"You'd rather be admired for your body than passionate about your singing?"
He rolled her onto her back with a growl, pinning her hands over her head. "For you, I'm both, hot and passionate. Granted, I'm not passionate about singing, but there's some white hot passion racing through my veins right now for you."
She shivered at the sensual undertone in his voice, and suddenly, she forgot about his stage career. All that mattered was the man in her bed. She ran her hands over his chest, kind of shocked that she was actually fondling such perfection. The man was a sex god, there was no doubt about that. She was...what? Herself. And yet...here they were. She grinned, running her hands over his chest, kind of marveling at the fact that his muscles were actually as cut and toned as the movie stars that were probably digitally altered. He was real. Right here. With her. "Who knew you were so sexy? You should go naked more often."
"Naked? You want naked?" One eyebrow shot up, and the heat between them seemed to combust.
She swallowed. "I didn't mean—"
"Damn. I was liking the naked thing." He bent his head and kissed her, hard, deep, demanding, relentless. An assault that didn't let up until she was gasping for breath, and writhing under him, desperate for more.
He grabbed her shirt and pulled it up toward her shoulders. Without thinking, she raised her arms over her head, and he whipped it off easily, tossing it aside. She had no time to be nervous before he was kissing across her chest, over the swell of her breasts, stoking the desire building inside her. His fingers slipped between her breasts, and with one flick, he undid her bra, taking advantage of the front clasp.
The cold air hit her breasts as the confining fabric fell away, but instantly, he was there, showering kisses along the soft flesh. She closed her eyes, arching as his lips closed on her nipple, sending electricity arcing through her. She gasped, her fingers sliding through his hair, as if she could hold him there forever—
But he didn't stop. He ran his hand over her hip, sliding it beneath the waistband of her baggy jeans. Her heart began to race as he moved his hand lower, beneath her underwear, and then even lower. She couldn't contain the tiny yelp of pleasure as his fingers sank into her folds, his touch a seductive, sensual pleasure that wound all the way around her soul.
"I want to kiss you there," he whispered, his breath warm against the side of her neck.
She nodded. "Okay."
He laughed softly. "'Okay?' It's like I asked you for a refill on my coffee." He bit her earlobe. "How about, 'God, Travis, I want you to rip my clothes off and ravage me in every way you've been imagining for the last twenty-four hours, and all the ways you haven't even thought of yet.' Give a guy a little encouragement."
She laughed then, the last of her tension easing from her body. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "Yeah, that," she said.
"'Yeah, that?' Really? You can't do better?"
"You're the poet. You make it sound amazing. I'm just a failed engineer turned chef." Nervousness rippled through her, but she reached down to the waistband of his jeans, her fingers fumbling with the button on his fly. "Please chase away all the darkness that haunts us both, Travis. Give us something new, something beautiful, something amazing to hold onto for the rest of our lives."
His eyes darkened. "Now that's what I'm talking about." He rolled to his side, unfastened his jeans, and ditched them, leaving his boxer briefs on, much to her chagrin and relief. Then he was back on top of her, kissing his way down her belly while he unzipped her jeans. She propped herself up on her elbows, needing to watch him, to ground herself in him as he began to tug her jeans down.
As if sensing her perusal, he looked up. His face softened at whatever expression he saw on her face, and he crawled back up her body, to kiss her, a gentle, claiming, possessive kiss that went straight past all her walls and seemed to cradle her heart.
He pulled back, searching her face. "Are you okay? We can stop."
She shook her head. "I need this. I need you."
He smiled, a tender, heart-wrenching smile that made her want to cry. "I never thought I would need a woman, or intimacy, but I do, too." He kissed her again, tender, nurturing, claiming...which then turned hot, sensual, and demanding.
She was gasping for air by the time he broke the kiss and slid her pants down. Her heart seemed to thunder through her as he tossed her jeans aside, leaving her only with her frayed cotton underwear that had once been fuchsia, but now were a faded, dull rose.
