A Rancher’s Surrender

by Michelle Beattie

He swallowed back something that tasted like denial. No, he wasn’t thinking that way about Jillian, he simply realized he’d never been this…volatile around Amy.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  Why what? But then he remembered what he’d said before his mind had veered off course.

  “Because you’re smart and pretty. Because you’re tough. Not many women would have stood up to Steven the way you did.”

  “My legs were shaking so badly, I could almost hear my knees rattling.”

  “I’d never have guessed.”

  “Comes from living in a man’s world, I suppose. I don’t dare show weakness, it’s only one more thing they can use against me.”

  “Must get tiring.”

  She sighed. “You have no idea.”

  He touched her cheek, let his hand linger over the softness. “You don’t have to pretend around me.”

  Slender fingers wrapped around his, held him there against the warmth of her face. Something shifted in her eyes. The sadness melted away. What replaced it shot straight through Wade.

  “Jillian…”

  Her grip tightened. “I’m sorry for everything that happened tonight, I truly am. But is it wrong that one of the things I’m most sorry for is that we never got the opportunity to dance?”

  Dance. He took a relieved breath. That he could manage.

  Wade stepped off the porch, held out his hand. “Miss Matthews. Would you do me the honor?”

  Her eyes widened. “Here? Now?”

  “Come on, Jillian. You’ve faced worse. I’m actually a decent dancer.” He teased.

  A thousand stars lit up her face when she smiled. He might have been standing in a dirt yard, dressed in simple pants and plain blue cotton shirt, but he suddenly felt like a king.

  She placed his jacket on the porch. Her hand fit perfectly in his as he moved them away from the house. Her body felt even better when she stepped into his embrace. The warmth of her, the feel of her, all the wonderful, mysterious scents of a woman encircled him, blurred the edges of reason. Want. Need. Wade felt as though he were on top of a mountain, about to lose his footing.

  How bad could the fall be?

  *

  It was even better here. There were no judging stares to worry about, no need to keep to propriety to keep tongues from wagging. If she wanted to step a little closer to Wade who was there to condemn her? To start gossip about her in town? Here there was only the moon, the damp air, and the man who held her firmly yet tenderly in his arms.

  She’d always thought him rugged, but with shadows darkening his face, with the moon playing in his hair, he seemed mysterious. And appealing. Very, very, appealing.

  His fingers flexed around hers almost as if he’d read her thoughts. Dark eyes fell to her mouth. Her hand had been resting comfortably on his shoulder but she moved it now as a recklessness she’d never experienced before drove her to seek what she most wanted.

  What she wanted most was to kiss him.

  Her fingers slid up the back of his neck, delved into the cool silkiness of his hair. She stopped moving, pressed her body to his. Her heart raced as he watched her intensely, as his own hands wrapped around her back.

  He leaned down, pressed his lips to hers and held there for a few seconds. For a moment, a terrible moment, she thought that was all he was going to do, kiss her chastely then tell her goodnight. But his tongue stroked her lips, teased until they trembled open on a sigh.

  He sank into her. Claimed her. Hot and hungry, his mouth took hers until she was deaf to everything but the blood surging through her veins, blind to everything but what her body ached for.

  Her hands dropped to his shoulders where she clung. Underneath her palms, wide, strong shoulders kept her anchored. Yearning pooled in her breasts and lower still, surprising her. His kiss continued to take, his tongue left no part of her mouth untouched. Aching, restless, she shifted against him. His chest rubbed against hers and her nipples reacted immediately. The sensation was delicious, forbidden. Jillian did it again.

  Wade pulled her hard against him. Jillian was a doctor. She knew what pressed against her. But she was also a woman, a woman with desires. Her breasts were heavy, weighted with need. Where his arousal pushed against her, she was wet and throbbing.

  “Jillian.” He panted, pulling his mouth away. He rested his forehead on hers. “We have to stop.”

  “No, we don’t,” she whispered. “Come inside.”

