The Cowboy

by Vonna Harper, P. J. Mellor, Nelissa Donovan

  She came closer, the tips of her breasts poking his chest, and brushed her lips over his. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”

  “You know, we really should shower all the saltwater off. You could wash my back.”

  She grinned and lightly punched his shoulder. “What a guy.” She leaned in to kiss him again and whispered, “I’d much rather wash your front.” Her hand sought—and found—him ready for her again.

  At her surprised look, he assured her, “We don’t have to make love again. We could talk.” Yeah, right. He wasn’t sure he could “just talk” to her even if someone threatened to cut off his left nut.

  “Tyler,” she said in a singsong voice, “You lie.” She laughed. “And we don’t make love. We have sex. Just sex.”

  Okay, he would let that one slide. For now. “Tell me your name.”

  Trailing one finger along his flagpole erection in an idle caress, she said, “What difference does it make? Why can’t we just enjoy what we have for as long as we have it?”

  How many times had he said those very words? Now he wondered if he’d sounded as condescending. Damn, he hated being a sex object.

  But if that’s all she wanted…that was what she would get.

  He hauled her close to his excited sex. “Want to relive your misspent youth?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He tweaked her nipple, causing her to squirm in his arms. She may be new territory to explore, but he had the road map hardwired into his DNA.

  Sweeping her into his arms, he strode to a beach shower and pulled the chain, dousing them both in tepid water.

  Yanking it again, he rubbed against her wet torso, his erection bumping against her.

  Satisfied that the sand and saltwater were reasonably washed away, he swung her up into his arms again and whistled for Jim to follow their progress up the beach to his grandmother’s house.

  By the time they’d gotten their clothes and reached the stables and had put Jim up for the night, the muscles in his legs and arms were beginning to vibrate. No doubt about it, he was getting old. There was a time he would have done what they did all night and gone back for more. Now he would like a nap.

  Of course, he couldn’t tell the sexy little number by the door how much she sapped his energy. He had promised her a walk down memory lane. He snatched a can of cocoa butter and a can of spray cheese from the shelf and led her toward his truck.

  One red-hot memory coming up.

  Meg let Tyler pull her out of the warmth of the stable, allegedly to relive a teenage memory. By the look in his eye, she would say his memories were a lot more interesting than hers.

  While he’d curried Jim, she’d eyed the hay and conjured up a few fantasies of her own. Since she and Tyler were temporary, she wanted to create as many memories as she could.

  Heck, if Tyler thought she’d been a wild bad girl as a teenager, who was she to argue?

  At the truck, he threw open the passenger’s side front and back doors and patted the backseat, his grin white in the moonlight. “Hop in, sweet thing.”

  She hesitated. How did one go about climbing into a leather backseat while naked? Not for the first time, she wished she weren’t vertically challenged.

  Hard hands bracketed her waist, hoisting her to sit on the warm leather. It felt kind of…interesting.

  Tyler grabbed a towel from the front seat and brushed the dirt and leaves from the bottoms of her feet. Sitting next to her, he took off his soaked boots and dried his feet, letting the boots drop to the ground. “Don’t want to get my truck muddy.”

  She scooted back to allow him more room. He would have none of that.

  Grasping her ankles, he said, “Okay, darlin’, let’s see if we can burn up a few of those old memories.” He turned her and placed one foot on the backseat back and one on the front-seat back, exposing her in the most intimate way possible. “Relax,” he said, patting her between her spread legs. “I won’t do anything you haven’t done before.”

  Wanna bet? Embarrassment at her position and her renewed wetness warred with curiosity as to what he would do. Curiosity won.

  He tsked and shook his head. “Such dry skin. Probably from too much saltwater. Lucky for you I have just the thing to help.” He held up a tan jar and dipped in his fingers. He plopped a large glob of whatever it was on her abdomen and began to thoroughly massage it into her stomach and breasts, paying particular attention to her nipples.

