Cheyenne's Lady

by Mindy Neff

“I know. That’s why I like to give them.” He sniffed her hair again, combed his fingers through the length. “You don’t consider yourself extraordinary when you are. You don’t play off your looks when you could easily do so.”

  “Oh, no, I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. But you don’t. That’s why it’s such a pleasure to give you compliments. Honest ones.” He let go of her hair and leaned back on the bench, enjoying the night and the way the colored lights on the barn glittered across the snow.

  “I was engaged once to a very beautiful woman.” He wasn’t sure why that popped out.

  “You were?”

  She sounded so surprised. He didn’t take offense. “For all of two days. Her name was Linda. And she did need compliments. Thrived on them. But they were never enough. She flaunted and flounced and used her looks to every advantage.”

  “What happened?”

  “She decided city life was more her speed. Couldn’t see tying herself to a small-town sheriff on a modest mustang ranch.”

  “Then why in the world did she accept your proposal?”

  He raised a brow. “Passion can make a person say things they regret in the light of day.”

  “Oh.”

  He glanced at her, knew he didn’t need to supply details.

  She reached for his hand, surprising him. They sat quietly for a moment, listening to the horses shifting and murmuring to each other, watching the shadows of the moon and Christmas lights casting colorful rainbows in the snow.

  “I’m sorry she hurt you,” she said softly, her breath puffing in the cold air.

  Cheyenne shrugged. “It was for the best. Better to find out before the wedding.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind me saying so, she sounds perfectly awful.”

  He felt a grin tug. “I don’t mind. Did you take the kids to the beauty shop with you?”

  “No, Mildred and Opal watched them. I’m surprised you didn’t know that. I’m told there was a crowd of grandmotherly types at the boardinghouse.”

  “I didn’t make it back to the station until after two.”

  “Oh, I was already at the doctor’s office by then.”

  His heart somersaulted. “Everything okay?”

  “Perfect. The babies have each grown an inch and gained two pounds.”

  “And you?”

  The words hung in the cold night air as she looked at him. Steadily. With a hint of challenge. “One hundred percent back in commission.”

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and tugged at his hat. “I wish you hadn’t told me that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s going to keep me awake.”

  “Seems a shame to stay awake thinking about something when you could be doing something about it.”

  He swore and came up off of the bench like a shot. “Damn it, trouble. We’re not going down that road.”

  “Then what was that kiss about in the bathroom this morning?”

  “Hormones.”

  “Well, if you want to talk about hormones, I’ve become somewhat of an expert on them lately.”

  He glared at her. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “You.”

  His hands fisted at his side as though that would keep him from reaching for her. She knew he wanted her. And darn it all, her hair was fixed, her nails done, toes painted and she’d shaved her legs. The babies were sleeping like lambs.

  She stood and went to him, raising a brow when he took a step back. She didn’t have a whole lot of experience seducing a man, but this one was worth it.

  “Will you answer a simple question?”

  “You rarely ask simple questions, trouble.”

  “Do you want to make love with me?”

  His chest rose and fell, his breath puffing out in front of him in a white cloud of vapor. “This wasn’t part of the bargain.”

  “Bargains change.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “More than I ever thought I could.”

  He looked into her eyes, took her in with his steady gaze, his utterly complete focus. She saw the beginning of surrender. His fingertips were cold against her cheek, featherlight, unsteady.

  The brim of his hat brushed her head as he leaned down, his breath warm against her lips. And still he watched her, studied her as though she was the only gift under the tree and he was afraid to tug on the ribbon, to unwrap his wish.

  “Do you know what you do to me?”

  She shook her head, could do nothing more. His touch was like fire against her skin.

  “I think this has been coming since we were kids.”

  A long time. She’d thought the same. “Then kiss me. Make love with me.”

  “Damn near everything inside me’s saying no.”

