Disobedient Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

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Disobedient Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 10

by J. Rose Allister


  Her stomach began a slow simmer. “Yes,” she said, but the breathless whisper betrayed her.

  When he leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek, she froze stiff. “Prove it,” he murmured in her ear.

  “I don’t have to prove anything to you,” she stammered. “The point is, I don’t want to be with you that way.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  She pulled away. “No means no, cowboy. Or hadn’t you heard we’re not in the Old West anymore?”

  “I mean, you ain’t bein’ honest with either of us. I can sense what you want. For instance, your pulse rate is up.”

  “I’m jogging, which tends to do that.” She eyed his calm stance. “To normal people, anyway.”

  “And those magical silver-blue eyes of yours go dark whenever I’m close by,” he went on. “The scent of your pheromones sweetens the air until I’m near to drunk with it. That, my beautiful mountain Rose, is desire. And it’s what you’re fightin’ right now.”

  She shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

  “Then kiss me and prove it.”

  “You’re not listening. When I say I don’t want you, that means I don’t want to kiss you, either.”

  He put his hat back on and studied her for a moment while she struggled to get her breathing under control. “Surely one kiss to send me packin’ ain’t a big deal. How many men have kissed you, Rose? I know damn well others must have tried.”

  “A few, if you must know.” She hugged herself, grasping her elbows. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “And did you feel anythin’? Were you numb? Frustrated? Immune?”

  She paused at his prodding, but figured what the hell. “All of the above.” Excluding Stephen.

  “Then so be it. If you’re immune to my kiss, too, I’ll leave you alone. If not, have the good grace to admit it.”

  “Why is it so important to you?” She wandered farther from the road, intending to gain distance from his compelling eyes and beguiling scent. Then she realized where she was headed.

  “Because I know the truth, even if you ain’t willin’ to admit it to yourself yet.”

  His words came from right behind her, and she spun around in alarm. “Make some damn noise when you walk, would you?”

  “Sorry. So, you’ll do it? You’ll prove your immunity with one simple kiss?”

  “If that’s the only way to get you off the subject, fine.”

  She marched into the woods, where the ground was springy and the wild blend of nature filled her nose completely. The heavy pine smell was mixed with the rich aroma of damp earth and tree bark. Good. Maybe Mother Nature would help tone down Caleb’s virginity-stealing scent.

  He took her hand when they were partway in, and the feel of that strong, warm palm closing over hers sent a jolt up her arm. Things weren’t off to a promising start.

  “This way,” he said, veering right. “There’s somethin’ you have to see.”

  Why did she get the feeling he was trying to drag her farther off the beaten path?

  “This is far enough,” she said, glancing back to make sure he wasn’t pulling her completely out of view of the road. That wouldn’t be smart. Not at all.

  “Just a little farther.”

  “And what exactly do I have to see?”

  “A tree.”

  She stopped. “There are plenty of trees all around us.”

  “Not like this one.”

  As she and Caleb shuffled through rotting leaves and needles, birds called to one another excitedly through the branches as though eagerly awaiting the show. When she was about to call off the whole thing, he stopped and pointed. “There.”

  Her eyes widened at the anomalous tree standing in the clearing. The tree was large and fat, with numerous low branches that reached out to her, more stretching for the sky, and what seemed an infinite number of pale, pink blossoms.

  “Is that a dogwood?” she asked.

  “Cherry.”

  “How? Cherry trees aren’t native to this area.”

  “No one knows. Someone obviously came along years ago and planted it here.”

  “And it survived in this climate?” She wandered closer in amazement. “Unbelievable. It’s so pretty.”

