Cowboy Untamed

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “That, too.” She headed over to her closet, grabbed the robe off its hanger and tossed it to him. “One other thing. What about Ben and Molly?”

  He blew out a breath. “Right. I need to call but what should I say?”

  “Not what I told my mother, although they may draw the same conclusion no matter what you say.”

  He shoved his arms into the sleeves of the robe. “I thought about it while I was in there with Gandalf. What if I said that a stray cat brought us together and then we discovered all the things we have in common and want to take the week to explore them?”

  “They’ll still know it’s about sex.”

  “Absolutely they will.” Although the robe didn’t begin to cover his chest, the bottom came together just enough to keep him from getting arrested. “But if I don’t come right out and announce we’re swinging from the chandeliers, we can all save face when I pick up my stuff tomorrow.” He hesitated. “I made a leap there. I never asked if you wanted me here for the duration.”

  “I do.” The hint of vulnerability in his brown eyes touched her more deeply than she wanted it to. She brushed a quick kiss over his mouth. “Call them and then go pick your ice-cream flavors while I start a load of laundry.”

  “There are choices?” He sounded like a kid in a candy store.

  “Of course there are,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the laundry room. “I take my ice cream seriously.”

  “Me, too! See, I’m not lying to Ben and Molly. We do need to explore these things.”

  Technically, they didn’t, she thought as she measured soap and set the dial on the washer. Two people with chemistry, which they had in spades, could have very satisfying sex without ever exploring their ice-cream preferences, or their love of porch sitting or their similar tastes in pizza. Sharing this info might make the connection a little more interesting but it wasn’t essential.

  At least, that was what she told herself until she walked back into the kitchen and found him with all four ice-cream cartons lined up on the counter. He was studying them with great intensity, which she found adorable. “Did you talk to Ben and Molly?”

  He turned with a grin. “I got Ben. He sounded like he wanted to bust out laughing while I stumbled through my explanation. He said to tell you hi.”

  “He’s a good guy.” She gestured toward the four cartons. “Find anything you like?”

  “I love them all. What are the chances?”

  She shrugged. “They’re popular flavors.”

  “Come on. Blueberry cheesecake? I’ve never known anybody else who loved it enough to buy a whole carton. Or did your sister get that one?”

  She wished she could blame that choice on Amethyst, but her sister could take it or leave it. She wasn’t even a big fan of ice cream in general. Sapphire was, and blueberry cheesecake had been her favorite for years. “No, I did.”

  He popped off the lid. “That’s my pick, then. There’s plenty for both of us, if it’s your favorite, too.”

  She decided there was no harm in admitting they loved the same ice cream. “It is. I’ll get us a couple of bowls.”

  “Why bother? Grab two spoons and we’re good.”

  “You’re okay sharing the carton?” She wasn’t convinced she was. The symbolism, sort of like a soda with two straws, worried her.

  He smiled. “We’ve already shared something way more intimate than ice cream.”

  “True.” The reminder flooded her with a warm, achy feeling. It didn’t make her desperate to have him right now, though. She could wait. She could also sit with him on the porch and share a carton of ice cream without imagining it as a prelude to a complication. “I’ll get the spoons.”

  8

  “I DON’T SPEND enough time outdoors.” Grady listened to the crickets chirping in the bushes next to the front porch as he rocked lazily back and forth. “As a kid I was always outside. Porch sitting at Thunder Mountain is an evening tradition, at least when the weather’s nice.”

  “The porch is one of the main reasons Amethyst and I decided to rent this house. We bought the rockers the same day we moved in.” She passed him the container of ice cream. “Your turn.”

  “Thanks. This is delicious. I’ve been so busy lately that I’ve scrounged whatever food I could find in the kitchen. I ran out of ice cream weeks ago.”

  “That can happen when you’re involved in your work.”

  “Yep, and I get to the point where I don’t care what I eat. Liam used to stock food and sometimes cook, but summer’s his busy rafting schedule, plus now there’s Hope.”

  “Hope for what?”

  He laughed. “Sorry. Hope’s the woman Liam fell for this summer. I keep forgetting everybody around here doesn’t know her.” He took another spoonful of ice cream and sent the carton back to her. “She lives in Cody but she came up to Sheridan for Damon and Philomena’s wedding in July.”

  “You mean the wedding where you gave them a ginormous sculpture that has folks driving by their house just to see it?”

  “They do?”

  “I’m surprised Damon hasn’t told you. It’s become a tourist attraction for anyone who loves art. It’s not like there’s a steady stream of cars, although if you get any more famous, that could happen.”

  Grady winced. “I hadn’t thought of that angle. I hope they’re not upset.”

  “More likely they’re proud of being your friend.”

  “Damon’s way more than a friend. He— Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be where I am today if we hadn’t been at Thunder Mountain together. He’s the one who encouraged me to pursue a career in welding.”

  “He is? I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah.” He leaned back in his chair. “I idolized the guy. Still do.”

  “Then he has even more reason to be proud. You’re a big deal.”

  “I guess so. For the time being anyway.” He’d never taken his success for granted and never would.

  “I predict you’ll have a long career. Your work has a timeless quality.”

