by Ruthie Knox
“Right now?” It was dark out, and it wouldn’t be safe to ride. “Can’t it wait until morning?”
He said something under his breath she didn’t catch. Probably for the best—it hadn’t sounded complimentary.
“Tom?”
“Fine,” he said. He turned his attention to Lance, who had been watching their whole discussion with a bewildered expression. “You’re leaving as soon as the sun comes up,” Tom announced. “And you’d better ride fast, because if I ever see you again, you’re going to be sorry.”
Then he took Lexie’s hand and guided her away from the campfire. “Come on, Lex. You’re sleeping with me.”
10
Tom led her into his tent. He found his headlamp and turned it on, hanging it from the loop on the ceiling to cast a feeble light on his familiar belongings. Lexie pulled off her shoes and sat cross-legged on top of Tom’s sleeping bag, feeling unsure and suddenly awkward.
Come on, Lex. You’re sleeping with me. There was more than one way to take that, and she would very much like to know which one he’d meant. But whatever spark of brazenness had launched her into his arms back in Idaho had long since gone out, and the surge of emotion that had allowed her to press her face against his chest by the campfire had ebbed, too. She watched Tom zip the tent closed, rearrange a few of the flaps, and then finally settle down on his haunches across from her.
One of them had to say something. Probably it should be her. She’d always done most of the talking with Tom. But it was hard to decide where to start. She’d lied to him for weeks and had practically thrown herself on him behind the bike shop. Now he’d found her with Lance after she’d promised to ride with Paul—Lance who had proven himself to be less than a knight in shining armor. She couldn’t imagine what he thought of her, but for her part she was fairly disgusted with herself.
Might as well start with the obvious. “What are you doing here?”
He answered with a question of his own. “Who’s James?”
“He’s my brother. Sorry.”
Tom’s lips twitched. “Don’t be too sorry. It’s not exactly bad news from where I’m sitting.”
She looked down at the floor of the tent as she tried to formulate a proper apology. Nothing brilliant came to mind. She glanced up at him. “Cards on the table here, okay?”
He nodded.
“I didn’t want to sleep with you. The best way to make sure I didn’t was to pretend I was married. But it was cowardly of me not to tell you the truth, and I’m sorry I made you feel like you were doing something wrong.”
A deep crease appeared between his eyebrows, and he frowned. “Let me make sure I have this right. You want to sleep with me, but you don’t want to want to?”
She tilted her head in acknowledgment.
“Why not?” When she didn’t answer right away, he reminded her, “Cards on the table, Marshall.”
“I didn’t want everything to get complicated,” she admitted finally. “The ride’s the important thing, and I don’t need a boyfriend or a … whatever you’d be afterward. I’m not looking for all that.”
He nodded again, silently considering her explanation.
She still needed answers of her own. “So why are you here?”
“For you.”
The way he said it—flat, expressionless—it was the least romantic declaration she’d ever heard. But then he reached out to cup her chin, his hand warm and gentle, long fingers curving around to her jaw. She leaned into the touch. When their eyes met, she saw a fierce desire that matched hers, and something else she couldn’t name, something that spoke to the part of her that didn’t like being so out of control. Whatever this was between them, he was in it, too, and he didn’t have any more of a handle on it than she did. It should have been scary, but it was actually a relief.
“I missed you,” he admitted. The low rumble of his voice made her nerve endings hum. He began stroking her jawline with his thumb, a light caress she could feel everywhere. Lexie closed her eyes.
“Let me make a suggestion,” Tom said after a moment. His fingers trailed down her neck, his thumb brushing her throat. “We don’t have to make this complicated. You and I will be … companions, let’s say. We’ll ride together, we’ll sleep together, and when we get to Yorktown, it’ll be over. You’ll go home and find somebody else for your happily ever after. But until then, I get to have you.”
