by Patti Berg
But that didn’t mean he planned to loosen the rope.
“What are you going to do?” she asked softly.
“For starters—” He grinned, lightly caressing her cheek. “I’m going to apologize for the investigation. If I’d known as much about you then as I know about you now, I would have known you weren’t a con.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Every word. As for the charade—it’s over.”
“You told Lauren?”
“I haven’t had time, but I will first thing tomorrow. I know that doesn’t make us exactly even, but I’m gonna look at it that way.”
She stared at the rope, at his fist holding the knot against her belly. “I’m all tied up. That doesn’t seem too even to me.”
“I didn’t say you were out of trouble. I just said that there’s no money standing between us. No charade. No job. I want you, Sam, for purely selfish reasons.”
“As far as apologies go, that one’s somewhat acceptable. So what are you going to do now? Let me go?” she asked, struggling far too passively to make her efforts look real.
“Actually, Sam, I’m going to drive you out of your mind. Slowly. Very slowly. I’m going to make you forget about leaving. I’m going to make you beg me to stop at the same time you’re begging me not to stop.”
Sam dragged in a deep breath and willed herself not to cry. He wanted her even though she’d lassoed him and pulled him off his horse. Even though she’d left him stranded out in the cold.
This wonderfully erotic thing going on between them wasn’t a charade. It wasn’t a job—he wanted her, really and truly wanted her.
And she wanted Jack Remington.
“You know, Jack,” she said, enjoying the feel of his fingers toying with the elastic on her panties, “this is a little, well, awkward. Wouldn’t you like to just go to bed.”
He shook his head slowly. “We’ll get to bed eventually, unless you holler stop. Right now, I want you right where you are.”
He hauled her a little closer, and she made no attempt to struggle. Telling him to stop was the furthest thing from her mind. Pulling the white shirt from her hands, he tugged it from under the rope and threw it behind him. His gaze blazed over her body and she felt herself begin to tremble.
Reaching out, he hooked a finger under one bra strap and she could feel the heat of his knuckle as it slid over her skin, all the way down to the cup.
She swallowed hard as he stared at the silk covering her breasts, at the pale white skin of her stomach, and the tiny triangle of diaphanous green fabric that masqueraded as intimate lingerie.
“Are those the panties and bra you swore I’d never see you in?” he asked.
She nodded slowly, and smiled. “All three hundred and twenty dollars’ worth.”
His gaze trailed back up to her eyes. “Do they only come in green?”
“I remember seeing them in pink. They were in yellow and lavender, too.”
He traced the plunging top of the bra, his rough fingertip burning her tender, oh-so-sensitive flesh. “Call the store tomorrow,” he ordered. “Tell them to send you a set of each—overnight FedEx—and charge them to me.”
“Why?”
“Because I like them. I like looking at you in them.”
He let the rope drop between them and slipped his hands over the soft curve of her bottom. His head lowered, and he slid the tip of his tongue along the top edge of the panties. Her insides throbbed, and she reached out and wrapped her hands around his neck to keep from crumpling.
He caressed her thighs from the outside to the inside, his fingers tantalizing her senses, making her throb with desire as they reached between her legs and skimmed slowly over the silk that was so thin he might as well have been touching her skin.
Gooseflesh rose on her arms and her legs quivered. A deep, pulsing need rumbled inside her.
“Make love to me,” she begged.
“That’s what we’re doing, Sam. Very slowly.” He leaned back in the chair, casually watching her breasts rise and fall. “Now, why don’t you take off your bra.”
“Wouldn’t you like to do it for me?”
One eyebrow rose as he shook his head. “I want to watch.”
Breathing became difficult. She’d never done a striptease before, never let a man study her body—but she was enjoying every moment.
She took one step away from the intense heat of his body, but not so far that he couldn’t reach out and grab her if she succumbed to the euphoria that was making her weak. Her eyes trailed down his dusty shirt, to the big silver buckle he wore, and even lower. She could see that he was more than ready, yet he was trying to look cool and in control.
He’d started this little game. But it was one she could play just as well.
Slowly, she drew one bra strap over her shoulder until it dangled at her elbow. She did the same with the second, watching the way his eyes burned as they traveled from her face, to her shoulders, to her breasts. His Adam’s apple rose and fell in time with his chest. She circled her silk-covered nipple with her index and middle finger, and listened to his sudden intake of breath.
She couldn’t believe she was doing these things, but she wanted to do them—for Jack.
For herself.
Seduction was much more fun than she’d ever imagined.
She stuck two fingers in her mouth and drew them out slowly, then ran them over her chin, along her neck, between her breasts and all the way down to the top of her panties. “Want more?” she asked, swirling them around her navel.
A slow smile touched his lips as he nodded.
She reached behind her and released the hook on her bra, then let the silk drift down to the floor. Heat rushed through her face when he looked at her like a man ready to consume every ounce of her flesh. He reached out, and she stepped back. “No touching, Jack. Not yet.”
“I thought this was my little game.”
