He became lost in the emerald depths of her gaze. He sucked in a breath. “Just so you know, you could talk me into this, no problem. When you get that look in your eyes, I’m your slave. But you could be asking for big trouble.”
“Or I could be asking for a sexy cowboy in my bed for the next week. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t want that?”
He reached for her, couldn’t help it. Touching her grounded him as nothing else could. “I just want you to know that by testing this, you’re pressing on my weak spot. I planned to approach it more gradually.”
“And make love maybe sometime in the next month or so?”
“Yeah, that was never going to work.” He drew her closer. “The one part I like about Kate’s plan is that we can make love tonight.”
“And every night for the next week.”
“I’m not counting my chickens.” He tossed his hat in the general direction of the couch. “But I like my chances for the next twelve hours.” Claiming her mouth, he surrendered to the urge that had been taunting him ever since he’d stepped through the door.
She responded with enthusiasm and his misgivings vanished in the heat of her kiss. She believed in him—way more than he believed in himself. He’d cling to that. As he plundered her mouth and she gave as good as she got, he couldn’t wait to begin this week of discovery. It could end in disaster. In the meantime, he’d treasure every moment with this amazing woman.
* * *
Agreeing to a romantic week with Millie meant Jake had things to do and places to go. It was the only motivation strong enough to get him out of that cozy cottage. Tearing himself away from her hot kisses took willpower, but he needed to shop for food. Instead of cooking for the Brotherhood this week, he’d be cooking for her. He promised to be back by six with dinner fixings and his gear.
When he pulled in at two minutes before six, smoke drifted from the chimney. Fire suited his mood perfectly. Excitement hummed in his veins as he unloaded a duffle stuffed with a week’s worth of clothes, a bottle of champagne and the grocery bag with the perishables in it. He’d come back for the other grocery bag and two six-packs of cider.
She walked out on the porch in an outfit he’d never seen, wide-legged pants and a loose shirt in dark green velour. She wore furry moccasins on her feet. “Can I help?”
“Sure.” Setting down his duffle and the champagne, he held onto the bag of groceries and cupped the back of her head. “I could really use a kiss.”
“On the porch?”
“On my mouth.” He leaned over and captured her smiling lips. Ah, so good. Better keep his wits about him, though, or he’d drop the groceries. This bag had the eggs, and the market was closed.
Reluctantly lifting his head, he gazed into her luminous eyes. “Honey,” he murmured, “I’m home.” He’d intended it as a joke, but it had come out sounding way more meaningful than that.
“How does it feel?” The pink light of sunset bathed her face in a rosy glow.
“Terrific. What’s this you have on?”
“A lounging outfit.”
“Is it new? I’ve never—”
“I’ve had it, but I only wear it when I’m… well, lounging.”
“Is that what we’ll be doing?”
“Sometimes.” Her eyes sparkled. “I mean, we can’t always be—”
“Why not?”
She laughed. “So that’s how it’s going to be.”
“That’s how it’s going to be. But first I’ll feed you. You’ll need the fuel.” He stepped back and handed her the bag of groceries. “I’ll go fetch the rest.”
“Wow, this is heavy. How much did you buy, anyway?”
“A few days’ worth,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll have to shop again to get us through.” He grabbed the other bag. The bouquet he’d chosen was tucked on top, a burst of festive color. First bouquet he’d ever purchased for a woman.
He picked up the cider and headed for the porch. The champagne bottle was gone, so she must have snagged it before going in. Leaving his duffle for now, he walked into the house.
Talk about fire power. From the logs blazing in the fireplace to the candles flickering on nearly every surface in the living room, the place was glowing with warmth and energy. “Love the candles,” he called out as he walked toward the kitchen.
“Me, too.” She met him at the doorway. “I—oh, Jake. You brought flowers.”
“Only because I found a bouquet with no red roses in it. I like flowers, just not that specific one.”
“Well, these are beautiful. Thank you.” She relieved him of the bag. “I’ll put the flowers in water. Just stick the cider in the fridge.”
He found a spot for it. “I’ll get my duffle and that’ll be it.” He brought it into the house. Now what? He’d never been in her bedroom, although he knew which one was hers. “Where would you like me to put—”
She came out of the kitchen carrying a white vase with the flowers in it. “I’ll show you.” She set the flowers on a small table behind the couch. Two chairs from the kitchen stood on either side and she’d added placemats, napkins and silverware.
“Was that table always there?”
“It was over by the window. I moved it so we can eat and enjoy the fire.”
“Nice.”
“Come on back. I cleared some space for you.”
He followed her down the hall. “You didn’t need to do that. I can just keep everything in my duffle.”
“You could, but that makes it easier for you to clear out if we get crossways with each other.”
“Aha! You think we will, too.”
“Not at all. We’ll have a lovely time.” She led him into her bedroom, walked to the dresser and pulled out the top drawer. “You can have this for your underwear.”
“Okay.” Her comment barely registered. He was too busy staring at the bed. “I didn’t know you had a king.”
