Eagle's Redemption

by Cindy Spencer Pape

  Giving her plenty of time to back away, he bent his head to hers. Instead of flinching though, she lifted up on her toes to meet him, eagerly pressing her lips against his.

  Dash tried to start off slowly, but Carmen didn’t let him. She flattened her body along his and opened her mouth, inviting him in. His cock ached where it lay against the rounded curves of her belly as he slid his tongue into the wet heat of her mouth, tasting cookies and wine, and over it all, the unique flavor of her. He splayed one hand across her sweetly flared ass and buried the other in her thick, lustrous hair. Then he held on as the kiss took on a life of its own.

  When she tipped her head to deepen the kiss, her glasses bumped hard against his cheek and she made a small sound of pain. Dash eased away from her mouth and took them off her face, laying them carefully on the shelf. “You okay?”

  “Hell yes,” she murmured, grabbing the back of his head to pull him back down. Her breathing was as ragged as his own.

  He kissed her again, this time sliding his hands up under her snug green T-shirt to find the warm, smooth skin of her back. It took him three tries to unsnap her bra—his fingers didn’t work as well as they had before the fire—but once he did, he moved one hand between them to palm a ripe, heavy breast.

  Her low moan spilled into his mouth and she staggered, her weight falling more heavily against his bad leg. Dash winced and reluctantly pulled his hands out from under her top. “Bed, honey,” he whispered.

  Carmen beamed up at him. “Smart man, as well as sexy.” She shimmied out of his arms and across the room to the bed, pulling her shirt and bra off in one smooth movement as she went. Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she reached for the snap of her jeans and slowly pushed down the zipper.

  It was hard to decide where to focus his gaze, between her sweet face, her plump, swaying breasts with dark raspberry nipples or the pale yellow cotton underwear being revealed as she lowered her jeans. Then she lowered the panties as well, and he licked his lips at the sight of her smooth, bare pussy.

  “You shave?” Without being able to see?

  Carmen chuckled. “Wax. There is a salon in Morgan’s Creek—and a friend of mine is the esthetician. Darla does good work.”

  His mouth was dry as he imagined running his tongue over that sleek skin. “Yeah, she really does.” Frankly the woman deserved a medal.

  Her long hair framed her breasts as she crossed her arms beneath them, lifting them in a way that made his aching erection press even harder against the fly of his jeans. “One of us has too many clothes on.”

  Dash shook his head. He’d been standing there like a lump, letting her get naked all by herself. He kicked off his sneakers, yanked his plaid shirt over his head and peeled off his jeans and socks in record time before crossing to the bed. “One problem. I didn’t exactly come—prepared for this.” He’d chickened out when it had come to buying condoms at the local grocery store.

  “I think there’s some in the nightstand.” She turned from him to pull down the covers, giving Dash a close-up view of the best ass he’d ever seen. Carmen had the curves of a goddess. “For the record, I’ve tested clean, haven’t been with anyone in over a year and I’m on the Pill, to regulate my cycle.”

  Dash snorted. “It’s been about that for me too.” The fire had been eleven months ago, and he’d been on a dry spell before that. “And with all the time I spent in the hospital, I’ve been tested for everything from leprosy to distemper and then some. But better safe than sorry. I’d be more comfortable suiting up.”

  Her laugh warmed something in his chest. “I like a cautious man.” She reached into a drawer and fished out a handful of foil-wrapped packets, which she tossed on the nightstand. “The ones in the red wrappers are magnums.” As he moved closer, she ran one soft hand up his thigh then wrapped it around his cock. “Mmm. Definitely the red ones.”

  Oh man, it was almost enough to make him come, just having her fingers wrapped around his shaft. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed so that he stood between her knees. Dash watched in fascination as her glossy dark head lowered toward his groin. Her pink tongue flicked out and swiped the drop of pre-cum off his tip, with a touch so light it felt like nothing more than a breeze.

  She lifted his cock and traced her tongue down the ridge then weighed his balls in her other hand while she licked them, toying with the short, crinkly hairs.