“This isn’t a game,” she said, cupping her breasts in her hands, swirling her thumbs over her nipples. “It’s foreplay.” She licked her lips. “Stand up, Jack.”
He rose slowly, his eyes following the movement of her fingers.
“Take off your shirt,” she instructed. “It’s my turn to watch.”
With agonizingly slow movements, his fingers moved down the buttons, releasing each one, then tugging the shirt from his body. The light from the fire she’d lit in the hearth glimmered on his skin. Muscles rippled on a hard, flat stomach. They bulged in his arms, recounting years of wrestling bulls, roping steers, and working from sunup until sundown.
Game playing ceased to be fun once her body began to ache with need. She wanted him to wrap her up in his arms. Wanted him to carry her to bed.
She beckoned him with the curl of her finger.
But he didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at her, his eyes growing hotter by the moment. It was her turn to swallow, and she knew she’d just lost all control of the game.
“Come here,” he said, his voice deep and raw.
Like a woman in a trance she moved toward him. His big, rough hands spread over her belly and wrapped around her waist, and before she knew what had happened he swept her up in his arms.
“Is this what you want, Sam?”
She nodded, as he laid her down on the bed and straddled her thighs. She could feel the leather of his boots at her calves, could feel his jeans brushing her skin. His big silver belt buckle gleamed in the light from the bed lamp.
He caressed her breasts and lowered his body over hers. The instant their lips touched, sparks flew. Great, huge soaring bolts of electricity that could easily set the room on fire.
Cold silver rubbed against her belly, while Jack’s warm hands swept down her sides and whispered over her legs. In one swift movement he spread them apart and pulled them over his shoulders.
He looked up at her and grinned. “Hold on tight, Sam. You’re in for the ride of your life.”
Even if she’d wanted to protest, s
he couldn’t. She lost all control the moment his fingers pushed her panties aside and his dangerously hot tongue swirled over the very center of her being.
She latched on to his hair like a pair of reins, but instead of pulling him to a stop, she gave him leeway to do whatever he wanted.
What he wanted, apparently, was to drive her out of her mind as his teeth nipped gently, and his tongue circled her over, and over, and over again.
“Make love to me,” she begged for the second time, but he looked up at her and laughed.
“We’ve been making love since you pulled me off Pecos’s back today.” He licked her again. “Keep begging, Sam. I’ll know when it’s time to stop.”
She could feel the pad of his thumb against her, rubbing, teasing, while his mouth ravaged her and made her buck.
A moan escaped from down deep in her throat, and he looked up at her. “You like that?” he asked, watching her eyes.
She nodded.
He did it again and again and when he didn’t think she could take any more, he rose, pulled her panties from her legs, and released his belt buckle.
She was gasping for breath when she raised up on her elbows and watched him unzipping his jeans. “Oh, God, Jack. Have I died and gone to heaven?”
“Not yet.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rid himself of his boots and every last stitch of clothing. He’d thought about dragging her into the shower with him, but he was about ready to burst, and all he wanted was to press her into the bed and bury himself inside of her.
Jerking open the drawer in the bedside table, he searched for a foil pouch. He found a cigar, a lighter, and a set of keys, but the damned condoms were missing.
“Hell!”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up in bed beside him.
“No condoms.”
“Never fear.” She slipped off the bed and strolled slowly across the room as if he could hold on forever. She had him so turned on he was afraid he was going to explode just watching her.
The moonlight flooding the room glistened on her body, over every silken curve as she bent over and fumbled through that damn black tote she always carried around. Finally, she turned and smiled. “I got these on the way to the airport—just in case.”
She held a black box in her hands, and when she dumped it upside down condoms rained onto the floor. She scooped one up and tossed it to him, then walked with that sexy and provocative sway toward him. Her breasts bounced, her thighs rubbed together, and he drew in a deep breath.
She plucked the pouch from his hands. “May I?”
He chuckled low. “Be my guest.” He tried not to lose himself in the feel of her fingers working the condom over every hard inch of him, cupping him, squeezing him, rubbing her hand up and down over him while her naked hips gyrated right in front of his eyes.
When she was done, she crawled ever so slowly onto the bed and held out her arms. “I’m ready, Jack.”
He loved her.
All doubts had just flown out of his mind.
Stretching over her, he captured her mouth, tasting her sweetness, and nudged her legs apart. He felt her wrap them around his waist, felt her fingers nestling into his hair as he eased himself into her, and with a rhythm as old as time, he began a leisurely, gentle lovemaking.
This was more than lust and desire, it was the need to hold on to someone who made him feel so damn good that she pushed sanity and reason and everything else right out of his head.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, cupping his face in her hands as she lay beneath him with a smile on her face.
“I was just thinking how good it feels being inside of you.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Drive me crazy, Jack. Think later, okay?”
He laughed, and rolled over so she was straddling him. “Why don’t you show me how well you learned to ride today.”