“Crazy, I know. It’s too big for the room, but when I went shopping for a bed, this was only a little more than the queen and I loved the rustic look of the headboard. I thought, why not? The frame will last me a lifetime.”
“It’s…” He took a shaky breath. “I can see why you’d…” He was babbling, so he stopped talking until he could get his bearings. The beautifully carved headboard and the wide expanse of mattress covered by a multi-colored quilt constituted his ultimate bed fantasy.
“I’ve had it about two years and I love it. Sue left me her double bed when she moved out, but I always knew I’d replace it when I had the money.”
“You did well.” He kept his distance from her, although he couldn’t keep his distance from the bed. One kiss and they’d be on it. He wanted to lead up to making love, not grab her within fifteen minutes of his arrival.
“This is my dream bed. Hope you like it.”
“I do.”
She gave him a quick glance.
He shrugged. “Anyone would.”
Chapter Seventeen
If Millie stayed in that room much longer, she’d tackle Jake. Not cool. She slid open the closet door. “Plenty of hangers and space for the rest of your clothes. Kate took her lotions and potions out of the bathroom so you can put your toiletries in there.”
“Thanks.” His chest heaved. “Appreciate you both making room for me.”
“Of course. I’ll leave you to it.” Or she would after she squeezed past him. “Excuse me. Tight quarters.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me, lady.”
“Right backatcha, cowboy. I’ll start putting away the food.” She hurried back down the hall. After rearranging the logs in the fireplace and adding another one, she returned to the kitchen and continued unloading the second bag.
She left the package of two filets out, guessing they were for tonight. He’d splurged on those, along with some pricey asparagus and out-of-season salad greens and cherry tomatoes.
He’d hit the grocery store’s bakery case for cinnamon rolls for breakfast and an apple pie,
supplied to the market by the Apple Barrel. She discovered the pint of vanilla ice cream before it started melting.
He’d even bought a package of butter. She had it in her hand when he walked into the kitchen. She held it up. “I have butter. We can use—”
“I’m partial to that brand.”
“Isn’t all butter the same?”
“Not to me. That one’s amazing. I can taste the difference.”
“Kate’s discriminating, but she gets some generic brand.”
“I’ll bet she wouldn’t if she once tried this. It’s worth the expense.”
She laughed. “I’ve never met a butter snob before.”
“Well, now you have.”
She swept a hand over the counter laden with groceries. “I didn’t expect you to provide all the food. And I’ll share the cooking chores.”
“I don’t think of cooking as a chore. It relaxes me. And—” He paused and dipped his head. “Huh.”
“What?”
He glanced up. “My father doesn’t cook. I never made the connection between that and my love for it. Mom cooks, but with zero enthusiasm.”
“I’ve seen you in action. Major enthusiasm.”
“And maybe I have dear old dad to thank for it, although he certainly didn’t mean to do me a favor.” He shook his head. “That’s enough about him, though. I don’t want to spend any more time talking about the guy.”
“In any case, you’ve convinced me that cooking is your passion, and I—”
“One of my passions.”
His direct gaze made her flush. “What I was about to say is—the kitchen is all yours. I’ll try not to get in your way.”
“That’s no fun.” He rolled back his sleeves and washed up at the sink. “Get in the way all you want. Kiss the cook often and deeply. It’ll inspire me.”
“I never thought of cooking as an erotic experience.”
“No? I always have.” He turned to her. “I didn’t buy or bring spices. I was counting on Kate having—”
“She does. A bunch.” She pulled out one of the under-counter drawers and stepped back to let him inspect the contents.
He studied the array of bottles like an artist choosing his color palette. After taking out several jars, he asked for a bowl and mixed up a concoction of olive oil, wine vinegar and various spices.
“Salad dressing?”
“Could be, but it’s marinade for the steak. Now I need a small baking dish.”
She pulled one out of a cupboard. “Like this?”
“Perfect.” He unwrapped the steaks, tucked them in the dish and poured the contents of the bowl over them. “Normally I’d marinade them for much longer, let them get totally juiced up, but they only get a quickie tonight.”
Right on cue, her body grew moist and achy. “You’re a devil, Jake Lassiter.”
“Just demonstrating the erotic nature of cooking, since you said it was a new concept.”
“Not anymore.”
“I need to pay attention to these asparagus stalks, now.”
“I’m hesitant to ask what you’re planning to do to them.”
“Got a steamer?”
“Yes.” She dug in a bottom cupboard and found it.
“These stalks are stiff and unyielding. But a little warm steam and they’ll surrender, becoming supple. A drizzle of virgin olive oil and a light dusting of spices and they’re ready for the heat from the broiler and the climactic moment when they’ll burst with flavor.”
“This is the most X-rated cooking demonstration I’ve ever seen. How many times have you gone through this routine?” With other women?
“Never.”
“Never?”
He smiled. “I’m a ham, Millie. All you had to say was I’ve never thought of cooking as an erotic experience. I was off to the races.”
“You made all this up just now?”
“Yes, ma’am. Got a kiss for the cook?”
She sashayed over to him and grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands. “I want to rip the clothes from your body and have my way with you on the kitchen floor.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He pulled her close and kissed her until her panties were drenched and she was gasping for air.
