by Harper Young
“You aren’t like anything I thought you were,” he says suddenly, voice a low rumble.
“You mean I’m not just some city girl looking for a vacation on the ranch?”
He chuckles again softly, not answering, but I know it’s the truth.
“I’m not looking for a vacation,” I respond earnestly, even though he hadn’t said it aloud. “I want to work. I want to feel the sun on my shoulders, and I want my muscles to hurt at night, and I want to ride Crumpet under the sunset, and I want to—”
Cord’s fingers brush my waist, his fingertips digging into my hips as he draws me into him.
Even though it’s happening so fast that my brain can hardly process the action, my arms instinctively coil around his neck as my chest presses against his. His fingers tangle in my hair, and he captures my mouth with his own.
The scent of earth and pine and hay washes over me, flooding my nose as my eyes drift shut.
It’s been so long since my last kiss that I’ve forgotten how warm and soft a man’s mouth can be. Then again, I have a feeling my first kiss in no way compares to this.
Cord’s body is so hard and strong under my arms that I feel like I’m floating.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my lips as he gasps in a short breath and pulls his face from mine, though his arms greedily stay around my frame. “I shouldn’t—”
It’s my turn to cut him off.
I lean onto my tiptoes, drinking in the lingering taste of blackberries on his unforgivably delicious lips.
6
Cord
If I could stop thinking about the way that gentle, sexy sigh escaped Sloane’s lips the second my hands brushed her waist, maybe I could focus on what I’m trying to get done.
Baby trots along beside me as we patrol the fence just past the chicken coops, and I can almost feel the tension floating off of her, like she knows that tonight’s mission is serious.
“Sorry, Baby,” I tell the dog. “I’m a little distracted tonight.”
Girls want dates. It’s a fact of life. But how am I supposed to find the time to take Sloane out? And what would she think about that old, beat-up truck of mine?
I’m just about to ask Baby for some dating advice when a branch snaps on the other side of the pasture.
The sound ripples through the darkness as the dog and I both freeze, our heads turning in unison toward the noise. It could be a squirrel, or any number of nocturnal critters, but the hackles rising on both my neck and the dog’s say different. My skin is tingling in that way it does when you just know someone is watching you . . . Someone very specifically human.
Another branch breaks, and I take off for the woods, Baby bounding at my side. Through the shadows of the trees, I can just barely see the figure running in front of us.
“Hey!” I yell.
Whoever it is doesn’t stop. He weaves between trees, slipping into the darkness.
I pump my arms and legs. Harder. Faster. The dark form comes into view again. I’m gaining. Whoever is sneaking around my ranch is about to be caught.
Suddenly, something snags my foot, and I’m going down, skittering against the earthy floor. The impact knocks the air out of me, and my shoulder smacks into a rock.
“Dammit!” I hiss through gritted teeth as Baby skids to a stop not far away. In a second, she’s faithfully back at my side.
I haul myself to standing and pet her head with my scratched-up palm. The man is gone, swallowed up by the night.
A groan fills my throat, along with an extensive line of expletives.
It was one of them, I’m sure of it—one of the people stealing the cattle.
I’m still grumbling in anger as I walk further into the thicket. By the time I emerge again, we haven’t come across anyone in the darkness. Though I want to keep searching, it’s nearing at least midnight now, and Baby is exhausted. Her cheerful trot slows to a sloth walk, her breath coming in short pants.
“Let’s get some dinner,” I sigh, kneeling for a moment to ruffle her ears and tell her what a good guard dog she is.
Then, straightening, we head to the house.
I know there won’t be any supper left for me. Ranch hands are a voracious bunch who’ve never heard of leftovers. I’ll be lucky if I find a piece of pie. Not that I’m looking for food right now. Baby might be hungry, but any appetite I might have had has been shaken right out of me.
“You’re finally back!”