  When she tried to squirm, he grabbed her foot and slabbed on another dollop of the thick cream. “Such rough heels. Good thing I found this cocoa butter.” After working in the butter on both feet and up her inner thighs, he thoroughly massaged the remaining ointment into her folds. As wet as she was, it was a miracle the butter didn’t slide right off.

  She whimpered when he stopped, but she shouldn’t have worried.

  He produced a can and wiggled his eyebrows. “I don’t have any whipped cream. Guess spray cheese will have to do.” He designed little rosettes on each nipple and then licked and suckled off the warm cheese.

  Blowing on each recently cleaned nipple, he paused. “Hot damn, you’re gorgeous, woman.” His smile looked almost tender. “Thank you for letting me keep the door open so the dome light could stay on.”

  Strangling on her arousal, she could only nod and wait to see what he would do next.

  It wasn’t a long wait.

  Warm cheese filled each fold, then Tyler made a big production of licking off every eager cell of skin weeping for his attention.

  So close to an earth-shattering orgasm, she bucked her hips against his mouth, silently begging for release. But he wasn’t finished yet.

  Against the ever-present background of the surf, the squirting cheese was loud. Tyler circled his erection with a halo of yellow processed-cheese spread and then proceeded to totally encase his penis.

  By the time he’d finished his masterpiece, her mouth was watering. She’d always felt oral sex with other partners less than appealing. But since meeting Tyler, she’d had a definite change of heart.

  When he knelt by her head, one finger leisurely stroking her breast and commanded in a hoarse whisper, “Eat me.” She found she was more than ready, willing, and oh-so-able.

  8

  T yler gritted his teeth and focused on moving air in and out of his deprived lungs while his beach babe threatened to suck his cock dry. He would have been fine had she not decided to play with his balls while she sucked and licked and…well, you get the idea.

  In an effort to prevent embarrassing himself—damn, it felt good!—he reached between her still spread legs and drew patterns in the swollen wet folds, occasionally foraying to her engorged nub or dipping into her wetness just to hear her moan.

  Wait. That was him moaning.

  He got between her legs and nudged her feet back up onto the seats for greater access, positioned himself, and, with one powerful thrust, was home.

  Afterward he lay there, sprawled on top of her, too weak to move. What was it about this woman? He should move. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. But his body wasn’t obeying his mental signals.

  Propped on shaking elbows, body still joined with hers, he brushed away a strand of hair that clung to her damp forehead. Unable to resist, he kissed her, then rested his own damp forehead against hers. “Bring back any high school memories?” Stupid, it was the first thing he thought to say, and as soon as it was out of his mouth, he regretted it. He didn’t want to be compared and found lacking to any of her past lovers.

  She wiggled, and he promptly reversed their positions so he could take their weight.

  Damn, I could stay right here forever, he thought, loving the way her fingertip drew little circles over his heart, the warmth of her breath caressing his skin.

  “I don’t think I had the same experiences in high school that you had,” she finally said and then sighed. “I was actually pretty shy.”

  He snickered, and she pulled one of his few chest hairs.

  “Ouch!”
He rubbed his chest, capturing her hand before it could do any more damage. Their gazes met. “What’s your name?”

  Instead of answering him, she scooted out of the truck and started walking away.

  “Wait!” He scrambled off the seat and looked around for his boots. “Wait! I’ll take you home.”

  “That’s okay,” she called back over her shoulder as she bent to retrieve her dress. “It’s not far.”

  “How ’bout I walk you home?” He hopped to get his foot in his waterlogged boot.

  “No, thanks!” she called from farther down the beach.

  Standing there at dawn, buck naked, with one boot on, it hit him.

  He loved her.

  9

  M eg watched Tyler ride up and down the beach the next night from the safety of her cottage. Yes, she was a chicken. Yes, she would love nothing better than to go meet him and replay their beach-blanket boinking. And any and every subsequent boinking. But it wasn’t going to happen.