She drew back a fraction of an inch. “Come to bed with me. Now.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Without preamble, he scooped her up and carried her out of the kitchen. “Steak needs more time in the marinade, anyway.”
“Not me.” She was giddy with excitement and the glorious rush of unchecked desire. She’d lost one moccasin when he picked her up and she kicked off the other one. “I’m juicy and tender. Bring on the heat.”
“Oh, I’ll be bringing it, Millie-girl. I’ve waited a long time for this.” He carried her through the door of her bedroom.
“You left on the bedside light.”
“Yes, ma’am. And turned down the covers.”
“No way.”
He laid her on the cool sheet, proving his point. “If you’re going to leave me alone in your bedroom, I’m going to set it up the way it needs to be when the time comes.”
Two condoms lay on the nightstand. “You’re incredible.”
“Thanks for noticing.” He braced a hand on the nightstand and pulled off his boots. “I have a strong suspicion you’re naked under that outfit.”
“Would I do that?”
“God, I hope so.”
“Guess you’ll have to find out.”
His blue eyes darkened to navy. “I estimate I’ll make that discovery in about thirty seconds.” Straightening, he began stripping out of his clothes. His shirt and T-shirt went flying.
He was mouth-wateringly beautiful. In the heat of a summer day he’d often peel off his shirt when he was working, fueling her fantasy of someday caressing his sculpted body. That day had arrived. She left the bed.
He paused, his hands at his belt buckle.
She met his hot gaze. “Can I do something first?”
“What?”
“This.” She placed a hand on either side of his neck, stroked across his broad shoulders and down the swell of his biceps. “Your skin’s hot.”
“So’s the rest of me.” His voice fell into the low, sexy range that gave her the shivers.
Smoothing her palms over his muscled forearms, she grasped his hands and lifted them to her shoulders. “I’ve dreamed of touching you this way.”
“I’ve dreamed of touching you every way.”
“I want you to.” She caressed his firm pecs, pausing to absorb the rapid thud of his heart. “But first…” She slid her hands over his abs and reached for his belt buckle.
Unfastening it, she drew his belt through the loops, taking her time. She let it drop to the floor. Her heart thrummed with excitement as she undid the metal button of his jeans and worked the zipper down.
He gasped. “Millie…”
“Before you get suited up…” She dragged in a breath. “I’m dying to get my hands on you.”
His chest heaved. Then he shoved down his jeans and briefs and kicked them away. “By all means.”
Chapter Eighteen
Good thing he’d perfected the art of restraint where Millie was concerned. He’d need every ounce of it. The moment she wrapped her warm fingers around his aching cock, the urge to climax hit him hard.
He fought it. He was stunned that she wanted to touch him, that she’d interrupted the action so she could do it. He closed his eyes and vowed he wouldn’t come. Her intimate caress felt like heaven. Holding back was hell.
“Thank you.” She let go and backed away.
He opened his eyes. “You’re thanking me?”
“Oh, yeah.” She was breathing fast as she gave him a once-over. “You and whatever planets aligned to bring you here tonight.” Her eyes glowed. “The image of you standing in my room gloriously naked and aroused is mine forever. The tactile memory, too.”
“I had no idea that—”
“I
’d enjoy looking at you? Running my hands over your magnificent body?”
“Thought that was just a guy thing.”
“Nope. But now that you mention it…” She pulled her top over her head and let it drop to the floor. “Your turn.”
He sucked in a breath. All that bounty. He started forward.
“Hang on.” Pushing down her pants, she wiggled her hips. The pants slid to the floor and she stepped out of them. “Now we match.”
His brain checked out. Her hip wiggle and the corresponding shimmy of her breasts had activated a primitive, single-minded drive. Reaching her in one stride, he wrapped her in a tight embrace. Ahh. He groaned as her plump breasts yielded to his pecs and her hips cradled his cock.
She pulled his head down, her mouth seeking his. Thrusting his tongue deep, he filled his hands with her tight little ass. Then he lifted her from the floor and edged closer to the side of the bed.
She whimpered and wrapped her legs around his hips. Perfect. Leaning over, he laid her on the bed and followed her down. Half-crazed and panting with anticipation, he broke away from her kiss and freed his hips. This would go fast.
Sliding from the bed, he stood and grabbed a packet from the nightstand.
“Hurry.”
“I will.” Her breathy plea fired him up even more. But he had the shakes, which slowed him down and he muttered a swear word.
“Jake?”
“It’s fine.” He rolled the condom in place. “Everything’s fine.” He glanced at the bed.
She’d scooted closer to the far edge to give him room. They’d make love crossways on the bed. Didn’t matter on a king.
Nothing mattered but returning to Millie. Her luminescent gaze followed his progress as he put a knee on the bed. He kept eye contact as he made his way back to her smiling mouth, moist from his kisses.
Bracing his forearms on either side of her head, he eased down until the quivering tips of her breasts tickled his chest hair. “Hope I’m not dreaming this.”
Big-Hearted Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 2) Page 9