Collision at Roosevelt Ranch

by Elise Faber

  Haley smacked her shoulder. “You’re terrible.”

  “Maybe,” Miss teased. “But I’m also getting lots of orgasms, so I think you want a piece of this pie.” At her words, they both froze. Melissa grimaced. “Okay, so not the best word choice. I’m going to stop talking.” She pushed off the bed, extended a hand to help Haley up, then pretended to knight her with one of the heels she’d pulled from the closet. “Go forth and jump Sam’s bones.”

  Twenty-Two

  Sam

  * * *

  Sam didn’t think he’d ever slept that late . . . or definitely not since his teenage years. He’d shuffled through his front door the previous evening at a quarter past nine, dropped his jacket by the front door, stepped out of his boots, then stumbled into bed and hadn’t moved until almost noon.

  The benefit of approximately fourteen hours of sleep was that he had more energy than usual.

  And he wanted to use that energy in a very specific way.

  But he’d promised himself and Haley that they would take it slow, and in his mind that meant he was going to wait until her cast was off before they explored the physical stuff.

  Physical stuff?

  Fuck, he needed to get it together.

  He wanted Haley. Badly. But she’d been through a lot with Brian, and that meant he needed to tread carefully. She needed to understand that—

  He had fucking blue balls?

  Yeah. That was a certainty.

  But not the whole story because Haley had to know that she was beautiful and worthwhile and he wanted her so much that he’d been tempted to stroke himself to orgasm in the shower that afternoon.

  Okay, no. She didn’t need to know that part.

  Just that—

  Why was he waiting the full six weeks again?

  “Respect, douche canoe,” he muttered to himself in the mirror as he fixed his hair and slapped on some deodorant. “Haley deserves some fucking respect, not a meaningless one-night stand.”

  Except, it wouldn’t be for one night, would it?

  Because Haley was—

  Fuck. He had the feeling that Haley was everything.

  Hence, him not wanting to screw it all up. Sighing, Sam left the bathroom and headed to the kitchen for the flowers and the banana cream pie he’d begged Melissa to make.

  He set the pie and flowers on the passenger’s seat then rounded his SUV and forced his way into the driver’s seat. His insurance had finally gotten back to him, and though he’d take a hit on the length of the loan, his new SUV would be delivered on Wednesday.

  At least he wouldn’t be in a wrestling match with his door multiple times a day.

  Okay. Focus.

  He’d pick Haley up and take her out to the diner or maybe for pizza, because it would have to be away from Haley’s house and the temptation of stripping her naked and continuing where they’d left off in her kitchen the other day. But maybe afterward, he could trust himself enough to go inside for a drink and a slice of pie and not get her naked.

  Not likely.

  So, maybe the plan needed to be to get her naked but to keep himself clothed.

  Yeah, that he thought he could do.

  “Go team,” he muttered, knowing he was way overthinking this, but not able to stop.

  Not when Haley meant so much.

  He kept his eyes peeled for deer as he navigated the short distance from his house to hers. Rob had been true to his word and the brush had been cut back, so Sam hadn’t seen any kamikaze Bambis lately, but he wasn’t exactly at the trust stage yet.

  A few minutes later, he’d parked in Haley’s driveway and was bounding up the stairs as she opened the door. He saw a glimpse of one bare knee resting on the scooter and . . .

  He couldn’t process the rest.

  Because Haley was wearing a tight, short dress that highlighted every single curve.

  “Hi,” she said, her eyes warm, her smile satisfied, her breasts all but spilling out of the low V. “Is that Melissa’s banana cream pie?”

  A completely nonsexual question, but she bent over as she strained to see the container in his hand. Her breasts, fuck, but her breasts. She flicked her gaze back up to his. “Oh, Sam,” she moaned. “I can’t wait—”

  And that was it for him.

  He barely had the presence of mind to set the flowers and pie on the little bench that sat just inside her front door before he was reaching for her and sweeping her up into his arms.