  Close. His lips were so close. Her heart hammered and her hands clutched at his jacket. “And the damn near part?” she whispered. “What’s it saying?”

  He reached behind her, pushed open the door and walked her backward into the kitchen. “It’s saying hallelujah.”

  Chapter Twelve

  He shut the door behind them, stripped off his coat and hers and at last indulged in the kiss he was aching for. Her warm skin smelled of vanilla. The faint scent of salon chemicals clung to her hair.

  He threaded his fingers through the thick strands, cupped her head, held her just there so he could enjoy. He could have spent a lifetime kissing her. Her lips were warm and pliant, full and giving.

  “Are you sure it’s not too soon?” He gulped in air, wondered if he could be gentle, wondered if he could be all she needed.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Oh, baby, you are definitely fine.” He scooped her up in his arms, noted the surprised look on her face. “Nervous?”

  “A little. There’s something about the way you look. Desire and danger and power. It’s exciting in a sort of forbidden way, you know? It makes a woman—”

  “A woman?” he interrupted.

  “Me. It makes me curious…and nervous…and excited.”

  He felt his mouth stretch into a grin, felt his ego swell. Hell, his whole damned body was swelling. He held her higher on his chest. His heart thundered like hoofbeats when she tightened her arm around his neck. “I like a curious woman.”

  And he loved watching bravado war with shyness. He wouldn’t have thought his Emily would be shy.

  He let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor. For all his teasing, he was nervous, too.

  This was Emily. The girl he’d thought of off and on for a lot of years. The one who’d etched a single, powerful memory in his mind with a simple act of kindness. The woman who’d carried his brother’s babies. The woman he’d never dreamed would be sharing his bed.

  He rested his hands on her shoulders, smoothed them over the soft sleeves of her sweater, linked his fingers with hers. And standing in the soft lamplight of his bedroom, he looked his fill.

  Emily tilted her head back, aching for him. Why was he just standing there, looking at her? “Cheyenne?”

  He let go of her hands, wrapped them around her hips and tilted her forward, against his arousal. She sucked in a breath, bit down on her bottom lip.

  “Let me do that for you.” He pressed his lips to hers, nipped lightly, teased and seduced. It was a kiss filled with passion and restraint. A kiss that felt both brand-new and familiar at once.

  His hands slid up her sides, pushing her sweater up. He had her bra unhooked and his hands on her skin before she’d even registered the process.

  A kernel of unease brought her out of the moment when she felt the damp nursing pads slide against her skin and fall to the floor.

  She groaned and he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, pulled her sweater up and off, pressed his lips to the upper swell of her breasts. “You’re beautiful. Every single part of you is so damned beautiful.”

  His words were spaced apart as though each syllable was exquisite torture, and her nerves settled some.

&
nbsp; There was no place for embarrassment between them.

  She wanted this man more than she wanted air to breathe.

  He made her feel cherished with his reverent touch, his words, his single-minded attention. His velvety brown eyes roamed her like a caress, filled with approval and appreciation.

  “Lie back,” he said, and eased her onto the bed, undressing her and then himself. He kept his boxer shorts on and she started to comment on the unfairness of that, but he moved her against his side, his chest brushing her breasts, his fingers dancing gently over her sensitized skin, and she lost every thought in her head.

  “I guess a woman fresh from the beauty shop ought to be appreciated.”

  “I guess.”

  She’d indulged in a day of pampering. And it wasn’t over. He seemed determined to extend that pampering into the night. The feel of his fingers combing through her hair raised chills on her skin. The pad of his thumb stroking her jaw made her burn.

  Slowly, oh, so slowly, he caressed her neck, her shoulders, brushed the outer swell of her breast, taking his time, his gaze feasting.

  “Shouldn’t you turn out the light?” Her breast size had evened out some, but they still weren’t perfect.

  He shook his head. He was propped on an elbow beside her, gazing down at her as though she were a goddess.

  “I want to see you.”

