Her Forbidden Cowboy

by Charlene Sands

  “Don’t,” he said.

  “Why? Are you feeling dizzy?”

  He shook his head, and his arm tightened around her shoulder. She was trapped in his warmth, his heat. And as she gazed up into his eyes, they cleared. Just like that. The haze that seemed to keep him in a woozy state was gone. “No. I’m feeling pretty damn good. Because you’re here with me. Because I can’t get you out of my head.”

  As if his own weight was too much to bear, he sat down, taking her with him. She plopped on the bed, and the mattress sighed. Streaming moonlight filtered into the room, and their reflection in the window bounced back at her. Two souls, searching for something that they’d lost. Was that what the attraction was?

  “Are you drunk?” she asked.

  “Not too much anymore.” He pushed aside her hair at her nape, his touch as gentle as a Texas breeze. He nipped her there, his teeth scraping around to the top of her throat and the sensation claimed all the breath in her lungs.

  “You sobered up fast,” she whispered, barely able to form a coherent thought. Having his delicious mouth taking liberties on her neck was pure heaven.

  “I know when I want something.”

  His nips were heady, and she tilted her head to the side, offering him more of her throat. “Wh-what do you want?”

  With his good hand under her chin, he turned her head, and then his lips were on hers, pressing firm against her softness, igniting fireworks that started with her brain and rushed all the way down to her belly. She turned to him, roping her arm around his neck, kissing him back. He smelled like pure male animal, his scent mingling with whiskey and heat. Her breasts perked up, and her nipples pebbled against the silky material of her dress.

  “I want to kiss you again and again,” he rasped over her lips. “I want to touch your body and have you touch mine. I need you, too. So badly, sweetheart.”

  Oh, wow. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. A fierce physical attraction pulled at her like a giant magnet. She couldn’t fight the force or the combustible chemistry between them. And Zane didn’t give her time to refuse. With his left hand, he began unbuttoning his shirt and did a lousy job of slipping the buttons free until she came to his rescue.

  “Let me.” She shoved his hand away and quickly finished for him. With his shirt open now, his chest was a work of art, muscled and bronzed. She itched to touch him, to put her hands exactly where he wanted her to. She inhaled, and as she released a breath, she spread her palms over his hot, moist skin. From the contours of his waist up his torso to where crisp chest hairs tickled the underside of her fingers, she savored each inch of him.

  A guttural groan exploded in the room, and she wasn’t sure if she’d made that sound, but one look into Zane’s eyes darkened by desire and she knew it wasn’t her.

  He was on fire. His skin sizzled hot and steamy, his breathing hitched and all of that combined was enough to blanket her body with burning heat. “We can’t,” she said softly.

  She had to say it. Because of Janie. Because of Steven. She and Zane were both trying to heal, but none of that resonated right now. None of it seemed powerful enough to derail the sensations whipping them into a frenzied state.

  Maybe this was what both of them needed.

  One night.

  His mouth claimed her again as he lay down on the bed, tugging her along with him. She fell beside him. Promptly he snaked his arm under her waist and flipped her on top of him.

  She had his answer. Yes, they could.

  His good hand cupped her cheek, and his eyes bored into her. “Don’t question this, Jess. Not if it’s what you want right now.”

  That was Zane. The man who didn’t plan for the future anymore, the man who’d said it was better sometimes not to know where you were going. And Jessica certainly didn’t have a clue what her future held or where the heck she was going from here.

  But she knew what she wanted tonight.

  How could she not? Her breasts were crushed against Zane’s chest, her body trembling and so ready for whatever would come next. Zane was a good, decent man who also happened to be sexy as sin but he had also been her sis— She stopped thinking. Enough. She might talk herself out of this. “It’s what I want.”

  He gave her a serious smile and kissed her again, his lips soft and tender, taking his time with her, making her come apart in small doses.