  “You keep that up, this is going to be over before we start,” he told her. “Like I said, it’s been way too long.”

  “Poor baby,” she teased with a low chuckle. Before he could respond, she slurped the tip of him into her mouth and sucked.

  “Carmen!”

  Her dark eyes danced as she looked up at him, and it was hard to remember she couldn’t see him clearly when she made eye contact so perfectly. So he quit trying. In this arena, her handicap wasn’t an issue at all. His was much more to the point—he didn’t think he could stand much longer without concentrated effort, and her mouth was making conscious thinking pretty impossible. He pulled his pelvis back away from her and slid his hands under her knees, so that when he came down on top of her, she was pinned to the bed with her legs up around his hips. “Gotcha.”

  Again she laughed, and her lighthearted joy delighted something that had gone cold and dark inside Dash’s soul. When was the last time he’d actually had fun?

  Carmen kissed his chin. “I guess you do. Now what are you going to do about it?”

  He couldn’t help a short chuckle in return. “First, get us all the way onto the bed before we hurt ourselves. Then I think I’m going to find out what a Texas girl tastes like.”

  “You already did. Steak, oatmeal cookies and shiraz, right?”

  They wriggled their way up the mattress until Carmen’s head was on one of the fluffy pillows. Her ankles were still locked around Dash’s hips, and his cock was pressed into the soft skin of her lower abdomen.

  He kissed her again, deeply and thoroughly, then pulled back a bit and licked his lips. “Yeah, that’s about right. Now let’s see if it’s the same all over.” Bracing himself on his elbows, he trailed his mouth down the side of her throat to nibble on her collarbone.

  “Not the same,” he murmured a few minutes later as he licked a line down her sternum. “Salty, sweet, with just a hint of spice.” He nuzzled under her breast to taste the crease below then repeated that on the other side. Shifting his elbows, he brought his hands up to cup the sides of her breasts and pushed the two pillowy mounds together, burying his face between them and inhaling deeply of her feminine scent. His cock rubbed against the sheet between her knees, urging him to speed things up. His brain said, Slow things down.

  “Quit teasing, Dash.” Carmen took his head in her hands and nudged him toward one ripe nipple.

  “What’s the matter, honey? These need a little attention?” He rasped one deep-rose nipple with his thumb. Her large areolas were a paler shade, really a dark tan, but the engorged nubs were a dark, dusky pink, almost purple, just like a ripe, fresh raspberry.

  “Umm-hmm,” she moaned. “More, damn it!”

  Never one to deny a lady, Dash dipped his head to lick the turgid bud with the tip of his tongue. When she grabbed both ears and pulled him closer, he took her nipple between his lips and sucked.

  “Yes,” she cried, still cupping the back of his head with one hand to hold him in place while she arched her spine to push her flesh even deeper into his mouth. With the other she kneaded his shoulder, the only other part of his body she could probably reach. Even there, her touch set off his nerve endings as if her fingers were electrically charged. He sucked deeper and harder, her ragged breathing and fractured whimpers music to his ears.

  Her hips pulsed restlessly beneath him and he shifted to the side, bringing one hand down to the silken skin of her waxed mound. She was so wet, his fingers slid effortlessly between her swollen labia, and he stroked lightly along her slit, learning her shape and textures. His aching cock pushed against her thigh, b
egging for its share of the attention, but again he ignored it. He knew he’d go off like a rocket as soon as he got inside her pussy, and he wanted to make sure it was good for her first.

  With that in mind, he slid one finger into her channel, finding her as tight and soaked as he’d hoped. Slipping another finger in stretched her muscles just a bit, so he kept it to two, working them in and out as he switched his mouth to her other breast. Once she’d caught his rhythm, he added his thumb to the mix, rasping it along the side of her clit as he fingered her.

  She let go of his head to grab a fistful of the sheet and her spine bowed up off the mattress when Dash added a third finger and pressed harder on her clit.

  “Dashieeeeeeeeel!”

  His name had never sounded so good. Her cunt muscles clamped down on his fingers and cream flooded his hand as she cried out in her rich contralto voice.