Sloane whips around the corner of the guest room, her brown eyes wide and her blond hair wet from a shower. It clings to her face. The oversized shirt she’s using as a nightgown falls over her in all the right places. My eyes, with a mind of their own, sweep over her flawless figure. The hem of the shirt hangs mid-thigh, exposing her long, supple legs.
Flannel has never looked so sexy.
Concern wrinkling her brow, she doesn’t seem to notice my wandering eyes. “I saved you some food. I was worried—”
“I’m not hungry,” I murmur with a shake of my head.
From in the kitchen, I can hear Baby noisily drinking from her great tin bowl. I know Miranda will have left her something special. We’re all well-fed here, including the animals.
“Okay.” Sloane frowns, long, pale fingers fiddling with her shirt as though she just realized how exposed it leaves her. The top few buttons are open, revealing her soft cleavage.
Remembering my manners, I strain to keep my eyes on her face. Even without a single trace of makeup, she’s gorgeous.
“Are you all right?” she finally asks. “You look pale.”
“I saw someone,” I murmur quietly. “I’m sure it’s someone who’s been taking the cattle.”
“Oh my god.” Her eyes go wide again as she steps closer, gaze sweeping over me intently.
Looking for injuries, I realize. It’s odd. Other than Miranda, I’ve never had anyone so blatantly concerned about me. Not in years, that is. Not since my folks. It makes me feel so strange, so cared for. Usually I’m the one taking care of others.
“I’m fine.” I clear my throat. “I’m going to get some rest.”
“Let me walk with you,” Sloane says. “Tell me about what you saw.”
“It’s dark . . .” I begin, but one pleading look of her eyes, and I have to agree. “All right.”
She rushes back into her room and is back in a minute wearing a pair of long shorts and tennis shoes.
“You’re going to get them, you know,” Sloane murmurs as we approach my cabin near the tree line.
The crickets are out tonight, their droning song piercing the stillness. I can’t keep my eyes on the girl next to me; they keep searching the distance for moving figures.
When we get under my porch light, Sloane steps forward, sensing my distraction. She takes my cheeks between her two delicate, soft hands so that I’m forced to gaze only into her eyes.
I’d never noticed before, how they’re speckled with golden flakes. The sight is more gorgeous than any sunrise or sunset I’ve seen in my life. I suck in a breath, lost in her beauty.
“You’re going to work this out. I know it. I haven’t been here long, but I know you’re the best damn cowboy around.” She grins, eyes twinkling.
Her confidence is so striking, and perhaps so misplaced, that I almost laugh, but choose instead to wrap my arms round her hips and draw her into my embrace.
She sinks easily into me, the hands at my cheeks sliding around my neck as she leans up for a kiss.
Just a few mere sentences, and it’s like Sloane has already lifted the heavy weight of worry off my shoulders.
Lord, she sure is something else.
I tip her chin back, leaning down so that I can press my mouth to hers. Her lips part instantly, the tip of her sweet tongue curling against mine as a slow rumble rolls up my throat.
She shivers at the sound, arms tightening, her face tilting deeper into the kiss.
“Let’s go inside,” I whisper gruffly, watching as she bites her lip and n
ods.
I reach out and flick the cabin’s inside light on as we tumble into the small space. Our mouths are everywhere. She moans against my lips, and I grasp her tighter to me, breathing in the scent of her damp hair.
My tongue aches to taste every inch of her, to map a trail from her mouth to her thighs.
With one move, I lift Sloane and set her on the edge of my bed.
“Wait!” she gasps abruptly.
The mattress creaks as I kneel at the edge of it, gazing at her. Her chest rises and falls quickly, eyes burning with desire, but I stop when she says to.
“I’ve never . . . I’ve never been with a man,” she finally says, grimacing as though she’s worried that would ever change the way I look at her, as though her purity is something to be ashamed of.
“Oh.” I run a hand through my hair, suddenly embarrassed myself. What was I thinking, pulling her in here and just tossing her on my bed like a caveman would? Just because I can’t handle a hard dick . . . Just because I’m stressed with the missing cattle . . .
