Courted by a Cowboy

by Mindy Neff

  For some reason, his words brought a genuine, sassy smile to her face and impish delight to her eyes. It flat-out charmed him.

  “Sorry, cowboy. My lips are sealed. Us Texas Sweethearts have a confidentiality rule.”

  “We’re talking about my daughter here.” He gave himself points for keeping a straight face—and his hands to himself.

  “Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “No way. Sealed tight.”

  When she clamped her lips together to punctuate the playful words, his body went from semihard to iron in an instant. By damn, he was about to lose the points he’d just earned.

  “I bet I can unseal them.”

  “Better men than you have tried,” she teased.

  “Think so?” He crowded her against the porch rail. “You know, don’t you, that that’s a dare I can’t refuse.” With her back against the wooden post, he leaned in, slid his knee between her thighs and pressed upward.

  Nice and firm.

  She sucked in a breath, her eyes going wide. Pure masculine satisfaction pumped in his chest as he watched emotions flash in those expressive green eyes. Stunned…oh, yes. Aroused—absolutely. Her lips parted.

  “Your mouth’s open, sugar bear.” Cupping her face in his hands, he bent his head and kissed her.

  He realized in an instant that he’d miscalculated. One touch and all the familiar memories crashed over him like a bale of hay falling from a storage loft, scattering his feeling like straw in the wind.

  What had started as a dare had gotten out of control. Lifting his head took every drop of strength he possessed.

  SUNNY LOOKED UP AT JACK, her hands still clasped behind his neck. She wasn’t absolutely sure she could speak, was fairly certain her lungs had malfunctioned.

  She cleared her throat. “That wasn’t fair. Sealed lips mean no telling.”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up in a half smile. “I like my interpretation better.”

  “So do I.” She wasn’t sure who made the first move, but she didn’t care because his mouth was right where she wanted it. Against hers.

  Years of longing collided with passion, wrenching a moan from deep in her throat. The sound of surrender whipped the power of the kiss into a raging storm faster than lightning could split the sky.

  His arms wrapped around her waist and his knee wedged between her thighs, pressing, setting her on fire. She buried her fingers in his hair, held on, her mind screaming, at last. His taste, his scent, his skill and sexual confidence were as familiar as her own face in a mirror.

  He cupped the back of her thigh, lifted, hauled her closer still, then bunched up the hem of her dress and slid his palm over her behind. When his fingertips grazed the juncture of her thighs, a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors exploded and the world seemed to fade away. Her hips bucked, seeking more, harder.

  They fed on each other in a frenzy of need, restless hands tangling as they sought to touch, moans ending in impatient whimpers, bodies pressing in a desperate race to reach that promised bliss.

  He jerked his head back and she dazedly gulped in air. She finally realized that the buzz inside her head was the sound of the cicadas rejoicing in the night.

  Her hands slipped off his shoulders, down to his elbows. She felt his erection straining against his jeans as he held her hips firmly against him and leaned his forehead against hers.

  “This isn’t right.” His voice was raspy, his breath hitching as though he’d run a marathon.

  “Yes, it is.” Confusion swirled. He had her so aroused the only sensation she could identify in her body was the throb of desire between her legs. She tightened her grip on his arms. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

  He lifted his head, the burning intensity in his blue eyes both a warning and a promise.

  “I don’t intend to stop, sugar bear. I meant it’s not right that we’re going at it like rabid coyotes ripping into a lamb.”

  She eased a bit. His analogy wasn’t exactly romantic, but…“It was working for me.”

  “Are you sure?” His gaze remained on hers.

  Astonished, she felt her jaw go slack. “Of course I’m sure. Couldn’t you tell?”

  His lips curved. “I meant, are you sure about this? Us? I’ve been dead determined to get you into a motel room or my bed ever since we started this dance. But I have to know it’s what you want. I’m tied up in knots, sugar bear, and if I loosen them, I won’t want to stop.”

  She laced her fingers behind his neck and tugged until his lips were a sigh away from hers. “I was a Girl Scout. We excel at untying knots.”