  Dash held his fingers deep until she slumped back onto the bed. After dropping one last soft kiss on each of her nipples, he sat, grabbed a condom then moved back between her legs. Carmen licked her lips as she grinned up at him.

  “Red one, right?”

  Dash shook his head and snickered. “Yeah. But something tells me we’re going to fit together just perfectly.”

  “Fuck me, Dashiel. I don’t want to wait anymore.” She bent her knees so her feet were planted firmly on the bed and held her breath as he positioned the crest of his cock at her entrance and slowly pushed inside.

  “No more waiting, beautiful. Oh damn, you’re tight.” Her muscles gripped his shaft like a fist.

  Entwining her fingers with his, he pinned both her hands on the pillow beside her head and leaned down to kiss her while he started to move. He tried to keep it slow, to bring her back up a second time, but it had been so long and she was so damn perfect. He could feel the twinges in his thigh as he worked his hips, but he didn’t care—even if he couldn’t stand tomorrow, this was worth it. He didn’t think he’d ever been harder as he pistoned in and out of Carmen’s hot, sweet cunt.

  Again she surprised him. Just before he felt his balls tighten to the point of eruption, she squealed into his mouth, coming again and clamping down on his shaft like a vise. With her convulsing around him, he couldn’t hold back and he groaned pitifully as he shoved himself deep and blasted a stream of semen that didn’t seem to end until he was barely conscious, seeing black spots and silver stars in front of his eyes.

  Eventually, the moment of suspended animation ended and he pulled his mouth away from hers to gasp for breath. He also let go of one of her hands so he could brush a few tendrils of long, dark hair off her sweat-dampened cheek.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling, and oh shit, were those tears glistening in her eyes? “That was—oh wow, I don’t even know what that was.”

  Dash just shook his head. He didn’t either. All he could do was kiss her reddened, swollen lips, this time softly and tenderly. Long moments later, he rolled to the side and limped to the bathroom where he peeled the condom off his still semi-erect cock and tried to catch his breath.

  When he returned to the bedroom, Carmen had retrieved the glasses of wine and was sitting up against the headboard, still gloriously naked. She patted the sheet beside her, and when he sat, she handed him one of the still-cool glasses and raised her own.

  They sat there in comfortable silence until they’d both finished their wine.

  “I promised Mac I’d be up at the bunkhouse by eight,” Dash said finally, reluctantly getting ready to get up and leave. “I guess I should be heading home.”

  “Or,” she said, setting her empty glass aside, “I can set the alarm for six.” Then she leaned over and kissed him, sliding her hand over his reviving erection.

  * * * * *

  What the hell had he done?

  Dash hurried through a shower and changed into clean clothes before heading up to the main compound on the ranch. He was only running a few minutes late—somehow he and Carmen had managed not to get out of bed until an hour after her alarm went off. Three times in one night would have been good before his injuries. That he’d pulled it off now was freaking amazing.

  Now he had to spend the day pretending nothing had happened. Please, god, let him not run into Ken. He’d have to face Carmen’s grandfather sometime, but he wasn’t ready for it today. Whatever was happening was too new, too raw. He parked his truck behind the barns and rubbed a spot just below his sternum. Thinking about Carmen made his chest ache, along with his dick.

  “Look who finally rolled in,” Mac called as Dash walked slowly into the barn.

  He wasn’t limping—not quite, but his leg had gotten one hell of a workout last night and it probably shouldn’t take a whole lot of abuse today. When he’d first gotten to the ranch, he’d pushed himself so hard every day that after a week he couldn’t even stand. Ken had shown up at the line shack with some kind of herbal-smelling green liniment and a refill of Dash’s muscle relaxant prescription. The older man even admitted he’d called Dash’s mother to get the paperwork. It sucked that Dash was repaying Ken’s friendship by fooling around with his granddaughter.

  “More fence work today?” Dash asked Mac, trying not to grimace at the idea of hours in the saddle.

  Mac nodded. “North pasture.”