  She had to protect her heart.

  It would be too easy to fall in love with Tyler Last. Too easy to crawl into bed with him and forget the future of the beach without her support. And that wouldn’t be fair to anyone who loved the beach as she did.

  A tear trickled down her cheek when Tyler finally turned Jim and headed back down the beach.

  Alone in her bed, sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned, flipped and flopped. The covers were heavy, her nightgown oppressive, her body empty.

  She threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. Before she could talk herself out of it or remember all the reasons why it was a bad idea, she found herself standing in Miss Hannah’s kitchen, the spare key the older woman had given her for emergencies clutched in her fist.

  Around her, the big old house was quiet. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the entryway made a soft counterpoint to the beating of her heart. The wood risers of the stairs cooled the bottoms of her bare feet. The air clicked on, making her glad she’d left her nightgown in the kitchen, as she felt the cool air swirling over her heated skin, pebbling her nipples.

  She knew instinctively which room was Tyler’s, even without the leather bag with the Stetson on top next to the door.

  Wrong. It was a bathroom. A big bathroom. Almost as large as her bedroom at the cottage.

  A sound at the door had her gasping and spinning to face the intruder.

  Tyler leaned against the doorway, one arm braced above his head, his white boxers riding low on his lean hips. “Lord, if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.” He took a step into the room. “Where were you tonight?” He stretched his arm to flip on the light.

  “Don’t!” Embarrassment heated her cheeks. Her seduction plan would be so much easier to carry out in the darkness. “I, um, couldn’t make it tonight.” Her gaze drank in the sight of his gorgeous body, her womb aching for his touch. “But I had to see you.” She walked until her bare breasts touched his firm pectorals. “Touch you.” She ran her fingertip up the side of his ribs to swirl around his flat nipple. On tiptoe, she brushed her lips across his. “Kiss you,” she whispered against his mouth.

  His arms locked around her, lifting her from her feet, aligning her with his aroused body. His mouth clamped onto hers, demanding entrance, withholding nothing.

  His hands were everywhere.

  Cool wall tile touched her back. He tore his lips from hers and drew her breast into his hot mouth, suckling so hard she felt it all the way to the soles of her feet.

  She whimpered with need when he released her breast, cool air on her wet nipple amplifying the loss as he placed her legs around his waist.

  His mouth took hers in another bone-melting kiss, spinning her senses out of control.

  His iron-hard erection shoved its way into her eager body. Immediately he began to move, each thrust pounding into her, bumping her hips against the cold hardness of the tile in a delicious counterpoint to his passion.

  Climbing his body, she went wild with need. Her womb clamped like it was attempting to suck him into her very core.

  Wave after wave of pure pleasure washed over her. So powerful it brought tears to her eyes.

  A millisecond later, Tyler’s hard body became impossibly harder as every muscle clenched with the power of his release. With a roar he slammed into her one last time and then shuddered.

  Weak in the aftermath, Meg hung there, impaled against the wall, grateful for the support.

  Before she could recover, Tyler leaned, still deeply embedded, and turned on the shower.

  Still joined, he kicked away his boxers and stepped with her into the rapidly filling, plugged tub. Water sluiced over her, wetting her hair, blurring her vision, while he resumed his feast on her mouth.

  His hard hands clamped beneath her arms and lifted her until her nipples were level with his mouth.

  Meg’s senses began to reassert themselves, frustration building due to her position.

  Before she could speak, he reclaimed her lips and turned off the shower.

  Kissing, they lowered into the water, where he began a very thorough bathing.

  “I could definitely get used to this,” Meg murmured, head lolled against the back of the old-fashioned tub, eyes closed while Tyler soaped her breasts with talented hands.

  He rinsed the soap and licked her nipples. “How about this?” he asked, his breath hot against her skin.

  “Mmm-hmmm,” She tried not to squirm with her newfound lust.

