True-Blue Cowboy

by Sara Richardson

  “Like, a drug cartel?” Everly asked as though that were completely outside the realm of possibility. Around here, it was.

  “Yeah. We didn’t have much. Mom always struggled. So Andres took care of us. He was eight years older than me. I looked up to him.” He could’ve said more—that his brother had been like a surrogate father to him—but Everly already seemed to understand that, given the sympathy that welled in her eyes.

  “You never saw him after he left?” she asked as though grasping for a glimpse of hope in the midst of a tragic story.

  “No.” Sometimes a tragedy was just a tragedy. Sometimes there was no hope to grasp. So what was the point in reliving it?

  “How did he…pass away?” The words were nearly a whisper. “And how did you find out?”

  “He sent a letter to my mom a while back. First communication since he left. So I called a buddy who works on the police force down there. Asked him to check around.” Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe it would have been better never knowing. “My buddy told me Andres turned a year ago and was working as an informant.”

  “So they killed him?”

  He had a feeling that was putting it mildly. Gutierrez had said executed. “Yeah.”

  Everly brushed tears from her cheeks. How did she do that? Feel things so deeply? Once again her tender heart stunned him. “God, Mateo. I’m sorry. That’s heartbreaking. Your poor mom.”

  “She doesn’t know. I never told her I watched him leave. I never told her where he went.”

  “What?” The woman gasped. “Why?”

  “It seemed better that way.” Everly didn’t know what the cartels were like. How evil they were. She didn’t want to know. “My mom raised us to be good people. I thought it would kill her if she knew.”

  “That must’ve been so hard for you. To keep the truth from her all those years.”

  “It was, but then Gunner brought me to his ranch and it got easier.” The distance had made everything easier. Living at Gunner’s ranch and competing and signing sponsorship deals with the Renegades had kept him busy enough that he didn’t have to think about it. He hadn’t wanted to. He’d continued to take care of his mom and sisters as much as he could, but he’d moved on. Made himself forget. He was good at that.

  “You look like you could use a drink, too,” Everly murmured, shedding the blanket. “Can I get you a beer? Or I have some scotch.”

  “That’s okay.” He turned his face to hers. “I’ve got a big training day tomorrow. A competition this weekend.” And he wasn’t craving a drink nearly as much as he was craving her lips, her hands grasping at him again. God, his body ached for her. Did she feel it, too? He stared into her eyes so he could see the truth. “Can I ask you something?”

  She stared back, her cheeks flushed. “Sure.”

  “Why did you let me kiss you?” Why had she kissed him back with so much longing?

  “What d’you mean, why?” One eyebrow quirked. “I don’t know. Mostly because I wanted you to kiss me.” Her eyes shied away. “It felt good to be kissed.”

  “That’s it? It wasn’t because I’m your landlord and you felt like you had to let me?”

  “Of course not.” Her eyes were wide when they found his again, like she couldn’t believe he didn’t know. “I like you. I’m attracted to you. Isn’t it obvious?”

  He let his gaze drift over her, taking in the casual flannel shirt she wore, the way her hair had been pulled back loosely, exposing her neck, the color that had risen high on her cheeks. “You are increíblemente hermosa.” He couldn’t keep the observation to himself. Everly was nothing like the women he typically dated out on the circuit. She was too good for him. Too sweet. Too delicate, and yet here he was sitting by her side trying once again to convince himself he was not allowed to have her, to kiss her, to touch her.

  “I took French, so I only know a little Spanish,” she said, but judging from the way her eyes wouldn’t quite meet his, he assumed she’d gotten the gist of it.

  “Amazingly beautiful,” he translated for her. “Stunning. Too good to be true.” She didn’t need fancy clothes or makeup or the fake flirty laugh so many women approached him with. “You’re radiant.” Beauty shined through every part of her.

  Her head lowered as though she wanted to look away or deflect the compliment, but then a smile sparked. “And you are un bel homme.”

  “A big stinky goat?” he guessed.

  The self-deprecation earned him a laugh. “No.” Everly scooted closer to him.