  “Hey, I’d happily trade riding fences for working on the breeding records,” Mick Dana, the ranch foreman, said with a grimace. “Joe was doing most of the computer work before he died, and I just don’t have a knack for it.”

  “Computers?” Dash quirked an eyebrow at the older man—a dyed-in-the-wool Texas cowboy, right down to the bow-legged stance. “What, like entering info into a database?”

  Mick shrugged. “I guess. Putting in the data then looking at the bloodlines to see which animals are too closely related to breed, that sort of thing. Used to be paper studbooks, which I could make sense out of, but now it’s all on that damn machine.”

  “I’ll take that trade,” Dash offered. “All our reports at the force were on computers, and I took a bunch of classes at the community college once upon a time. Computers and I get along pretty well.” Better than pretty well actually, but he didn’t like to brag. Doing data management would give his leg a rest, besides making him feel as if he was doing something he was actually good at.

  “Deal.” Mick stuck out his hand and shook it before turning to Mac. “I’ll get him going then meet you up in the north pasture in about an hour, all right?”

  Mac grinned. “It doesn’t matter to me. I do enough paperwork for the bar—I’ve got no interest in adding to it. All yours, bro.”

  Bro. Dash smiled back at his half brother and shook his head. It was still weird to have this whole other family, but he liked it. He also liked Mac a lot, and they’d both come to adore Leah. There was a story there. Apparently, Mac had always known Leah was his half sister, the old man’s only legitimate child, but she’d had no idea that her father had also sired sons. It could have been a real clusterfuck when it all came out, but somehow, the two had made it work. Dash couldn’t be prouder of his newly discovered siblings.

  He wished his mom could meet them, but he understood that she was uncomfortable about the idea of visiting Joe Morgan’s former home. Even more, he’d like to get her take on Carmen. He was pretty sure the two women would hit it off right away. They were both survivors who’d chosen to embrace life instead of being defeated by the odds against them.

  It didn’t take long for Mick to teach Dash the basics of the database they used for stud records, and soon he immersed himself in the data. He’d known ranching was more complex than it seemed, but now he really had the chance to delve into the specifics, recording things like bloodlines, the calves’ birth records, and how much the steers sold for at market. Vaccinations, castration and artificial insemination—the information was all laid out in a straightforward manner he could read and understand. The whole process was actually fascinating, and Dash was shocked to realize several hours had pa
ssed before one of the hands knocked on the office door to ask if Dash wanted to join them for lunch at the bunkhouse.

  “No, that’s okay.” He’d packed a sandwich, planning to eat it out on the trail. He still wasn’t particularly comfortable with being in a group. Most of the ranch hands had gotten used to looking at what was left of Dash’s face, but Dash hadn’t adjusted to the quickly averted eyes or the pitying looks that still happened once in a while.

  “Up to you, boss,” the man said, closing the door behind him as he left.

  Boss. He hadn’t gotten used to that yet either. Half the time he still felt like an interloper on the ranch, though it did get better with each passing day. He had to admit though, the first time he’d really felt at home since he’d been in Texas had been the other night at Carmen’s kitchen table. Last night in her bed had been even more so, and yeah, he’d promised to come back tonight.

  Holy shit, what was he letting himself in for?

  Chapter Five

  Carmen was singing when Dash knocked on her door that evening. He could see her through the screen door, moving around her kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans she’d probably used to make dinner, singing as she worked. He hadn’t brought flowers this time, but he had driven to the next town to buy a box of condoms, so he was running just a little bit late. He stood with his hand raised to knock on the metal-framed screen, just listening to the beauty of her gorgeous alto voice. He wasn’t sure what language—maybe Spanish or Italian—she was singing in, but he was suddenly rethinking his anti-opera stance.

  It was her dog who finally noticed him, giving a soft woof of acknowledgement and nosing at the screen. Carmen stopped in the middle of her song and turned toward the door. “Dash? Is that you?”

  “It is,” he replied. He had to stop and remember that she couldn’t see him from halfway across the room—it wasn’t that he had a problem with Carmen’s handicap—sometimes he just plain forgot about it.