by Angel Smits
When she slid the shirt off his shoulders, he didn’t resist, instead he helped her remove it. His skin was hot beneath her touch.
Touching him turned her on even more, Marcus could tell. Her eyes sparked with desire as she looked at his bare chest, and when she touched him, her breath quickened, brushing warm against his skin.
Slowly, she nudged him to the couch, letting his shirt drop to the floor. “We’re doing this together,” he growled and, wrapping his hand behind her neck, he pulled her to him, taking her lips in a hard, demanding kiss. Soon, there would be no turning back. Hell, maybe they’d already crossed that line. He didn’t know. He couldn’t think straight anymore.
He’d waited too long to be with her, stopped too many times. He might not be able to do things all the way, but damned if he wasn’t going to make it good for her. She tasted of dinner and joy and everything else Addie always tasted like. He couldn’t get enough.
Rougher than he intended, he moved his trembling hands up to the thin straps of her shirt. He slid it off her shoulder and down her arm, dragging the fabric away from her breast. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He groaned and cupped her in his hand. She filled his palm completely, the hard point of her nipple insistent against his fingertip. “Do you like that?”
She nodded vigorously. “Marcus,” she whispered. “I need you.”
“I’m here, honey.” He picked her up and set her on the couch, stretching out and guiding her along the length of his whole body. He quickly got rid of her shirt. The dancing candlelight kissed her skin, and envious, he watched it touch her. Slowly, reverently, he eased her higher, closer until her breast was right at his lips. He suckled her, gently at first, then harder, deeper, until her cries of pleasure filled his ears.
He wanted her—his body ached for her. He’d have to find some relief tonight, but for now, this was as close to heaven as he’d been in a hell of a long time.
Panting, Addie finally slid back, bringing her face down to his. “My turn.” Her husky voice made him groan. Was she—?
She slid along the length of him until her hand found the button of his slacks. The zipper’s growl seemed loud in the silent room. “Mmm.” She seemed to need to fill the silence as much as he did. She slipped her hand inside and grasped him.
Her small, soft hand was hot on his burning skin. Slowly at first, then harder, faster. “Addie.” He threw his head back and closed his eyes.
Addie moved closer, wanting to feel him so desperately she couldn’t stand it any longer. She wasn’t willing to risk unprotected sex, but this...this was wonderful.
“Come in me, Marcus,” she whispered, hearing his painful groan shatter the air as she lowered her head and took him in her mouth.
His big strong hands burrowed in her hair, and she thought, at first, he would stop her. He didn’t, and the way he held her there, the way he fingered through her hair as if mesmerized by the feel of her, nearly sent her over the edge. She’d never felt this way with another person. She’d never wanted anyone as badly as she did him.
His hips bucked against her, and her longing ratcheted up. Deeper, harder until finally, he reached the edge. She savored his release, knowing she’d given him that.
“Oh, baby.” Marcus grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, holding her, hugging her tight.
She clung to him, struggling to stay calm, but the feel of his chest, hard against her bare breasts, was too much. She tried to move away, to control her own rushing libido. This wasn’t about her—
“We’re not finished,” he whispered, pulling her back and kissing her. His hand slid over her back then came around to cup her breast again. She gasped. She didn’t expect—
Marcus grasped her skirt, slowly gathering it, so that he could reach his hand beneath. He palmed her backside, squeezing until she sighed into his mouth.
The thin lace panties were no match for his questing hand, and she gasped when one big finger slid enticingly through the damp curls. Her cry of pleasure bounced off the walls. “Marcus, please.”
“Please, what?” he whispered, his entire focus aimed at pleasing her, at watching her come in his arms. “This?” He slid his finger over her again, then gently slid that same finger inside.
“I’m going to...” she cried.
“Come for me. Let me watch you.” He moved his finger deeper, faster, matching the rhythm her hips made. He felt her tighten, and the only regret he had was that he wasn’t truly, deeply buried inside her. He would be. Soon. Just not tonight. His body burned in anticipation.
