Love Letters Volume 6: Cowboy's Command (The Love Letters)

by Ginny Glass

  He pressed his palms to her cheeks and covered her mouth with his. The kiss might have started out impulsive and insistent, but it finished on a sigh. His or hers, it didn’t matter. Time to end the misunderstanding once and for all. Maybe, just maybe, they might be able to start again. Their breaths mingled as he rocked his forehead against hers.

  “You said you loved me.” He blurted the words. “I lived from one buckle to another and you…” Swallowing his pride with the lump wedged in his throat, he withdrew enough to look her in the eye. “You were a virgin. For the love of all things holy, why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

  In the blink of an eye, she morphed into the wide-eyed innocent who handed a half-cocked bronc buster her heart. “Would you have made love to me if I had?”

  A bitter laugh sliced his throat to shreds. “I didn’t make love to you, sugar. I screwed your brains out.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Chagrined by her whispered admonition, he lowered his head, unable to look her in the eye. The memory of his clumsy seduction still filled him with the most perplexing mix of embarrassment and satisfaction. He’d been her first, but he’d had no damn clue until he heard her choked gasp. By the time he realized it was way too late. The hot, wet walls of her pussy closed around him. The warm give of her body drew him deeper and deeper. Shame flared in his gut each time he recalled the strangled cries of the pleasure he inadvertently managed to give her. She’d whispered words of love he hadn’t earned and rained the sweetest kisses over his skin.

  And he’d bolted like a bull from the chute.

  He’d played the moment over and over again in his head in the months since that bastard of a horse busted his bones and dashed his dreams of glory. A part of him believed the accident might be some kind of payback for the way he’d treated the only girl he’d every truly cared about. The details of their disastrous night poked at him like thorns, leaving behind tender spots that never completely healed. No amount of time would ease the longing one whiff of strawberry-scented shampoo stirred. All the whiskey in Tennessee wouldn’t blot out the sound of her husky laughter or squelch the sensation of long, lean muscles quivering as he took her over the edge.

  “I did,” he said at last. He met her wary gaze and upped the ante with a wry smile. “I didn’t know you’d… If I had, I might’ve…” He gave his head a shake and let the thought drift off on a laugh. “Who am I kidding? I would’ve done just what I did. I was a jackass.” He paused, waiting until her frown of distaste settled firmly into place. “I didn’t have much experience with nice girls.” Dragging in a ragged breath, he gave it up with a gruff confession. “I’m still not sure I do, but when Chasen told me what you’d been doing and how you’d been riding…” He raised his eyebrows but kept his gaze steady. “Well, wild horses couldn’t have kept me away.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  He nodded. “Yes, but I can tell you it’s not worth it.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a single finger pressed against pillow-soft lips. “It’s not. No purse, no prize, no bit of bling is worth the pain. Ride because you need to. Race because you love it. But if you’re doing it just to win, you’ll come out the loser in the end.”

  She twisted in his grasp, but he refused to let her get away from him. Not when he was this close. Not when her heart beat against his. He stifled a smile when she pushed ineffectually against his chest.

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Well, I’d say that’s about half true,” he said, fixing her with a measuring stare. “You have changed a good bit, but I’m pretty sure deep down you’re still the same girl.”

  “You didn’t know who I was then,” she snapped.

  “You were crazy scared of bees and wasps back then. Are you still?” A little of the fight seeped from her stiff muscles, but she continued to put up a token resistance. “Your favorite movie was that stupid cheerleader one—”

  “Bring It On.”

  “And you have more Kenny Chesney on your iPod than the law should allow.” He smiled when she scoffed. “You love to bicker with my granddad, but you’re scared to stand up to your own dad. You probably still read way past your bedtime, and I’m betting you have an extra apple in your bag for Sweetpea.”

  “Cole—”

  “You loved me, and I didn’t know what to do with that. You gave me…everything you could give, and I fucked it up. Literally.” Releasing her, he took a hasty step back. Frustrated by his fumbling, he plowed his fingers through his hair and gave it a little tug, hoping to jar his thoughts into some kind of order. “Here I am again. Five minutes in the same space, and I’m all over you.”

