Cowboy Unwrapped

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “Okay, when we were juniors, planning for the junior-senior prom.”

  “Bingo. I volunteered to help and there you were. I was toast.”

  “I never got that impression.” She reached over and traced the curve of his eyebrows. “I thought you were mildly interested.”

  “I was a heat-seeking missile, which scared the crap out of me because I was a virgin and terrified of getting a girl pregnant.”

  “I was a virgin, too.”

  “I never guessed. I believed I’d fallen for the sexiest, most experienced girl in the junior class. I thought about you all summer.”

  “I thought about you, too.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, Jake, I’m not. I kept hoping that I’d run into you that summer, but you were out at the ranch and I was in town. It never happened.”

  “My bad luck.”

  “Or not. By the time school started I was determined to ask you out. If I hadn’t been so persistent I’m not sure we would have dated.”

  He sighed. “Forgive me for being an idiot.” He skimmed her hip with a light touch. “You wanted me and I loused it up.”

  “No you didn’t.” She cupped his face in both hands. “If you hadn’t broken up with me, you would have been my first, and we would have attached so much significance to the experience at that age. Instead my first was someone I didn’t love and I never went out with him again.”

  “What’s good about that story? That first time is supposed to be special.”

  “Was yours?”

  “No, but that was my own fault. There was a party and I was slightly drunk. Never should have happened but she was persistent and I was stupid. We never went out again, either.”

  “See? Let’s say you hadn’t broken up with me and we’d done the deed senior year.”

  “It would have been special.” And, damn it, he wished he could rewrite history.

  “I’m sure it would have been, and we could be married by now. We might have kids. Maybe you wouldn’t be a firefighter and I definitely wouldn’t be moving to LA. It all worked out for the best.”

  Obviously he was supposed to agree with her. He swallowed his initial response, something along the lines of bullshit, and confirmed the part that he did happen to agree with. “Yeah, we were too young for that kind of intense relationship. At least I was. I had a lot to learn.” Although he’d known couples that helped each other grow up. One of his buddies at the station had married his childhood sweetheart and after twenty years they were closer than ever.

  “I had plenty to learn, too.” She smiled at him. “I still do.”

  “Not me. I’ve achieved total perfection.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Is that so?”

  “Ask anybody.” He pulled her close. “I know all, see all. I can even read minds. Right now you’re thinking a little less talk and a little more action. Am I right?”

  “No, you’re not, smarty-pants. I like talking to you.”

  “Of course you do, because I’m a brilliant conversationalist.” He rolled her to her back, which was fun to do when they were both laughing. “But let’s be honest, that’s not the most spectacular thing I can do with my mouth. And I know you, Amethyst Ferguson. You want some of that.”

  Her blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of laughter and lust. “Yes I do, you conceited man. Lay your amazing perfection on me immediately.”

  “You’ve got it.” Capturing her wrists, he stretched them above her head and manacled them with one hand while he looked into her eyes and stroked her warm skin. “I can’t wait to play with my Christmas present.”

  Her breathing changed. “I hope you like it.”

  “I know I will.” Lowering his head, he nibbled on her mouth while he stroked the sleek satin covering her breasts. “When you put this on this morning, did you think of me touching you here?”

  “Yes.” She arched upward so she could thrust her breast into his palm. “And now I want it off.”

  “Are you going to tell me how to unwrap my present?”

  “I’m only making suggestions as the owner of the bra. There’s a front catch, so if you...” She sucked in a breath as he flipped it open and pushed the fabric away so he could massage at will. “Mmm, like that.”

  “Glad you approve.”

  “Turn me loose and I can take it all the way off.”

  “Okay.” He couldn’t help smiling. “Still giving directions, I see.” He loosened his hold on her wrists and helped her out of it.

  “Once it’s unfastened it serves no purpose.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” He grabbed the bra before she could toss it aside. “I’ve always believed in reusing Christmas wrapping.”

  “For what?”

  “A game.” He captured her wrists again and drew them over her head. Then he wound the bra several times around her wrists.

  “Jake Ramsey, are you getting kinky on me?” Her breathy question sounded as if she sincerely hoped so.

  “A little bit. Hold still while I fasten the hooks. How does that feel?”

  “Like I’m no longer in charge of this operation.”

  He cupped her cheek while he feathered a kiss over her mouth. “Yeah, you are. Do you want it undone?”

  “No.” Her voice vibrated with excitement.

  “See, I knew that because I can read your mind.” He ran his tongue over her lower lip as he pulled the flimsy material of her panties aside so he could explore.

  “Then why ask me?”

  “It turns me on to hear you say you like it.”

  “I’ve never let anybody do this before.”

  “But you let me.” He slid his fingers into her wet channel.

  “Because you’re... Jake.” She gasped out his name as he circled her clit with his thumb.

  He left the velvet softness of her mouth and kissed his way to her full breast. “Perfection.” Drawing her nipple into his mouth, he rolled it over his tongue while he pumped his fingers in a slow rhythm.