“Marcus!” Her voice tore from her throat as she shivered around him, falling over the edge of her release. He kissed her again, tasting the last of her cries. He didn’t want to stop touching her, didn’t want to end any of this. He wanted to do it again and again until the morning came.
But that wasn’t to be. Not this time anyway. Soon. Very soon. For a long time, he simply held her in his arms as they lay there on her couch.
Slowly, Addie came back to earth. Sated and tired, she struggled to sit up. At first, he held her tight, his body perfectly aligned with hers. He gently rubbed her back, his hands never straying any farther.
Relaxed, she nearly drifted off to sleep. “Marcus?”
“Hmm?”
She laughed. “Your hour’s up,” she whispered, knowing he had to leave and not wanting him to.
“Hmm.”
“Such witty conversation.” She pretended to complain. This time, his groan was not one of pleasure. Suddenly, he rolled her over, somehow managing not to push them off the narrow couch. His hard body pushed her deeper into the cushions, and in this position, she felt his hard arousal press at the juncture of her thighs. She moaned. “It didn’t work.”
“What?” He gazed at her, his hands on each side of her face, gently tracing the rise of her cheeks with his thumbs.
“I want you even more now,” she admitted. “It didn’t take the edge off.”
His warm laughter rumbled through her. “Nice idea, though.” He kissed her then, slowly, gently, holding back. “Very, nice idea.”
Marcus reluctantly let her go, then reached for his shirt as he handed hers to her. She sat up and pulled it on, suddenly conscious of her messy hair and the rumpled state of her clothing.
He must have noticed her failed attempts to right her clothing and smooth her hair. He stilled her hands with his. “You look...beautiful,” he reassured her. “Like you’ve just almost been made love to.”
“The operative word there being almost.” She leaned against him and held on tight. “Almost—” she groaned and stepped away “—doesn’t count except in—”
“Horseshoes and hand grenades,” he finished with her. Then just before he left her, he whispered, “No more almosts. Promise.”
Then he was gone, out the front door and into the night. She sank onto the couch and buried her face in her hands.
She hadn’t taken the edge off anything. If anything, she’d added fuel to the fire.
* * *
THE NEXT WEEKEND, Addie came downstairs at Wyatt’s ranch bright and early the morning of the barbecue, showered, dressed and anxious to help with any last-minute preparations. She should have known Tara and the retiring ranch cook, Juanita, would have everything handled.
“This is your party. You’re not supposed to work it.” Addie gave Juanita a warm kiss on the cheek. “But with you two cooking, it’s going to be the best barbecue ever.”
They both laughed and continued with their work as Addie fixed herself a cup of the tea Juanita kept in the cupboard just for her and toast. She wasn’t eating much, leaving room for all the amazing food ahead.
Wyatt came in then, pulling work gloves off his hands before fixing himself a cup of coffee. “Fire pit’s ready and Patrick and the boys are getting the beef set up.”
“Buckets are in the walk-i
n.” Juanita waved toward the freezer that held enough food for the entire ranch—and then some. “We’ll send ’em down as soon as you’re ready.”
Addie tried not to think about what lay ahead other than the food. Marcus and Ryan were coming out, and she’d arranged for them to stay tonight. She was hoping, but not planning, on dancing with Marcus under the stars.
And maybe more than dancing. Before anyone saw the heat sweep up her face at memories of last week’s dinner, she hid behind her cup.
“Oh, what are you thinking about, sister dear?” Tara stood across the table from Addie grinning like she’d just read her diary.
“Nothing I’m sharing with you.” She hastily bit into her toast and focused on chewing.
“Probably a safe idea.” Tara laughed, returning to chopping veggies at lightning speed.
“Just tell me what I need to do to help,” Addie said, putting her cup in the dishwasher.
And so, the insanity began. It felt like old times when they’d all come here for a holiday. Granddad was gone, but all the traditions, all the things he’d kept going at the ranch, were alive with Wyatt and his men.
