by Selena Kitt
"Shhhh, it's okay. I know, baby," he cooed at her. "I lost my temper there for a bit, not something that happens often, let me tell you, and I think maybe now you just may not be so quick to put yourself in the line of fire so often. You know, for a spoiled brat you sure don't think of yourself much when it comes to real danger. You're great at pampering and fine dining, but you haven't a clue how to stay the hell away from situations that could cause you real harm. I guess it finally got to me, and this is the only way I could think of to get it into that lovely brain of yours." Jason slid his leg off her knees and helped her to a sitting position beside him on the bale.
Sniffling, Kathryn winced at the tenderness of her butt cheeks as she placed her substantial weight on them. "I don't know why you even care, Jason. Other than Daddy's money and the hefty amount you're sure to receive as long as you return me in one piece, what's the big deal?"
Jason stood and walked to the door of the stall where the new mother had welcomed the three abandoned pups as if they were her own. His back was rigid, his form completely unyielding as he let lose with a long, drawn out groan. "Kathryn, it's complicated. I apologize for the way I handled your discipline, but you seriously had it coming and I couldn't help myself any longer. I've watched you endanger yourself time and time again these last few weeks, and one can only imagine how you've made it this far in life without serious injury or worse. You needed a reality check, simple, and that's all it was. You got it, now maybe, just maybe you will think twice before getting yourself into anymore trouble."
Kathryn wiped the remaining tears and snot from her face with the muddied sleeve of her shirt, noticing she now had a slash in the fabric to go along with the smelly smears, and hoped she didn't look quite as horrible as she currently felt.
Feeling bold at his words, knowing this man actually cared for her as more than just a charge to be protected, gave her a confidence she'd never felt before. She decided it was now or never, she had to take the chance or she may end up walking out of here regretting it forever when all this stalker business was over with. Besides, this throbbing between her legs was killing her and there was something she could choose to do about it. Please. Let this work. Don't let me get shot down or I swear I will never, ever approach a man again. Time to take matters into my own hands, or in this case, hopefully Jason's hands, and for once in my life really take what I want, what I need.
Kathryn sighed loudly, and then straightening her spine, pushing her shoulders back in determination, she nodded even though she knew he wouldn't see. She pushed herself up off the hay bale and took two cautious steps in his direction, gathering her courage even more. "You're right, Jason. I promise to take better care of myself from now on. To be more aware of what is going on around me. I intend to live life like I've never lived it before," she resolved. "Starting right now."
* * *
He felt Kathryn slip her cool palms up his firm back, tracing the tight muscles that ran beneath his shoulder blades. He sucked in his breath as her full breasts pressed into his back and she slid her hands around his sides, down over his firm stomach, then down to his jeans and his cock, only slightly hard now.
Her breath in his hair at the back of his neck sent shivers down his spine and made his cock thicken so quickly it actually hurt him.
“I’m hungry, Jason,” she said against his neck, leaving no doubt about the nature of her hunger.
“I’m trying to control myself, Kathryn, but…” He pressed his lips together as her teeth scraped across his neck. “A man has limits.”
“I don’t want you to control yourself, Jason.” She dug her long, polished fingernails through his shirt to press roughly into his hips.
He hissed and spun around, grabbing her wrists in his large hand and holding them firm. “Kathryn,” He warned, the threat obvious in his gruff tone.
She gave him such a longing, innocent look he almost melted there and then.
Holding her wrists tightly, he started to push her away from him.
She twisted suddenly and her ass was then at a level with his groin, her arms now wrapped around herself with his hugging her. She rubbed her full ass up and down over his hips, moving in such a way the friction of his jeans against his hard, throbbing cock sent little electric shocks through him, making him almost lose his mind with the pleasure.
He leaned forward, inhaling the scent of her clean-smelling, mahogany hair mixed with the musty smell of mud and grass. "You need to get out of these wet clothes, take a shower. Your Daddy will have my head on a platter if any harm comes to you out here."
"Please, Jason. Stop pushing me away. I know what I want, what I need." She leaned back into his chest, her heat all but scorching even through the wet, mud-encrusted material.
“Kathryn, no. You do not want to do that. I’m supposed to protect you. My job is—”
"Jason, yes." She turned to face him, her mouth tucked up to the hollow at the base of his throat. She nipped at his Adam's apple, then his chin. Moving her full lips to tease the corner of his, her tongue flicking out to taste his bottom lip. "Jason," she murmured huskily against his still closed mouth, "Give me what I need, please." Her fingers went to the buttons of her tattered blouse. She slipped a pearly white button through the opening, then another, and another.
Jason’s world paused as he drew in a ragged breath. For three drawn out seconds he saw a sliver of an opening, a chance to walk away and leave both his job and his heart intact. Then she slid the curled edges of the flimsy material apart. One long look at her heated flesh, her dark, rosy nipples pushing against the now see through material of the sensible brassiere, and any hope of retreat dissipated. He was lost and he knew it. Fighting a battle he knew there was no way he could win. Mine.