  In the moment, Jessica gave herself permission to let go completely. He pushed the straps down on her dress and her breasts popped free of restraint. Zane caressed her, running his hand over her sensitive skin, lightly touching one wanton crest that seemed made for his touch.

  A deep moan rose from her throat. She closed her eyes and enjoyed every second of his tender ministrations. “You have a beautiful body, sweetheart,” he said, then rose up to place his mouth over one breast, his tongue flicking the nub, wetting it in a flurry of sweeps. He moved to the other side and did the same, a little more frenzied, faster, rougher. She squealed, the exquisite pain sending shock waves down past her belly.

  Zane reacted with a jerk of his hips. “Get naked for me, Jess.”

  She pulled her dress over her shoulders, and he helped as much as he could to lift it the rest of the way off. She gave it a gentle toss to the floor and straddled him, bare but for her panties, and looking into eyes that seemed distant for a moment. “Are you sure about this?” he rasped, his brows gathering.

  He was giving her a way out, but she was in too deep now. Her body hummed from his touch and the promise of the pulsing manhood beneath her. She wanted more...she wanted it all.

  She was the new Jess.

  “I’m sure, Zane.”

  He nodded and blew out a breath in apparent relief, but there was something else. A part of him seemed undecided. It was only a feeling she had, a vibe that worried her in some small part of her consciousness. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

  The new Jess wasn’t a thinker. She was a doer.

  She bent to his mouth, her sensitized nipples reaching his chest first. He bucked under her. “Oh, man, babe.” She smiled at him and opened her mouth, coaxing his tongue to play with hers. His strokes made her dizzy, and her desire for him soared. She was almost ready. She reached for his zipper.

  “No,” he said. He gently rolled her to her side and leaned over her. “There might be something I’m good at with my left hand.”

  A smile broke out on her face, but Zane wiped the smile away the second his fingers probed inside her panties. He cupped her there, and a melodic sigh escaped her throat. He kissed her, swallowing the rest of her sounds as he stroked her with deft fingers. Her body moved, arched, reached as he became more and more merciless. “Zane,” she cried.

  She climbed over the top immediately, her limbs shaking, her breathing quickened and labored. A drawn-out, piercing scream rang from her throat. She was cocooned in heat. Zane held her patiently while her tingles ebbed and she came down to earth.

  “Reach over to the bed stand, sweetheart,” he said as she caught her breath. “Dig deep in the drawer.” He nuzzled her ear and said softly, “It’s been a while.”

  Seconds later, with a little of her help, he was sheathed. She reeled from the passion she witnessed in his eyes. It wasn’t lust, but something more. Something she could feel good about when she remembered this night. They were connected, always had been, and right now all things powerful in the universe were pulling her toward this man.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  As she nodded, boldly she lifted her leg over his waist to straddle him. Both of his hands came around her back, encouraging her to lean down. She did, and he pressed a dozen molten kisses to her mouth before he set her onto him.

  Instinctively she rose up, and he helped guide her down. The tip of his shaft teased her entrance, and she closed her eyes.

  “So beautiful,” she hea
rd him say softly as he filled her body.

  They moved together as one, his thrusts setting the pace. Her heart beat rapid-fire; she was in the Zane zone now and offered to him everything he wanted to take.

  He was all she could ever hope for in a lover. His kiss drove her crazy, and he was more adept with one good hand than the men she’d known in the past who’d had the use of both. He explored her body with tender kisses and bold touches, with harmonious rhythm and unexpected caresses. He was wild and tender, sweet and wicked. And when he pressed her for finality that he seemingly couldn’t hold back another second, her release astonished and satisfied her. “Wow,” she whimpered, her body still buzzing. She lay sated and spent on the bed.

  “Yeah, babe. Wow.” Zane sighed heavily, an uncomplicated sound telling her how much pleasure she’d brought him. She wasn’t sorry. She had no regrets. But then, she hadn’t let her mind wander since she’d entered Zane’s bedroom. She didn’t want to think. Not now.

