“Yeah. Will says to forget about the ranch and Pohlsen, and just—”
“Forget about Will, too. Except for believing he’ll do a good job for you.”
Diana laughed. “Do I detect some jealousy in your voice, cowboy?”
“I’m saying you’d better get your sweet rear in gear, angel. You haven’t checked your e-mail, have you?”
She blinked. “No. Just finished talking to Will about—”
“Will schmill! Print out your ticket, throw some clothes in a duffel, and hit the road, woman!” he teased. “I got you a great getaway deal but it’s only good for this afternoon’s flight.”
“Holy—I’ve gotta get moving!” She made a kissy noise into the phone. “And thank you, Michael. From the bottom of my widdle heart.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” he teased. “Be careful on the road, hear me?”
13
Diana dashed to the computer, skimmed the flight confirmation he’d sent, and her jaw dropped. Michael wasn’t kidding! She had no time to lose! “Will! Will, my flight’s at three-fifty and I haven’t started to pack and I need gas in my car and—”
The sandy-haired attorney stepped inside and his smile went directly to her heart. “Seems the least I can do is drive you to the airport—”
“Would you? But I can’t ask that favor on top of—”
“If you’ll do me the favor of letting me stay here while you’re gone,” he finished. He watched her reaction and didn’t miss a beat. “Not only would it save me the hotel bill while I work on your case—”
“Like we have any decent hotels for miles around.”
“A point, yes.” His hazel eyes narrowed. “It also keeps someone here—a male presence—while you’re away. Not that I think Jerry Pohlsen would try anything shifty while you’re gone.”
Diana stopped in the middle of the living room. She’d always believed in the concept of guardian angels, and Will Killiam had suddenly slipped into that role, hadn’t he? “You’re a genius. I owe you big time, but I’ve got to get moving!”
While her ticket printed out, she threw all the clean jeans and tops she could find into a suitcase and dropped her cosmetics into plastic bags. Twenty minutes later she was trotting out the door in front of Will. “My face and hair’ll have to wait until I get to Cody, so—”
“Somehow, I don’t think Mike will mind.” Cool and calm, Will opened the door of his Catera. He whipped the car around to drive out—and they were headed straight toward a silver SUV they hadn’t noticed coming up the driveway. Diana groaned, but a sharklike grin overtook her driver’s face. “Let me handle him. I’m your attorney, after all.”
“Hey there, where ya goin’ in such a big—well, now, don’t you look sizzlin’ hot?” Jerry Pohlsen leaned down to gawk through her open car window. “And who’s this?”
“Will Killiam,” he said as he extended his hand. “We’ve spoken on the phone—”
Pohlsen ignored him. “Let me guess. You’re still hot to trot for White Horse, and now you’ve got another man on the string, too? I’m telling you, Diana, these guys are only in this for themselves—”
“Kind of like you, right?” she retorted. “Better watch your step, Mr. I-Wanna-Be-a-Congressman. You’re trespassing again, so—”
“It’s my right as the president of the bank to—” He scowled. “How’d you know I was going to run for congress?”
“We don’t have time for this conversation right now,” Will cut in, “but I’ll be contacting you first thing tomorrow. We have a lot to talk about.”
Wow, it felt good to hear that! Diana relaxed in the leather seat as Will accelerated down the lane toward the road. Never again would she fear Polecat Pohlsen or let him make her feel inferior or ashamed. She was a single, consenting adult. And right now consenting—yes—was the only thing on her mind.
“Yes, Diana, I won my event today. And once again you were my good luck charm,” Michael murmured as he took her head between his warm, strong hands. “So now I feel like a winner.”
When his lips met hers Diana melted against him. Unbelievable, the way her body already anticipated his nuances. She couldn’t wait to be lying next to him. Naked. Uninhibited. Totally open to him.
“You’re so hot I smell smoke, angel. Better get you out of this airport and into that room.” His onyx eyes ignited beneath the brim of his black hat as he steered her away from the baggage claim area.