  “You are a very good-looking man, Mateo.” She stopped just short of his lap.

  He held back the want that growled through him. “Tell me to go to my room.” He would. If she didn’t want him, he would walk away.

  But Everly bit into her bottom lip seductively. “You already know I won’t.”

  The words had barely escaped her mouth when he covered it with his.

  Chapter Fifteen

  She’d forgotten the power of a kiss. Or maybe she’d simply never felt power like this.

  Mateo’s lips were hot and heady, moving against hers while his tongue teased with long, tantalizing strokes. She opened her mouth to him, inching forward until she straddled his lap, and matched his obvious greed with her own.

  Mateo swept her hair over her shoulder and uttered lovely Spanish phrases while he kissed his way down her neck. “Tu piel es tan suave.”

  She had no idea what he’d said, but it sounded passionate. “I like hearing you speak Spanish,” she murmured, cupping her hands around his jaw to guide his lips back to hers.

  “Hueles tan bien.” The words growled from his throat.

  “Mmm-hmmm,” she sighed against his mouth.

  “Puedo tener suficiente de ti, bebé.” He slid his hands down her back and under her butt, centering her on his lap. He was hard and strong—all muscle and brawn—but his hands were tender on her body, moving up over her thighs to caress her lower back. “That means I can’t get enough of you, baby,” he whispered hotly in her ear.

  “I can’t get enough of you, either.” Desire flooded through her, swift and scorching and fierce enough to silence her inhibitions and carry her away. God, it had been so long since she’d gotten carried away. She moved her lips along his jaw, and then let her tongue trail down his neck until his breaths came heavier, louder. Mateo moaned into her hair. His hands worked at the top button of her shirt, but then he paused and focused his dark, dilated eyes on hers. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

  “Don’t stop.” She needed this as much as he did, to let go, to be held and caressed and intimate with someone who could rouse her desires, coax her passion back to life. “We don’t have to stop. I don’t want to stop,” she said, making sure he got it.

  “You sure your friends won’t show up again?” A smile reached the corners of his eyes, crinkling them with a mischievous tenderness.

  “If my friends show up this time, I’ll ignore them,” Everly promised, bringing Mateo’s hands back to the buttons on her shirt. He worked them slowly, one by one, fascination in his gaze as each button revealed more of her colorful polka-dotted bra.

  “It’s like a party happening under here.” He slipped the shirt off her shoulders.

  “I have a thing for buying pretty undergarments.” It was one of only a few habits she’d salvaged from her old life.

  “And I have a thing for admiring you in pretty undergarments.” He lowered her back to the couch and unbuttoned her jeans before slowly working them off her hips to reveal her underwear. “They match.”

  Everly propped herself up on her elbows, feeling sexier than she had in…well…ever. “Of course they match.” She couldn’t say why it was so important to her to wear good underwear, but now she was damn glad she did. The mesmerized look on Mateo’s face made it worth every penny.

  “Stand up so I can see more.” He reached out a hand and she gladly took it, emboldened by the way he stared at her.

  Mateo remained seated while she pushed
off the couch and stood in front of him, offering him a profile view, and then turning to show off the G-string.

  “Mamacita.”

  Everly had never heard such a manly whimper. She turned to face him fully, hands on her hips. “And what does that mean, exactly?” She had a pretty good idea, but she wanted to hear him say it.

  “Hot mama. It can mean all kinds of other sexy things, too.” He shifted to the edge of the couch and traced his finger from the very center of her bra down over her bellybutton all the way to the lace edge of her underwear. “You, Everly Brooks, are all kinds of sexy.”

  Everly moved closer and straddled his lap again. “And how do you say, ‘make love to me’?” she asked, between wet kisses right below his ear.

  “Hazme el amor.” His hand played with her hair as she continued kissing different spots on his neck.

  “Hazme el amor,” she whispered into his ear, drawing out the last syllable as she shimmied his T-shirt up and pulled it off over his head. Muscles rippled in his chest. She leaned back for a better view and ran her hand over them, reading the tight bends and curves, tracing the few scars that dented his tanned skin. “Tu es exquis.”