  Zane wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into him, and soon the sound of his quiet breaths steadied. With all that he’d consumed tonight, there was no reason to hope that he would wake soon.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the safety and serenity the night brought to her.

  * * *

  Zane’s eyes snapped open to the ceiling above. It was funny how the crater-like texture seemed odd to him this morning. He’d never noticed it before. Back home, solid wood beams supported the house. The rich smell of pines and oaks and cedar lent warmth and gave him a true sense of belonging. He missed home, longed for it actually, but how in hell could he complain? He lived in a rich man’s paradise, on a sandy windswept beach with dazzling pastel sunsets and beautiful people surrounding him.

  He didn’t have to look over to know Jess wasn’t beside him on the bed. He’d heard her exit the room in the wee hours of the morning. He should’ve stopped her. He should’ve reached out and tugged her back to bed. If he had, she’d be here with him now, and he would nestle into her warmth again.

  Sweet Jess. Sexy Jess.

  Oxygen pushed out of his lungs. He was still feeling the effects of last night. The alcohol, the soft woman—the entire night played back in his mind. He was in deep now.

  He hinged his body up and swiveled his feet over the bed to meet with the floor. He made a grab for his crutches that lay against the wall and luckily hung on to them. Rising, still wearing the pants he’d worn last night, he ambled from the bedroom to the living room. From there, he spotted Jess pressed against the deck railing in a pair of sexy shorts and a ruffled blouse, gazing out to sea. It was just after dawn, and the beach was empty but for a few seagulls milling about. Low curling waves splashed against the shore almost silently. It was a beautiful time of day.

  Made even more beautiful by his golden-haired houseguest.

  As quietly as a man on crutches could, he made his way out the double French doors and headed toward her. Her concentration was intense, and she didn’t hear him approach until he was behind her. He put his crutches near the wall and braced his arms on the railing, trapping her in his embrace.

  She stood with her back to his chest. Her hair whipped in the breeze and tickled his cheeks as he nibbled on her nape. She tasted like a woman who’d had a delicious night of sex. She smelled like a woman who’d been sated and well loved. He breathed her in. “Mornin’, Jess.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Wish you hadn’t left my bed. Wish you were still in there with me.”

  As she nodded, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “I don’t know what we’re doing,” she said softly.

  “Helping each other heal, maybe.” He nipped the soft skin under her ear. “All I know is, I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. And that’s because of you.”

  “It’s only because I remind you of—”

  “Home.” He wouldn’t allow her to think for a second she was a replacement for his dead wife. He wasn’t certain in his own mind that wasn’t the case—her transformation last night had knocked the vinegar out of him, she’d looked so much like Janie—but he didn’t want Jess believing it. What kind of a scoundrel would that make him? “But it’s more than that. You remind me of the good things in my life.”

  “You’re romanticizing about Beckon. It’s really not all that.”

  In a way, they were both in the same situation. She’d had her heart broken. Of course she wouldn’t look upon home with fond memories now. He couldn’t go home because it wouldn’t be the same. He blamed himself for Janie’s death, and the guilt wracked him ten ways to Sunday, each and every day. “Maybe you’re right, sweetheart.”

  Memories being what they were, he couldn’t deny he held Beckon close to his heart. But he didn’t need to win this round with Jessica today.

  “I don’t have a single regret about last night. Well, except that I had the damn boot and cast still on.”

  She turned away from the ocean and captured his attention with her pretty fresh-meadow eyes. “Not one, Zane? Not one regret?”

  He blinked at the intensity of her question. This was important to her. “No.”

  What he had were doubts. He wasn’t ready for anything heavy, with her or anyone else. The thought of entering into a relationship gave him hives. He might never be ready. He’d removed himself from any thoughts of the future and lived in the present. He’d shut himself off for two years. It was safe. His haven of sanity.

  “Are you regretting what happened last night?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her answer.

  Her chin lifted as she thought about it for an eternity of seconds. “Regret isn’t the right word. I think you’re right. We both needed each other.”

