The Last Cowboy Standing

by Barbara Dunlop

  He wrapped his arm around the small of her back, pulling her against him. Her bag dropped to the floor as she reveled in the heat of his steel hard thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her head fall back, drinking in the magic of his kiss and letting waves of passion wash through her.

  His thumb slipped beneath the hem of her tank top, stroking the bare skin of her back, tracing the small bumps of her spine, first up and then down.

  Feeling her way, she flicked open the buttons of his shirt, sliding her palms along his washboard stomach and the definition of his chest, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat. She found a small scar near his left nipple, tracing the ridge with her fingertip. She eased back from his kiss, dipping her head to kiss the scar. Then she kissed a path to his shoulder, pushing off his shirt.

  He shrugged out of it, finding her lips, kissing her deeply as his hands skimmed her bare skin and cupped her breasts through her lacy bra. He groaned again and scooped her into his strong arms. She clung to him, still kissing as he carried her across the suite, through a set of double doors, and into a massive bedroom with a four-poster bed.

  The room was lit softly by a bedside lamp. The French doors were propped open, sheer curtains billowing in the warm breeze.

  He set her on her feet. Then he peeled off her tank top, pulling it over her raised arms, tossing it on a nearby chair while his gaze feasted on her snowy white bra.

  “You get more beautiful by the second.”

  She splayed her hands across his tanned chest. “So do you.” She found the scar again. “Bull?” she asked.

  “Don’t remember.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’ve got a few of them. Does it bother you?”

  “Not at all. They make you seem rugged and sexy.”

  He gave a playful grin. “I am rugged and sexy.”

  “That you are,” she agreed. Then, feeling bold, she reached back and released her bra, letting it fall away. “I’m not exactly rugged.”

  He drank in the sight of her bare breasts. “I’d hate it if you were. You’re soft and sexy, exactly how you’re supposed to be.”

  She watched as his tanned, callused hand closed over her breast. His palm was warm, but her nipple beaded hard in reaction.

  He curled an arm around her waist again, drawing her close.

  “Soft,” he whispered as his lips came down on hers.

  She inhaled his scent, drank in his taste, tangled her tongue with his. He felt so incredibly good pressed against her. She gave her passion free rein, letting the rest of the world fall away.

  He seemed content to kiss her forever. But the heat was building inside her, and she was impatient to feel all of him. She slipped her hand between their bodies, popping the button on the top of his jeans.

  He copied her move, releasing her button.

  She slid down his zipper.

  He sucked in a breath, and did the same.

  She pulled back and smiled. Stepping away, she kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her jeans.

  He did the same, standing in black boxers, staring at her skimpy, white lace panties.

  She hooked her thumbs into the thin strip of fabric.

  He snagged his waistband.

  “Shall we count to three?” she joked.

  “Three.” He stripped down his boxers, kicking them across the floor.

  She waited, just to see what he’d do.

  He crossed the small space and drew her into his arms. His hands skimmed down her back, cupping her buttocks while he kissed her neck. His magical lips made their way to her shoulder, across her chest. Then with excruciating slowness drew one nipple into his hot mouth.

  She groaned with pleasure, scraping her fingernails across his thick hair. He moved to the other, and she gripped his shoulders to steady herself. A craving pushed its way through her bloodstream, peaking her nipples and pooling in her lower belly.

  She gasped his name.

  He instantly scooped her up, lifting her to lay her on the soft, satin bed. He reached for her panties, drawing them slowly down the length of her legs. Then he rose above her, all sinew, strength and power. It was by far the sexiest moment of her life.

  Without hesitating, she eased her legs apart.

  “More beautiful by the second,” he rasped, bending lower to kiss the inside of her knee.

  As he worked his way up, she couldn’t hold still, twitching then squirming, then gasping and arching off the bed as he reached home. He kept going, kissing her belly, making her quiver as he reached her breasts, then her neck, then finally her mouth.

  She slid her hands down his back, over his buttocks, around to grasp him, reveling in the hot texture and her own anticipation.

  “You in a hurry?” he rasped in her ear.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  He reached for the bed stand, producing a condom.

  In moments, he was above her again, kissing her deeply, kneading her bottom, adjusting her thighs, pressing against her, slipping inside her, deeper and deeper. He felt so incredibly good.

  She groaned in satisfaction, tipping her hips, wrapping her legs around him. His tongue stroked the inside of her mouth. Her hands gripped his back, tighter and tighter. Desire coiled in her belly, while his long strokes and satisfying rhythm spiraled her higher and higher.