  Sam kicked the scooter aside then slammed—and locked this time—the door.

  A heartbeat later his mouth was on hers.

  He turned, pinning her back against the wood panel as he kissed her with every bit of pent-up lust from the last weeks. Her breasts were soft against his chest, her thighs around his hips the best feeling in the fucking world. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, stroking it along hers until she finally pushed at his shoulders.

  “Air,” she gasped.

  He kissed her again, long and deep and slow before nipping at the corner of her lips and then trailing his mouth down her neck and between her breasts.

  Her fingernails bit into his shoulders as he nibbled and licked all of the exposed skin. “Sam,” she groaned, encouraging him down while arching her breasts up. Her cast hit him in the back of the knee, and he sucked in a breath, shoring up his patience.

  Fuck six weeks.

  Tonight, he was going to make Haley come until she couldn’t see straight.

  “Please,” she said, thighs clenching around his waist. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “Shit,” he gritted out, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to reach everywhere he wanted to, knowing that she needed slow and steady and—she undulated against him, making stars flash behind his eyes, nearly destroying the hairsbreadth of patience he’d managed to steal—Haley needed a bed so her leg—

  “Sam.” Her mouth found his, and this time she took the lead, driving his desire to a fever pitch. His blood roiled beneath his skin, his cock was hard and aching and—

  Forget the bed.

  Couch. That worked.

  He strode over, setting her down so her leg with the cast was stretched out along the cushions and the other was on the floor. The sight of her legs slightly spread, of her uninjured foot in a strappy black sandal—

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice sounding like he’d swallowed sandpaper, and he dove between her thighs, hitching her dress up and finding . . . holy, fucking shit. “Why aren’t you wearing any underwear?”

  Her teeth found her bottom lip, but there was heat in her gaze. “Because I knew I didn’t need it.”

  His mind hazed over.

  He couldn’t think up a pithy one-liner, couldn’t summon sweet words. Instead, he could only focus on how desperately he needed her to come on his tongue. So, he spread her thighs farther, bent, and pressed his mouth to her pussy. His cock twitched at the first taste of her, sweeter than the banana pie he’d brought, but then her hands were in his hair, tugging him closer, and Sam focused solely on Haley, on what made her groan and rub more firmly against him, on what made her breath catch, on what had her crying out.

  He flicked his tongue against her clit and was rewarded by a moan. A finger inside and curling upward had her hips undulating, but she really liked it when he spread her wide and just licked her.

  “Sam—mmm.” Her head fell back to the cushions, her hips jerked forward. “Fuck. Mmm. I—”

  He slipped his fingers under her ass and yanked her closer, flicking his tongue, licking her faster and faster until her hands tightened almost painfully in his hair.

  And then he nipped.

  Haley screamed as she came.

  Fuck, but was that the best noise ever.

  Her dress was shoved up around her hips, her pussy bare and glistening, her eyes were closed, a blush dusting the tops of her cheeks. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  Ever. Hands down.

  His heart pulsed.

 
; Because he loved her.

  Of course, he loved her.

  What wasn’t there to love?

  For all the attraction, for all the lust raging inside him, Sam wanted Haley because she was as beautiful inside as she was on the outside.

  Her eyes flicked open.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” he murmured.

  “Hi, yourself,” she said lazily, dropping her hands, which had still been in his hair, to his shoulders. “Come here.”

  He leaned up and kissed her.

  “Nice surprise?” she asked when they broke apart.

  “Nice surprise,” he agreed and slid his hand up her bare thigh. “Very nice surprise.”

  “Good. Sam—” She sat up when his fingers teased the wet heat of her, nearly knocking her head against his.

  “Shh,” he said, shifting so he could gather her into his arms. “Now that I know what you like”—he stood—“I need to perfect my technique.”

  Haley groaned. “Good God that was terrible.”

  Sam suckled her bottom lip. “So, that’s a no?”