The vision teased at something deep within her. “I don’t get it. I didn’t even have time to fix my hair and makeup, but I’ve gotten all these smiles from guys today.”
“Because you look natural,” he replied as they strode to the parking lot. “Totally open to whatever a man wants to do to you. What I see is what I get…and I see a woman in love.” He opened the truck door and kissed her hungrily. “Or at least a woman in lust. And right now I’ll take that!”
Diana’s cheeks tingled, because yes, even though she’d loved Garrison with her whole heart she hadn’t felt this ecstatic—this desired—in years. Climbing into her husband’s truck with a younger, hotter man in tight jeans and a fitted chambray shirt would’ve seemed inappropriate a few months ago, but now it was a means to where she wanted to go. And that was to a motel room with a big, cushy bed.
As he drove, Michael looked at her as though he might pull over to ravish her on the roadside. They chattered about the broncs he’d drawn, but it was all about sex…sex as elemental as horses with names like Hurricane and Rampage and Demon’s Dare. Sex that made his face tight and his nostrils flare, until he steered her down the hallway of the modest motel and into his room. Her bags hit the floor and he shut the door by kissing her against it.
“Diana…Diana, I’ve missed you so much,” he murmured against her ear. “Just the memory of being in your bed, with your naked body against me, soft and sweet, well”—Michael laughed softly—“I almost called you every night, because I woke up with this…need.”
“And I’m here to take care of that.” She tossed his hat to the desk. “I feel something very hard prodding my thigh. And you know that suck job we talked about on the phone?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed above his collar when he swallowed.
“It’s time.” She unbuckled his belt, gazing into his eyes with a teasing smile. “When I heard you that night, releasing yourself, I knew I had to have you again, really soon. And here I am.”
As he yanked down his jeans, she reached inside his stretchy bikini to cup him. His balls felt full and tight and hot. His mahogany face looked downright desperate. “Untie your hair, Michael. Let it drop over your shoulders so I can watch it shimmy like a silk curtain when you shudder and come.”
He inhaled sharply. Tugged off the leather thong and then shook his mane loose.
God, but he looked wild and free. She knelt, took his cock in her hands and slowly slid her lips over the length of it. His moan sang to her soul. His head fell back and as his hips bucked slightly, Diana stroked and sucked and tongued him. Magnificent did not describe Michael White Horse. He was a fantasy come to life, all muscle and lush skin, and when he placed his hands on either side of her head she let him set the pace that would satisfy his need.
“Just a little more,” he groaned. “I don’t want to cheat you of—”
“Just take it,” she rasped. “I want to feel the thunder roll through your body while the lightning flashes in your eyes, Michael.”
His smile lit fires in her secret regions, and when she took him in her mouth again he responded to every lick and tickle. What a power trip! He was hers to make crazy, and Diana slowly set out to do that.
“I—if you don’t want me to squirt in your mouth…”
She sucked him deeper, then pressed her lips tightly around his thickness to draw them up his hot length. When she reached the tip, she circled it with her tongue until his hips bucked. He grimaced with need.
Again and again she took in his cock and drew her mouth slowly up its shaft unt
il Michael looked extremely desperate. Then, with a series of quick, short thrusts she drove him over the edge.
The thunder rolled, all right: he growled low in his chest and when he looked down into her eyes she saw a flash. It was gratitude but it was something much sweeter, too. He bucked and surged until he’d completely released himself. Then he rested his forearms against the door, forming a dark, mysterious arch above her as he caught his breath.
His smile was so damn gratifying, Diana was ready to go after him again.
“Stretch out on the edge of the bed, babe. I’m gonna give you some of this while I’m still hard.” He stepped away to tug down her jeans. Diana laughed and yanked her shirt over her head…felt his fingers fretting over the clasp of her bra…turned and landed spread-eagle on the bed. What was it about this man that made her so eager to show herself off? She’d been a modest wife—
Garrison rarely tried new tricks. Just wanted release and then fell asleep.