“But I want to,” she quietly says, peering at me from under her lashes.
I study her face. “It’s not right, Sloane. We should wait. I want to take you out, show you a nice time.”
“Then do that,” she says. “Later.”
Another thick, intoxicating moment passes. I swallow hard, competing emotions rising in me.
“Why do you live down here?” she asks.
The change of subject takes me by surprise. “I, uh . . .” I clear my throat. “I grew up in that house, you know? The main one.”
“With your parents,” she whispers.
“With my . . . mom . . . and grandfather.”
The words bring up an ache I didn’t expect, but it’s also a good kind of throbbing. I don’t talk about my family much. Maybe I should.
“I guess it’s easier being down here, huh?”
My throat burns, and I nod again. I don’t know how much Miranda has told Sloane, but surely she must have picked up some info.
“I never knew my dad,” I admit. “He took off before I was born. And Mom died when I was ten, in a car accident. Grandpa another ten years later.”
A look of agony passes over Sloane’s face, and you’d think she were the one who’s lost her family.
“I’m so sorry, Cord,” she whispers.
“It was a while ago.”
A silent moment enters the room, but there’s something tender growing in it. Sloane doesn’t press for more, just reaches over and takes my hand in hers. I give it a gentle squeeze and, somehow, I know she understands.
“I want this, Cord,” she says, gaze locked on mine. “If it’s . . . what you want too.”
Jesus, if she only knew what kind of an understatement that is.
“I’ll be gentle,” I promise her. “You just tell me if you don’t like it, if it hurts or anything.”
Sloane nods, her gaze dancing across my face. I can see the excitement in her, though. She relaxes backward onto the mattress, wearing a smile brimming with raw lust. It draws me up toward her like a moth to a burning flame.
The heat of her body welcomes me as I glide against her.
My arms slip around her, feeling the supple curves of her body. I cup her ass as she gives a light moan, back arching so her chest presses to my own. I can feel the hurried drum of her heart against her ribs.
I won’t make her wait. I can’t.
Taking her mouth with mine, I kiss her gently as I undo and slip off her shorts. Her shoes have already been kicked off, left forgotten somewhere on my floor.
Slipping my hands under the thin flannel shirt, I take hold of the hem and pull it up and over her head, letting it fall on the floor beside my bed.
Her arms move instinctively to cover herself, but I grab hold of her wrists and pin them to her sides.
“I want to look,” I whisper, and even I can’t deny the rough edge of desire in my voice.
It’s been so long, so very long, and yet I’ve never once felt anything like this. It’s like my whole body is on fire, like my soul is ignited with not just desire . . . but something beyond pure lust, something I can’t put my finger on.
I can feel Sloane trembling as my gaze sweeps over the perfect mounds of her breasts and the dip of her stomach. First, I’ll touch her everywhere with my eyes, and then I’ll retrace the path by touching her everywhere with my lips and hands.
“So damn beautiful,” I whisper before I lean down and greedily capture another kiss.
Her fingers weave roughly into my hair as my mouth moves down her jaw, sucking and nibbling at her neck until she’s quivering.
Warmth rises from between the legs she has tangled around my hips; my dick is so hard that it throbs as I kick my jeans off and hurl them to the wooden floor.
Continuing to suck on her neck, I slowly send my hand between her thighs, testing the water to make sure she’s still comfortable. When her legs fall open, I take it as a good sign and slip off her panties. A rush of warmth and wetness meets my fingers, and I gently stroke at the tight nub there.
Sloane gasps against the top of my head as I speed the strokes up. Her back arches, and her nails dig into my shoulders.
“Cord,” she gasps.
Desire so intense it burns rips through me. I’ve never heard anything sweeter than my name on her lips. Lifting my face, I tangle my tongue with hers, then take my mouth back down south. Her nipples wait for me, perfect pink buttons begging for my attention.