  Elation and surrender rumbled in his throat and flared in his eyes an instant before he covered her lips, accepting her invitation. Without breaking the kiss, he swept his arm beneath her thighs and lifted her.

  “What in the world?” A breeze whispered over her naked behind. She snatched at the hem of her dress, tried to hold it in place.

  “I’m going to seduce you, sugar bear. And it’s not going to be out on the porch.”

  “Oh…Well.”

  He paused, frowned. “What’s that digging into my side?”

  She thought for a minute. “My cell phone. My dress doesn’t have pockets. I clipped it to my panties.”

  “I can’t wait to see how you managed that on a G-string. Or how the hell I missed it.”

  “It’s tiny. No sense in gouging you, though. Why don’t you put me down and I’ll walk—or run. It’ll be faster.”

  “Sugar bear, I swore when I got you in my arms that I wasn’t letting you go.”

  He had that determined look on his face that told her he had his own agenda and she should save her breath. He navigated the door, kicked it closed and twisted the dead bolt, but Sunny couldn’t fully appreciate his skill because she was still busy grabbing for her elusive hem.

  She had no idea where this sudden modesty came from, couldn’t bring herself to actually admit it. But it made her feel out of control.

  “Relax, sugar.”

  That was like asking Simba to squeeze through a mouse hole. Impossible.

  Desire still simmered, but unaccountable nerves hummed beneath her skin, fluttered in her stomach like butterfly kisses. She wanted this night to be perfect. Yet she was suddenly as jumpy as a spinster virgin.

  He was a man in a hurry to get them to the bedroom, and she grabbed his shoulders, self-preservation winning out over modesty. But when he turned the corner and mounted the stairs two at a time her brain scrambled.

  Holy crud! Her bare behind had just winked at her in the hall mirror like a giant peach.

  “No sense tugging at that dress. I’ll have it off of you in a minute.”

  “In the meantime I’m mooning whoever happens to come into the living room!” The spindled wooden banister ran the length of the stairs, then continued around the corner, guarding the edge of the hallway to ensure safety, yet open so that the second floor was visible from the living room below.

  His lips twitched, but he paused at the top of the stairs, used his knee to support her weight and smoothed the hem over her curves, anchoring it with his arm.

  And then he kissed her. A kiss that soothed and aroused, blanked her mind of everything but that very moment.

  “No one’s here—except Beau,” he said softly as he continued down the hall. “And he’s clear over in the other wing of the house. Once he takes out his hearing aids, he wouldn’t hear a stick of dynamite if it went off right beside his bed.”

  Sunny rested her head against Jack’s shoulder and sighed. “I hate to admit this, but I think I’m scared.”

  They were in his bedroom now, the lamp on the nightstand switched on low. He lowered her feet to the floor, ran his hands up her arms to her shoulders, tenderly framed her face in his palms and tipped it up to his.

  “Me, too, Sunny.”

  The admission, and the gentle touch of his lips, steadied her. She’d never known another man who could kiss as seductively as Jack.

  He didn’t try to swallow
her whole. He simply enjoyed the process, slowly building the fires of passion, absolutely sure of where he intended to go.

  She’d been prepared for wild, physically demanding sex—the way she remembered it being between them, the way they’d begun on the porch. She hadn’t expected this tender assault on her emotions, this heart-pounding, unfamiliar sense of being cherished.

  It frightened her. She was honest enough to admit that ten years of trying to smother her feelings for Jack, tamping down embers that only needed air to be fanned into flames, hadn’t worked. She’d promised herself she could handle it—as long as she held back at least a small part of herself.

  He was sabotaging her efforts, though. With tenderness. Toying and nibbling, bestowing a hundred incredible kisses that seemed to blend into one.

  She reached up and encircled his wrists, needing to touch. But he took her hands and held them down at her sides, his fingertips trailing back up her arms. He slipped one spaghetti strap of her dress off a shoulder, then the other. She tipped her head to the side as he kissed his way over her cheek and down her neck.