  Something hard and slippery entered her, causing her to sit straighter.

  “Relax,” he crooned.

  She opened her eyes. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but she could’ve sworn his eyes blazed into hers.

  His hand held a long, slippery object. It appeared to be an elongated bar of soap. He slid it around her folds, paying special attention to her now aching nub. Her hips bucked a couple of times.

  He petted her, quieted her movements. “Easy, baby, easy.” He guided her hand to his jutting penis. “Here. Hold on to this while we get you rinsed off, okay?”

  In reply she gave a little squeeze that had him groaning.

  He splashed water over her nether regions, judiciously sliding one finger, then two, then three into her in his effort to rid her of every trace of soap.

  She would have kept what dignity she had left intact, had he not chosen that moment to wiggle his deeply embedded fingers. She screamed—actually screamed—as her climax washed over, threatening to drag her under the water with its ferocity.

  Before she caught her breath, he flipped the tub stopper and arranged her limp legs on either side of the lip of the tub. The action brought her hips up to the exact level of his mouth.

  What a happy coincidence.

  Her fingers dug into the lip of the tub while Tyler’s mouth and tongue took her up and over the threshold two more times.

  Spent, and so sexually sated she could purr, it was an effort to open her eyes when he lifted her out of the tub. Tyler’s version of drying was more caressing by terry cloth, but her muscles were now so weak she was just grateful to be still standing.

  He sat on the closed lid of the commode, his monster erection still obvious, and reality hit her, along with a tiny niggle of excitement.

  Payback time.

  She dropped to her knees on the plush contour rug and reached for the part of his anatomy literally leaping to attention.

  His hands clamped down on her shoulders, halting her short of her intended target. “Stop.”

  Stop? Didn’t her want her to pleasure him? “Why?”

  “Because I’m about near to shooting my load.” He grinned and tugged her to her feet. “I don’t want to waste it.”

  She gestured to her nudity. “I didn’t bring anything, did you?” Though their passion had precluded protection before. She didn’t want to risk it again.

  His shoulders slumped. It would’ve been comical, had she not felt so needy.

  “The only thing I have is a hard-on.” He smirked
. “The condoms are in my room.”

  She made a move for the door, but he stopped her by grabbing her hand.

  “I kind of like it here,” he said, pulling her toward him.

  “I do, too, but if we don’t have a condom, we can’t have sex.” She hadn’t lived to be twenty-six without learning anything.

  “How about if we improvise?” He reached beneath the counter and rummaged around, finally bringing out a roll of plastic wrap.

  “Why does your grandmother have plastic wrap in the bathroom?”

  “She wraps it around her hair when she conditions it, as I recall.” He ripped off a generous portion. “Let’s give it a try.”

  Her Powers of Seduction book advised being adventurous. Why not?

  Meg took the length of wrap from him and stood straddling his legs. Which, coincidently, gave him easy access to play with her while she sheathed him. He grinned and licked his lips. A definite win-win situation.

  He noted that her hands shook a bit as she carefully wrapped his throbbing cock in the plastic. The heat multiplied tenfold. Beneath his questing fingers, she was slick, wet, and obviously ready.

  He growled, low in his throat, when she slid her hands up and down his length.

  Their gazes met.

  “I’m just making sure it’s sealed,” she assured him, although he thought her lips twitched.

  He grabbed her hips and aligned her opening.

  “Ride me,” he demanded with a fierceness that surprised him.

  10

  S he lowered herself, inch by agonizing inch, until she’d taken all of him.

  With a frustrated growl he flattened her breasts against his chest and did his damnedest to remove her tonsils the hard way. Lordy, he couldn’t get deep enough.

  He grasped her tiny waist and raised her until she almost left his cock and then slammed her down again. The combined friction of her and the wrap made him feel as if he might burst into flames. He increased the pace of their combined thrusts. Faster. Harder. Again and again.