As I suck, she writhes underneath me, pushing her mound against my palm. Warmth fills my chest. I could touch her all night long, never once getting inside of her, and I would die a happy man.
I lift my head from where my lips suckle her breasts and give her another kiss before standing and shucking my boxers. Finally, we’re both naked.
Easing myself down onto the bed, I rest my weight against Sloane, meeting her eyes as her soaking pussy greets the swollen head of my cock.
“Ready?” I breathe hoarsely, gazing into her lust-filled eyes as she gives a hasty nod, her hands clenching into my back with a death grip.
With a groan of ecstasy, I thrust my length into her, her body stretching and straining to allow me access. She’s so fucking hot and tight that I feel like I’m being swallowed by nothing less than raw rapture.
I capture her mouth again, kissing away the two small tears that leak from the corners of her eyes.
“Are you all right?” I whisper into her ear.
“Yes,” she gasps. “Just . . . don’t stop.”
A little moan of pleasure leaves her, and I don’t need any more encouragement.
Again and again I thrust into her, my arm hooking under her knee so that I can glide harder and deeper and faster within her. Sloane’s pants and intense cries rise higher, become shriller, grow louder. It’s music, the sound of her pleasure making my own increase.
She cries out my name, back arching as her fingers dig into the bed sheets. Her inner muscles clamp down on my cock, sucking me farther in.
“Cord,” she gasps.
I kiss her harder, drinking in each little moan and heavy exhale. Her pussy pulls me deeper as she comes, hips bucking and tongue frantically lapping against mine.
It’s more than I can handle. I feel the explosion coming and pull out, releasing onto the sheets.
Sloane trembles against me, her slick body pressed to mine. The need to touch her hasn’t lessened at all. Hooking her chin with my thumb, I turn her face to mine and kiss her deeply.
Minutes pass, and then more time. I can’t count how much. We cling together, a damp and dazed heap. The aftershocks of pleasure rock through me, and there’s only one thought in my head, but it’s a powerful one, playing on repeat.
I’m never letting you go.
7
Sloane
Cord’s eyes meet mine as we both reach at the same time for another buttery breakfast biscuit.
His fingers brush ever so subtly across the
back of my hand as he lets me take first pick, a faint smile twitching on his mouth—a mouth that showed me pleasure beyond belief last night.
I bite back a sudden moan, sinking down into my seat as raw desire throbs inside of me, a flash of Cord hovering over me, making my blood boil.
Last night was magical, cheesy as that word is. Actually, it was more than that. I’ve never felt as happy as I do right now. It’s like everything is finally coming together for me. When I stepped off that train the other day, I never would have guessed just how much or how quickly my life was about to change.
“You all be safe out there today, boys.” Aunt Miranda yawns sleepily as the men get up and start leaving the house. Over his shoulder, Cord shoots me one last lingering gaze.
As much as I wanted to spend last night in his cabin, I snuck back into the main house around midnight. Thinking about Uncle Daniel knocking on my bedroom door and not finding me there sent shudders through me . . . Since Cord wasn’t my boyfriend, it would be really awkward for anyone to find me in his cabin late at night or early in the morning.
“Sloane, can I steal you for a bit?” a cheery-faced Miranda lightly asks.
On the other side of the window, Cord and a hand—Dane—pass by. I wish I could follow behind Cord’s broad shoulders and stand in their shadow all day long.
Instead, however, I turn back to Miranda and nod before collecting as many plates as I can off the table. I hurry into the kitchen and set them all in the sink.
“I’ll just wash these and then I’m going to go out—”
“Oh, I was hoping you would help me make some cookies!” Miranda frowns, her jubilant mouth twisting downward. “They’re chocolate chip. It’s the bake sale at the community center tomorrow.”
“Of course I’ll help,” I reply, suppressing a sigh.
The last thing I want to do is bake. And hasn’t Miranda had enough of me trying to blow up her kitchen? I clearly have no culinary talent whatsoever, which is becoming clearer every time I dare step foot in here.