  Caleb followed her beneath the tree’s delightful pink canopy, where he turned her around gently to face him. Without warning, he gripped her around her waist and lifted her up. She gave a little gasp of surprise as he sat her in the middle of a low, V-shaped pair of branches that made quite a convenient seat. Hoisting her that small amount brought her lips just above his, and she swallowed when he moved closer, pushing himself between her thighs.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and just looked at her, silent. She ignored the damning simmer in his gaze, focusing instead on the brim of his hat. The heartbeat that hadn’t finished settling from her jog sounded battle stations. If the searing warmth of his hands wasn’t bad enough, he was eyeing her with an intensity she couldn’t risk being sucked into.

  “Let’s get to it, then,” she stuttered out nervously, her sweaty palms tightly gripping the branches she sat on. “And don’t try seductive mind tricks like staring me down that way, either.”

  The smile in response parted his lips with the promise of things to come, and her stomach jumped. “Surely the other men who kissed you actually looked at you first?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “Looking into your eyes was part of the deal, remember?”

  She shook her head and frantically tossed up every mental shield she could devise to keep his model-hot looks and piercing gaze from consuming her.

  “Let go and respond to me naturally, Rose.” His lips came closer. “No fair clenchin’ that tree with your fists and forcin’ yourself to hate every second.”

  “I’m holding on so I won’t fall. Besides, why should I play fair? You aren’t.

  “I won’t let you fall. And how do you figure I ain’t playin’ fair?”

  “For one thing, you’re trying to capitalize on this whole romantic, blossoming tree thing. And you’ve perfected what is no doubt a well-practiced eye smolder.”

  “I confess to the first, but I can’t help how my eyes look. And you sittin’ there stiff as a board wasn’t the bargain. Give me the same shot as anyone else.”

  “This is pretty much what I do anytime a guy wants to kiss me.”

  “Not the last time I kissed you. You can open those pretty lips to claim the concussion was responsible for that. Trouble is, I don’t buy it.”

  The heat of his body penetrated her thighs, and while he kept himself a decent span away from the part of her that was beginning to pulse restlessly, standing inside her legs felt sinfully intimate. She was damn vulnerable to him this way, and he knew it.

  He leaned closer. She jerked, almost swaying off balance. Damn him, he probably stuck her in the tree for precisely that reason—to keep her off balance. Those eyes were scant inches away now, too, and she had to stare at his pink, moist mouth to avoid them. She licked her lips unconsciously at the sight.

  Caleb paused there, his lips so close that her mind was screaming at him to take his kiss already and be done with it before she went mad. Still, he held back until her breath came in tiny, ragged gasps.

  He took the sides of her face in his hands. “Rose,” he said in a faint but compelling whisper.

  Before she realized what she’d done, she’d given in and flicked her eyes to his. The electricity was nothing shy of magical, extending the moment between the smile he gave when their gazes connected and him closing the small remaining space to claim her lips.

  She expected him to mash himself to her mouth desperately, like she’d experienced in the supply room the day before. But this wasn’t Stephen. It was Caleb, and his soft, light kiss branded her just as it had on the couch. One kiss technically became many as he nipped and tasted every part of her lips separately, as though he were experiencing an exotic new cuisine for the first ti
me.

  Oh, shit, she thought. Her pussy was starting to tingle. Her lips were responding of their own accord, too, puckering in an attempt to mimic what he was doing to her.

  His tongue flicked out gently over her lower lip, and when her body jerked this time, she let go of the branches supporting her and gripped his broad shoulders to steady herself. This had the opposite effect, however, and she felt more unsteady than ever. Her thoughts swayed into dangerously sensual territory.

  “Open for me,” he breathed, sweeping his tongue in the cleft between the lips she was desperately trying to keep closed.

  “I thought this was supposed to be a simple kiss?” she asked.

  “Why should I play fair? You ain’t.”

  His tongue breached her mouth before she got a chance to respond. In the span of one breath, the kiss went from Caleb-light to Stephen-desperate, and he let go of her face to circle his hands around her waist. His tongue writhing seductively against hers completely obliterated the barriers she’d erected around herself. Her hands slid up from his shoulders into his hair, and the hat she’d forgotten about hit the ground. He pushed himself closer until his stomach rubbed right against the crotch of her stretch pants. Warmth flooded between her legs, some of it internal but the rest from moisture seeping from her cunt. She couldn’t help it, she wriggled herself against him and let out a whimper at the flare of pleasure.