  “Last time, I was all over you.” Her quiet reminder did nothing to calm his jangled nerves.

  “I knew better.” He winced at the swift arch of her eyebrows. “I mean, I knew myself better. I knew I wasn’t ready to give you what you needed, but I took you anyway.”

  “Did you ever stop to think maybe I got exactly what I wanted from you?”

  “You hung on to your V-card for twenty-two years so some half-drunk cowboy could punch it for you in a fleabag motel?”

  “I waited for you. I didn’t care what it took to rope you. I waited for the right moment, then I hauled you in. Just like you taught me.” The hoarse tremor in her voice sang with the truth.

  Without thinking, he reached for her once more, and damn if she didn’t step into his arms willingly. “Keep talking like that and I’m going to start thinking I was wrong all along.”

  “You were about some things,” she murmured. Dark lashes weighed her eyelids, but still her sultry blue gaze never wavered. “You were wrong about others. I knew exactly what I was doing when I kissed you.” His breath caught as she trailed a teasing fingertip along the line of his jaw. “You wanted me too. You’re sadly mistaken if you think I didn’t cop to that. If you still believe I didn’t go to your room with my eyes wide open…well, then, you’re not as bright as I thought you were.”

  “Shut up.”

  The order popped out of him. He softened it with a smile, and her eyes lit with anticipation. Soft pink lips pursed in silent challenge. A faint whiff of cherry lip balm proved unbearably arousing. This was the way it had always been between them—tease and taunt, thrust and parry. She liked to bait him, and he didn’t mind letting her. Her arched eyebrows boiled down to nothing more than a good old-fashioned “Make me.” One he was happy to oblige.

  Her lips were sweet, so sweet, but a guy had to have the perseverance to get past her salty exterior just to have a taste. She opened for him, and Cole found himself thankful for the second chance. She moved against him, restless and hungry, but he wasn’t the same guy he’d been the first time. He wanted her as much as he had that tequila-juiced night, but this time there’d be no frantic race to the nearest bed. This time, he’d be damned before he’d turn and run.

  Months of grueling physical therapy had helped him discover depths he hadn’t realized he possessed. He was held together by titanium rods and a handful of pins. He’d learned a harsh lesson and learned it well. Patience turned out to be elastic and the future fluid. Very few things in life were a constant, but Michelle was one of them. He’d never stopped wanting her. Even when they were both too damn stubborn to face the mess they’d gotten themselves into.

  He fumbled with the band in her hair. Each clumsy tug caused her to wince, but he smothered her soft gasps with his mouth. Thick, slick sheaves of sunshine-colored waves slipped through his fingers. He gathered silky strands in palms then yanked her head back roughly, a lightning bolt of desire ripping through him as he plundered her mouth. She grasped the back of his shirt, her greedy fingers scrambling over the material until she collected enough to free the tails from his jeans. Then her hands were on his bare flesh, and his brain went haywire.

  Her palms skidded over his ribs, the tips of her fingers furrowing his spine. He arched his back like a barn cat desperate for a scr
atch, and her body bowed. He groaned as her breasts flattened against his chest. He pressed against her, the need for constant contact stronger than the pull of a magnet. One of the horses nickered. A sharp prickle of awareness made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He tried to break the kiss, but his needy, traitorous lips clung to hers even as he pried her away from him.

  “Come to my place.”

  The words came out of his mouth before he even caught his breath, but he didn’t wish them back. The single-wide he’d parked on the land his grandfather had deeded him had been closed up tight since his rodeo career ended, but there was still a bed on the premises. And even if the bed was parked in a musty trailer, it was still a damn sight better than screwing her up against the wall of the barn.

  Michelle ducked her head and lowered her arms. A pink blush colored in her cheeks. For one heart-stopping minute he thought she might turn him down, but then she trailed her fingernails over the fly of his jeans.

  “Here.”

  “Jesus.” He grabbed her wrist and yanked it away from his straining dick. “I don’t wanna do this here. I want…I want to do this right.”

  “Felt right to me last time.”