  The room grew hotter, and moisture beaded across her body. Traffic sounds blended to a roar in her ears, while the breeze teased her damp, sensitized skin. Then time and space disappeared, nothing existing except the pulse of Travis and the primal urge of her own body to reach for the pinnacle of release.

  Color glowed to life inside her brain, shooting sparks of light along her synapses while pleasure built along her limbs, curling her toes and drawing moans of intense desire from her deep in her chest. Travis echoed the sounds, increasing his pace, his breathing speeding up, his heart thumping strong against her chest.

  Then, her body roared and her world convulsed, and she cried out his name while waves of pure pleasure raced through her body. His kiss deepened, and he grasped her tightly to him while his own body shuddered with completion.

  She spent long minutes drawing in deep breaths, her chest moving up and down. He shifted his weight, easing partway off, one leg staying over hers, his hand splayed across her stomach. The ornate, white pine posts of the bed came into focus, then the paintings on the wall, mounted above a cream-colored sofa and two peach armchairs.

  She pushed her damp hair back from her forehead and stretched the kinks out of her legs. “Probably a good thing we didn’t know that.”

  He kissed the tip of her shoulder. “Didn’t know what?”

  She turned to look at him, not feeling remotely coy or shy. “How it would be between us. We might not have waited two years.”

  Comprehension dawned in his eyes, and his mouth crooked in a wry smile. “I might not have waited two minutes.”

  * * *

  The first thing to enter Travis’s sleep-filled brain was the scent of wild flowers. His thoughts wafted to Lyndon Valley, the springtime colors, the rolling hills. But then he felt the satin skin of Danielle’s stomach, warm and soft under his rough fingertips. He heard her breathing and realized the scent was her shampoo.

  This was better than home, so much better than home.

  He blinked his eyes open to gaze at her delicate profile. Her hair was mussed from sleep, her eye makeup slightly smeared, her cheeks flushed, and her dark lips parted.

  She’d stayed.

  He smiled at the knowledge that she’d slept in his arms.

  “You’re awake early,” came her husky voice.

  “So are you,” he whispered in return.

  “You woke me up.”

  “I didn’t me
an to.”

  “You moved your leg.”

  “I didn’t mean to do that, either.” He’d have stayed perfectly still for hours if it kept her in his arms.

  She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, opening her dark fringed, coffee-brown eyes to look at him. “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe seven.”

  She shifted up on one elbow, the drape of the white sheet covering her rounded breasts. “Do you have to get up?”

  “Not yet. You?”

  She shook her head. “I need to meet with Caleb, but my flight’s not until noon.” Then her expression faltered, and she sat up, bringing the sheet with her. “Unless you want me to have to get up. I can’t tell, was that a question or a hint?”

  He reached out to slide an arm around her waist, tugging her back toward him. “It was definitely a question. And I was absolutely hoping you’d say no.”

  He stretched up to meet her, kissing her lips.

  He’d meant it to be playful, but the kiss quickly deepened to sensual. She kissed him back, and it turned very serious. Arousal instantly snaked its way through his body. He eased back on the pillow, drawing her against his bare chest.

  His hands stroked down her back, reminding himself of every inch of her. She stretched out, laying on top of him, limbs entwining with his, her soft breasts pressing against his chest. His arms wrapped themselves around her, holding her close, losing himself in the magic of her taste, scent and texture.

  She drew back, smiling. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” he responded, trying to gauge if he was taking things too fast.

  “I forgot to tell you something.”

  Disappointment slid through him. “You have to go?”

  “No. Not that.” She pushed up so that she was sitting, straddling his hips.

  He liked that position, liked it a lot, even though the moist contact of her body made it difficult to concentrate on anything she might say. He struggled not to fix his gaze on her beautiful breasts. They were round, pert, beautifully pink-tipped, and exactly the right size for his palm.

  “Randal tried to kiss me.”

  Travis’s attention flew to her face.

  “He what?”

  “He tried to kiss me. After the windup reception.”

  “Did you let him?”

  Though Travis knew leaping from the bed to slam a fist into Randal’s face was stupid—for one thing, Randal was back in D.C.—he desperately wanted to injure the man.

  “No, I didn’t let him,” Danielle responded tartly.

  Travis felt marginally better. “What happened?”

  “He tried to talk me into accepting the job in D.C. He said he didn’t know where things were going with his girlfriend. And this would give us a second chance.”

  Travis battled hard against the anger and frustration building inside him. He wasn’t angry with Danielle. It wasn’t her fault Randal had no morals. Still, his tone came out harsher than he’d intended. “Do you want a second chance?”

  She glanced down at their naked bodies. “Do I look like I want a second chance with Randal?”