With a grin that touched his heart and made him feel as if he’d swelled a good inch or two more, she moved up and down on top of him in the most graceful, fluid motion he’d ever seen, while waving one arm in the air like she was queen of the rodeo.
Damn!
He grabbed hold of her, flipped her onto her back, and plunged into her body. Every nerve ending screamed with pleasure as he moved in and out, faster and faster and faster.
Her fingernails dug into his back, scraping his skin.
“Don’t stop!” she begged. “Oh, God, Jack. Don’t stop.”
He moved his hand between her thighs and teased her soft, warm wet flesh, finding the spot where the friction and heat of his fingers would drive her crazy.
“Stop, Jack! Oh, God, please. Stop!”
His mouth swept over hers, swallowing her plea.
When her breathing became pants, when her moaning rumbled in his throat, when he felt the scream inside of her, he thrust one more time, and stilled, memorizing the moment, the feel of her throbbing around him, the sensations that were far more fantastic than anything he’d ever known.
Jack woke tangled in Sam’s hair and legs. The sheet covered her only to the waist, and her soft creamy flesh was right there at his fingertips, ready to explore.
He rolled over on his side, propped his head up with his hand, and played connect the dots with the freckles on her chest.
She purred in her sleep, and he enjoyed the sound. He could see the movement of her eyes beneath the almost transparent skin of her eyelids, and when he lightly swirled his fingertip over her nipple, enjoyed watching it wrinkle and harden under his touch.
“I could lie here and let you do that for hours,” she whispered.
“That’s what I had in mind. It’s Sunday—time to relax. Everyone should be leaving for church when the sun comes up, and the house will be quiet, except for the sound of you moaning.”
She smiled. “I’ve never been to church,” she confided, her voice soft, hesitant, as he rested his hand on her belly and watched the play of emotions on her face. “Well, that’s not exactly true. I did go once.” She opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “Mama didn’t come home one Sunday morning. I’d heard what sounded like gunshots during the night, and I was afraid something had happened to her. She’d taught me how to pray when I was little, but I had the feeling that praying in bed wasn’t as good as praying in church—and I wanted God to hear my prayers to keep Mama safe. I put on my best dress—one that Mama had gotten for me at the Salvation Army—and walked to the closest church I could find.”
She turned on her side, tucked her hands under her cheek, and watched his eyes when she spoke. “An old lady came up to me. I remember everything about her. She had on a pink sweater with a fur collar and a matching pillbox hat. Her skin was dark brown and wrinkled and she had circles of rouge on both her cheeks that was nearly as red as her lipstick. “I don’t think you belong here, honey,” she said. “This church is for colored people.”
Jack swept a curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Did you stay?”
She shook her head. “They were singing and praising the Lord and shouting hallelujah and I knew the lady was right. I didn’t belong there. Besides, my prayers had always been rather quiet, and I decided maybe Mama was right.”
“About what?”
“That going to church didn’t matter all that much. That being good inside was what really counted.”
“I would have liked your mother.”
She scooted close and kissed him. “She would have liked you, too.”
Jack slid an arm under her waist and pulled her on top of him. He felt himself swell and harden and watched her sit up and lower herself until he was sheathed tight inside. He didn’t consider himself a very religious man, but right now he was having a very heavenly experience.
She smiled as she rode him, slow, easy, teasing the hair on his chest and belly with her fingertips. Closing her eyes, her head fell back as her breathing deepened, and she tested different angles, getting the most pleas
ure out of every up and down stroke.
Rolling her beneath him, he took over, making soft, sweet love with her. This wasn’t fiery like before, this was tender, joyous, a time for watching the different degrees of delight sweeping across her face. And then he kissed her, holding her tight as they exploded together, sharing a moment in time that was so phenomenal that he wanted to rise up and shout hallelujah!
nineteen
Jack shot up in bed when he heard the coyote howl. It was close. Too damn close.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, rolling over in bed, sliding her arms around him.
“Coyotes. Listen.”
He heard the howls again, and this time the chickens raised a ruckus. When the horses started kicking at the fence, he rolled out of bed, pulled on his jeans and shirt, and ran down the stairs. He grabbed a rifle from the mudroom, shoved his feet into his boots, and burst through the back door, out toward the corral.
Pecos, Belle, and Diablo were lit by the moonlight. They were restless, their eyes wide with fright as they ran around the enclosure.
“Damned coyotes!” Crosby muttered, pushing open the gate. He closed it behind himself and walked up to Diablo, calming the gelding with gentleness and inbred horse sense.
“Are you going to go after them?” Sam asked, standing at Jack’s side, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans to keep them warm.
“Yeah. They’re getting too damn brave, thinking they can come around here in the middle of the night.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I might be gone for a day or two. Think you can stand it here without me?”
She looked at him and grinned. “I’m going with you.”
Jack frowned, and shook his head. “You’re not doing any such thing. You barely know how to ride, and you definitely don’t know how to shoot.”
She rose up on the toes of her boots and looked him in the eye. “I know how to keep you warm, and if you’re out all night, you just might need something more than a bedroll.”