  “You smell good. Like cinnamon candy. I’ve dreamed about that scent.”

  His mouth feasted as though she tasted the same way. Arousal clenched inside her.

  “Jack.” Part murmur, part moan, his name was all she could manage. She wanted to tell him to hurry up, but her mind fogged, filled with too many tactile sensations for her to form coherent speech.

  He reached behind her and lowered her zipper, his fingertips a slow caress down her spine as he smoothed the silky slip dress over her curves and then let it fall on the floor. The dress didn’t allow for a bra, and a draft cooled by the air conditioner whispered over her bare skin and pebbled her nipples.

  “I don’t think you’ll be needing this.” He un-hooked the tiny cell phone from the elastic band at the side of her panties, then set it on the nightstand.

  Then he stepped back and looked at her. His eyes never wavering, he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off.

  His body was perfect, honed by hard physical labor rather than by working out at a gym. His gaze was like a caress. Every atom of her being hummed as her eyes catalogued each masculine detail of the man standing two feet away—familiar details, and the ones altered by time.

  When his hands went to the snap of his jeans, she stepped forward. “Let me.”

  He hesitated, and she wondered if they were going to butt heads over control. She was counting on a fiftyfifty split in that department. The clock on the night-stand ticked, drawing attention to the silence.

  A vein pulsed at his temple and his hands dropped to his sides.

  Still his gaze didn’t waver.

  She slid her left hand inside his waistband, felt the muscles of his stomach contract as her fingers grazed his abdomen, then moved downward…and encountered the velvety, moist tip of his erection.

  “No skivvies.” She’d intended the comment to be boldly teasing, but her voice trembled.

  Heart pumping, she closed her left palm around the tip of him, squeezed gently, then slid her hand all the way down, as the fingers of her other hand flicked open metal buttons. He sucked in a sharp breath, the sound filling her with feminine power.

  His jeans now open, she cupped both hands around him and reversed the path, felt the steely, hot beat of his pulse against her palms as she inched her way back to the tip. Wanting to see and touch all of him, she grasped the denim waistband.

  His hands shot out and clasped her wrists.

  She glanced up at him, whispered, “You’re still a little overdressed.”

  He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her palms, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core.

  “I’ve got plans for you, sugar bear, and none of them includes racing out of the barn before the gate’s open. Which is likely to happen if you keep touching me that way.”

  She might have argued over the issue of control, but he didn’t give her the chance. He kissed her neck, the swell of her breast, distracted her when his mouth closed over her nipple, his clever tongue sending pure bliss sizzling from the roots of her hair to her toes.

  It had been so long. No man had ever brought this intensity of pleasure, never taken her so far, so fast.

  Only Jack.

  Her head fell back and her eyes closed. His palms stroked her body, gently squeezed her behind, slid between her legs, his fingertips circling, teasing. Need coiled in her belly. She was hardly aware that he’d slipped off her panties and laid her on the bed until the cool sheets met her overheated skin.

  When she opened her eyes, he’d kicked off his jeans and was easing on top of her. She cradled him between her thighs, desperation and need colliding. Heels digging into the mattress, she raised her hips, an invitation, a demand.

  But instead of thrusting, he lifted his body off her, shifting so they had plenty of room in the bed.

  “Uh-uh,” he murmured. “I’ve barely gotten started.”

  She grabbed the sheet in her fist, nearly screamed. “Well, I’m way ahead of you, cowboy, so you better catch up.”

  His smile grew wider. “I like my position just fine. Feel free to cross the finish line without me—as many times as you like.” He trailed his fingers around the healing abrasion on her thigh. “I’ll keep up. In fact, I’ll do my best to help you out…as many times as you want.”

  “What if I only want the main one?”

  He shook his head. Tsked. “I bet you still read the last page of a novel first.”

  “I like to know what’s coming, so I can relax and enjoy the story.”

  His fingers stilled. His gaze snapped to hers. “You know what’s coming, sugar bear. And it’ll be both of us. So relax and enjoy. I’ll take care of the surprises.”