"Love these." He pressed a kiss to the fabric, just over her sensitive bud.
She whimpered at the rush of sensation from his kiss, sinking back into the pillows. "How can you love them? They're old and completely unsexy."
"I love them, because they're you." He trailed kisses along the inside of her thigh, nudging aside her underwear as his kisses got closer and closer to the part of her body that she hadn't shared with anyone in a very, very long time. "You didn't get dressed tonight hoping to seduce anyone, and that's sexy as all hell."
She heard the truth in his voice, and her heart softened at the words he didn't say. "The women all want sex from you, don't they?" In some ways, he was just like her teenage self: seen only for the body, and not for the person inside.
He looked up, and she saw stark vulnerability in his eyes, a pain that went so much deeper than anything he'd shared with her. She realized there was more he was hiding, something else, something that had torn him apart all the way to his soul. "Travis, what is it? What else happened to you?"
He shook his head. "This moment is about us. No one else gets to taint it." He gave her a wicked glare that made her belly tighten, then he grabbed her underwear and pulled it off in a single, ridiculously smooth move.
Before she had a chance to feel exposed and embarrassed, he bent his head and kissed her, his tongue sweeping across her folds, in the most tantalizing seduction she'd ever imagined, let alone experienced. She could do nothing but hang on, gasping as he toyed with her, dragging her to the edge, and holding her there, ruthlessly keeping her from going over the precipice, until she was panting, and glistening with sweat.
He shifted, and she opened her eyes just as he tossed his boxer briefs on the floor with the rest of their clothes. She had no time to get scared, before he moved over her, his knees urging her legs apart. She gasped as she felt the tip of his erection pressing against her entrance. He kissed her, a desperate, claiming kiss that seemed to wrench her heart from its safe little hideout and drag it out into the light.
He moved restlessly, then suddenly froze, his entire body going rigid. "Fuck. I don't have any condoms." He pulled back, his face shocked. "I can't believe I almost made love to you without birth control."
The look of horror on his face took away all the last vestiges of her fear. This wasn't a man who'd thoughtlessly take risks of getting her pregnant. He'd even managed to stop himself right on the brink, rather than go through with it.
He swore again. "Is there any place open this late I can get some?"
"What, you don't think I have some lying around?" She couldn't help but tease him, feeling exhilarated by the fact he had assumed she didn't have any. He simply didn't see her as a woman who slept around, unlike all the people in the town she'd tried to prove herself to.
He rolled his eyes and kissed the tip of her nose. "I don't even need to ask. I do, however, need to find a store."
He started to roll off her, but she stopped him. "I used to be debilitated by cramps, so I'm on birth control." She bit her lip, suddenly afraid that he'd think she was lying about why she was on birth control, but he just grinned, and settled himself back on top of her.
"Well, damn, woman, I never thought I'd be happy about menstrual cramps, but you just made my day." He kissed her again, not hesitating, instead, stoking the fires back up with his kisses. "I've been tested for everything," he said between kisses. "I'm completely clean. I promise you that. I'd never risk you."
Her heart tighten
ed at his words, at his genuine concern. How was there a man this good in the world? How was it possible? "I was tested at the time Bridgette was born, but not since—"
He laughed. "Sweetheart, I'm not worried about you." He kissed her again, sweeping her away from logic and discussion, into a miasma of emotion, desire, and need.
She shifted beneath him, a restless need coiling inside her. "Make love to me, Travis," she whispered.
He broke the kiss, searching her face. "Never forget how special you are," he said, and then he sank inside her.
She gasped, arching back as she felt him fill her. It was incredible, intimate, and perfect. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't ashamed. She was just lost in the beauty of it, in how amazing it felt, how safe she was with him.
