any idea how much I want you, you’d throw me on that mattress and take me over and over until I screamed out your name.”

  His sharp intake echoed around them. She swallowed hard and forced herself to continue
.

  “I loved Tom and was devastated when he died. So, when I realized what we were about to do up on that mountain, I—I panicked. I haven’t been with anyone since him.”

  Cammie pivoted around, putting her back to Finn, scared by the depth of emotions raging inside her soul. She didn’t want to analyze them. Didn’t want his intense gaze to analyze them. They weren’t the issue. She swiped at the tears spilling down her face, and jumped when his warm hand covered her shoulder.

  When had he gotten up?

  “Don’t cry, Cammie,” he said quietly.

  Which, of course, only made her cry more. Stupid. She clamped her jaw and willed the water-works to stop. This situation was not about her. It was about him. She squared her shoulders and turned around.

  “I just wanted you to know the real reason I stopped that day.” She touched the tip of a jagged mark peeking out from the waist of his bottoms. “This had nothing to do with it, Finn. It wasn’t your scars, I swear. Hell, I have my own.”

  She twisted sideways and tugged the waist of her shorts to reveal the marred, uneven patch of skin on her lower back. “See? You’re not the only one marked. This is my daily reminder of how quickly life can be taken away during war. So please, don’t ever think your scars could turn me off. I have my own to deal with. We need to wear them as a badge of honor—to honor those who didn’t make it.”

  She released the waistband and faced him again, relieved to note empathy and enlightenment had chased some of the shadows from his gaze.

  “I never thought of it that way.”

  She nodded. “Then, lets both work on that.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  A spark of mischief appeared in those mesmerizing blue eyes.

  “Any chance I get to see your tattoo?”

  She shook her head and smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

  “Not a chance, Navy.” She leaned forward to rest her forehead on his chin.

  His arms came around her, and she stood there soaking in his acceptance until the last of her guilt dissipated.

  “Finn.” She pushed back as a thought occurred. “What are you going to do about your tattoo?”

  He glanced at his arm. “Nothing, until I have to. T-bone has a friend who can change the emblems so they’re not recognizable.”

  She nodded, but secretly thought it was a shame. His tattoo was a beautiful tribute to his unit and their branch of service.

  “Time for bed.” He headed back to the couch and settled down. “After that mattress remark, I think I’d better keep my distance.”

  Heat rushed to her face. “Yeah, you’ll be safer there.”

  His gaze darkened and he shook his head.

  “Make no mistake, Cammie. I’m doing this so you’ll be safe.”

  ****

  Over the next month, they fell into a comfortable routine, and Cammie began to enjoy ranch life. On the mornings she didn’t train with Clint, she either trained with Finn or joined him on mountain hikes again. Each time they went a little further and pushed a litter harder, but always avoided stopping for a break near that damn waterfall.

  Their treks became more than just a physical workout. They were a breeding ground for Operation Payback ideas. They took turns spouting suggestions and sooner or later, she knew they’d come up with the right one to get back at Brett.

  Now, if she could just put a halt to her feelings for his brother. She set the potato salad on the table between the sliced turkey and fresh rolls his mother had laid on the deck, along with the cowboy’s favorite cake.

  Cammie was falling for Finn. There was no denying it. But, when those feelings threatened, she reminded herself he wasn’t a cowboy, he was Lieutenant Commander Finn Brennan, Navy SEAL and that usually doused the fire. Usually.

  She considered him a good friend though, and had a perverse need to see him happy. To fix him. Blame it on the Marine in her, or those feelings she was trying so hard to curb. Either way, she hoped this afternoon’s birthday surprise wouldn’t go all wrong. It had the potential to help him…or be a big disaster and send their relationship back to square one.

  Her gaze shifted to her watch and her heart skipped a beat. Well, it was too late to pull out now. The wheels were already set in motion.

  “Ah, there’s my birthday boy, now,” Rose said, bringing Cammie out of her thoughts as they sat on the deck watching Finn and Terry approach from the stables.

  The man was gorgeous in his jeans, cowboy boots, black Stetson, and that yummy navy T-shirt enticingly outlining his ripped torso. Lord help her, her mind immediately went to her dipped in chocolate scenario as he stepped onto the deck.

  “Ma, you shouldn’t have. I’m not a young boy anymore.” He bent down to kiss the smiling woman’s cheek.

  “You’ll always be that to me,” Rose replied, patting his face.

  “Help me out here, Terry.”

  “Don’t look at me, boy,” the older man said. “You’re never too old for cake.”