It was a blunt proposal. It was also exactly what she needed to hear to settle her fears and dissolve her resistance. They could both have what they wanted. They wouldn’t let it get complicated. Tom could keep his secrets and his feelings locked up tight the way he liked them, and she wouldn’t have to worry about any of the relationship stuff she was trying to avoid. Nobody was going to fall in love with anybody. They’d just have lots of hot, steamy sex. Perfect.
She met his eyes. “I want you to have me.”
He didn’t move.
Rising to her knees, she curled her trembling fingers around his shoulders and scooted forward to straddle his lap, her dress bunching high on her thighs. She inched closer until her breasts brushed against his chest and the heat of his body seeped through the barriers of their clothes. “I want you to have me,” she murmured again, tucking her face against his neck.
For a long moment, he was still, and she held her breath.
Then his arms came around her, pulling her tight against him. He wanted her. She could feel the evidence pressing against the thin cotton of her panties, and her body responded with a rush of wet heat.
“Tell me again,” he said quietly. “You have to mean it, because if I kiss you, I’m not going to be able to stop.”
There was absolutely no question.
She leaned back and reached down to pull her dress up over her head. “I want you …” Her hands found the clasp of her bra. “… to have me.” She let it drop beside her dress. “Now would you please kiss me?”
His mouth met hers, and the spark caught, heating her up so fast she thought she might spontaneously combust. Their tongues tangled urgently together as his callused fingers roamed over her, memorizing her, claiming her. Her body reacted as if it had known him forever and had missed him for far too long to be patient now. There was a familiarity to the hard press of him against her, and accompanying it a frenzy so completely outside her experience it made her lightheaded. Fumbling with his fly, she tried to get him undressed as fast as possible. “C’mon, Geiger,” she said, a little breathless. “Pick up the pace.”
He smiled and yanked his shirt over his head, then replaced her hands at his waistband to unzip his shorts. As he pulled them off, she ran her hands over his broad back, tracing the gully of his spine, skimming down toward his narrow waist and back over the ridges of his stomach. The light suspended from the ceiling of the tent made his body a study in chiaroscuro shapes, and she would have liked to spend hours looking at him, days getting acquainted with every inch of him—except she was too greedy now to spare the time.
When he was fully undressed, his arms came back around her, and he kissed her again, hot and hungry as his hands found her butt and urged her closer.
“Tell me you have a condom,” she said against his lips.
“I have a condom.”
“Hallelujah.”
He laughed, and then she was on her back with his stiff cock pressing into the soft skin of her stomach, his big hand cupping her head as he swept his tongue into her mouth and thrust against her with a groan that raised her blood temperature to just shy of boiling.
Tom shoved her panties down and off with one hand, testing her readiness with a deft two-fingered stroke that made her gasp. He found her slippery and swollen, proof of an arousal that had been building since the moment he pulled her against his chest at the campfire. His hand lingered between her legs, expertly stroking and teasing her until she was begging with her mouth, begging with her hips to be taken. Then he rolled the condom on, spread her thighs, and moved inside her. And she lost the
ability to breathe.
She’d known there would be no romance with Tom, and that was fine. That was how she wanted it. But she’d had no idea it would be like this, that the relentless press of his body into hers would actually drive out every other sensation until he was filling her and there was nothing left but him.
He was everything she wanted.
For a long moment he just held her there, his tattooed biceps rigid with the strain of bearing his own weight, his breath on her neck, his heat pulsing deep inside her, his heart beating so hard she could feel it pounding against her own.
She tipped her hips up, inviting him in deeper, and he groaned helplessly. “God, Lex. Tell me this is really okay.”
“It’s better than okay.”
“You’re mine.” He said it like an oath, both a curse and a promise.
She liked the sound of that.
And then he pulled out and drove back in, slowly at first, but slowly didn’t last long. Inside of a minute, he had her so close to a climax she could practically taste it. “More,” she demanded, wrapping her legs around him. “That feels so good.”
