Rancher's Wild Secret & Hold Me, Cowboy (Gold Valley Vineyards Book 1)

by Maisey Yates

  She wasn’t so young anymore. She wasn’t naive at all. When it came right down to it, she was hot for Sam. She had been for a long time.

  She’d had so much caution for so long. So much hiding. So much not doing. Well, she was tired of that.

  “I was very disappointed about Christopher not making it up here,” she said, just as Sam was putting the last bite of steak into his mouth.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “Very disappointed.”

  “Nobody likes blue balls, Maddy, even if they don’t have testicles.”

  She forced a laugh through her constricted throat. “That’s hilarious,” she said.

  He looked up at her slowly. “No,” he said, “it wasn’t.”

  She let out a long, slow breath. “Okay,” she said, “it wasn’t that funny. But here’s the thing. The reason I was so looking forward to tonight is that I hadn’t had sex with Christopher before. In fact, I haven’t had sex with anyone in ten years. So. Maybe you could help me with that?”

  Three

  Sam was pretty sure he must be hallucinating. Because there was no way Madison West had just propositioned him. Especially not on the heels of admitting that it had been ten years since she’d had sex.

  Hell, he was starting to think that he was the celibacy champion. But clearly, Maddy had him beat. Or she didn’t, because there was no way in hell that she had actually said any of that.

  “Are you drunk, Madison?” It was the first thing that came to mind, and it seemed like an important thing to figure out.

  “After one Jack Daniel’s and Coke? Absolutely not. I am a West, dammit. We can hold our liquor. I am...reckless, opportunistic and horny. A lot horny. I just... I need this. Sam, do you know what it’s like to go ten years without doing something? It becomes a whole thing. Like, a whole big thing that starts to define you, even if it shouldn’t. And you don’t want anyone to know. Oh, my gosh, can you even imagine if my friends knew that it has been ten years since I have seen an actual...?” She took a deep breath, then forged on. “I’m rambling and I just really need this.”

  Sam felt like he had been hit over the head with a metric ton of iron. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to this—the strangest of all propositions—from a woman who had professed to hate him only a few moments ago.

  He had always thought Madison was a snob. A pain in his ass, even if she was a pretty pain in the ass. She was always looming around, looking down her nose at him while he did his work. As though only the aristocracy of Copper Ridge could possibly know how to do the lowly labor he was seeing to. Even if they hadn’t the ability to do it themselves.

  The kinds of people who professed to have strengths in “management.” People who didn’t know how to get their hands dirty.

  He hated people like that. And he had never been a fan of Madison West.

  He, Sam McCormack, should not be interested in taking her up on her offer. No, not in any way. However, Sam McCormack’s dick was way more interested in it than he would’ve liked to admit.

  Immediately, he was rock hard thinking about what it would be like to have her delicate, soft hands skimming over him. He had rough hands. Workman’s hands. The kind of hands that a woman like Madison West had probably never felt against her rarefied flesh.

  Hell, the fact that it had been ten years since she’d gotten any made that even more likely. And damn if that didn’t turn him on. It was kind of twisted, a little bit sick, but then, it was nothing short of what he expected from himself.

  He was a lot of things. Good wasn’t one of them.

  Ready to explode after years of repressing his desires, after years of pushing said desire all down and pretending it wasn’t there? He was that.

  “I’m not actually sure you want this,” he said, wondering what the hell he was doing. Giving her an out when he wanted to throw her down and make her his.

  Maddy stood up, not about to be cowed by him. He should have known that she would take that as a challenge. Maybe he had known that. Maybe it was why he’d said it.

  That sounded like him. That sounded a lot more like him than trying to do the honorable thing.

  “You don’t know what I want, Sam,” she said, crossing the space between them, swaying her hips just a little bit more than she usually did.

  He would be a damn liar if he said that he had never thought about what it might be like to grab hold of those hips and pull Maddy West up against him. To grind his hardness against her soft flesh and make her feel exactly what her snobby-rich-girl mouth did to him.

  But just because he’d fantasized about it before, didn’t mean he had ever anticipated doing it. It didn’t mean that he should take her up on it now.

  Still, the closer she got to him, the less likely it seemed that he was going to say no.

  “I think that after ten years of celibacy a man could make the argument that you don’t know what you want, Madison West.”

  Her eyes narrowed, glittering blue diamonds that looked like they could cut a man straight down to the bone. “I’ve always known what I wanted. I may not have always made the best decisions, but I was completely certain that I wanted them. At the time.”

  His lips tipped upward. “I’m just going to be another at the time, Maddy. Nothing else.”

  “That was the entire point of this weekend. For me to have something that didn’t have consequences. For me to get a little bit of something for myself. Is that so wrong? Do I have to live a passionless existence because I made a mistake once? Am I going to question myself forever? I just need to... I need to rip the Band-Aid off.”

  “The Band-Aid?”

  “The sex Band-Aid.”

  He nodded, pretending that he understood. “Okay.”

  “I want this,” she said, her tone confident.