  His eyes were dark and tortured when he looked at her.

  “I know exactly what I’m asking, Wade.”

  He shook his head, though he continued to hold her firmly against him. “Don’t tempt me, Jillian. I’m trying real hard to be a gentleman. I don’t want you to think—”

  “I know what I want, Wade.” She cupped his face. “What is it you want?”

  *

  More than he deserved. More than he had a right to. It would be easy to take her. And damned if his body wasn’t primed to make love to her. Her eyes searched his, challenged him to take what was being offered.

  Her thumb rubbed his bottom lip. Her breath tickled his throat. She was more intoxicating than Silver’s best whiskey and he already knew her taste was unequaled. He throbbed for her. Throbbed to sink into her, to hear his name on her lips as he drove her over the edge. But he couldn’t. She’d never be content to be a rancher’s wife, she’d always want more. He’d never be enough.

  “I want you, Jillian,” he admitted because he respected her enough to give her the truth. “I want to make love to you, but I can’t make promises. The ranch is in dire straits, I have Annabelle to consider and—”

  “I don’t need promises,” she whispered.

  “You do. You should. You deserve them.”

  “I deserve to be held, to be cherished. I’m not asking for more than tonight, Wade. I have my own problems right now as well and I can’t make promises either.”

  Her hand slipped down his arm, took his. She stepped away until, if she moved any further, their connection would be broken. Then she looked him in the eye and said, “Come inside?”

  Hellfire.

  He’d never seen anything more seductive in his life than Jillian in the moonlight, her eyes challenging him, her voice wrapping around him. There was no denying he wanted her. Hell, he was hard and ready and his heart was pounding as though it was his first time. But he wasn’t fifteen anymore and despite his straining erection he could control his desires.

  Even if it meant a dip in the river to cool off.

  “If we did this, Jillian, you’d regret it come morning.”

  She tipped her head. “Are you sure about that? Because right now my body’s aching for you, Wade. And not having you, that’s what I’d regret come morning.”

  Oh, Jesus, he was losing the battle.

  “Are you not attracted to me?” she asked, managing to look both vulnerable and seductive.

  He wiped his brow. “You know I am.”

  “Then, come.” She tugged his hand. “Lie with me.”

  With all the blood shooting to his loins it was hard to think. Hell, it was just hard and he couldn’t think of any more arguments. Not with her looking at him that way, with him already envisioning undressing her, feeling the heat of her skin next to his.

  Without a word, Wade followed her inside.

  *

  He couldn’t give her promises, but he could give her romance. Two lanterns glowed in her small room, one from the dresser and one from the small table next to her bed. He pulled back the covers, met her gaze.

  His first thought, and he was sure he’d go to hell for it, was that she didn’t look scared or timid the way Amy had on their wedding night. Instead, she looked him in the eye and came to him. She reached within her curls for a pin but he stopped her. He’d been dying to get his fingers in her hair for too long.

  “Let me.”

  He wasn’t careful with the pins; they pinged on the floor as he released them of their duty. Auburn strands fell
in silken ribbons over his hands. His fingers plowed through them, tangled in them. Using them as leverage, he tilted her head back. Her mouth was open and ready for his and he took what she willingly offered, sipping then gulping. Her taste was a flavor he couldn’t get enough of.

  But it wasn’t only her taste he was after. He was desperate for her touch. With two hands on the material, he yanked his shirt from his pants. He reached for the buttons—he’d already left two open—but her hand stilled his.

  “Let me,” she said, mirroring his words.

  Her eyes were on her task and he hungered as he watched her face, as he felt her hands brush his chest. There were only four buttons on his shirt so it didn’t take her long. With her eyes rising to his, she grabbed his shirt and drew it over up over his chest. Her breath whispered against his nakedness as she reached to draw the garment over his head.

  The moment the shirt was free, his hands were at her waist, not to hold her, but to hold on as her splayed fingers explored his chest, from his collarbone to his belly. His mouth went bone dry when she followed the trail of hair down to the waist of his pants.