He whispered her name as he withdrew and then drove again, reassuring her with tender murmurs, whispers of sweetness that made her want to cry. Then he caught her mouth in a searing kiss that stripped her of all thought, dragging her mercilessly into a vortex of need and desire. She clung to him, kissing him back just as fiercely, holding onto him desperately as the tension coiled between them. White hot flashes exploded through her, and her entire body convulsed as the orgasm ripped through her. She gripped his shoulders, gasping. She bucked against him, as he drove deep, shouting her name again and again and again, until they both finally collapsed, sweaty, exhausted, and together.
Chapter 14
Travis slept.
There, in Lissa's arms, he fell asleep.
He hadn't slept hard since he was a kid, not after his dad had stumbled into his room, drunk and pissed after losing money on a pool hustle. Travis hadn't had time to get out the window, and he still had the scars, both the ones on his skin, and the deeper ones that only his brothers knew existed.
Since then, he'd learned to stay awake, even while dozing off, so he always had time to escape if something came for him. Nothing ever did, except nightmares, but that didn't change the lessons he'd learned and his fear of going fully to sleep.
But when he woke up to Lissa's alarm at half past five, he realized he'd been dead asleep.
Lissa bolted upright at the sound of the alarm, lunging across him to shut it off. He caught her around the waist, laughing when she almost fell off the bed, not taking his presence into account before she'd moved.
He pulled her back on top of him, and she grinned at him, her eyes bright and alive. "Hi."
She was happy. He could see it in her face, and he relaxed. He grinned, and pulled her down for a kiss. "I was afraid you'd be regretting it this morning."
She propped her chin up on her hands, using his chest as a pillow, still grinning. "Last night was amazing. You made me feel special and sexy, not like a tramp that should be ashamed."
His good mood vanished at her words. "I don't like it when you say shit like that about yourself."
She shrugged, still grinning. "It's how my mind works. That's my past. It's always going to be a part of me. My point was that you made me think different last night, about myself, and about men...or you in particular."
"It better be just me." He frowned, tangling his fingers in her hair.
Her smile faded. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He didn't like the idea of her being with anyone else. Ever. Yeah, he'd made love to her last night knowing that he had to leave in a few days, knowing that it was just temporary. He'd understood that he was healing her for someone else, but after last night, he didn't want there to be a someone else. He wanted her for himself. For the first time, he began to understand why his brothers had fallen for their wives, why they'd cared enough to stick around. But he wasn't like that. He couldn't do it. "I can't stay. I can't make this forever."
Her eyebrows went up. "I know that. I don't want forever. I can't do it either—"
"No, you don't understand." His fingers wound tighter in her hair as tension mounted in his body. He didn't want her to ever regret giving herself to him. He didn't want her to ever think she wasn't worthy of everything he had to give her, even if it wasn't much. "My mom wasn't the only shitty mother. My brothers and I have eight different mothers. Nine boys. Eight women. Some of them married my dad, and they were as much of a nightmare as he was. It was fucking hell growing up there, and the only reason we survived is because we protected each other against my dad and the women. We learned that women bring only hell with them. My brothers and I made a pact that we would never let a woman come between us."
Sadness flickered across her face. "I'm so sorry, Travis. That's a terrible lesson to learn."
He shook his head. He didn't want to talk about his childhood. He'd already wasted too much energy on it in his life. It wasn't worth his time. "Three of my brothers have found women. Great for them, right?"
She frowned. "It's not great for them?"
"No, it is." He swore, tension coiling even tighter in his body. "I have been very careful not to get involved with any woman. Not to trust them." He took a deep breath. He wasn't sure why he was telling her this. Maybe because he wanted to make sure there was no way she could blame herself for his inability to commit. It wasn't her, it was him, but he wanted to be damn certain she knew he wasn't feeding her a line. "Last year, though, I was in rough shape. I was losing my shit, and I had decided to quit the band. I was done. I told my band. They were shocked, my lead guitarist in particular. Mariel said she wouldn't let me give up on my dream. She hounded me, until I finally started to listen. I thought she cared. I thought she was doing it for me, and that felt good. No one had ever given a shit about me, like really given a shit, except my brothers, and that was more to make sure I didn't get my head bashed in by our dad. The touchy-feely stuff didn't happen much between us."