  “Thanks for saying so, but people can lose interest. I’ve seen it happen to others—artists with a truckload of talent. That’s why I’m glad Liam’s been investing the money for me. I don’t have much ability when it comes to that but he does. He says if I don’t buy any mansions or yachts, I should be fine for quite a while.”

  She laughed. “Do you want a mansion or a yacht?”

  “Not much reason to have a yacht in Wyoming.”

  “A mansion, then?”

  “Can’t think what I’d do with one. The barn is perfect—living space upstairs and working space downstairs. I just want to keep doing what I love.”

  “Me, too.” She handed him the carton. “I’m done. You can have the rest.”

  They’d turned the porch light off, so he couldn’t see how much was left, but a quick jab with his spoon told him there was quite a bit. “You haven’t eaten your share.”

  “I had enough. You’re the ice-cream-deprived person, not me. Enjoy yourself.”

  “Thank you. Very generous.” He tucked into it. Their quiet conversation had been great, but sex had never been far from his mind. Savoring the creamy texture of blueberry cheesecake on his tongue reminded him of other sensuous treats, ones within arm’s reach. “I’m enjoying myself quite a bit tonight thanks to you.”

  “Right back atcha.”

  “Glad to hear it. That’s the really great thing about sex.” He paused. “Can I discuss this on your porch or will your neighbors hear me and be shocked?”

  “They won’t hear you over the sound of their TVs.”

  “Good to know.” He didn’t really want to discuss sex. He felt like doing it. Right after he finished this most excellent ice cream.

  Sapphire rocked slowly back and forth. “The folks on both sides are avid fans of several shows. They’ve tried talking to me about them but I’ve only caught a glimpse of an episode or two.”

  “Too busy working, right?”
/>
  “Exactly. Some nights I stay at the barn and others I’m here sketching and planning out what I’ll do the next day. Or reading up on new glazes or a tool that creates unusual effects.”

  “So you work at the barn at night?”

  “Once in a while. Would you like to while you’re here?”

  “If I need extra time for Rosie’s sculpture, you bet. I didn’t know how you’d feel about me staying after hours.”

  “Fine with me. I might keep you company.”

  “I’d like that. Having you working next to me today was stimulating. And surprisingly, not in a sexual way.”

  “I know.”

  He glanced over at her. Soft light came through the curtains over the living room windows, but she had her back to the windows, so her face was in the shadow. “How do you know?”

  “Because I watched you submerge yourself in your work today. Your entire attitude changed. I doubt you would have noticed if I’d stripped down and performed the Dance of the Seven Veils.”

  He nearly spewed ice cream. Instead he managed to swallow it. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I would. I admire that quality and that’s another reason you’ll make it in this business. You’re focused.”

  “Thank you.” He did get into the zone when he worked. If anyone had asked him whether he could stay in that zone while a sexy woman sat at a potter’s wheel a few feet away, he would have said no. But he’d proved today that he could. Knowing that she was also absorbed in her project might have had something to do with it.

  But they weren’t working now and their dessert was nearly gone. He hadn’t forgotten that she wore nothing but a silk robe. He wore nothing but the robe she’d loaned him and he’d shoved a condom in the pocket. Having sex out here carried the risk of discovery, and yet she’d said the neighbors were all inside and glued to their TVs.

  She continued to rock gently. “So I think we could work together in the barn some night while you’re here without worrying that we’d be distracted by sex. Instead we’d inspire each other.”

  He agreed, but at the moment he was inspired to lift her onto the porch railing and slide his aching cock into her welcoming body. The railing looked sturdy enough. He also had some softened ice cream left in the bottom of the container and he had a great idea for how to use it.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there, Grady. You okay?”

  “I’m super.” He licked the spoon and stuck it in his other pocket. Then he grasped the carton, left his rocker and crouched in front of hers. “But I have a huge favor to ask.” He caressed the silk covering her knee.

  She laughed. “Why do I get the feeling this has something to do with sex?”

  “Because it does.” He liked the way silk slid easily away from bare skin. He cupped her bare knee and massaged gently. “I have some ice cream left but it’s almost melted. That’s an anticlimactic way to finish it off. Licking it from your warm breasts would be a much better ending for this carton of blueberry cheesecake.”

  “Sounds messy.” But her voice trembled.

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “It’s a maybe.” Her breathing had changed, too.

  “You’ll be amazed at how neat I can be. I don’t want to waste a single drop of my favorite ice cream.”

  “Was this your plan when you suggested eating our dessert on the porch?”

  “Not exactly, but hosing down a porch is an easier cleanup than any place inside the house.”

  “So some of the ice cream was ultimately going to end up on me?”

  “Only if you said yes.”

  She swallowed. “Okay. Yes.”

  “Hot damn.”

  “But we can’t get ice cream on these chair cushions. They’re half Amethyst’s.”

  “I had a different plan anyway. I thought you could sit on the porch railing.”

  Her breath caught. “Facing the light from the living room.”

  “I need to see.” He stroked her thigh.

  “But a neighbor could come out and...”

  “Probably won’t happen.”

  “Probably not.” She shivered.

  “Are you afraid?”