Her plea seemed to strip what little self-control he had left, and he sped up, driving into her fast and hard until she didn’t know what she was saying, and she flew apart. The orgasm was sweet and almost painful, as fierce as anything she’d ever experienced. His welcome assault on her body drew out the pleasure until she could hardly bear it, and when she thought it would finally end, she came again with a cry of surprise.
Tom followed her then, collapsed on top of her, and she lay there trembling, exhausted, filled with a fragile happiness she was afraid to examine too closely.
It was a long time before either of them moved.
Eventually, he came to his senses and rolled off her. When she sucked in a quick breath and winced, he panicked.
“Christ, did I hurt you?”
He must have. He hadn’t really been in control of himself, not after what had happened, and he’d wanted her so badly he hadn’t been able to slow down. He’d held nothing back.
Remorse overwhelmed him, and he closed his eyes, fighting for purchase against the sinking sensation he’d already managed to screw this up.
Warm fingers stroked his forehead. “Relax. I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She kissed his arm. “Not a single thing.”
The tight feeling in his chest started to ease, and he took a few deep breaths. Lexie wiggled up onto him, pressing the soft weight of her breasts against his chest. “Look at me.” He did, and he found her eyes a few inches from his, warm and totally content. “I’d do it again, a hundred times, with no regrets,” she said. “Okay?”
She smiled tentatively down at him, and it felt so damn good, he let himself smile back. “Okay.” Reaching up, he brushed her hair away from her cheek, needing the excuse to touch her. “A hundred times, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.
Her eyes widened. “Well, maybe not tonight. You’re not a small man, and that wasn’t exactly slow and easy, let’s-get-acquainted sex. That was more of a wham, bam, thank-you-ma’am kind of thing.” The smile was wider this time.
Chuckling, he tugged her closer and kissed her gently, savoring the taste of her, cupping her ass with one hand and enjoying the soft feel of her skin against his palm. “I didn’t hear you complaining. If I recall, what you were saying was ‘Don’t stop, Tom,’ ‘Please, Tom,’ ‘Oh my God, Tom’—”
She shoved at his chest in mock indignation. “If you ever hope to do it again, don’t rub it in.”
“Oh, we’re doing it again. I have something to prove now.”
“What’s that?”
“I have to show you how good I am at slow and easy, let’s-get-acquainted sex.”
She rolled her eyes, and he flipped her onto her back. He hadn’t had a chance to look at her properly yet, and a naked Lexie deserved to be fully appreciated. Her hair was tangled and spread all over his camp pillow, and her full lips were swollen from his kisses. Her breasts were gorgeous, tipped with coral nipples that drew to a peak as he looked at them. His dick twitched in response. Letting his gaze drift downward, he was pleased to see her thighs part just enough to let him know he was welcome to explore if he wanted to.
He definitely wanted to.
“Let me kiss it better,” he said, sliding down between her legs. “I’ll be nice.”
She had no objections.
When she woke, the tent was disconcertingly bright, and Tom was gone. Lexie was accustomed to getting up when it was still dark out, but the events of the night before had worn her out. She felt drained and a little bruised, both physically and emotionally.
When she emerged into the light, he was nowhere to be found, so she walked over to where her tent was pitched, a little apprehensive until she saw that Lance’s tent and bike were gone. Good riddance to bad rubbish, as Mom always said. Quickly grabbing her bike clothes and shower kit, she headed for the bathrooms.
Tom was walking toward her along the path. He was freshly showered and shaved, his black hair still gleaming wet. He looked gorgeous and stern, as usual. Anxiety flooded through her. Her feet stuttered to a stop, waiting for him to draw closer. She didn’t know what their agreement meant in the light of day. How were they going to be with each other now?
He stopped a foot away from her, a little too close for casual acquaintances, a little too far away for an embrace. Frowning, he lifted a hand as if to touch her, then let it drop. “How are you doing this morning?” he asked finally.
