“Not yet.” She felt decadent, sensual and incredibly relaxed. But not tired. The wonder of making love to this man might never wear off. He was inventive and yet patient, forceful and yet considerate. She’d never known anyone like him.
“Before I forget.” He continued his lazy rocking motion. “I’d like a ride to your place after the barbecue tomorrow night.”
That made her smile. “You don’t want to hang out here afterward?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I love this.” He paused and cinched himself in tight. “I really love it.” He leaned down and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. “But I’m guessing your bed is larger.”
“A king.”
He nibbled on her lower lip. “We could have a lot of fun in a king-size bed, Philomena.”
“We could.” And the thought of that tightened a coil of excitement deep within her. She imagined him stretched out on her blue-patterned sheets, his cock firm and waiting for her as she straddled him. She didn’t dare try that here. She’d hit her head on the top bunk.
But in her bed, the one no man had ever enjoyed, she could frolic and play with this gorgeous cowboy. “We could make noise,” she murmured. “I don’t have any close neighbors.”
“Good. I want that.” He shifted his angle and increased the pace. “I want to hear you when you come.”
“I want to hear you, too.”
“Oh, you will.” His lazy motion was gone. He bore down, driving into her with swift, sure thrusts. “Because you make me want to make noise. Your hot body drives me crazy, and all I want is to keep pumping into you while I watch your pupils get darker and darker, until you come apart, like now.”
Right on cue, she erupted in a glorious climax. He covered her mouth with his, muffling her cries as he pushed deep. Then it was his turn. She swallowed his heavy groan as her body welcomed the rhythmic pulse of his orgasm.
As he grew still, he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. “You’re incredible.”
“No, you’re incredible.”
He smiled. “You inspire me, Philomena.” He settled gently against her and rested his head on the pillow next to hers. His breath was warm against her ear. “I’ll move in a minute, but I just want to stay here for a little longer. You feel so good.”
“So do you.” Joy. That was the only word to describe the emotion flooding through her as she lay, sweaty and satisfied, beneath him. She didn’t feel squashed, which meant he must be keeping his weight on his arms. He deserved a whole bunch of gold stars.
She was imagining what fun it would be to draw stars on his muscled body with a gold pen when she drifted off to sleep. Sometime later she woke up to discover the light was off and he wasn’t in bed with her anymore. But he was here somewhere. She could hear his steady breathing. She sat up. Moonlight coming through the window allowed her to see fairly well as she glanced around.
As she’d expected, he was asleep on the bottom bunk across the room from her. It seemed wrong to be so far from each other after what they’d shared, but they’d never be able to sleep comfortably in one bunk. He didn’t quite fit lying there by himself, let alone if she were crammed in beside him.
She had no idea what time it was, but she couldn’t stay here until morning. That had been one disadvantage of this plan. She’d have to drive back home to shower and change before showing up ready to work.
A clock wasn’t in evidence, so if she wanted to know the time, she’d have to get her phone. Slipping out of bed, she tried to remember what she’d done with her purse. Then she saw it lying by the door where she’d dropped it when Damon had started kissing her.
Her first step made the floor creak, and she paused. She didn’t want to wake up her sleeping sweetie, but she needed to find out the time. His breathing hadn’t changed, so she took another step, and the floor groaned. Damn! She hadn’t noticed this before, but then, she’d been too busy kissing Damon to pay attention to a noisy floor.
“Going somewhere?” He propped himself on his elbow and gazed at her.
“I woke you. I’m so sorry. The floor—”
“Creaks something fierce. I know.” He ducked down as he climbed out of the lower bunk. “When I’m more awake and coordinated, I can play a tune on it.”
“That’s funny.” But she didn’t care about the floor anymore. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, which allowed her to drink in the sight of a naked Damon walking toward her. Earlier she’d been too distracted by all the kissing and fondling to fully appreciate his masculine beauty.
He’d be an artist’s dream with his broad shoulders, muscular chest and lean hips. His abs gave new meaning to the term washboard, and his powerful thigh muscles flexed with each step. She also couldn’t help noticing the change that had taken place since he first left the bunk. His magnificent cock was now proudly erect. Her pulse quickened.
“I’m glad the floor woke me up.” His gaze swept over her. “You look great in moonlight.”
“You, too.” Her body moistened. The sweet ache of desire teased her with the possibility of one more orgasm. Just one. Then she’d go home.
“Were you going to leave without telling me?”
She caught a tiny note of panic in his voice and realized it would have bothered him if she had. “I thought I should let you sleep. I need to drive home so I can dress for work. But I don’t know what time it is, so I was going to check my phone.”
“It’s two-fifteen.”
“How do you know?”
He held up his phone with the screen facing her.
“Oh.” She hadn’t seen it nestled in his big hand, probably because she’d been focused on something else entirely.
“I set the alarm for three-thirty, figuring that would give you plenty of time to make the round trip plus grab a shower and some breakfast.”
She was beginning to understand exactly how conscientious this man was. And she’d thought he might forget condoms. She’d done him a disservice. “You weren’t going to let me oversleep.”
“I knew you wouldn’t like that.”