“What is it you want, then?” he asked hoarsely.
The corner of her mouth rose, and her voice went low and husky. “Go down on me, Jason. Taste what you’ve been missing. Take what you want. What I want to give you. What I need to grant you.”
A flick of his thumb and forefinger removed the barrier of the front-opening clasp. Pushing aside the damp material, letting the bra fall to her supple sides, he bent his head to the softness of her breast, taking one stiff, straining nipple into his mouth. Her skin was soft against his lips, but the nipple thrust hard against his tongue. Gently, he swirled his tongue around its base, then lightly grazed its edge with his teeth.
Her soft moan sent shivers of need though his body. Jason tightened his hold on the thickness of her waist. He could spend the entire day right there, sucking, eternally sucking with her writhing beneath his hands. Nothing came close to the feel of her generous, soft body. Nothing.
'Taste what you’ve been missing.' Oh, he’d taste all right. He’d leave her a quivering, panting, satisfied mess–driven to the brink of insanity and coaxed back only by his touch.
The thought made him suck harder, while with his other hand he flicked her other beaded nipple. She moaned, squirming, but he framed her with his legs, pinning her to the door of the stall with his muscular thighs, rendering her helpless to his touch.
He groaned against her breast as his cock strained, throbbing and painful behind the tight fabric stretched across his hips. He paused without pulling away and closed his eyes, forcing his labored breathing to even out, to quiet his overwhelming desire.
She shifted and began to stroke his hair as her involuntary sounds of pleasure spurred him to fondle and suck again.
“Jason. I can’t take it. I can’t...”
His gripped her tightly, thumbs beneath her breasts and fingers splayed around her sides.
“Oh, but you will take it, won’t you?” he murmured in a gritty, commanding voice he hardly recognized as his own.
Her chest heaved with deep and difficult breaths as he trailed the tips of his fingers down each side of her body, grasped the edges of her slick, wet jeans, and roughly yanked them and her simple cotton undergarment to her ankles in one swift move. His breath hitched at the si
ght of her dark curls nestled tight to the apex of her thighs as the musky smell of her sex drifted toward him on the breeze.
He grasped her full backside. Then, using his booted foot to anchor the discarded clothing, he lifted her away from the sodden garments, placing her bare feet on a thick hay bale.
"Grab the beam over your head, Kathryn, and do not let go." he ordered, his voice gruff, hard, leaving no doubt he meant every word.
She raised her arms and did as he bid her, looking down over him with her eyes wide, curious, but she said not a word.
Jason grasped her broad hips and pulled her sex toward him, moving his hand to curl into the thatch of hair. He trailed one finger down to the crease and circled it slowly to trace over her folds.
He wouldn’t touch her clit just yet–he’d save that work for his tongue. For now, he let his fingers play over the tension he could feel in her blood-engorged sex.
So wet, so slippery and he'd only just begun. He ached to sink himself into her welcoming flesh. Not yet. No, not yet.
He ran his tongue down her belly, stopping just before he reached her pussy. He separated the folds and brought his face against her smooth, wet skin. His goal was seduction and pleasure until he’d coaxed out complete surrender. He wanted to drain her of every last ounce of her strength.
He blew gently against her heat, and she keened. Then, while sinking a slick finger where his cock so longed to be, he flicked the very edge of his wet tongue on the tip of her swollen clit.
Her head shot up and she arched, bucking her hips, and for a split second almost losing her grip on the wide beam above her.
He followed her movements, darting his tongue in warm circles around the tight bud.
She whimpered, howled, and shook as she released all the pent up tension, her desire covering his lips and chin.
As the last of her orgasm retreated in delicious spasms, Jason grasped her generous buttocks, buried his face against her belly and held her tight. A frightening truth lurked in the corner of his mind. What the hell was he doing? If he gave in to these emotions racing through him he would hurt her, destroy her future. Despite what he wanted in this, what he now knew he couldn't live without, she was innocent and likely didn't have the same long-term goals in mind where he was concerned. He needed to back off, now, before it was too late.
He memorized the sight of her flushed cheeks, her unfocused eyes, her sated and lethargic body, and imprinted the sensual view of her into his mind. God knew he’d use that image so many times in the future. Right now, though, he had to step away, and fast.
Slipping his arms behind her knees, he pulled her down from her perch and cradled her against his chest, regretting what he knew he had to do.
He groaned inwardly as she slid down his hips, brushing against the obvious firmness in his jeans, until her feet met the hay-covered floor.
"Grab your clothes and go have a shower, Kathryn. I have work to do." His gruff, cold tone grated on his nerves but he knew it was the only way. Ignoring the pain and disappointment that flashed across her features, he strode out of the barn, stubbornly refusing his every desire to look back and make sure she was okay.