  “You are a hairy donkey?” he asked, flashing that playful grin.

  God, she loved how he made her laugh. “No.” Everly bent her head to kiss each scar. “You are exquisite.” Deep and passionate and wounded and real. She kissed the left side of his chest, letting her lips linger there, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart.

  “I’m just a cowboy.” Ragged breaths punched through the words. “Not nearly good enough for you.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” Her hands frantically worked at the button fly of his jeans.

  Mateo lifted her off his lap and set her on the couch. Then he stood and lowered his jeans one inch at a time, his lower abs and hips tensed into rock-hard perfection. The more she saw, the wider her eyes got. Everly imagined her expression told him everything.

  Finally, his jeans lay pooled next to him on the floor.

  Everly stood and wrapped her arms around him, drawing his body to hers.

  Mateo reached around and popped the clasp of her bra with one hand. He slid the satiny straps down her shoulders and dropped it on the floor, never taking his eyes off her body. She inhaled deeply when his lips brushed her skin, drifting lightly over her left breast then her right. He took his time exploring and tasting, his tongue toying with her skin as though he had all night to arouse her.

  She pushed down his boxer briefs and teased her hand up the hard length of him.

  He growled against her chest, the sound resonating in her ribs. Everly glided her hands up the front of him and pressed her palms against his shoulders, pushing him to sit back on the couch. He paused on the way and searched his jeans for his wallet, where he found a condom.

  While he put it on, Everly flashed him a naughty grin and worked her underwear down her hips, then slowly over her legs until the G-string drifted to the ground and she could kick it aside.

  “Sí, bebe. Ven aca.” Mateo hooked his hand onto her thigh and prodded her closer.

  “Yes, baby.” She’d understood that much.

  “Come here,” he finished for her. His fingers threaded through hers, entwining their hands intimately as she lowered to the couch and straddled his lap, making sure her breasts were level with his mouth. He took full advantage of the position, kissing and nibbling and sucking while his hands urged her to rock against him. His hard length grazed her most sensitive spots, coiling cords of pleasure torturously tight, making her heart beat faster, her lungs work harder. The sensations built so fast she lost control, breaking apart under the rhythm of his hands moving her body over his, the delectable feel of his mouth on her skin. The orgasm jarred her with electrical currents and she could only hold onto him, riding it out while she incoherently expressed how good it felt.

  Once her body stilled, she rested her forehead on his shoulder, still breathless. “Sorry,” she murmured, unwilling to look at his face. “I should’ve at least tried to wait for you.”

  “Oh, no, niña bonita.” Mateo ran his strong hands up and down her back. “You should never apologize for enjoying yourself.” He raised her face to his. “I have no problem making that happen again. And again.”

  Smiling at him, Everly balanced her elbows on his shoulders and ran her hands through his thick dark hair. “This time no one gets left out.” She lifted her hips and came down on him, burying him deep inside of her.

  Mateo’s lips parted, a long, groaning breath easing out of him. His hands grasped at the small of her back, bringing her in closer, tighter, as though he thought she had the power to save him.

  The connection eclipsed their bodies and reached something deeper in her. Maybe because he had been betrayed, too. Abandoned. She wanted to take away the sadness that had stolen the light out of his eyes earlier. She wanted to leave no room for it to hold him captive. “Vous avez une belle âme,” she murmured against his lips. “You are a beautiful soul.”

  “Not me.” He shook his head slowly, those sorrowful eyes aligning with hers. “Your soul is far more beautiful than mine.” His voice lowered with a solemn intensity. Everly kissed away his doubts, moving her hips, sliding up his body and back down, taking him as deep as he could go. Mateo’s head fell back as he thrust up to meet her movements, again and again, faster until that stimulating pressure built inside of her again. She tightened her legs around his waist and clawed his back with her fingers every time his hips lifted her. He was waiting for her—she felt his strain—so she embraced the convulsions, turning herself over fully to the explosion of passion, letting it claim her. Mateo let go, too, murmuring her name and more beautiful Spanish words, holding her tightly against him as his body shook with release beneath her.