  Their kiss fired hotter when Caleb felt her obscene motions, and his grip around her waist tightened. He sucked on her tongue, eliciting delighted shudders that traveled down her body, making calculated stops at her hardening nipples and throbbing clit. Jesus, kissing him felt good, and his groan when she raked her fingers through his dark hair sharpened her desire until it threatened to knock her right over the edge.

  What the hell was she doing? Women didn’t orgasm from kissing a guy, her least of all. It was a myth. A myth, a myth, a myth, her thoughts chanted, even as her pleasure climbed perilously near a peak. An image of him pushing his hard cock inside her drove her even higher, and she was about to topple over an impossible edge when she panicked and pushed Caleb away.

  “Stop,” she blurted, wiping her wet lips with the back of a hand. “That’s enough.”

  Her body clenched and shouted in protest, and she grabbed for the branches again to keep her quivering limbs steady.

  Caleb stood back, folding his arms as he watched her in silence. He didn’t look mad at her for stopping him, though. On the contrary, he looked mighty damn pleased with himself.

  “Admit it,” he said, shifting his hips uncomfortably. A glance down showed the thick erection straining against his black jeans. “You ain’t immune to me. In fact, you’re as ready for me to claim you while you’re spread wide in that tree as I am to do it.”

  Her thighs were still gapped open, sitting the way she was. It was a scant drop to the ground, and she jumped while still holding onto one of the branches. Good thing, too, since her legs weren’t entirely cooperating.

  “Deflowered in a flowering cherry tree?” she asked, glancing upward. “Way too derivative. Not quite what I had in mind.”

  “Thought you didn’t have losin’ your virginity in mind at all.”

  “I don’t.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Admit that you lost this bet.”

  “Oh, fine.” She kicked at the cherry blossoms lying at their feet. “You’re the bomb at kissing, okay? Happy? That still doesn’t change anything.”

  “No?”

  “I’m not staying, Caleb. I told you, my original contract was only thirteen weeks. Now I don’t even have that. If I can’t get another local assignment, I’ll be leaving much sooner. Possibly days.”

  He looked at her for a moment, silent. Then he picked up his hat and brushed off leaves and cherry blossoms before turning away. “Come on.”

  Caleb strutted back the way they’d come, and she stared after him for a moment. “Where are we going?”

  He turned, snuggling the hat down on his head. “We’re joggin’ back to your place.”

  She folded her arms. “Oh, no, we’re not. Just because you won this little challenge doesn’t mean it’s time to play ‘your place or mine.’”

  He shot her a wide grin. “I’ve got to get goin’. I’ve got a haulin’ job today, and I’d reckon you have some things to do as well.”

  “Oh.” Her insides split down the middle evenly, half relieved beyond belief, the other painfully unhappy that he was leaving. “You’re right. I do.”

  “Let’s get to it, then. Oh, and I’ll be back at one o’clock to pick you up.”

  The painfully unhappy side perked up while the rest panicked. “Is that so?”

  Caleb bolted, and he somehow wound up several trees away. His speed dropped her jaw.

  “How the hell did you do that?” she asked.

  She was still gaping in shock when he turned with a grin. “You comin’ or what? I’ll try to keep up with you, what with you bein’ a seasoned jogger and all.”

  Rose pursed her lips at the sarcasm and picked her way through the trees at a fast walk. “Why do you think you’re picking me up at one o’clock?”

  “Because I’m takin’ you on a picnic to Shay Falls.”

  That fluttered in her chest. “I just told you I’m leaving, and now you want to go on a date?”

  He shrugged and waited for her to catch up before heading toward the road. “I reckon I don’t have much time to show you the sights. Thought you might want to see that waterfall of yours before you bid this town farewell.”

