by Billi Jean
With that sassy remark she smiled up at him and patted her leg for the dog in the back of the truck. It sailed over the edge and raced for her, saying hi to Rowdy on the way, then looked at him once and dismissed him.
“Sadie is so smart, isn’t she?” Kristen cooed, rubbing the dog’s head. “Come in, boys, or stay out, but no bloodshed.”
Robert eyed Sam, and the big cowboy grinned. “I guess if you’re a friend of Kris’s then you’re worth sharing coffee with,” he said, tucking his hunting rifle back in his truck with a low laugh.
Damn old fart would have shot him, too. And Robert’s guns were… He scanned the snow around the cabin, pretty sure it looked like ten feet worth of snow, knowing his guns were under it…somewhere. If Sam could get up here, then others could as well. Time was running out. He turned his focus back to the man interrupting his alone time with Kris.
He met the old man’s gaze when he reached the porch and shook his hand. The old guy had a good grip and took a bit longer than necessary to size him up. He must have passed, though, because he let go of his hand and smacked his shoulder. A pinch of pain ran down Robert’s side but he’d rather kiss the old guy than let him know he’d just landed a blow on his wounded side. Hell, he probably knew.
“Coming inside?” he asked with another grin.
Robert nodded and followed him inside, feeling like he’d just stepped straight into a bear trap. He didn’t doubt for a second that this man was held in high regard by Kris. He’d heard the affection in her voice and knew if the old cowboy thought him unworthy, Kris would hear all about it every chance Sam got.
Kristen looked up when he walked in and handed him a cup of coffee straight away with a smile. “Drink this and do not drink the stuff in the coffee pot,” she whispered.
He took the advice and coffee and felt the pressure on his chest lessen from her closeness. She didn’t act as if she had to hide their relationship. She poured Sam a cup of coffee and he realised he’d been worried about more than Sam’s good opinion of him.
The time was drawing to an end with Kris, only for a few days if he had his way, but still, he worried she’d brush this off—him—and go back to her life before he’d arrived. Hide maybe the way she felt about him in front of Sam, at least. Instead she caught his eye behind Sam’s back and frowned at him and made a rolling gesture with her hands and mouthed the word, talk.
Talk? To an old rancher?
“So, when did you arrive, Robert? I’ve not seen you around before,” Sam asked.
He caught Kristen smacking her forehead like he’d just made a fatal mistake by letting the old man speak first.
“I’ve never seen anyone here, well, that brother of hers, but that lazy guy didn’t stay long. I think Kris made him do chores and he left straight away. You ever worked on a ranch before?”
“Yeah, I have,” Robert managed, when Sam paused to take a sip of hot coffee.
Sam nodded and clicked his teeth together. “Yeah, I thought so. Military, too, am I right?”
“Yes, sir. For a bit.”
“He’s fooling you, Sam. Robert is a hero, just like you. He served in Iraq, Afghanistan, and still sticks his neck out for us. I suppose he has to stop sometime, but ever since I’ve known him, he’s been fighting to keep us all safe.”
“Good for you. That’s a man’s work, keeping our country safe.”
Robert felt his neck grow warm at Kristen’s words and the old man’s rough agreement. Did she really see him like that? A hero? The thought made him feel uncomfortable.
“He doesn’t like compliments, Sam, so ease off on those and the twenty questions,” Kristen said. She had her back to them, but he heard the fondness in her tone and settled down to wait for more of Sam’s questions. She was warming up maple syrup in a glass jar on the stove, giving him hope she was making something as wonderful as it smelt. She turned to set the small jar down and winked at him. “Just remember Sam is nosey, Robert, and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m not nosey, girl, I just have a lot to say,” Sam grumbled, setting his coffee down with a smile.
“You can ask me whatever you’d like, Sam,” Robert assured the old guy. He’d answer anything, even if he had to lie.
Kristen smiled, surely catching on that he would, but gave his shoulder a squeeze all the same, like he’d done something good, and turned back to the counter. He watched her start pouring batter on a hot grill, amazed all over again by her.