“No. No, I wouldn’t. But I woke up early, so I’ve messed with your very considerate plan. Do you...want to go back to sleep?”
He chuckled. “Do I look like I want to go back to sleep?”
“Not exactly.”
“Are you sleepy?”
If she said yes, he’d encourage her to go back to bed and ignore his body’s reaction to her. She knew that about him, now. But as she gazed at the evidence that he was definitely not sleepy, her body began to hum. “Not anymore.”
“Any suggestion as to how we might pass the time until you have to leave? Because if you can’t think of anything, I might have a few ideas.”
She had an idea, all right. She had a sudden urge to be completely in charge of this gorgeous, complicated man. “How about if you go sit in that desk chair over there?”
“Okay.” He started toward it.
“Oh, wait. Where are the condoms?”
He held out his other hand, palm up. A condom packet rested in the middle of it.
“What are you, an amateur magician?”
“Just detail oriented. I set the alarm in case we both kept sleeping, and I put a condom by my pillow in case we didn’t.”
“Then I’ll just take that little item.” She plucked it from his hand. “You seem to have thought of everything.”
“Apparently not.” He walked over to the armless chair. “I never envisioned sitting bare-assed on this faux-leather seat.” He sat down and rolled himself toward her. “What now?”
“I didn’t think about the fact it rolls.” She tore open the condom packet as she approached. “Can you hold it still?”
“I don’t know. How excited am I liable to get?”
“Let’s try this and see.” Leaning over him, she started rolling the condom on.
He sucked in a breath. “You’d think I could take that without wanting to come.”
“You’d think I could do it without shaking.
” She finished the job and cupped his face with both hands. “You’d think I wouldn’t want you again so soon. And so much I can’t see straight.” She gave him an open-mouthed kiss with lots of tongue.
He groaned and grabbed her around the waist. He must have figured out her idea, because he started guiding her hips and scooting the chair between her thighs.
She lifted her mouth from his. “Let me do it.”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes. Let go.”
He slid both hands up her rib cage and cradled her breasts. “Can I hold you here?”
“Gently.”
His voice was thick with desire. “I’m always gentle.”
“Yeah.” She sank back into their hot, wet kiss. He really might be a magician. He certainly had magic hands. The sensuous way he squeezed and massaged her breasts almost made her forget her original idea, especially with the way he sucked on her tongue.
Then he rolled the chair just enough that the tip of his penis brushed her moist cleft and sent a sharp zing of awareness to every nerve in her body. Straddling his hips, she braced her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself just enough to enclose that sensitive tip.
He moaned.
She eased down a little more, and his whole body quivered.
So did hers. She was teasing herself as much as she was teasing him.
And it was delicious, so delicious that she wanted to draw it out. She’d make them both a little crazy before she was finished. She rose up a fraction and slid back to where she’d been before.
He groaned this time, a sound that seemed to come from the depths of that impressive chest. He pulled back from her kiss, and his voice was strained. “More.”
“Soon.” Her heart beat a rapid tattoo as she lifted her hips again and slipped back down, taking him in a little more this time, but not much. Not as far as he would want.
His breathing roughened. “Phil...”
“Let’s test our limits.” She moved slowly back up and just as slowly back down. She was so wet, so ready to come, but she wouldn’t. Not yet.
“My cock feels like a stick of dynamite.”
Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers around the base of it.
He responded with a sharp gasp.
“You’re right.” She squeezed him and let go. “It does.” And suddenly she wanted it, all of it. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Dragging in a shaky breath, she pushed down and took every glorious inch of him.
“Thank you!”
“Shh. People are asleep.” She kissed him again, loving the supple feel of his mouth and the erotic stroke of his tongue. Kissing Damon felt almost as good as having his cock buried deep inside her. Almost.
But she couldn’t kiss him and do what she’d intended, so reluctantly she pulled back. “You need to let go of me and let me do this.”
“I could help.”
“I want to do it.”
“What should I hold on to?”
“The chair. Keep the chair steady.” And with that, she began to move, faster, and faster yet. Her bottom slapped against his thighs, and he groaned through clenched teeth.
But the chair didn’t move. He kept it rock-solid as she rode him for all she was worth until she came in a blaze of glory and he followed right after her. She slumped against him, panting, with her feet resting lightly on the floor.
At least they were on the floor until he reached down and grabbed her behind the knees. “Hang on, Philomena.” And he gave the chair a push, and then another, and pretty soon they were scooting around the room, laughing like kids on a carnival ride as the floor creaked merrily underneath them.
At last he brought the chair to a stop and lowered her feet to the floor. His grin flashed in the moonlit room. “Bet you’ve never done that before.”
“Bet you never have, either.”
“Nope, that’s a first. But hey, if you’re gonna have sex on a rolling chair, it seems a shame not to do some rolling to commemorate the moment, especially if you’re on a floor that talks back. By the way, that’s why I wanted a concrete slab for the new one.”
“I see.” She gazed up at him. “Are you sure we should go to my house tomorrow night? It could be dull after this experience.”