He remembered how he'd felt after those late night sessions with Mariel, where she'd sat in his tour bus and talked endlessly, trying everything possible to change his mind, refusing to let him give up on what had once been a dream.
He'd been such a fool.
"You were wrong, though? She wasn't doing it for you?" Lissa was absently tracing her thumb over the underside of his wrist, so casually, he was pretty sure she wasn't even aware she was doing it, which made it better. It was natural, not contrived.
He was sick of contrived. "I wanted to be the guy Mariel was trying to make me into. It felt good to have someone believe in me. Somehow, those late nights turned into something more, and then we were dating. I hadn't dated anyone since I left here when I was nineteen. I still wasn't sure about her, but I was so fucking desperate that I didn't fight what she offered. I knew I was crashing, and I had to try something. She'd been with my band for three years. I thought I knew her. I thought it was safe."
Lissa's brows knit, and she went still, watching him. "What happened?"
"She got pregnant." He looked past Lissa, to a spot on the wall, grinding his jaw at the memory of it. "I was psyched when she told me she was pregnant. I was actually psyched. I should've been scared shitless about being a dad, but I thought it was my chance to break the cycle. I wanted that kid." He looked at Lissa. "I wanted that kid more than I'd wanted anything in my entire life, including getting out of Rogue Valley. I went to doctor appointments with her. I picked names I liked. We talked about hiring a nanny to travel with us. I even..." Fuck. "I went against every value I have, and I asked her to marry me, because I wanted that kid to grow up with a secure family. She said she wanted to have the baby first, so that neither of us ever felt like we'd gotten married because we had to. I was relieved, even though I did want to be married for the kid. I mean, marriage sucks, from what I've seen in my life."
Lissa encircled his wrists with her fingers, a simple gesture that seemed to ground him. She was watching him steadily, her face full of empathy. He knew she understood betrayal. She'd lived enough of it. "What happened? Did she lose the baby?"
"No. I did the math a second time." At first, he hadn't even done the math. It hadn't even occurred to him to doubt her story. He'd had faith. Blind, stupid faith.
> She frowned. "The math?"
"Yeah. When she was six months pregnant, I realized that six months before that, I'd gone to Rogue Valley for a few nights when Chase and Mira first arrived. I figured out the days." He took a deep breath. "The baby wasn't mine." God, he'd never forget the shock when he realized that. How many times had he gone over the calendar that night, thinking that he had to be wrong? Ten? Twenty? Thirty?
Lissa stopped rubbing her thumb over his wrist, her face tense. "You just assumed she was sleeping with someone else, just because you were apart for a few days? You based it on that? Things happen with timing. Just because—"
Travis swore at the betrayal on Lissa's face, understanding her instinct to take offense, after the way she'd been judged. "No, babe, it wasn't like that. I was sure I was wrong. I tried every possible way to manipulate the calendar, but there was no way. I didn't think there was any chance she'd lied to me. I'd known her for three years. Yeah, things had kind of cooled off between us, but she said it was because of the pregnancy. Said she didn't feel like being intimate." He shrugged. "I'll never forget sitting there with my phone in my hand, staring at the calendar. I must have sat there for five hours. I just couldn't believe it."
Lissa's face softened, and she lightly ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm so sorry, Travis. I know what it's like to be betrayed, and it's horrible."
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of her fingers in his hair. Her touch felt so good, making him feel like he was human, keeping him from shutting down completely. "I confronted her. It was ugly. She accused me of not trusting her. I—" He swore, remembering that night. Her tears. Her devastation. The show she'd put on. "She ripped my heart out that night. I felt like a complete ass for not trusting her. She said the doctor must have put the wrong conception date on the file. It didn't make sense, but she was so devastated by my lack of faith in her..." Fuck. What a night that had been. "I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what was right. I just...I didn't know."
A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4) Page 11