  “Are you...suggesting...that I give you...sexual healing?”

  She made a scoffing sound. “Don’t make it sound cheesy. This is very serious. I would never joke about my sexual needs.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m doing this wrong. I’m just...”

  Suddenly, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his. The moment she did it, it was like the strike of a hammer against hot iron. As rigid as he’d been before—in that moment, he bent. And easily.

  Staying seated in the chair, he curved himself around Madison, wrapping his arms around her body, sliding his hands over her back, down to the sweet indent of her waist, farther still to the flare of those pretty hips. The hips he had thought about taking hold of so many times before.

  There was no hesitation now. None at all. There was only this. Only her. Only the soft, intoxicating taste of her on his tongue. Sugar, Jack Daniel’s and something that was entirely Maddy.

  Too rich for his blood. Far too expensive for a man like him. It didn’t matter what he became. Didn’t matter how much money he had in his bank account, he would always be what he was. There was no escaping it. Nobody knew. Not really. Not the various women who had graced his bed over the years, not his brother, Chase.

  Nobody knew Sam McCormack.

  At least, nobody alive.

  Neither, he thought, would Madison West. This wasn’t about knowing anybody. This was just about satisfying a need. And he was simple enough to take her up on that.

  He wedged his thigh up between her legs, pressing his palm down on her lower back, encouraging her to flex her hips in time with each stroke of his tongue. Encouraging her to satisfy that ache at the apex of her thighs.

  Her head fell back, her skin flushed and satisfaction grabbed him by the throat, gripping him hard and strong. It would’ve surprised him if he hadn’t suspected he was the sort of bastard who would get off on something like this.

  Watching this beautiful, classy girl coming undone in his arms.

  She was right. This
weekend could be out of time. It could be a moment for them to indulge in things they would never normally allow themselves to have. The kinds of things that he had closed himself off from years ago.

  Softness, warmth, touch.

  He had denied himself all those things for years. Why not do this now? No one would know. No one would ever have to know. Maddy would see to that. She would never, no chance in hell, admit that she had gotten down and dirty with a man who was essentially a glorified blacksmith.

  No way in hell.

  That made them both safe. It made this safe. Well, as safe as fire this hot could be.

  She bit his lip and he growled, pushing his hands up underneath the hem of her shirt, kissing her deeper as he let his fingertips roam to the line of her elegant spine, then tracing it upward until he found her bra, releasing it with ease, then dragging it and her top up over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up.

  “I...” Her face was a bright shade of red. “I... I have lingerie. I wasn’t going to...”

  “I don’t give a damn about your lingerie. I just want this.” He lowered his head, sliding his tongue around the perimeter of one of her tightened nipples. “I want your skin.” He closed his lips over that tight bud, sucking it in deep.

  “I had a seduction plan,” she said, her voice trembling. He wasn’t entirely sure it was a protest, or even a complaint.

  “You don’t plan passion, baby,” he said.

  At least, he didn’t. Because if he were thinking clearly, he would be putting her top back on and telling her to go back to her ice-cold cabin, where she would be safe.

  “I do,” she said, her teeth chattering in spite of the fact that it was very warm in the kitchen. “I plan everything.”

  “Not this. You’re a dirty girl now, Madison West,” he said, sliding his thumb over her damp nipple, moving it in a slow circle until she arched her back and cried out. “You were going to sleep with another man this weekend, and you replaced him so damn easily. With me. Doesn’t even matter to you who you have. As long as you get a little bit. Is that how it is?”

  She whimpered, biting her lip, rolling her hips against him.

  “Good girl,” he said, his gut tightening, his arousal so hard he was sure he was going to burst through the front of his jeans. “I like that. I like you being dirty for me.”

  He moved his hands then, curving his fingers around her midsection, his thumbs resting just beneath the swell of her breasts. She was so soft, so smooth, so petite and fragile. Everything he should never be allowed to put his hands on. But for some reason, instead of feeling a bolt of shame, he felt aroused. Hotter and harder than he could ever remember being. “You like that? My hands are rough. Maybe a little bit too rough for you.”

  “No,” she said, and this time the protest was clear. “Not too rough for me at all.”

  He slid his hands down her back, taking a moment to really revel in how soft she was and how much different he must feel to her. She squirmed against him, and he took that as evidence that she really did like it.

  That only made him hotter. Harder. More impatient.

  “You didn’t bring your damn candy and forget the condoms, did you?”

  “No,” she said, the denial coming quickly. “I brought the condoms.”

  “You always knew we would end up like this, didn’t you?”

  She looked away from him, and the way she refused to meet his eyes turned a throwaway game of a question into something deadly serious.

  “Madison,” he said, his voice hard. She still didn’t look at him. He grabbed hold of her chin, redirecting her face so that she was forced to make eye contact with him. “You knew this would happen all along, didn’t you?”

  She still refused to answer him. Refused to speak.

  “I think you did,” he continued. “I think that’s why you can never say a kind word to me. I think that’s why you acted like a scalded cat every time I walked into the room. Because you knew it would end here. Because you wanted this. Because you wanted me.”