  The teasing flash in her eyes did nothing to ease the guilt twisting his gut. “But it wasn’t right,” he argued. “I should have taken more time. I didn’t know…”

  She pressed her fingers to his mouth, but he wouldn’t be hushed. Not now. Not when he’d learned his lessons the hard way. Puckering a kiss to the rein-calloused pads of her fingers, he gently removed her hand.

  “But I know now.” He smiled as she searched his face, confusion clouding her eyes. “You’re more important to me than a quick tumble. You were then too. Now I understand I want what you gave me before.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he stifled it with a quick, possessive kiss. “You won’t just give your heart to me this time, sweetheart.” The acknowledgement of what he’d had and tossed away came out in a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat and swallowed his pride before pleading his case. “But give me a chance to win it.”

  Soft fingertips trailed along his jaw. He turned into the caress and the hard-edged cool she wore like a shield melted into a fond smile.

  “Here’s your chance, cowboy.” She drew a breath, and a soft rattle gave her away long before the husky timber of her voice registered. “Right here, right now. Start earning your keep.”

  “I’m not sure this’ll work. I’ve got more pins in me than your grandma’s hairdo.” He managed a flicker of a smile when she chuckled but his gut still clenched. Damn sorry shame to be washed-up and worn-out at the ripe old age of twenty-five. “There’s no way I can take you up against a wall, no matter how bad I want to.”

  Before he said another word, she threaded her fingers through his and led him into an empty stall. Her lips curved as she gripped the back of his head and kissed him hard. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and bit gently. “This is how it’s gonna be. Me pushin’, you pullin’?”

  “Yeah,” he murmured against damp lips.

  “Hot damn. That’s how we’re meant to be.” Michelle shoved him toward the pile of straw in the corner of the stall.

  “Careful with the leg.” He didn’t feel a twinge as he landed butt-first in a fluffy pile of straw, but still he glared up at her. “Please tell me this is a clean one.”

  She laughed as she straddled his sprawled legs and dropped to her knees. “Maybe.” She pounced, pushing him down on the straw.

  “Hey!”

  “Yes, it’s hay. Straw to be more precise, but you’ve been in the city awhile now. I can see how you might’ve forgotten.”

  His hands flew to her hips but then slipped down to cup her ass as she covered his body with hers. “Am I hurting your leg?”

  The breathless whisper tore at him. A helpless groan rose in his throat when she ground against him. His leg was the least of his worries. Rearing up, he reclaimed her mouth. Their tongues tangled, each lazy swirl a sensuous slow dance. He squeezed her ass as she bore down again. The heat of her arousal drove him clear out of his head.

  “I can feel you.”

  She tossed her hair back as she sat up and popped his belt buckle with a flick of her fingers. “These need to come off.” The weighted leather pulled his fly open wide as each tooth of the zipper gave in to her demands. “Off, off,” she muttered, plucking impatiently at the buttons on his shirt.

  “Michelle—”

  She pulled his shirt apart, straining the last two buttons until they cracked. “No more waiting.”

  “No more waiting.” He sat up, allowing her to slide the shirt from his shoulders. She smoothed his hair back into place with her hands bracketed on either side of his head, kissing him deeply, not giving him a moment to come to his senses. Thank God.

  She yelped in surprise when he wrapped his arms around her and flipped her onto her back. She lay breathless and flushed, her eyes bright as the summer sky as she stared up at him. Kneeling between her legs, he tugged the hem of her shirt from her jeans. “You realize it’s still daylight.”

  “I don’t care.”

  She ran her hands over his chest, raking her nails over the hair trailing down his stomach. His abs clenched and she made a little needy sound at the back of her throat. A sound he remembered all too well. The soft little grunt of surrender haunted him in the dark of night. Shaking off the grim thought, he whisked the shirt over her head. He made quick work of her bra too, anxious to feast his eyes on the high, firm breasts he’d fantasized about over and over.

  “The place is crawling with people,” he said softly as he cupped his hands under the soft mounds. Her nipples puckered and a shiver raced over her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. His mouth closed over one ripe raspberry tip and she turned to liquid in his hands.