  His sensual self-assurance was a thrilling aphrodisiac—because she knew for a fact he could deliver.

  But relaxing was not an option. The instant his lips touched her skin, tension snapped in her veins like live wires arcing against metal.

  He kissed the bruise on the side of her knee, then the one on her shin. He sought out every slight contusion and ministered to it with the utmost, tender care.

  It was the most heart-stopping, erotic thing she’d ever experienced.

  He knew exactly where to stroke to bring a gasp, the right amount of pressure to exert to make her writhe and cry out. As though determined to uphold a sacred vow, he took his time, lingered, toyed, aroused. With his lips and his hands, he sent her spiraling into what felt like an endless climax, again and again.

  “No more,” she finally said when she could form the words. “I need you inside me. Now, Jack.”

  This time he didn’t hesitate. She was ready. More than ready. She raised her knees, felt the tip of him press against her, enter, then stop. She whimpered, her body pulsing hard, squeezing the head of his penis.

  “Give me a minute, sweetheart.”

  Although her body still throbbed, she went still. He usually called her sugar, or sugar bear. The only times he’d ever called her sweetheart was the night he’d told her he loved her and the day she’d nearly drowned when she’d hit her head on a tree limb while jumping into the lake.

  Two, highly emotional moments. Both had filled her with joy then, and this one did now. She doubted he even realized it.

  He framed her face with his hands, kissed her as though she was his world, and eased inside her all the way.

  “Yes,” she whispered, hooking her arms beneath his, clutching his shoulder blades. She arched and ground against him, her body relearning his. “Now.”

  He thrust into her deeper and harder, momentum building faster and faster. She screamed when the first climax slammed into her, and when the second one crested, he kissed her, swallowing her cries of ecstasy, trading them for his own as he surrendered and poured out his release.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jack didn’t have any desire to sleep. He had Sunny in his arms, and he didn’t want to miss a minute of t
he time they had left.

  He stroked his fingers up and down her arm as he held her against his side. She’d gone quiet on him. He didn’t doubt he’d satisfied her. But the silence made him nervous.

  “You asleep?” he asked.

  “No. I’m just…” Her warm breath sighed against his chest. “I haven’t been made love to like that in a very long while.”

  He glanced down at her. In bed after lovemaking wasn’t exactly the place to bring up prior relationships, but Sunny was good at evading talk of her own life. He had her right now, and he wasn’t letting go the rest of the night. So he’d satisfy his curiosity.

  “I thought you were engaged.”

  “An engagement doesn’t guarantee great sex.”

  Okay. He was liking this conversation. The fiancé was lousy as a lover, and she’d said Jack himself was great. Not in those exact words, but the meaning was the same.

  “Is that why you called it off?”

  “I didn’t call it off. He dumped me.”

  “Guy’s an idiot.”

  She patted his chest. “It wasn’t meant to be. I think I knew that. But I haven’t had the best track record with relationships. I thought I could make that one work. The kicker is, when we broke up my entire social life came to a screeching halt. People chose sides, and Michael happened to be the one with power and influence. He could get a table at Spago with only a phone call, and was on the VIP lists for all the glitzy award parties in Hollywood. I didn’t have those connections.”

  He tightened his arm around her and squeezed. “Sounds like you had some pretty shallow friends. Do you miss going to those glitzy parties?”

  “Not really. It was exciting at first. But they wouldn’t let Simba come.”

  Jack chuckled and dropped a kiss on her head.

  “Michael was…” She raised up on her elbow. “Do you really want to hear this?”

  “Yeah. I really do.” Like old times. Before he’d lost the right to hold her, listen to her talk.

  She lay back down. “Michael was positioning himself for politics. He saw everything in terms of how much money it paid, the prestige or the opportunity to climb another rung higher up the political ladder. And he tended to sweep people along with him, expected them to do the same, want the same. He’d generate all this excitement, you know? And you’d find yourself caught up in it, thinking it was exactly what you wanted, and that it was totally your idea. That’s kind of how I ended up in the job I’m in.”