  “I’m not…my body’s not…” Firm she would have said, but he laid a finger over her lips, then replaced it with his own lips, sipping, stroking, worshiping. His tongue swept the seam of her lips, yet never entered.

  “Your body’s perfect.” He said the words against her mouth, then cupped her hip, drew her closer to his arousal, slipped his hand over the swell of her behind. “Soft and warm. Just right.”

  Oh, he made her feel just right. She knew she wasn’t model material, but she wanted to be beautiful for him tonight.

  Emotions welled up so strong she felt a lump rise in her throat, felt her eyes burn. She didn’t know why. There was no reason for tears.

  She reached for him, wrapped her arms around him, held him as tightly as she could, wondering if he could feel the emotions all but bursting inside her.

  “Easy,” he murmured. “We’ve got all night.”

  Oh, but they didn’t. The babies would wake soon. And if he didn’t hurry up and finish what he’d started—actually what she’d started—she would surely die.

  “I think I’d like you to hurry a little.”

  His lips canted into a sexy smile that made her stomach flutter. “A little?” The maddening man stroked her from neck to knees, slowly, thoroughly, setting her ablaze.

  “A lot.” Was that her voice? All breathy and panting?

  His lips followed the path of his hands. “Uh-uh. Relax, Ms. Business Lady. I’ve a mind to be the chairman tonight.”

  He could be the president of the United States for all she cared. She just wanted him to hurry.

  And in the next instant she decided hurrying wasn’t quite so important. His clever lips were doing something incredible to her palm, her wrist, the underside of her arm. And always, always, those deep-brown eyes watched her. Maybe they could go ahead and linger just a bit. Savoring was a good thing. And that was exactly what he was doing to her. Savoring. Thoroughly. Reverently. With a skill that astonished as much as it thrilled.

  She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations, and when his lips brushed the inside of her thigh, she nearly shot off the bed. Her hips arched and her hands fisted in his hair.

  “I don’t think—”

  “That’s right. Don’t think.” He kissed her in the most intimate way a man could kiss a woman. Softly, surely. And Emily felt the blood roar in her head, pound in every secret pulse point in her body. No man had ever done this to her. She’d never let anyone so close, so intimately close.

  It wasn’t a matter of letting Cheyenne. He simply took.

  And he gave.

  Oh, he gave. Without apology, without hesitation, without expectations, with skill and verve and gentleness. She couldn’t stand it, felt as though she were flying, soaring among the stars.

  She tugged at his shoulders, needing…needing… “I need…”

  He eased up her body. “Shh. I know what you need, baby.”

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist. Her hands stroked everywhere she could reach, her lips pressing kisses to his jaw, his hair, his cheek and at last his mouth. With more haste than finesse, she managed to rid him of his boxer shorts.

  “Now. Please, I need you now.”

  Her eyes were squeezed shut. She tried to find an anchor in the storm that raged inside her. She’d never felt so out of control. It scared her.

  She moaned, pressed against him, tried to tell him with her body what her tongue couldn’t seem to form into words.

  “Look here, trouble.”

  His voice, deep and soft and raw with passion, reached out and wrapped around her. She opened her eyes.

  And saw her own desire reflected back.

  Slowly, oh, so slowly, he entered her. She couldn’t look away from him. She was falling, falling into his eyes, this man, his touch, his soul. She felt every slow slide of his body joining with hers.

  She tried to hold back, to savor, but the sensations were too much. Her body pulsed, throbbed, and desire grabbed her in the throes of something incredibly radiant, incredibly blinding as the orgasm ripped through her, turned her blood to fire and her limbs to liquid.

  He held himself still, pressed higher, harder, letting her ride the wave, waiting, just waiting. The ripples seemed to go on and on.

  Coherency had barely returned before he was sweeping her up again, moving, stroking.

  She hadn’t known her body could respond like this and so soon. But that electrifying sensation was building again. He kissed her, drank from her lips, stroked her with an intoxicating expertise she was helpless to resist.