  The day she’d come to him for help she’d stared at his chest. He’d pictured this exact moment ever since. Not a damn thing compared to the feathery touch tracing over his muscles, discovering the differences that made them man and woman.

  *

  If she was dreaming she never wanted to wake up. She’d wondered what the ridges of his abdomen would feel like. Would the hair sprinkling his chest be soft or coarse? She’d never imagined his belly would twitch when her hands skimmed over it. That the hair would be a combination of soft and coarse that drew her attention over and over again. Or that a man’s nipples could get as hard as hers. Intrigued, she scraped her nails over them.

  His breath hitched. He shackled her wrists with his hands and held her arms at her sides. His mouth came down hard on hers; his tongue seduced hers until she could barely catch her breath.

  “I need to see you.” He rasped when he came up for air.

  Heart pounding, Jillian held her breath as his hands reached for her. Button by button, he moved down her blouse until the garment fell open and there was nothing between him and her breasts but her thin chemise. He cupped her through the fabric, circled and squeezed. The cotton rubbed at her nipples, creating a sweet ache in her breasts.

  His eyes found hers, held. Everything fell away but the man before her. The commotion at the dance, the regret, the hopelessness of ever being accepted in Marietta, it all slipped away like a dissipating fog until there was only this man, this beautiful man, before her.

  He captured her mouth again, and she rose to her toes to give him everything. To take everything in return. His hands moved to her hips and soon her skirt pooled at her feet.

  Her heart skipped then thudded. Clint had never done more than kiss her and hold her hand. In truth, she hadn’t minded. She realized now as Wade grabbed her chemise and began to tug it up, she’d never wanted him to. She’d never needed him to.

  It was different with Wade. In that very moment it was as though her soul needed him in order to survive.

  His lips moved from her mouth to her temple, from her jaw to her neck where he burrowed, his mouth hot and wet. Jillian clung to him as desire rippled through her, and all the ugly things Steven had said to her were swept away. She let everything fall away but Wade and the all-encompassing need she had for him.

  “Wade.” She moaned when his teeth bit down gently on her earlobe. “Touch me.”

  *

  He was going as slow as he could but his body shook with the effort. Her response was fire in his blood and it licked at him. He felt as though he were burning from the inside out.

  He rubbed against her, nearly dying when her softness enveloped him. Ending the kiss, he pulled her chemise over her head then watched as she stepped from her drawers until she stood before him in only her stockings.

  It was tempting to leave them on as she was a picture standing there wearing nothing else, but he wanted to feel every inch of her. Nothing would do but to have her completely naked, all for him. Sitting on the bed, he urged her forward, lifted her foot and propped it on his thigh.

  Concentrating only on her legs—an endeavor he deserved a medal for accomplishing—Wade eased a stocking down, inch by glorious inch, while his fingertips skimmed the exposed skin.

  He looked at her, felt the punch of satisfaction at the desire clouding her eyes. But then he felt another kind of punch just looking at her. Naked but for one stocking, her auburn hair loose and seductive around her shoulders, her mouth swollen from mating with his. Wade struggled for breath.

  “You’re stunning,” he whispered.

  He hurried more with her other stocking because, hell, he just needed her naked. When finally she was, he swooped in and claimed a breast with his mouth.

  *

  Jillian gasped. The feel of his wet mouth on her flesh hit her like lightning. Her body jolted. His hands clamped on her, held her as his tongue laved her breast. She grasped his head, held on lest she melt right then and there.

  His mouth was everywhere. It opened over her throat, licked its way to her ear. It feasted on hers until every part of her trembled, yearned. A burning heat rose within her and the room was suddenly too hot, the air too thick to breathe.

  His thumbs brushed her nipples, one then the other until they hardened into over-sensitized peaks. When she didn’t think she could take the assault of sensations, he dipped his head, enfolded the hard nub into the heat of his mouth and fondled it with his tongue.