“Technically it’s tonight, since it’s now the Fourth, but yes, we should. This is a small cabin with small beds. I think we’ve squeezed about all the fun out of it that we can. I’m ready for the big time.”
“So it’s officially the Fourth of July.” She would remember this particular one for a long, long time.
“And thanks to you waking up early, we’ve already had fireworks.”
“So we have.” She ran a fingertip over his full lower lip. “Thanks for going along with my teasing.”
He nipped at her finger. “I thought you were going to kill me.”
“But you were a good sport.”
“You know what? It was fantastic. You’ve given me some ideas for next time.”
“Can’t wait.” She imagined how he’d arrange payback and was ready to start immediately.
His expression grew serious. “But before we get to have this kind of fun again, we have to work together on that cabin and keep our hands to ourselves. That’ll be a challenge for me.”
“For me, too.”
“Can we do it?”
“We have to.” She sighed. “And speaking of that, I’d better drive home.” She kissed him once more before slowly standing and moving away from the chair. Her caftan lay in a heap next to her purse, and she walked across the creaky floor to pick it up.
Behind her, the rustle of a tissue box indicated he was taking care of the condom. “I hope your silk outfit is okay.”
“It’ll be fine.” And if it wasn’t, she didn’t care. Sacrificing her caftan for this eventful night with Damon was a no-brainer. It wasn’t torn, so it would keep her from getting arrested on the way home. She located her flip-flops and wiggled her feet into them. “I’m ready.”
“Hang on. I’ll walk you to your truck.”
“That’s—” She was about to say it wasn’t necessary, but she changed her mind. “That’s very nice of you.” Seeing her to her truck would be important to him. Come to think of it, she’d like for him to do that.
They might have an understanding about how this liaison would end, but at heart he was a cowboy, and cowboys had a code of chivalry. She’d grown up around men who had that same code. She’d been the one who’d insisted they should treat her like one of the guys. Left to themselves, they would have put her on a pedestal.
Maybe that was part of the problem with Damon. His instinct was to put women on a pedestal, even if they knew how to operate both a forklift and a compressor. Dealing with someone like her, who was both a competent coworker on the site and a passionate woman in his bed, must be straining his brain.
She had no such problem. For her, he was the perfect combination—a guy she could count on while they worked together and a lover who knew how to please her better than any man she’d run across. She didn’t want to think about that too much, though. If he was perfect, then she’d miss him all the more when he was gone. And he would go. He’d told her so, and so far, he’d been a man of his word.
7
DAMON HAD TROUBLE letting Phil leave, and he recognized that as a danger sign. Because she was so different from any woman he’d known, she made him think of things that he hadn’t allowed himself to think about before.
For example, she intended to get married and have kids. Other women he’d dated had announced the same thing and he’d accepted that reality, no problem. But he found himself thinking about the lucky bastard Phil would end up with and the cute kids she’d have with some guy who wouldn’t be worthy of her.
He already knew her potential husband wouldn’t be good enough. She was special, and he didn’t like the odds of her discovering a perfect match in Sheridan. The pool was too small. She might settle for someone who didn’t quite measure up, and he hated th
at idea.
Those were the kind of nonproductive thoughts running through his head as he kept her standing beside her truck for way too long while they kissed and cuddled and talked about how they’d get through the next few hours until they could be alone. Prolonging goodbyes wasn’t his normal style, and he was well aware of it. If he’d faced the situation logically, he’d have realized that in seventeen or eighteen hours, they’d be rolling around in her king-size bed. That wasn’t very far away.
Oh, yes, it was. The minute her truck pulled out, he began to ache for her. Not good. Cade’s words came back to him. Sounds like bonding...if you’re developing feelings for her, just say so.
Well, of course he had feelings for her. She was a terrific woman. He’d be an idiot not to recognize that and feel happy that she’d decided to spend time with him. That didn’t mean he was ready to change his whole life, a life that suited him right down to the ground.
Because he was too restless to go back to sleep, he walked into the bathhouse, flipped on a light and found the broom and dustpan. First he swept the floor. Then he took his shirt and hat outside to shake off the rest of the dried mud. All the while he replayed the great time he’d had with Phil. Damn, she’d been sexy when she’d come up behind him and put her hands on his bare chest.
He would always remember their wild sex in the bathhouse. He’d never in a million years have expected that such a utilitarian space would be where he’d give Philomena Turner an orgasm for the first time. That particular sink, the second from the right, would forever remind him of her.
Whoa. Was he storing memories of this love affair? He never did that. Soon after moving to California he’d been introduced to the concept of Zen, living in the moment, and he’d applied it immediately to his life—including his sex life. When he was with a lady, he was totally with her. Once they parted ways, he seldom thought of her again.
For whatever reason—because he was back in Wyoming or because Phil was nothing like the women he’d dated in California, he was collecting memories. Another warning sign. If Rosie could read his thoughts, she’d be laughing her head off.
Well, he’d take care of that pronto. He already had a head start on the morning, so he might as well take advantage of it. He’d show up early for breakfast in Rosie’s kitchen so he could explain to her why he would never get serious about any woman, especially Philomena Turner.
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