She made cooking seem easy when he knew it wasn’t. Everything she made was delicious. He knew he’d eaten the stew she’d made, which would have probably lasted her the weekend, all in one night. But she’d watched him with a soft expression and told him that she liked seeing him enjoy her cooking. She’d said it like no one ever had. How could that be?
The old man sitting across from him was no fool. He was here for the food, and whatever she put in his cup. He eyed the man’s black coffee and thought he smelt something like that god-awful instant stuff he’d been forced to drink in the service. His own coffee was rich, with a nutty sweet flavour he knew came from fresh beans.
“Damn, those smell good. I didn’t come to eat, though,” Sam said, gesturing to the window above her kitchen table. “This is tapering off, but I heard there’s more tomorrow, so I thought I’d best make sure your way down the mountain was clear at least for now.”
“Really?” she asked, flipping hot pancakes on two plates. “More?”
His mouth watered to the point where he sipped his coffee to stop himself from reaching out and taking one off the plate. Had he ever had homemade pancakes? Mandy had made them with him as a kid, he suddenly remembered. She’d been impatient and had flipped them too soon, splattering batter all over the wall behind the griddle, but they’d eaten the gooey things anyway. The memory brought with it the familiar tug to his heart at the loss of seeing his sister.
“Here you go, bacon’s on the plate and eat those eggs while they’re still warm,” Kristen whispered, pulling him out of his past with a smile.
Warm pancakes, four or five sides of bacon and a plate with two over-easy eggs were placed right under his nose and Kristen did the same for Sam, adding butter to the table with a quick turn back to the griddle.
Damn.
“Eat quick, she adds more and messes with the syrup and butter balance every time,” Sam leaned over to whisper so loudly that he knew Kristen had heard him but she merely sniffed and tucked her hair behind her ear.
Robert swallowed past an odd restriction in his throat, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions he had no idea what to do with. Kristen flipped the next batch of pancakes and turned to give him a sweet smile and squeezed his shoulder again.
“You’re not eating?” he asked.
“I will in just a minute, but I have to make these first, and they’re always best fresh off the pan. Eat, eat.”
Sam poured syrup on his stack, passed him the glass jar, and nodded. “Eat up, boy, they won’t bite.”
Robert spread butter on his first then poured a thick layer of syrup over it all. His first bite was so good he ate until only the last bite was left. Suddenly he remembered he’d not complimented the cook. “Good, they’re real good, Kristen.”
She laughed and plopped another stack down. “I gathered that by the way you inhaled them. Slow down, there’s plenty more.” She placed a loaded plate of them down, and took a seat on the bench next to him instead of the chair between him and Sam. “I’m glad you like them, though.”
“Like is a poor word. They’re delicious,” he assured her and reached under the table to rub her leg. “The best I’ve ever had.”
“It’s that bit of cornmeal she adds. Took me forever to realise why they were so damn good. No one cooks like Kristen, not that you can tell by how damn tiny she is. I think she cooks just to give it all away.”
“I do not. I like to cook, so I cook.”
Robert nodded. He could see that in her. She found small things to like, and did those. The hike
was probably one of them. The cooking, the chores, those were all manageable, but any time he tried to talk to her about what they were doing, to bring up more than just the moment, she shied away. He’d not forgotten that first morning when she’d smelt like she’d been drinking, or the bottles of Jack Daniel’s and tequila he’d found in the cabinets. She lived in a very controlled moment, and he was pushing her out of that moment simply by being here.
She glanced at him and frowned slightly and he knew she would say what? Before she did, he stopped her. “You should always do what you like, Kris, especially if it’s this good.”
Sam laughed and Kristen joined him after a moment.
“Why, thank you,” she said, forking two pancakes from the stack.