  Oh, this man knew exactly what to do, when to do it.

  “Cheyenne…” She didn’t know what she was asking for. An anchor to cling to? A map of what was to come? The feelings roiling inside her frightened her. She didn’t understand. Didn’t have experience. Was flying blind.

  “I’m right here. Hold on to me now.” He slipped his hand between them, stroked the very core of her femininity and thrust high and hard, faster and faster. Her body spasmed again and again. Colors exploded behind her lids. A kaleidoscope of desire and love.

  And when she thought she could feel no more, he took her higher still, pushed, demanded, hovered with her at the very brink of madness, then toppled them both into the abyss.

  WHEN HIS BRAIN cleared enough for him to remember his own name, Cheyenne swore. He rolled with her, tucked her against his side, stroked her damp brow. “Are you okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I should be horsewhipped. I should have been more careful with you.”

  She reached up and covered his lips with her fingers. His heart thudded all over again. Just a simple touch and he lost control.

  “I’m fine. More than fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She pushed him to his back, rolled with him, propped her crossed arms on his chest, her soft hair falling forward to tickle his shoulders. Aligning herself on top of him, she gave a wiggle that had his body jumping to life.

  Hell on fire, that had never happened before.

  Her green eyes were full of spunk and sparkle. “Do I need to prove how okay I am?”

  He ran his hands over the curve of her spine, cupped her bottom, pressed her against his reawakening arousal.

  “Mmm,” she murmured.

  His heart swelled in a way that scared him to death. He brought her face to his, kissed her with every ounce of tenderness he could muster.

  When he eased back, her eyes were wet with tears.

  “Damn it, I did hurt you.”

  “No,” she whispered. “I just feel…happy.” She gave a watery laug
h, rolled off him and snuggled against his side. “You could bottle those kisses. Potent stuff.”

  He still wasn’t convinced. He’d never had a woman go all misty when he’d kissed her. “Just the kisses?”

  “Well, the rest of it, too. I don’t mind telling you that was pretty incredible. I’ve never…”

  “Never what?”

  His arm tightened around her, holding her close. Her hand idly stroked his chest, back and forth.

  “Um, nobody’s ever kissed me in…in that other way.”

  His being the first to give her a new experience made him feel special. Possessive.

  “Thanks,” she whispered.

  God, she made him feel ten feet tall. “It was my pleasure, trouble.”

  She gave his chest a light pinch. “Don’t you make fun of me.”

  “Never.” He kissed her hair to show her he was dead serious. “I like being your first.”

  “When I was a girl, I used to dream that you would be my first.”

  His hand stopped in midstroke on her arm, resumed. “I’m glad I didn’t know that. I’d have gone to jail for sure.”

  She smiled against his side, her eyelashes tickling his chest. “You were a tough guy. I don’t think I could have talked you into initiating me sexually.”

  He was damned glad she hadn’t put him to the test. He’d like to think he would have resisted, not stolen her innocence. But Emily had always had a potent effect on him.

  “You never speak about your mom,” she murmured.

  Hell, from one explosive subject to another. Then again, being with Emily was like sitting on a powder keg. One wrong move, and she could ignite emotions he’d spent a lifetime keeping a lid on.

  “You don’t have to tell me about her if you don’t want to.”

  “Do you remember seeing her?”

  “Once. She was very beautiful.”

  “Yes. And social. I think that’s what my father fell for. She looked like a delicate flower with a waterfall of raven hair. I remember her dancing. It was like she didn’t walk anywhere, she floated or danced.”

  “And your dad fell in love with her spirit?”

  “Probably. And ended up killing it. Their marriage wasn’t accepted by my mother’s people. My dad was a dreamer. I think my mom counted on him taking her away, figured they’d have these grand adventures together, traveling and living on fun. But fun didn’t pay the bills. We hardly had anything.”