  She shook her head.

  “Turned on?”

  Her voice was low and sultry. “Yes.”

  Pulse hammering, he stood and offered his hand. Once he helped her out of the chair, it was a simple matter to boost her up on the railing at a spot where she could reach one of the spindled posts to steady herself.

  Then he set the carton on the railing and cupped her cheek. As he leaned in for a kiss, he reached for her sash. He’d been tempted to untie it ever since she’d first appeared in the robe, and he’d fantasized about doing it all during their dinner of pizza and beer. But his plan to get that robe open had gone up in flames with her mother’s phone call.

  At last he could have the view he’d longed for. One quick tug and the robe hung loosely from her shoulders. Breaking away from the kiss, he stepped back to view his handiwork. Her breasts peeked from the lapels, and with each ragged breath she took, the lapels edged farther apart. He decided to help that process along and swept them aside.

  That left her completely covered on the street side but gloriously naked on his side. Her bare feet dangled and her thighs were slightly parted to give him a tantalizing glimpse of his ultimate goal.

  If he moved an inch or so, the ambient light from the living room illuminated her smooth skin and luscious curves even more. The mellow glow highlighted the classic beauty of her body and he regretted never taking an art course of any kind. If he had, he’d have her pose so he could sketch her.

  As it was, he didn’t have a lot of confidence in his drawing ability. He used it to map out plans for sculptures but he had no illusions about the quality of those sketches. Galleries had requested them, even offered him crazy amounts of money, but he’d refused. He was self-taught and he knew his efforts were crude. He didn’t want some half-baked representation of his work to circulate.

  But just this once he wished that he had the training to re-create what he was seeing in some form, whether it was in charcoal, paint or clay. She might not agree to that. Or maybe she’d already allowed another artist the privilege. In some ways he knew her so well and in others he knew almost nothing.

  Given time, he could fix that. He’d thought about the geographical barrier between them and he wouldn’t let it be a problem. But first he had to be convinced that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Sexually, he knew she did. The evidence was right in front of him. Her chest heaved with each shallow breath and even in this light he could tell the curls between her thighs were damp. She had the same thirst for sexual adventure that he did.

  Emotionally, though, he wasn’t so sure of her. Something was preventing her from opening up and he couldn’t get a handle on it. It was still too soon to talk about deeper feelings, so he’d continue to capitalize on the one emotion that had worked from the beginning—lust.

  He dipped his fingers in the carton to coat them with melted ice cream. Although the creamy substance wasn’t frigid anymore, she might feel the chill. “Tell me if this is too cold.”

  She gasped as he began finger painting her breasts.

  “Too cold?”

  “No. Startling. I’ve never been painted with ice cream before.” She traced the path he’d taken and then sucked on her finger. “But I like it.”

  Heat surged through him and he considered abandoning the ice cream in favor of snapping on the condom and sliding into her. She was ready. He knew that from the way her body trembled whenever he touched her.

  But if he gave up on the ice cream, he’d lose an element that had bonded them together. She might think loving the same flavor wasn’t important, but he wasn’t so sure. Sometimes a simple thing could be the sentimental link that made all the difference.

  So he coated his fingers again and this time he did a more thorough job of covering her breasts. Licking her clean
would take a while but he’d give it his best effort. Her nipples required extra attention because they seemed to collect more stickiness.

  Finally, he resorted to sucking on each one for several seconds to make sure he’d removed every last bit of blueberry-cheesecake ice cream. By the time he finished, she was clutching the post with one hand and the railing with the other while she whimpered and moaned.

  She was excited, no question. But fooling around with ice cream was different from full-out sex and he didn’t know if she’d let him go that far. So he worked his way back to her mouth and kissed her thoroughly with plenty of tongue to gauge her level of arousal. She responded to the kiss with such enthusiasm that he was encouraged.

  At last he gave up the pleasure of kissing her so he could broach the possibility of having sex in the great outdoors. He’d meant to be subtle about it.

  Instead he blurted out his request in a gravelly voice worthy of a gangster movie. “I want you.” He sucked in air. “Right here on the porch, sitting on the railing. Is that okay with you?”

  “What if I fall in the bushes?”

  “You won’t. You’ll be anchored to my cock at all times.”

  “Mmm.” Keeping her hold on the post, she ran her free hand down his chest. She paused at the tie holding his robe closed, then yanked it free to reveal his extremely erect penis. Smiling, she lifted her gaze to his. “Got a raincoat in your pocket?”

  He pulled out the condom.

  Her eyes darkened and she took a firmer grip on the post. Shifting her position slightly, she opened her thighs. “Then you’d better dock that bad boy before you get arrested for flashing the neighbors.”

  After putting the condom on in record time, he reached inside her robe and grasped her hips. Once he had his bearings, he could have managed the next step blindfolded, but he gave in to temptation. He’d never watched his cock make that journey and tonight he wanted to see his first deep thrust. The sight was way more erotic than he’d imagined. He damn near came.

  “Like the view, cowboy?” Her voice had become a husky drawl.

  “Love it.” He raised his head and registered the flush on her cheeks and the glitter in her eyes. “Best view in the world.”