  Her back arched. “Wade.” She pleaded because her legs were turning to water and she couldn’t stand.

  He scooped her up, placed her on the bed, and followed her down. Soft breasts met hard planes. His chest hair tickled her, teased her nipples, and kept them hard. It was glorious. But it didn’t do anything to lessen the need building lower. She was damp and achy, restless. Like a cat, she moved against him.

  *

  Wade couldn’t remember ever being this hard, this desperate. He knew he should wait, should draw out her passion, but Jillian was making it impossible. When she ground against him, the last of his control snapped.

  He captured her mouth, slipped a hand between them and claimed a breast. Her answering groan drove him, increased his pace. He took the kiss deeper, ravishing her mouth while his hand stroked her.

  Long auburn hair fanned the pillow, her full, aroused breasts showed the marks of his stubble on her sensitive skin. His pride relished the thought he’d left his mark, even temporarily, on her. He looked lower and his loins thickened.

  He shucked the rest of his clothes and finally, finally, they were both naked.

  *

  Jillian knew what mating entailed physically. But she’d never realized just how special being this way with a man could be. Her skin hummed as his hands moved over her body but it was more, so much more than that. The kisses he left on her temple, the whispers he spoke in her ear. The heat, the power of his body as he positioned himself over her, the way his heart beat against hers. It was all embracing, all part of a beautiful whole.

  And so, when his hand moved between her legs, when he played with her as though she were the rarest of instruments, she thought nothing of letting him, of glorying in the way her body responded to him. His fingers stroked, delved into her.

  “Jillian.” He moaned and she felt the hard length of him press against her leg. “I have to have you.”

  He shifted and she felt him at her center. A flash of uncertainty, like lightning across an inky sky, flew through her mind and she had a moment of panic. Once she gave herself to him there was no going back, no pretending she was innocent.

  He kissed her. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

  What was there to regret? Her heart filled to bursting. She knew what she wanted. Wade. Only Wade. The man who cared for her despite her being a doctor.

  Smiling, she cupped his face. “I want
to be with you.”

  With a searing kiss that stole her breath, he plunged into her. Her body froze at the intrusion, her muscles stretched to accommodate. Sensing it, Wade stilled, eased the kiss until it was light as a breeze, soft as silk. As her body began to surrender, he began to stroke, long and leisurely. She raised her hips, he went deeper, and the sensations made her gasp, made her reach for them again and again.

  Jillian wrapped her arms tightly around him as a storm built within her. She reached higher. For what, she didn’t know but her body seemed to as it matched Wade thrust for thrust.

  *

  Wade couldn’t stop. Her nails scraped down his back, her moans filled his ear. He pumped his hips, driving harder and harder. He claimed her mouth, plucked her nipples. She was tight, so tight. And wet and hot and—

  “Wade!”

  She clamped around him like a fist. Liquid fire poured over him. Feeling his own release coming, Wade buried his face in her neck, filled his hand with her breast, and shot to heaven right alongside her.

  Chapter Twelve

  The wind had picked up overnight and it blew through the leaves. Despite the grey sky that seemed capable of letting loose a sprinkle or two; there was no smell of rain in the air. It was almost as if the clouds couldn’t decide what they should do. Jillian stepped off her porch. It was a feeling she could relate to.

  She was still in awe of it all. How Wade had touched her body, how she’d responded. How they’d touched, kissed, and made love until he’d left in the deep, dark of night so he could be home before his mother or daughter awoke. Though she certainly wouldn’t have minded if he’d stayed, she understood why he hadn’t. And truth be told, she’d needed a little time to think as well.

  While her body hummed like a well-played violin, her mind and heart were like tumbleweeds turning from one thought to another. She hadn’t come out west to find love or get married. Between the way most men treated her and Clint’s betrayal when he’d told her she’d have to choose either him or being a doctor, Jillian had given up hope of ever finding love. She wanted to work at what her father had taught her, what she knew. What she loved.