9
Kathryn had asked Jeanette if she could cook Jason's dinner tonight, and the house manager had thrilled at the idea. Tossing her apron in Kathryn's direction, the woman had smiled and waved as she happily abandoned her post for an evening off, letting the screen door to the mud room slam in her wake.
She’d done her share of exploring the house these past few days since the incident in the barn and needed something else to do to distract her from the hurt. Jason had checked in on her often, but basically avoided her otherwise. Yet, each moment she spent in this house, his house with a masculine design to it, made the ache in her chest grow. The woods were warm or dark, the furniture oversized and rustic with western prints on the couch, rug, and matching wall hangings. She could smell him here, and each whiff made her core burn with a hunger for more. More of him. He wanted her. She'd witnessed the look in his eyes, the way they had darkened to almost black, along with the tenseness in his jaw line. Yes, she believed he saw her and actually wanted her, more than just a quick fling in the barn, but something held him back. Perhaps even something more than just her father or his job.
This hunger, this pure lust and desire, it built in her until the idea cooking for him had come to her, She'd make him feel obligated to sit down and eat with her, figuring it may be her only chance to get him alone and talk to him, or talk him into what she wanted from him. What she wanted after having his mouth on her was to taste him, each and every well-toned muscle, to feel him tense under her touch, but this time to be skin on skin. She’d break him down, but first she had to wow him with her culinary skill, basically gather his attention to her in another way first. That was the plan. All of those cooking classes she’d taken out of sheer boredom after she’d gotten out of boarding school may just pay off. Who could have guessed how, right? She'd certainly never imagined giving those sayings about the way to a man's heart being through his stomach any validity, but it sure seemed she was about to put its truth to the test.
Since she had all day to kill, she started early in the morning surveying the contents of the kitchen. Jeanette had it well stocked. Using her tablet, she searched for some authentic western recipes. She settled on baby back ribs, rubbing them down with a mix of spices and brown sugar, before she made a red chili honey glaze to pour over them. She also made a sweeter version of barbeque beans, some butternut squash with spinach and onions sautéed to put on top, along with green chili cornbread. The kitchen, again dark wood cabinets with granite countertops and all stainless steel appliances, made her feel enveloped in his masculinity as the sweet and spicy aromas of her cooking started to fill the space.
She took one break about midday to go out and visit the puppies, but whether coincidence or not, Jason had exited the barn when she arrived. So, it wasn't until he came in to check on her later that the smells from the kitchen encouraged him to stop and talk to her.
“You cook?” His sweat-slicked body filled the doorframe, his hand grasping the edge of the door.
“I do.”
“How did that come about? I assumed you had gourmet chefs at your house and the boarding school to cook for you your entire life or fancy restaurants to dine in.”
“I did." She fought the desire to snark back at his comment. "Cooking was a passion I found quite by accident. After boarding school I needed something to entertain me, something to kill time until Daddy found the perfect marriage for me, or whatever." She gestured toward her curvy figure, her hands shaping the air over her breasts and then her bottom, "You may have noticed I like to eat, so this was just a logical thing to try. I found out I enjoy looking up recipes, giving them my own signature touch. The rest, the chopping, the mixing, it relaxes me.”
“You are a woman full of surprises. Actually enjoying my ranch, putting up with the animals and the smells. Saving puppies. And, now cooking? What’s next?”
“Well, sit down and eat with me and we can discuss that,” she offered, looking over her shoulder at him with what she hoped was some subtlety, continually stirring something on the stove that didn’t actually need stirring anymore.
“I don’t know if that's a good idea. I mean, I do want to taste what I smell, and I'm so hungry I could eat a horse even if it's likely burned to a crisp, but us alone, it just seems too dangerous. You promised not to put yourself in any more danger, remember.”
Kathryn felt heat infuse her face at the recollection of what occurred a few days ago in the barn. The promises she made to him were not quite the same as the ones she'd made to herself, though. She pressed on, ignoring his cutting remarks about her cooking, determined to win this round. “Don’t be ridiculous. I made all of this food. The least you could do is sit down and eat it. Unless, of course, you want this all to go to waste or you think my cooking may poison you. You pick the dinner topic.”
"I
t's not your cooking I worry about affecting my health," he grumbled under his breath and turned with an exaggerated sigh to go back into the mud room to wash up and remove his dusty boots.
The food had apparently been a huge success, to her relief. He'd gobbled down two helpings of the ribs, a giant portion of the baked beans, raved over her skill with the butternut squash, and wiped up his plate with three large slices of the green chili cornbread. His genuine surprise and appreciation over her ability to prepare such a good meal pleased her. She finally felt like she'd done something right when he sat back in his chair, rubbing his overfilled stomach, clearly sated.
The conversation during dinner had been strained at first, but the more she’d encouraged him to talk about himself, his life up until that point, how he’d come to own the ranch, all the work he’d done on it with his own two hands to make his dream a reality, the more he had relaxed into the conversation.