  “No one here but us.”

  Cole lifted his head and sat back on his heels. His heart stepped it up a notch as he drank in the sight of her hair tangled in the golden straw. She raised one arm in a halfhearted but chest-tighteningly familiar attempt to cover herself. He’d forgotten how shy she’d once been and still was under her thin veneer of bravado.

  But like the night he’d stolen her innocence, he was far too gone over the girl to resist. Twisting his torso, he hooked a hand on the handle and slid the stall door closed with a resounding thud. She turned to face him when he lowered himself down onto the bed of straw next her.

  “Did you really think I was gonna stop?”

  “I was afraid you would,” she confessed in a whisper.

  “Be careful what you wish for, sugar. I’m not the foolish boy I used to be.” He traced lazy circles on her stomach, working his way lower with the same steady rhythm he once used to coax a length of rope to life. “I have a lot more control now.”

  His fingertips grazed her navel and Michelle moaned softly. He pressed his open mouth to her neck, drawing her skin against his tongue as he popped the button on her jeans. The underside of her breast proved too tempting. She moaned, and the threads of his much-vaunted control snapped. Hooking his fingers in the waistband of her jeans, he tugged them roughly over the curve of her hips. She wore pale pink bikini panties beneath.

  Cole glanced up at her as he trailed along the lace edging with the tip of one finger. “Pretty.”

  “Thank you. Take them off.”

  He grinned as he did as she asked. The lacy fabric clung to the dark curls covering her sweet pussy, allowing her one last moment of modesty and teasing him almost beyond endurance. He yanked them down to her thighs before allowing himself to feast his eyes on her. She bucked like a pony turned loose in the paddock, urging the snug denim to her knees. Rising up, she pressed her lips to his chest, her warm, wet mouth seeking and finding his nipple. He sucked in a sharp breath when she drew it into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue and teeth.

  *

  “I wanna do that to you.” He growled the words as he not so gently pushed her onto her back, pinning
her with a fierce glare. One hand curled over her bare thigh, he worked the bunched fabric down her shin. “I’m gonna do that to you.”

  Michelle moaned low and soft, her back arching as her eyes slid shut. The hoarse rumble of his voice combined with the rasp of rough hands on her skin made her want to climb the walls.

  Or him.

  Whichever.

  Each slow, mindful caress made her feel feminine and cherished. Every demanding squeeze, suckle and pinch served to prove his desire. Everything about him was intensely easy but mind-bogglingly exciting. He smelled, tasted and sounded like the Cole she loved, but this man, this tender, passionate, commanding lover intent on stripping her bare, was an entirely different animal.

  “Boots.”

  Her ancient Ariats landed near the door with twin thumps. She barely had time to draw a breath before damp lips brushed the tip of one breast. Cole’s thumb trailed lazily over the tender skin inside her thigh as he circled her nipple with his tongue. Michelle whimpered in frustration and then breathed a sigh of relief when he opened his mouth and drew her into the velvety warmth.

  But relief turned into raw, hungry need. She dug her heels into the hay and lifted her hips from the bedding. He chuckled but seemed happy to oblige. Calloused fingertips grazed the damp, swollen lips of her pussy. She gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations zinging through her. His demanding mouth and gentle touches wreaked havoc on her poor beleaguered heart. The blood rushing in her ears matched the tempo of the pulse throbbing deep inside her. Those maddening featherlight strokes tapped the dregs of her reserve. She undulated, desperate for more of him.

  Cole raised his head, laboring to fill his lungs with air before he swooped down on her other breast. At last he parted her folds and dipped just the tip of his middle finger into her.

  “Oh yes.”

  Her head fell back as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and worrying it with his tongue. The soft strokes of his fingertip pushed her to the edge of reason. A gnawing, desperate need she’d never encountered ate away at her. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she imagined the dallying digit as his tongue. A flash fire of long-repressed dreams and desires burst into flame. Lost to everything but the all-consuming ache he stirred in her, she pressed her palms to his shoulders and pushed, urging him lower, frantic to have him where she needed him most.