  “Perfection...perfect—oh...ohhh.” Lifting her hips, she silently asked for more.

  He delved deeper and found her G-spot as he continued to suck on her tight nipple. Her soft whimper became a wail, then a series of panting breaths and finally a lusty cry that made him shiver with happiness. Her orgasm undulated across his fingers and he savored the pleasure of knowing he’d made her come.

  She was still shuddering in reaction when he moved down and wedged his shoulders under her hips. He sacrificed one precious moment to admire the play of Christmas lights over her quivering body. Then he lifted her to his waiting mouth, nudged her panties aside and coaxed her to come again. Gasping and moaning his name, she writhed against the sheets.

  His bed was coming undone but so was she, and that was all that mattered. He’d vowed to drive her crazy tonight and, judging from her wild cries, he was succeeding. As she lay panting beneath him, he made a slow journey back up her moist, hot body, kissing and licking a pathway to her breasts, her throat and, finally, her lips. The flavor of her climax was still on his tongue as he thrust it deep.

  She kissed him back with such heat that he knew she was ready for more. Sliding his hands up her arms, he unbound her wrists. She responded by gripping his head, her fingertips pressing against his scalp as she held him steady so that she could ravish his mouth.

  “Take me.” Her urgent plea was followed by equally urgent kisses.

  The pressure in his cock was almost past enduring. He fumbled blindly for his jeans and by some miracle snagged his finger in a pocket. The condom seemed to leap into his hand. Breaking away from her hungry kiss, he pushed back onto his knees. No condom in the history of birth control had been rolled on this quickly.

  She reached for his hips. “Now, Jake. I want you
inside me.”

  “I want that, too.” His words were choked with the intensity of his need for her. “More than you could ever know.” Poised between her welcoming thighs, he allowed the tip of his cock to slip easily into her wet channel. Then he leaned down and locked his gaze with hers. “Hang on. This might be intense.” Before she could respond, he pushed his hips forward and did exactly what she’d asked. He took her.

  The phrase implied vigorous action, so he gave her that. Full throttle, no holds barred. Her breasts trembled with the force of his cock driving deep.

  But he wasn’t a conquering hero. He was her lover, at least for this brief space of time. So he paused, gasping. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

  She gulped for air. “Never better. Go for it.”

  So he did, but then as he felt his orgasm approaching and knew hers was very close, too, he felt the need to slow things down. Words welled up inside him, words he’d never allowed himself to say. Yet if he didn’t say them now, he might never have the chance.

  Vaguely he understood that saying those words would change everything. But she’d told him to go for it, and that could be interpreted more than one way. Orgasms were wonderful, but without the words he longed to say, what did they mean?

  So instead of rocketing forward to a blazing mutual climax, he eased back on the throttle. Sure, his cock protested, but he was in charge, not the bad boy who only cared about instant gratification. A great deal was at stake, and leaving things unsaid was not a good strategy.

  Amethyst, being a very smart woman, noticed the change in mood immediately. She glanced up at him. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, but I need to tell you something.” He maintained a steady rhythm, but it was nothing like the balls-to-the-wall pace he’d kept up before.

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She must have had a hint of what was coming, because her blue eyes became a little misty. “I have a feeling this is something best left unsaid.”

  “You’re probably right.” He rocked forward, settling into her warmth before instinct made him ease back to create the same friction all over again. Sometimes he wondered why this connection between a man and a woman had to be so complicated. These were the basics. The rest was just details.

  “Then don’t say it.” She bracketed his hips and held on tight. “Just concentrate on the pleasure we give each other.” She rose to meet his thrust. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “Not anymore. You don’t want to hear it, but I have to say it. Amethyst, I love you.”

  Her gaze filled with longing. “Oh, Jake.”

  “I can’t help it. Every minute, every second, with you feels so right. I used to think we didn’t belong together, but not anymore.”

  She reached up to cradle his face in both hands. “We don’t belong together,” she murmured.

  “Why? Because you don’t love me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You can’t say it because it’s not true.” He kept up his lazy rhythm, loving her, wanting her to feel and acknowledge the unbelievable connection between them. “Admit it. You’re in love with me.”

  “What if I am?” Her words were tinged with regret. “That doesn’t change anything.”

  He paused to gaze down at her. “It doesn’t?”

  “No.” Her voice was husky with emotion. “I was in love with you in high school. I’m in love with you now. That won’t affect my decision to leave.”

  He knew she meant what she was saying. She thought herself capable of sacrificing love for her music career. She imagined herself burning those boats. Not tonight, but soon.

  But as she lay warm and succulent in his arms, he had a hard time believing it. She loved everything about her life in Sheridan. She loved him. The woman he’d come to know wouldn’t throw everything away because some college professor had told her she should.

  17

  AMETHYST HAD NEVER been loved so well or so thoroughly, and she knew why. Jake was right. They did belong together, except for one small detail. She’d decided to walk a different path.