  “Exactly.” His mother nodded. “So sit down and enjoy your lunch. I already celebrated with your brother on the webcam. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He removed his hat, gave Cammie a quick peck on the cheek before settling next to her.

  Everyone laughed while they loaded their plates.

  “I figured you and Cammie probably had plans for tonight, so I thought I’d do a little something now,” Rose stated.

  She dutifully nodded, but they didn’t have any plans. In fact, she wasn’t sure Finn would be speaking to her after her surprise arrived in a few minutes.

  “Yeah, we’re heading into town for dinner,” Finn informed, digging into his food.

  That was news to Cammie. She glanced at him, and he turned and sent her a sexy, lop-sided grin. Her appetite for food suddenly disappeared. His grin broadened. Damn man knew it, too.

  “More leftovers for us.” Terry winked at Rose.

  The woman’s face turned a pretty shade of pink. Cammie exchanged a look with Finn.

  He nodded and sat back in his chair. “So, when are you two going to go out?”

  His mother dropped her fork while Terry froze and stared at Finn as if he’d grown two heads. Cammie bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  “W-what?” Rose’s hand flew to her throat.

  “Mom, you’re a widow, not dead. Dad died over a decade ago. Live a little,” Finn urged. “Terry’s a good man. If you’re worried about Brett and I, don’t be. Quite frankly, we’ve grown tired of watching the two of you side-stepping each other the past few years. Cut it out and get on with it already.”

  “Finn…I-I don’t know what to say.” Rose looked at him, her gaze wide and hopeful.

  “Say you’ll both cut it out and get on with it already,” he repeated with a grin.

  Terry rose to his feet and thrust his hand across the table toward Finn. “I’m glad I have your blessings, son. There’s no way I would do anything without it.”

  “I appreciate that.” Finn rose to his feet to shake the man’s hand. “Now you know Brett and I approve, please do something about it.”

  A full blush spread across Rose’s face, and Cammie was about to comment when the sound of a car met her ears.

  “Who could that be?” Terry asked as they all stood to watch the cream colored SUV pull to a stop.

  “That would be my present for Finn,” Cammie informed, then turned to the cowboy. “Please don’t hate me.”

  “I could never hate you,” he reassured.

  She prayed he was right as he glanced at the occupants disembarking from the vehicle, then stiffened when he caught sight of the Marine. His gaze snapped back to her.

  “What the hell have you done?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What should’ve been done years ago.” Cammie’s warm brown eyes were full of concern. “You need to hear the truth about Baghdad.” The traitor pulled him toward the steps. “It’s time you faced your demons.”

  F
ace my demons…

  Every muscle in Finn’s body tightened at once. He didn’t want to face his demons, he wanted to throttle them, rip them apart, and thrash each piece until there was nothing left.

  He glanced at the woman leading him to the driveway. His insides hollowed. How could she do this to him? He had never felt so betrayed. So deceived. He thought they were friends. Not even Brett would have pulled such a stunt.

  The urge to rip out of her grasp and march to the stables was strong. But it was too late. His surprise was already standing by the vehicle right in front of them. The turncoat released him to step toward the Marine and salute him.

  “Corporal, thank you so much for coming.” She shook the man’s hand.

  Finn hadn’t seen Corporal Wade Harrison since the explosion. He had been told the Marine had survived and that was all he needed to know. He never inquired further. Now, he took in the man’s dress blues and how from just below his left knee, the pants draped thin…

  A stab of guilt shot through Finn. The Marine sported a prosthetic leg. Damn. He hadn’t known the young recruit had faced such an injury. His guilt disappeared under a flash of anger. Both of their injuries were senseless. Why the hell couldn’t the Marine have just obeyed his order?

  “No, thank you, ma’am,” the corporal was saying. “I’ve been trying to track down Lieutenant Commander Brennan.” He turned to Finn and held out his hand. “It’s good to see you again, sir.”

  Finn did what was expected and shook the man’s hand, then dropped it as if he was on fire. Between the corporal and Cammie, he’d had his fill of the Corp. He was done.

  “This is my wife, Sandy.”

  The Marine draped an arm around the petite woman who’d emerged from the driver’s side. Finn watched as Cammie smiled and shook her hand.

  “Hello, Sandy. I’m, Cammie. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  She went on to introduce his mother and Terry who had come down to the driveway with them. When everyone was done shaking hands the tiny brunette looked up at Cammie with tears in her eyes.

  “This is a good thing you’re doing. My husband’s been through so much. He needs this.”