He piled more onto his own plate and dug in, enjoying the meal so much he didn’t even mind Sam’s questions. He answered a few, and dodged a few more, but noticed the man never brought up how long he was here for or when he’d arrived again. Robert’s opinion of the old man went up a notch, especially when Kristen’s laugh sounded throughout the cabin at his jokes. She cared for the man, and he could tell the old geezer thought of her like a daughter. He was certain that before Sam left the cabin, he’d have some words for Robert, alone, without Kristen there to hear.
Didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to leave her, at least not for long. The roads were clear now, so he knew he had to go, and maybe she knew as well, but she gave no sign of it throughout the meal. But the more he thought on the odd morning, the more he knew she had probably taken that walk because she knew he was leaving.
If nothing else happened today to interrupt them, he was sitting her down and telling her what the deal was—and that deal was him staying right here. He could give her back her happiness, a little at a time, until the pain grew less. And when the pain rose up too high, he’d be there, holding her, and soothing her any way he could.
Hell, he might just make love to her so much she’d be too tired to feel sad.
“Don’t you want some of these?” he asked, passing her the bowl of strawberries.
“No thank you, I prefer plums,” she said.
His groin snapped to attention so fast he had to shift his legs to give the swelling room. She wasn’t done there, though. She met his eyes with a sexy little stare that he felt clear to his toes. “They’re always so much firmer and riper, and the sweetness of them just satisfies my cravings so much better, although I like them harder than most.”
Sweat broke out on his back, and he pulsed to a full hard-on.
She settled a small hand on his thigh, torturing him even more.
“Are you all finished with your breakfast?”
He nodded and pushed his plate away, then took her hand under the table and squeezed it over his erection. “I am, how about you? Ready for some chores?”
“Always,” she said with a smile.
Sam grunted across from him and got his attention. “There’s always chores to do. You two should relax because this next storm is supposed to be worse.”
Robert trapped her hand in his and tried to concentrate on Sam’s words. “Are the roads a bear?”
“Pretty rough, but they’ll be worse after this next round if we don’t keep up. I see you all have caught up to the snow pretty well here. I guess you’ll need me to plough back down once more then you can risk the Jeep, if you need to reach town, but best wait another two, three hours before you do.”
“Why?” he asked.
“That’ll give the sun time to help out a little,” Sam offered. “But best head down before early afternoon.”
“We’ll do that,” he assured Sam. He’d have to and the more he thought about it the more he knew he’d take Kris with him, just to be sure she was safe. “By two we should head down, don’t you think?” he asked Kris, trying to temper his raging hard-on with logic.
Kristen wiggled her hand free of his and stroked firmly down his swelling erection while she leaned a shoulder into his, gaining every ounce of his attention off anything but her.
“Right, but Robert can help you. He’s very big that way,” she said, stroking her hand up and down him to the point where he had to grab her or risk embarrassing himself. She was offering his help. The brat. How the hell was he going to stand?
“I don’t need help,” Sam grumbled. “He can help you by doing the dishes, huh?” Sam laughed and stood with a loud scrape of his chair.
Kristen pulled free and stood as well, using his shoulder to steady herself and when Sam turned, she brushed a hot kiss to his ear. “I am very hungry still, Robert.”
He swore his body pulsed at the promise in her eyes.
Louder she said, “You stay right there, while I walk Sam out. I know you already shovelled, so have more,” she loaded his plate again and winked at him. “And I’ll be right back.”
Sam nodded. “Damn right. You fill up then help her out, but the place looks good. Did you manage to fix that front door, too?”
Robert cleared his throat before he could guarantee he wouldn’t sound like he was struggling with a hard-on. “I did. It was fairly simple.”
“He can fix anything,” Kristen told Sam. “But right now he’s going to eat up so he’s ready for more chores.”
He slathered on butter like he was going to eat the stack in front of him and tried to keep his mind off Kris’ knowing smile.
“It’s been nice to meet you, Sam,” he said, setting down his fork and leaning up but keeping his hips out of sight. He reached out to shake Sam’s hand. “I’ll stay here and follow orders, if that’s okay?”
“Sure thing, you do that. A man needs to keep his body going. I’ll see you again, I’m sure,” he tacked on with a meaningful look.