An hour later, she carried the buckets of rub and sauce out to the fire pit. The sun was heading to the top of the sky, and already the heat was intense. The fire pit was far enough from the house that the flames and the smoke wouldn’t be a risk to anything, but close enough that the rich aroma wafted around and made everyone hungry well before it was time to eat. She’d just set down the last of the buckets next to Wyatt when she saw a flash of red in the driveway.
Her breath caught as she recognized Marcus’s Jeep. Ryan jumped out nearly as soon as Marcus pulled to a halt. She made her way up the hill, trying not to look like she was running.
“Hey.” She waved at them. Ryan waved back while Marcus climbed out. He looked relaxed, his hair tousled from the drive, a pair of dark sunglasses hiding his gaze from her. He’d worn a blue button-down shirt and jeans that were faded, but not frayed. She liked the way they fit. His smile made her forget about everything else.
“This is quite a place.” He walked up to her and leaned in to give her a kiss. Warm and short. Well, that answered that question. Guess they weren’t going to keep everything a total secret.
“What’s this place called?” Ryan looked around, his eyes wide with awe.
Addie shrugged. They didn’t have an official name for the ranch. “We’ve always just called it the ranch.” She shrugged. “The brand our cattle wear is the double rockin’ J. Guess that’s as official as it gets.” She was proud of her family’s history, and showing it to Ryan and Marcus only added to her joy. “Come on. Let’s get you settled, and I’ll show you around.”
Both of them had packed backpacks, so it was easy to get everything inside. She led them upstairs. “This was the boys’ room when they visited.” She waved at the four bunks that filled the room. “You’ll have the whole room, so pick whichever bed you’d like.”
“I’ll take the top one,” Ryan offered with a smirk to his dad.
“Good choice. I’m not climbing up there.” Marcus dropped his backpack on the opposite bunk. “And I’m not going to put up with your wiggling around, either.”
Ryan laughed and flung his backpack up on top. “Come on. Let’s go see stuff.” He headed to the door. “Do you have a lot of horses? Cows?”
Addie laughed at his enthusiasm—enjoying it and enjoying having them both here. “It’s technically Wyatt’s place. He’s got tons of cattle, a jillion horses and two pigs.”
That stopped Ryan in his tracks at the top of the stairs. “Two pigs?”
“Yep. They are my nephew Tyler’s pets,” she explained. “Though now there’s a whole family of them, apparently. I haven’t seen them.” She was pretty sure a herd of pigs was not in Wyatt’s business plan.
“This’ll be interesting,” Marcus said, following them downstairs.
Ryan wanted no part of what was indoors, and Addie couldn’t think of any reason not to let him see the whole place. It was huge, and she’d already done her share of helping with the barbecue. Everyone else was in charge now.
She did take them to the fire pit first. Wyatt was the honorary pit boss—the real cook in charge was Juanita.
He was dressed just as Granddad had always dressed to oversee the fires. His summer Stetson, work shirt, jeans and boots that looked straight out of Granddad’s closet. The white apron looked suspiciously like one from Tara’s diner.
As they approached, she heard a metallic jingle and looked down. Wyatt was even wearing Granddad’s spurs. He was pulling out all the stops on this one.
The grills were full of red-hot coals from local wood. Mesquite was Wyatt’s favorite. The aroma wrapped around them. One of the buckets of barbecue sauce, which she’d carried down earlier, sat nearby with a big mop in it.
“What’s the mop for?” Ryan asked as they walked closer.
“Once the meat starts cooking, Wyatt, or one of the men will mop it with sauce. It’s the only way to do it with this much meat. That’ll make it tender and totally messy to eat.”
“Smells awesome.” The boy was enthralled, and she liked his enthusiasm.
Cowboys stood around, leaning against pickup bumpers, or seated on hay bales that had been put there just for that purpose. A cooler of beers sat between the two piles, and everyone had one in hand. Nearly every head turned and watched the strangers who were with her. Addie ignored them. At least for now.
“Care for a beer?” Wyatt offered Marcus by way of introduction.