  Quiet settled over them, interrupted only by the sound of their breathing. Everly let her upper body drape over his. “Wow. I’m tired. In a very good way. Very, very good.” She turned her cheek so she could peek at his face. “So relaxed. And…happy.” Strangely happy. Like in this moment every piece of her fit together perfectly.

  “Me too.” Mateo brushed a kiss across her temple.

  “But tired.” She laughed. “Did I already mention that? I’m so tired I don’t know if I can move.”

  “Then let’s go to bed.” He stood, lifted her into his arms, and carried her back to the bedroom.

  Movement shook the mattress, jolting Mateo awake. By the time he managed to get his eyes open Everly was standing next to the bed, pulling a shirt on over her head.

  “What’re you doing?” He propped himself up on his elbow, letting his eyes feast on her bare legs. Damn those legs, that body of hers…

  “I didn’t realize it was so late!” She snatched a pair of jeans off her dresser and shook them out. “I have to get to the café. Gus and Hector and Charlie are probably already waiting for me. I’m teaching them how to make oatmeal today.”

  “The old guys?” Mateo scooted to the edge of the bed and pulled her against him, bringing her to lie down on the soft mattress all wrapped up tight in his arms. “They can wait. Stay in bed. With me.” As far as he was concerned, they could stay in bed all day doing the same things they’d done last night. He slid his hand down her hip, savoring the feel of her silky skin.

  But Everly wriggled away from him. “They’ll be at the café at six. They’re never late—”

  Mateo silenced her with a lingering kiss that seemed to leach the tension from her body. When he pulled away, she was leaning into him, relaxed and lazy again. “I really shouldn’t make them wait…” She dragged her hand down his bare chest and seemed to lose her train of thought.

  “Te ves tan hermosa por la mañana,” Mateo murmured. “That means you look so beautiful in the morning.” The word “beautiful” didn’t do her justice. Her golden hair had mostly escaped from her ponytail, flowing down over her shoulders. Sleepiness made her eyes droop in the corners in the sexiest way. “Just call you
r gentleman admirers,” he whispered in her ear. “And tell them you’re sick. I promise we’ll have fun.”

  “I can’t.” Everly’s face sobered. She wriggled away from him and got out of bed. “This might be my last chance to teach them something.”

  “Your last chance?” He knew her friends were old, but that was a little pessimistic, wasn’t it?

  Everly turned away so he couldn’t see her face. She hastily pulled on the pair of jeans she’d dropped only a few minutes ago. “I won’t have the café anymore. So, no. I’m not going to tell them I’m sick. And I’m not going to stay in bed with you, Mateo.”

  Fuck. He let his head fall back to the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “Everly…” What could he say? How could he make her stay when he’d already kicked her out? “I’m sorry—”

  “Stop.” She undid her ponytail and snatched a brush from the dresser, pulling it through her long hair. “This never should’ve happened. I never should’ve slept with you. Things were crazy last night. I was too emotional.”

  “Wait.” He sat up. “Hold on. I thought…you wanted it to happen.”

  “I did.” She tossed the brush onto the dresser with a loud clang. “But I don’t do this, Mateo. I don’t roll out of bed after a night like that and move on the way you do. It actually meant something to me. Which might sound pathetic to you, but I want intimate moments to mean something.”

  “It doesn’t sound pathetic. It meant something to me, too. I know things are complicated, but—”

  “It’s not complicated.” Her voice raised. “Not for me. I can’t turn off my feelings the way you do. Or maybe I could, but I don’t want to because even though sometimes they make my heart hurt, they also make my life more meaningful.” She pulled on a sweatshirt, her movements frantic. “Sleeping with someone occasionally won’t be enough for me. I want someone to know me in a way you never could.”

  “That’s not fair.” He threw off the covers and scrambled out of bed. “Maybe I could know you.” Maybe he wanted to.