  “Fuck no, it’s not a no,” she said. “Your mouth on my pussy was perfect. It’s your pickup lines that need work.”

  This woman. He had a boner that was aching and desperate, his every muscle tense, his mind hazed with desire, and still she made him laugh.

  “I love you,” he blurted.

  Her face—fuck, but her face fell.

  So, he kissed her.

  Before she could really hear the words and panic, so she didn’t pull back before he could prove himself. She met his tongue stroke for stroke, held him tightly as he walked them down the hall to her bedroom. But she tore her lips from his when he set her on the mattress. “Sam—”

  He kissed her again.

  Because he was the one panicking now. All his plans had been ruined with one blurted sentence. She would—

  Haley turned her face from his, placed her hand over his mouth when he would have pressed it to hers again. “I—” He slid his hand back up her thigh, slipped fingers between. In.

  “Sam—”

  He knocked her hand aside and kissed her with every single one of the feelings that were roiling within him. If only he could convince her that—

  “No!”

  Sam froze, saw her face and jumped off her.

  “Shit. Haley.” He turned away, thrusting a hand through his hair. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’ll—”

  “Will you shut the fuck up and listen to me?” she snapped, and cold tore through his every cell. He’d been here before. He put himself out there, and women didn’t feel the same, and now he’d fucked up with Haley, and—

  “Sam. Look at me.”

  He always took it like a man.

  This time wouldn’t be any different.

  No matter that Haley made him feel more than all the other women combined.

  He straightened his shoulders, spun around. He wouldn’t make a scene. He’d go and leave her to her life and—

  “I love you, too.”

  Her words were a gut punch, but the best kind.

  “Oh.”

  Not the most eloquent response, but fuck, Haley loved him, too? How? Fuck. It was—

  “Hey.” She snapped her fingers. “Did I kill you?”

  He shook his head, opened his mouth.

  “Good,” she interrupted. “Now, get back down here and don’t renege on your promise of more oral sex.”

  Sam started to reply, started to ask if she was all right, to double check she was with him, but then Haley spread her legs and slid her fingers down between her thighs.

  Fuck it all.

  Talking could wait.

  Twenty-Three

  Haley

  * * *

  Sam definitely didn’t renege on the oral sex front. He parked himself between her thighs and licked her until she absolutely lost her mind.

  And then exploded into orgasm.

  Twice.

  But when he went to press his mouth to her after her third orgasm, she halted him with her hands on his shoulders. “Not on your life, mister.”

  “Mmm.” He licked his lips. “I think I can convince you otherwise.”

  Haley shuddered. “My clit can’t take it.”

  A brush of his fingers made her groan. “I think it can.”

  She let him stroke her once, okay three, okay maybe ten times more. But just as she was really starting to lose her mind, she reached into her nightstand and pulled out a condom.

  “No, it can’t. Here.” She tore the packet open with her teeth and shoved it at him. “Inside me. Now.”

  Hesitation was rampant in his expression. “Maybe we should wait—”

  Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

  She snaked her hand down and flicked open the button on his jeans. “Hal—oh, fuck—”

  Oh, fuck was right because he was hot and hard and velvety.

  “Yes.” She slid herself down, executing a move that was quite acrobatic considering her bum foot, thank her very much.

  “What—” His protest cut off as Haley sucked him into her mouth. “Fuck.” He groaned. “Baby, I—”

  She gripped him with both hands and stroked.

  Sam dropped his forehead to the bed above her shoulder, hips thrusting. But he only let her caress him for all of two heartbeats before he was tugging her hand away, tossing her back up onto the pillows. The condom was on a second later, and . . . he paused.

  “You sure—”

  Nope. No more talking. No way. No how.

  Haley wrapped her good leg around his hip, lifted herself up, and—oh . . . God . . . yes—slid him inside of her.

  He shuddered, locked his eyes onto hers. “Haley.”