“I’m sure you will,” Robert said, releasing his hand and sitting back down carefully. His dick was so trapped he worried it might be damaged from the tight pressure of his pants.
“Come on, enough of that,” Kristen called from the door. She’d opened and shut it a few times and smiled at him with such a look of happiness and, he hoped, a promise to ease the throb she’d caused that he forgave her every single bit of pain he was in. Nothing was like her mouth on him. Nothing. It was as though she soothed every painful experience he’d ever had with every loving stroke. She hit spots that he never knew he had, driving him into wanting a blow job from her more than he should.
“Damn good job,” Sam said admiring the door then gave him a wave. “Keep that up,” he said.
Since Robert wasn’t having trouble keeping it up, he nodded and sipped his coffee. As soon as they both walked out he groaned and shoved the bench back so he could unzip and free his erection. He was so hard the flesh was a dark brown, the rounded head already slick at the thought of her mouth. Instead of stroking, though, he stood, gripping the thick shaft to keep it under control. The butter caught his eye and with a grin, he picked it up and walked to the comfort of her couch. He loved the couch and not just because of what they’d done on it, it was damn comfortable too.
The memory of last night added to the anticipation of what he’d get right now as he sat down and spread his legs, keeping his pants unzipped but on and began smearing a slab of butter up and down the stalk. Within seconds, he had to slow his ass down. Just sitting there, with his dick out and stroking it with her right outside the door talking to Sam had him to the point where he had to stop or blow. He slowed his strokes right down when he heard her yell goodbye and the door opened.
Kristen stopped and looked at him like she could taste him already. Hell, he’d died and gone to heaven for certain because by the look in Kris’ dark eyes, she loved sucking his cock as much as he loved her doing it.
“Oh, baby,” she whispered with a smile that shot a dart of anticipation rolling down his stomach. “Is that for me?”
Kris didn’t just give him a blow job. She made him feel like she enjoyed making him insane with pleasure. He loved everything she did with that mouth of hers. And her hands, he thought, watching her clen
ch her fists at her sides. And body.
Her long-sleeved T-shirt was tight over her little breasts and he watched the nipples peak for him into hard points under the white cotton. Her long hair was up in a twisted mess that he wanted her to always wear so he could see her sexy eyes and admire her pink lips without the silk falling in his way.
He spread his legs and stroked up his cock, rubbing butter all over the head of it while she watched, seeming almost mesmerised. “Hell, darling, you know the answer to that. Always, but I thought you might like to try buttered this time,” he said, sounding husky with the lust thundering through him.
She shut the door without a word and toed her boots off, slowly peeling her T-shirt up over her head and threw it to the floor. The lacy black see-through bra was right out of his fantasies but so was the golden-skinned woman sliding out of her skin-tight yoga pants. She left her matching panties on but started walking towards him, stroking her stomach and up to her breasts when she did.
“Hell, darling, come here and give me some of that,” he told her.
With a small smile, she sank to her knees between his thighs and settled her hands on his legs. “I thought he’d never leave.”
“I thought you’d make me embarrass myself in my jeans,” he told her and bent down to sample her lips. She gripped his erection and slipped both hands up and down while she kissed him madly. “Ah, God, I want your mouth, you don’t have any idea do you, how much I want that mouth of yours on me? You feel so good, darling,” he said, “like you’re making love to my cock when you do.”
She smiled against his lips. “I am, Robert.”
“Do it again, darling. I’m begging you.”
“No,” she said with a catch to her voice, “you never have to beg, Robbie.”
He tried to follow what she said, but she slid down his body and back on her knees, taking the ability to think with her when her hot breath hit the tip of his anxious erection.
Chapter Sixteen
Kristen watched the way Robert’s eyes closed at her first slow lick along his buttery erection and felt a rush of awareness along her body. He was harder than she’d ever seen him, so turned on she thought he’d lose control within minutes. Heat warmed her mouth instantly when she sucked the rounded head in past her lips and further down to enjoy him.