  “We don’t have to attach any labels to last night,” Zane said. “It just happened.” He wanted it to happen again. But it wasn’t his decision. He was smart enough to know that.

  “But where do we go from here?”

  Breezes blew her hair off her shoulders, the golden strands dancing in the morning light. Her face was clean of makeup, glowing with a fresh-washed look. All of Zane’s impulses heightened.

  “First,” he said, dipping his head to her mouth, “I give you a good morning kiss.” He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her soundly. She made a tiny noise in the back of her throat that made him smile inside. He could kiss her until the sun set and wouldn’t tire of it. He inched away from her face as her eyes opened, glowing with warmth. God, she was sweet. “If you’re inclined to do some cooking this morning, we have breakfast. Mrs. Lopez doesn’t work on Sunday. And then we do whatever comes natural. No pressure, Jess.”

  He’d had sex with Janie’s younger sister. He should be beating himself up about that now, but oddly he wasn’t. He couldn’t figure the why of it. Why was being with Jess making him feel better about himself instead of worse? He had nothing to offer her but strong arms to hold her and a warm body to comfort her, if she needed them. He couldn’t pursue her. It wouldn’t be fair to her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her.

  A soft, relieved breath blew from her lips. “That sounds good to me, Zane.” She gave him a sweet smile and handed him his crutches. “Meet me in the kitchen in half an hour.”

  His gaze landed on the curvy form of her backside as she strode inside the house. He hung his head. Oh, man. He was in deep.

  Life at 211 Moonlight Drive wasn’t going to get any easier.

  Seven

  Two and a half months after his accidental fall off a Los Angeles stage, Zane had gotten a good report from his doctor. His foot had healed nicely and was now out of the cast. His wrist had taken longer than expected to heal, but that, too, was in great shape and cast-free. Jessica was almost as relieved as he was, hearing the news today after driving him to his appointment. Zane had never gotten used to the crutches and now, with a little physical t
herapy, he’d be back to normal, good as new. And her duties wouldn’t be so up close and personal with him any longer. She could concentrate on work and try to forget about making love with him two nights ago.

  The new Jess would’ve let it go by now.

  But traces of the old Jess were resurfacing, and she wanted to kick her to the curb. Falling in love with Zane would be a bonehead stupid move. He was still in love with Janie, and nothing much could persuade her otherwise. How could she be sure that the night they’d had sex wasn’t more about her resemblance to her sister than any intense affection Zane had for her?

  “I feel like celebrating,” Zane said as she drove toward the gates of his home.

  “I bet you do. But you can’t go dancing just yet. You have to get through physical therapy.”

  From out of the corner of her eye, she spied Zane flexing his hand. “I’m fine. Just dandy. Even wearing my own boots for a change.”

  She took her eyes off the road for a split second to gaze at his expensive boots. Snakeskin. Gorgeous. Studded black leather. They made her mouth water. “You do know you live on the beach. Sandals are expected. Even admired.”

  A belly laugh rolled out of his mouth. “I could say the same about you. Lately, you’ve been wearing those highfalutin heels.”

  “Me?” Yes, it was true. The new Jess wore pricey heels when she wasn’t in her morning walk tennis shoes.

  “Yeah, you. Admit it. You’re happier in a pair of soft leather boots with flat heels than those skyscrapers you’ve taken to wearing. Not that I mind. You look hot in those heels.”

  The compliment lit her up inside, but she couldn’t let him see how it affected her. She lowered her sunglasses and gave him a deadpan look.

  He grinned.

  The man was in a great mood today, happier than she’d seen him in days. It was certainly better than putting up with his sourpuss, like on Sunday afternoon when he’d balked at her going to Dylan’s house for the screening of Time of Her Life. She’d thought he’d be okay with it. After all, he’d said to do what came natural, and she had promised Dylan she’d be there. When she’d walked in past nine, missing dinner with him, he’d been sullen and distant, none too pleased with her.