  Just her name, but somehow a thousand emotions sewn into those five letters.

  And she felt every single one of them, too, in her soul, her mind, her heart.

  “I know,” she murmured, reaching up to cup his face. “I know.”

  Because this was so much more than just an act. This meant something.

  It meant everything.

  “Kiss me,” she said. “Show me.”

  And he did.

  Sam pressed his lips to hers and began to move.

  “About time you got your ass back in here!” Roxy said, rounding the high counter of the nurse’s station to hug Haley on Friday the following week. “I’ve missed you. How’s the leg?”

  Haley gestured to her cast-covered ankle. “Still broken, but I’ve only got a few more weeks to go.”

  Roxy leaned against her desk, smoothed the long black tail of her hair over one shoulder. “Well, I hear that convalescence agrees with you.”

  Haley picked up a file, pretended to be firmly engrossed in the patient report she’d already read once. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Lies.” Roxy plunked into the empty chair. “But I’m not going to pressure you, not when I can just get the gossip from Esther.”

  “Oh lord.” Haley dropped the file.

  The little old lady was trouble of epic proportions, and Haley and Sam’s budding relationship was her preferred brand of trouble at the moment. She’d livestreamed their return to the diner—her words, not Haley’s—then had featured their subsequent movie date, evening shopping trip, dinner at Melissa and Rob’s, and even their visit to Roosevelt Ranch so Sam could perform an ultrasound on Kelly’s horse on the town’s Facebook group.

  Stella was ten weeks along, fitting in with the timeline of Justin’s horse menses faux pas.

  Which was a statement Haley would have never thought she’d hear, let alone think.

  Still, Kelly was thrilled, albeit very much a nervous horse mom. That in and of itself was hilarious, considering her job was running the breeding program. But Haley understood that some things couldn’t be kept at a distance. She had a hard time seeing patients as simply patients sometimes—case in point, Melissa, who’d been her patient before she’d become her friend.

  Bec
ause of that, Haley wasn’t going to tease Kelly . . . not too much anyway.

  Besides, she’d really enjoyed seeing Sam in action, loved how confident and capable he was when handling both Kelly and Stella, soothing both anxious females, human and horse, with equal aplomb. So, she was going to keep her mouth closed and try not to get banned from future veterinary house calls.

  She’d also wondered why he didn’t have pets of his own, considering how good he was with them. He’d always had a menagerie of cats, dogs, miniature pigs, and even geckos during high school and college.

  Sam had shrugged when she asked. “I had to put my last dog down a few years ago, and I just decided that I’d wait until I had more spare time before I got another one. Plus, and this will sound bad, but after taking care of everyone else’s animals all day, sometimes I just want to go home and not worry about anything but myself.”

  “That makes total sense,” she’d told him. “Sometimes I just want to leave someone choking when I see them in a restaurant because I want to not worry about anything.”

  He’d almost swerved the truck off the road, so quickly his gaze had snapped to hers.

  “I joke,” she’d said, palms facing out.

  Sam had scowled. “Not funny.” A pause before his lips twitched. “Is this part of that dark ER humor?”

  “Probably.” She’d winced. “No, definitely.”

  “Noted,” he said, but had rubbed the dashboard of his new SUV lovingly. “You are also now banned from joking while driving.”

  A nod. “No JWD. Got it.”

  And in one of those perfect moments, he’d laced his fingers through hers and glanced down at her, hazel eyes a warm mix of brown and gold and green. “I love you.”

  Her breath had caught, her heart fluttered, and she’d said, “I love you, too.”

  Simple moments and yet they meant so much. He was just—

  “Earth to Haley Bear!” Roxy called, bumping Haley’s chair with her own. “Shake off the Sam fog and get to work.”

  Since she was technically off the clock and waiting for Sam to come pick her up, Haley wasn’t exactly worried about her productivity. What concerned her more was the fact that the nickname Haley Bear had apparently caught on.