But Michael White Horse was made for hot sex, and he didn’t waste a moment on what-ifs. He lived for the heat of the game, and Diana decided that was a pretty good way to spend her life, too. She watched eagerly as he sheathed himself in black latex.
He spread her thighs. Long, dark fingers drifted into her slit to test its moisture…to swirl her juice and watch her face as the sensations flared. He was still erect enough that his intention was clear, and when he tugged her butt to the edge of the bed and up his flexed legs Diana cried out with his penetration. She’d missed him more than she knew.
“Nothing so sexy as a woman who wants it,” he murmured. “I smell your heat, and you need a good pumping to take the edge off. Don’t you?”
“Yeah, that would be—oh, God! Oh, my—holy shit. Michael!”
How many fingers had he slid inside her? Her pussy was filled with the in-and-out of an eager hand…knuckles that rubbed and fingertips that tickled and firm, warm flesh that found the spots begging for his attention. She couldn’t stop writhing. Couldn’t stop thrusting and moaning and—
Just when Diana thought she’d go crazy with need, Michael placed his face between her legs. His tongue mercilessly massaged her clit while the roughness of his face inflamed her thighs. With a long, wayward moan she gave up any pretense of control. This man had her where he wanted her, and they both knew it.
Upward she spun, into a spiral of bright lights and spasms that made her body quake. On and on she shuddered. Was it possible to pass out from such intense sensations? She was about to find out.
She speared her hands into his magnificent hair and released her last shred of sanity. When she could open her eyes, Michael was lying between her legs with his abdomen resting on hers and his forearms bearing most of his weight. His hair fell around her face like a canopy of midnight while his eyes shown like stars.
“Now we’re both where we need to be,” he whispered. “Would it hurt your feelings if we napped? I haven’t slept much, thinking about you and how to get you here.”
She smiled, feeling sweetly, totally sated. “That makes two of us, cowboy. I woke up in such a lather from a hot dream last night, it could’ve been me on a saddle bronc.”
Was there anything nicer than lying in a lover’s arms, surrounded by his strength and warm affection? Diana draped a leg over his lean hip as he cradled her against his chest. All she knew was the gentle rhythm of his breathing…the hum of the air conditioner…the sense that nothing in this world could ever hurt her again.
The sunrise chased them down the highway toward Sheridan. Michael drove with his hand on her thigh as he chatted about the Indian Relay he would ride in. “You’ll love it,” he assured her. “It’s a competition that dates back to ancient tribal games…a relay that pits a team of four ponies and their rider against teams from all over the country. It’s just you and each of your horses, galloping around the track at breakneck speed.”
“In loincloths, right? What’s not to love about that?”
He chuckled. “That’s the way most women see it, yes. Since I don’t have my own horses here, I’m at a slight disadvantage. But it’s still fun.”
She nodded, glancing at the passing Wyoming scenery. For a fleeting moment she envisioned the beautiful horses that once grazed at Seven Creeks, but then dismissed her sadness. Mourning the past wouldn’t bring back the livestock or the livelihood she had assumed would support her forever. “Do you have horses at home, then?”
“I did when I was a kid. Wasn’t a horse I couldn’t ride, and I lived for it,” he replied wistfully. “But going to college—and crunching numbers—takes you away from that lifestyle.”
“So now you’ve returned to rodeo. Like returning to your roots.”
“I’ve figured out what’s important. And what means something to me.” He gazed at the road ahead of them, considering how much he wanted to share. “My mother always told me my way with horses was a gift I shouldn’t forsake. She’s come to me in my dreams recently, to tell me I’m on the right path and that she’s proud of me for leaving the casino.” He gazed at Diana as they idled at a stop light. “It’s cool to see her again, looking young and healthy like I remember when I was a kid.”
Diana returned his gaze and saw herself mirrored in his onyx eyes. When his sculpted lips curved in a smile, she hoped she could make him this happy forever.
14
“It’s you and me, all the way to the finish line, Wildfire. You’ll be my final mount, and we’re gonna kick some ass today. Got it?”