  As soon as they got back to the highway shoulder, she broke into a jog. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking about it this morning. Thank you.”

  They stopped talking, but her mind was whirring a mile a minute. A picnic would be just the thing to take her mind off things—and with any luck, they would be celebrating her landing another job nearby. Then she could take advantage of the remaining time on her apartment lease. The fact that this would also keep her close to Caleb—and yes, Stephen, if she’d let herself admit it—for a while longer had nothing to do with her sudden desire to hang on to that hope. Not one bit.

  Chapter Eight

  A ridiculous grin was plastered to Rose’s face as she put the finishing touches on the bruschetta and snapped the plastic storage container closed. When a knock at the door stirred the butterfly nest in her stomach, she pulled off her apron and smoothed her skirt.

  Caleb had showered and changed clothes, too, and he looked more edible than the food she’d spent the past hour preparing. He wore a black button-down shirt that was open at the throat, along with matching denims that were too snug to be legal. The ever-present Stetson was in his hand.

  There was an awkward moment when she realized they’d both been too busy devouring each other’s appearance for a proper greeting. Even then, it was Caleb who rallied first.

  “No way,” he said in a tone of disbelief. The violet in his wide eyes was bright and clear as they traveled over her chosen attire.

  She frowned down at her dress. “I’m dressed all wrong, aren’t I?”

  “No. It’s perfect.”

  “I knew I should have worn jeans. I just figured it’s so warm that a dress would be nice. I get tired of pants when I wear uniform scrubs all the time.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  He stepped inside when she let him pass, but he turned around to trap her between him and the front door she’d just closed. As he kept eyeing her up and down, he fiddled nervously with the brim of his hat. It was an odd little quirk that didn’t seem like him.

  She kicked herself mentally for the sudden, wild impulse to wear her favorite spring dress. The A-line halter was the pale yellow of frothy egg yolks, a shade that set off her burgundy hair rather dramatically, and the bodice was low enough to show cleavage without advertising herself as a giant slut. The skirt fell from the waist in wide, innocent folds that hit just above her knees. From the way he devoured the seemingly innocent
dress, however, she might have been better off in a high turtleneck and baggy flannel pants.

  “Maybe I’d better go change,” she said.

  He shook his head. “You know how you dreamed about the waterfall?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve dreamed about that dress.”

  She gave him a warm chuckle. “Nicely put. You cowboys sure know how to charm a lady.”

  The cherry tree flashed to mind, and she pushed past him before the memory could play for long. “I made a couple things to take along,” she said, bustling to the kitchen.

  “You didn’t have to cook,” Caleb said, following her. “The picnic was my invitation, so I brought food and wine.”

  “Then we’ll have extra,” she said, slipping a salad container inside a paper bag. “Sorry I don’t have anything fancy to carry it in, though. I travel light on assignment.”

  “I’ve got that covered,” he said, leaning in to take the bag from her. Heaven’s mercy, she thought, he smelled good. Her stomach tightened at his masculine scent. “All you need to bring is yourself, an appetite, and your sketchbook.”

  “Along with pencils and a sweater,” she added. “I come well prepared.”

  Even as she said the words, she knew that wasn’t quite true. She wasn’t prepared for this “date” at all. Just handing over the bag had shaken her insides to jelly, yet there was little point to letting anything develop between them, even if she wanted to.

  “I almost forgot,” he said, holding out a ring of car keys.

  She smiled. “Forgot what, that you can’t drive?”

  “My way of saying sorry about your car.”

  Rose stared at the keys. “I don’t follow.”

  “Your car got totaled. Now you have a new one.”

  “What?”

  “Let me show you.”

  Caleb took her out to the carport, where sure enough, a blue mid-size that looked exactly the same as the one she’d wrapped around a tree sat in the visitor parking area.

  “You can’t give me a car!” she exclaimed in shock.

 

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