  Her expression turned even more mutinous.

  “Madison,” he said, a warning lacing through the word. “Don’t play games with me. Or I’m not going to give you what you want. So you have to tell me. Tell me that you’ve always wanted me. You’ve always wanted my dirty hands on you. That’s why you hate me so damn much, isn’t it? Because you want me.”

  “I...”

  “Madison,” he said, his tone even more firm, “tell me—” he rubbed his hand over her nipple “—or I stop.”

  “I wanted you,” she said, the admission rushed but clear all the same.

  “More,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice. “Tell me more.”

  It seemed essential suddenly, to know she’d wanted him. He didn’t know why. He didn’t care why.

  “I’ve always wanted you. From the moment I first saw you. I knew that it would be like this. I knew that I would climb up into your lap and I would make a fool of myself rubbing all over you like a cat. I knew that from the beginning. So I argued with you instead.”

  He felt a satisfied smile that curved his lips upward. “Good girl.” He lowered his hands, undoing the snap on her jeans and drawing the zipper down slowly. “You just made us both very happy.” He moved his fingertips down beneath the waistband of her panties, his breath catching in his throat when he felt hot wetness beneath his touch. It had been way too long since he felt a silky-smooth desirable woman. Had been way too long in his self-imposed prison.

  Too long since he’d wanted at all.

  But Madison wasn’t Elizabeth. And this wasn’t the same.

  He didn’t need to think about her. He wasn’t going to. Not for the rest of the night.

  He pushed every thought out of his mind and instead exulted in the sound that Madison made when he moved his fingers over that place where she was wet and aching for him. When he delved deeper, pushing one finger inside her, feeling just how close she was to the edge, evidenced by the way her internal muscles clenched around him. He could thrust into her here. Take her hard and fast and she would still come. He knew that she would.

  But she’d had ten years of celibacy, and he was pushing on five. They deserved more. They deserved better. At the very least they deserved a damn bed.

  With that in mind, he wrapped his arms more tightly around her, moving his hands to cup her behind as he lifted her, wrapping her legs tightly around him as he carried them across the kitchen and toward the stairs.

  Maddy let out an inelegant squeak as he began to ascend toward the bedrooms. “This is really happening,” she said, sounding slightly dazed.

  “I thought you said you weren’t drunk.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then try not to look so surprised. It’s making me question things. And I don’t want to question things. I just want you.”

  She shivered in his hold. “You’re not like most men I know.”

  “Pretty boys with popped collars and pastel polo shirts? I must be a real disappointment.”

  “Obviously you aren’t. Obviously I don’t care about men in pastel polo shirts or I would’ve gotten laid any number of times in the past decade.”

  He pushed open the bedroom door, threw her down over the simply appointed bed that was far too small for the kind of acrobatics he wanted to get up to tonight. Then he stood back, admiring her, wearing nothing but those half-open jeans riding low on her hips, her stomach dipping in with each breath, her breasts thrust into greater prominence at the same time.

  “Were you waiting for me?” He kept the words light, taunting, because he knew that she liked it.

  She had always liked sparring with him. That was what they’d always done. Of course she would like it now. Of course he would like it now. Or maybe it had nothing to do with her. Maybe it had everything to do with the fact that he had years
’ worth of dirty in him that needed to be let out.

  “Screw you,” she said, pushing herself back farther up the mattress so that her head was resting on the pillow. Then she put her hands behind her head, her blue gaze sharp. “Come on, cowboy. Get naked for me.”

  “Oh no, Maddy, you’re not running the show.”

  “Ten years,” she said, her gaze level with his. “Ten years, Sam. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen a naked man. And let me tell you, I have never seen a naked man like you.” She held up a finger. “One man. One insipid man. He wasn’t even that good.”

  “You haven’t had sex for ten years and your last lover wasn’t even good? I was sort of hoping that it had been so good you were waiting for your knees to stop shaking before you bothered to go out and get some again.”

  “If only. My knees never once shook. In fact, they’re shaking harder now and you haven’t even gotten out of those pants yet.”

  “You give good dirty talk.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I’m good at talking. That’s about the thing I’m best at.”

  “Oh, I hope not, baby. I hope that mouth is good for a lot of other things too.”

  He saw her breasts hitch. Her eyes growing round. Then he smiled, grabbing hold of the hem of his shirt and stripping it off over his head. Her reaction was more satisfying than he could’ve possibly anticipated. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a woman looking at him that way.

  Sure, women checked him out. That happened all the time. But this was different. This was raw, open hunger. She wasn’t bothering to hide it. Why would she? They were both here to do this. No holds barred, no clothes, no nothing. Why bother to be coy? Why bother to pretend this was about anything other than satisfying lust. And if that was all it was, why should either of them bother to hide that lust.

  “Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, this is gonna end fast.”

  “Don’t do that,” she said, a wicked smile on her lips. “You’re no good to me in that case.”

  “Don’t worry, babe. I can get it up more than once.”