Her eyes filled with tears for the second time in two days, and she pressed them tightly shut, ashamed of herself. “Not so great, actually.” She wanted him to hold her, but daytime embracing might not be part of the companionship deal. Why should it be? She was just going to have to get a handle on herself. Maybe a little surge of morning-after emotion was to be expected, but Tom didn’t have to know about it.
“Can I—” He trailed off, obviously struggling with something. He looked irritated, embarrassed, and she felt a surge of empathy for him. “Ah, hell, Lex. Come here.” He closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her, blanketing her in the steady warmth of his presence. Immediately, she felt better. He kissed her temple, making her shiver, but in a good way.
Maybe this didn’t have to be so complicated.
“You still going to ride with me?” she asked.
“Of course.”
The reassurance thrilled her more than it should have. She was going to have to be careful here, or she’d find herself way more attached to Tom than was healthy. He would be her riding companion, her lover. But they had a deal. He wasn’t going to be her boyfriend, and she definitely wasn’t going to fall in love with the guy. That would just be stupid.
She rose to her tiptoes and brushed a kiss over his mouth, enjoying the little wave of warmth that washed all the way down to her toes. “Good. I’m going to take a quick shower, and then let’s get out of here. I’m ready to put Montana behind me.”
“Fine with me.” He burrowed his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and tipped her head back to kiss her properly, slowly and thoroughly and with enough sizzle to make her forget they were in the middle of a public campground. Before Tom, she’d had no idea kissing could be so hot. She’d always considered it sort of a warm-up act, but Tom made it feel like the main event. A girl could get used to being kissed like this.
He broke off and smiled then, that slow, sexy grin she liked so much, and said, “You sure you don’t want to hang around here a little longer this morning?”
“What, and go see Old Faithful?” she asked, pretending ignorance. “You know, I haven’t really taken in the sights yet.”
Tom’s lip curled, but his eyes remained playful. “Old Faithful’s not the sights. Old Faithful is a bunch of tourists trying to keep their brats happy with potato chips until the geyser goes off so they can take a picture with their phone and e-mail it to Grandma before they pile back into the minivan.”
“Only you could be so cynical about the nation’s most beloved park.”
“It’s not the park I hate, it’s the people. Yesterday, I saw a bunch of tourists who’d pulled over to the side of the road so they could stalk buffalo with cameras. One guy got within fifteen feet of a full-grown adult bison. He could have been trampled to death, and he was shouting to his kids to come closer, waving his arms around like a wanker.”
She smiled up at him. He was a cranky bastard, but he was her cranky bastard. “So what you’re saying is, you’d rather be alone with me?”
“Much.”
Lexie gave his ass an affectionate squeeze—taking an extra second to appreciate what a fine ass it was—and then started down the path to the showers, turning to walk backward so she could deliver her parting comment.
“That’s good, because I hear the part of Wyoming we’re heading into is pretty desolate. No tourists at all. Just you, me, and the big blue sky. We’ll have to hope you don’t grow weary of my company.”
“Not a chance,” he said.
The crazy thing was, he actually sounded like he meant it.
After they left Yellowstone and Grand Teton parks behind, they hit Togwotee Pass, climbing to 9,658 feet, the highest elevation they’d reached yet.
They pedaled through the Breccia Cliffs and the Wind River mountains and battled gusting side winds near Fort Washakie.
East of Lander, they rode for 124 miles without seeing more than a dozen cars. There were no trees, no hills, no shade. Just dry, sandy scrub with tumbleweeds straight out of a Hollywood western, a harsh sun, and wind like you wouldn’t believe. They had to knock back a ton of water to wash the grit out of their teeth and keep from drying up and blowing away.
They climbed up into the Continental Divide Basin fighting strong headwinds that forced them to pedal downhill into Rawlins, which was just wrong.
But Tom had Lexie riding beside him. Even better, at night in his tent, he had her above him, below him, and every other way they could think of.