  When he left their cozy bed to dispose of the condom in the kitchen, she lay gazing up at the lights on the tree. Then it hit her. The problem was Christmas. The holiday brought out emotions, both good and bad, that lay buried the rest of the year. People expected so much of Christmas—marriage proposals, meaningful gifts, declarations of love.

  She’d thought meeting Jake in the hardware store was a happy coincidence. Why wouldn’t she be thrilled at the prospect of enjoying some hot sex with him during a holiday filled with joy? The timing had seemed perfect, especially after they’d worked out the logistics.

  Instead, they’d created the perfect storm. Without Jake’s arrival, she wouldn’t have met Chelsea or learned about Matt Forrest, a guy who’d spent three years pounding on doors in Hollywood. Meanwhile she’d spent the same amount of time gallivanting around Wyoming hoping to be discovered.

  Matt’s story had showed her the risk she’d been unwilling to take. Problem was, in the midst of getting clarity on that issue, she’d fallen in love with the man she had to leave behind.

  Last summer’s encounter had been about sex. Really good sex, too. The kind that made her reluctant to get naked with anyone else while that vivid memory still simmered in her mind and body. But it hadn’t been love. That development could be blamed entirely on Christmas.

  She’d started to fall when she’d discovered him checking out smoke alarms. Until that moment she hadn’t thought much about his occupation or his dedication to it. Then she’d watched him coming in backward in that broken-down sleigh and had eventually realized that he’d invited her for a sleigh ride without being in possession of one.

  With each change of scene, the facets of his personality had gleamed in a way she might not have noticed without the Christmas festivities. She’d had a chance to observe him interacting with his family and hers, and she’d admired how easily he fit into either situation. She’d watched him handle a deaf old woman’s request with humor, grace and compassion.

  She’d learned more about him in the past two days than she had in weeks of dating him in high school. And she’d revealed more about herself. Her family knew that her sexy persona was an act, but she’d never discussed that with anyone else. Dropping that mask had seemed like a natural thing to do with Jake. After all, she’d been falling in love.

  The subject of her musings, gloriously naked, walked back into the living room. Only the Christmas tree lights were on, which gave him a mysterious, almost otherworldly appearance as he made a slight detour and picked up something from an end table. Then she recognized what it was and smiled.

  “I thought it was time for some of Mrs. Gentry’s cookies.”

  “Excellent thought.” She sat up.

  “I didn’t want to rummage through your refrigerator without asking, but do you have any milk?”

  “I have milk and I also have eggnog. Take your pick.”

  “I’d love some eggnog.”

  “Me, too.” She started to get up.

  “Nope.” He laid a hand on her bare shoulder. “You stay there and relax. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Glasses are in the top cupboard next to the stove.”

  “Thanks.” He walked back into the kitchen and she admired the view. She’d been too blissed out on great sex to think of it the first time he’d left the room. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, tight buns, muscled thighs and calves—she couldn’t imagine a man who would appeal to her physically as much as Jake did.

  Even better, he’d developed that body so he could be a better firefighter. Knowing that he’d probably carried people and animals to safety the way he’d hauled her up those stairs made him quite a hero. He deserved a woman who would be there for him,
who would want to have children, assuming he did. She hadn’t ever asked him and wouldn’t. Not a good subject for them.

  He returned with the eggnog and a couple of glasses. “I didn’t know you liked eggnog.”

  “Love it. I’m always sad when Christmas is over and it disappears from the shelves.”

  “I know!” He handed her the glasses and sat on the blanket, facing her. “Why couldn’t it be available all the time?” He gave the carton a vigorous shake. “It’s not like they couldn’t keep making it.”

  “True.” She held out the glasses while he poured. “It could be marketing. If eggnog’s available all year, then it wouldn’t be special. Think about how wild we were for each other last night. We’re much calmer tonight. Give us another week and we’d be watching TV instead of having sex.”

  “Wrong.” He clinked his glass against hers. “To love.”

  “You and Mrs. Gentry. Both incurable romantics.” She sipped her eggnog.

  “Whereas you’re a flinty-eyed realist.” He dug in the bag and handed her a cookie.

  “I’m not sure about the flinty-eyed part, but I think I’m pretty realistic.” She bit into the cookie, which was shaped like a Christmas tree and covered with green frosting and little candies to simulate ornaments. “She put a lot of work into these.”

  “She did. When I move back here I plan to go see her.”

  “And check out her house for fire hazards?”

  “That, too. She had a couple of cords that looked compromised and I wonder what kind of wiring she has in that house. It’s been there awhile. But mostly I just want to pay her a visit, find out if she needs any errands run, things like that.”

  She melted. If she hadn’t been totally in love with him, that little speech would have done the trick. “What a fabulous idea. I’m sure she’d love having you visit.”

  “And I’d love doing it.” He finished off his cookie and glanced at her. “You’re not eating your snack.”

  “I was imagining you making friends with Mrs. Gentry. If I weren’t leaving, I’d go with you.”