“No, thanks,” Marcus said casually, and no one said anything more. Addie saw Ryan breathe a sigh of relief the same time she did, though they probably weren’t for the same reason. She was just glad no one made an issue of it.
“Good to see you again, Wyatt.” The two men shook hands.
“Oh, yeah.” Addie blushed. She’d forgotten that Wyatt had been at the hospital when she’d gotten sick. But no one else knew her guests. Probably explained the curious glances going around the circle of cowboys. “You know my brothers Wyatt and DJ.”
DJ stepped from his spot on the other end of the grill. “I’d shake hands, but I’m a bit messy.” His big hands were covered in the spicy rub that Juanita had mixed up days ago. Only hand-rubbed meat went on Wyatt’s grill.
She let Wyatt introduce the rest of the men. She’d given up a long time ago trying to remember all the men who worked here. An older man stepped forward. She knew him and gave Chet a warm hug. “This is Chet. He and his wife, Juanita, are the reason we’re having this whole event.”
“Good to meet you.” Marcus smiled and shook the older man’s hand. “Guess I should thank you for retiring, so I can try true Texas barbecue.”
“Ah, now, you’re welcome.” Chet took a big swallow of his beer. “But if you want to know about true Texas barbecue—”
“Don’t get started,” Wyatt said, lifting the mop from the bucket.
“Whose party is this?” Chet winked at Addie. “Seems I should get to choose the topic of discussion.”
“Not if it’s to argue whose barbecue is better.” Wyatt smeared a mopful of sauce over the briskets on one side of the grill.
“Well, there’s no argument here. My father—”
“Run while you can, Addie.” DJ laughed as he threw another hunk of brisket on the grill.
Marcus looked at her, confused, and she grabbed his arm, laughing. “We’re outta here.” To Marcus she said, “Come on. They’ll be arguing about whose is better for hours now.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Oh, don’t let them hear you. Yes, there’s a difference, but no one agrees which is best.”
Out of earshot, Ryan said, “Doesn’t look like any barbecue I’ve ever seen.”
“You’ve probably had St. Louis or Southern barbecue. That’s more pork
and baby-back ribs. Texas is where beef and brisket are king. Some Texas places don’t even have sauce. It’s about the grill and the rub.” She shrugged.
“So, no pig roast, huh?”
“Shh...” She laughed. “Don’t let Pork Chop or Hamlet hear you. Or my nephew Tyler.”
Ryan rubbed his belly. “When do we eat?”
“Not soon enough. I’ve been smelling it all morning. I’m starving.” She led them to the horse barn. “I’ll show you around, then we’ll go and stuff ourselves.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SUNSET CAME WITH a fireball of orange in the west. Addie was disappointed the day was at an end—but the night ahead was just beginning.
Marcus sat across the picnic table from her. All through dinner, she’d been conscious of him. Twice, he’d caught her staring at him. Twice, he looked back and gave her a wink that made her stomach flip-flop.
She’d caught him watching her, too. When she’d been licking sticky barbecue sauce off her fingers, he’d watched every single movement. The heat in his eyes rivaled the fire pit that still glowed in the distance.
She’d resisted the urge to fan herself—barely.
Dozens of the wooden picnic tables had been set up around a large dance floor. Strings of lights hung over the floor and stretched out above the tables to poles the men had buried into the ground. “More posthole digging,” her soon-to-be brother-in-law, Lane, complained. “Lord, I don’t miss that.”
He’d worked for Wyatt before deciding to become a hotshot firefighter. Addie hoped the fire season stayed slow so Mandy’s wedding next month could go off without a hitch.
A local band was set up in one corner. She’d heard them before, and they were good. She couldn’t remember when she’d last been to a dance, other than DJ and Tammie’s wedding last year, which didn’t count.
Addie was surprised to see Dutch and Elizabeth Ferguson seated at one of the picnic tables. “I need to say hello to someone,” she said to Marcus after they’d tossed their empty plates into the trash.
He nodded and watched her walk through the crowd. She could feel his gaze follow her. She was sure he wondered who they were, and she knew that if things kept going the way they were, she’d need to explain at some point.