Michael ran his hands over the sleek side of this black barrel-chested pony, letting the spunky mount get accustomed to his scent and voice and touch. Wildfire was a fine animal with red feathers woven into his lush mane. A line of bright red handprints ran up his flanks to distinguish their team from the others, and Michael placed his palm against each of the painted prints before caressing the pony’s firm haunches. His other three mounts stood quietly with their lead ropes dangling, yet Michael had felt the speed and fire they were each capable of as he decided the order in which he’d ride them. They were four of a kind—four aces of spades—but he could distinguish their differences and he sensed their souls.
Wildfire turned to monitor Michael’s progress, but showed no sign of distrust or skittishness—a welcome contrast from the broncs he’d ridden these past few weeks. When he’d circled this mount again, Michael gazed deeply into the horse’s brown eyes…let the gelding assess him, too, as he held its proud head between his hands. These moments of silent communication showed him the pony’s spirit while he convinced it to give nothing less than an exceptional effort.
By the time he swung onto Wildfire’s back they knew each other well. He circled the practice paddock a few times, urging the black into various gaits and familiarizing himself with the feel of this horse beneath his body…two elemental forces melding in a way that made his soul sing the ancient songs.
He shook hands with the three hostlers who would assist him during the relay, and they strategized briefly. All agreed the race wasn’t so much about winning as it was for the sheer glory of galloping around the track with an adrenaline rush like no other. As they led Wildfire, Tomahawk, Chief, and Arapaho toward the starting line, Michael found Diana in the stands.
She gazed at him as though he were the only man in the arena.
He raised his hand, a solemn salute of respect; recognition of her as his soul’s mate. She might not be so easily tamed as a horse, but the rides she gave him more than compensated for that and her inner mysteries fascinated him. Her golden hair caught fire in the sun and her slow smile warmed a part of him that tightened beneath his loincloth. His pulse pounded hard beneath the red handprints painted on his chest. He felt invincible and proud in ways he thought he’d lost. It would be a phenomenal race. A day of strength and speed and glory he’d missed when he sat behind a desk.
As the announcer’s voice blared over the speakers, Michael focused on the race, reviewing his plan: he would lead with Arapaho, followed by Chief, t
hen Tomahawk, and then he would claim a stunning victory atop Wildfire. Not for a moment did he doubt he’d win. He stroked each pony’s muzzle a final time, and then nodded at his three hostlers in their red shirts.
Michael mounted Arapaho and took his position alongside the other contestants as the announcer called their names. His pulse surged, and as he glanced at Diana the look on her face—her direct, sexual gaze—stoked the fires within him. It would be a ride like no other after this relay, as well: he couldn’t wait to feel her between his thighs as he mounted her fine body.
When the gun fired, he surged ahead with a resounding cry of triumph…an elongated calling out of Diana’s name, as if she were already making him climax.
Diana gasped at the spectacle playing out before her. Ebony-haired and bare-chested, the Native American riders leaned into the first turn with a ferocity that drove her to the edge of her seat. It was a rush of glistening dark skin and pounding ponies’ hooves. War whoops rang out as the riders’ feathers and hair flew in the wind. She marveled at the men’s dexterity as the pack thundered around the final turn of the first lap, coming toward her. Their proud, lean bodies and intense expressions defined by high cheekbones, sharp noses and raven hair. They made a formidable sight with their team symbols painted on their chests and feathers that matched those entwined in their mounts’ manes.
She raised the binoculars. Michael looked so damn good: confident and competitive as he maintained his place near the front of the group. Her palms itched to cover the shiny red handprints on his chest, and to feel the thunder of his heartbeat. His bare thighs bunched as he urged his horse toward the first exchange. She longed for the next time his determined squint would be focused on her with such intensity…
What does it feel like to be racing a horse with your privates pressed against its spine? The wicked whisper in her head made Diana squirm. While the contestants varied in height and body structure, there wasn’t a one she’d kick out of bed.
Tempted by a Cowboy Page 17