  Good point. She was in Travis’s bed, naked, and Randal was halfway across the country. Some of his anger dissipated.

  “What I’m saying here, is that you were right, and I was wrong. I misjudged Randal. I’m owning up to that.”

  Travis’s hands reflexively reached forward, bracketing her hips, hoping he’d heard what he thought he’d heard. “What did you just say?”

  “You want me to repeat it?”

  His body felt lighter, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, Travis Jacobs. You were right, and I was wrong.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  The second the words were out, a wave of emotion cascaded through his body. He wasn’t sure whether it was horror, shock or longing. He did know it had been a dumb thing to say, even as a joke.

  Luckily, Danielle laughed. “Sorry, Travis. But your ego is going to have to make it through life without my constant reinforcement.”

  He gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

  “So, what are you going to do?” he asked.

  She sobered. “I’m still thinking about it. If I go to D.C., Randal might be a hassle for a while. But he’ll eventually get the message.”

  Travis hoped that was the case. He hated the thought that Randal might somehow change her mind.

  “It’s a fantastic opportunity,” she told him wistfully.

  Travis found his focus going to his hands. They were callused and scarred, tanned dark against her creamy, soft skin. There was no better metaphor for the distance between them.

  He might want her. He certainly wanted her badly at the moment. But the divide between them was huge. He was a coarse, backwoods cowboy, who made a living with his hands. She was a gorgeous, sophisticated woman, brilliant enough to take on the best in the world and win.

  Unexpectedly, her fingertips touched against his stomach. “What about you?” she asked.

  He didn’t understand the question, so he made a joke. “Nobody offered me a job in D.C.”

  “Have you ever thought about what you want to do?”

  “I’m a Colorado rancher.”

  “I know that. But you hinted that night at the party that you might have broader aspirations. Your brother and sisters all expanded their horizons.”

  Travis tried not to be offended by her phrasing. “Corey thinks I should go pro on the bull riding circuit.”

  “Wow.” She squeezed her hands around his waist. “That’ll challenge your intellect.”

  His jaw tensed. “We can’t all be geniuses.”

  “I’m sorry,” she offered.

  “Sorry that I’m not a genius?”

  She smacked his hip with her open palm. “Sorry that you’re such a grouch.”

  He gave her a suggestive wag of his brow. “Want to do that again?”

  She tossed her short hair. “You’re trying to distract me.”

  “I’m glad you’re catching on.”

  “You don’t want to talk about it, do you?”

  He pulled into a sitting position, bringing his face in front of hers. “Talking is definitely not what I want to do right now.”

  She looped her arms over his shoulders. “What is it you want to do, cowboy?”

  He lifted his brow again. “Can I see the rest of your pictures?”

  The question clearly took her by surprise. “I’m burning those damn pictures.”

  He smoothed back her hair, tone cajoling. “Oh, don’t do that. Lock them away if you want to, but don’t destroy them.”

  “It was a foolish idea to have them taken. I’m not the kind of woman who takes naughty pictures.”

  He slipped his hands up her hips, along her waistline and over the sides of her breasts. He cradled her face. “I happen to like the Danielle who takes naughty pictures.”

  She hissed in a tight breath. “What happens in Vegas, should definitely stay there.”

  He gave her a brief, gentle kiss, telling himself to keep a rein on his passion. Whatever they did next, was up to her.

  “What else do you want to happen in Vegas?” he asked.

  Her shoulders relaxed. “We’re going to do it again, aren’t we?”

  He kissed his way along her shoulder. “Doing it again has my vote.”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  He smiled at that.

  “Then again, I seem to be incorrigible too.”

  “That’s a fair division of incorrigibility,” he noted.

  Her arms tightened around his neck, and her soft body melted against him. “You are an exceedingly sexy, handsome, exciting m
an.”

  “And you are the woman of my dreams.” He kissed her deeply, giving his burgeoning passion free rein and letting his hands roam.

  She moaned against his mouth, her nipples beading against his chest, heat and moisture gathering where their bodies met. Her kisses were the sweetest thing in the world. And her soft, smooth body seemed custom-designed for his.

  Once again, he let the world disappear, immersing himself in Danielle, determined this time to make their lovemaking last for hours.

  * * *

  Wrapped in a fluffy, white, hotel bathrobe and curled up in a padded lounger on Travis’s hotel suite balcony, Danielle sipped a strong cup of coffee. She was fresh from the shower, and the midmorning air was cool against her scalp.

  Travis appeared in the open doorway clutching a mug of coffee. A pair of navy sweats rode low on his hips. His chest was bare. He was now clean-shaven, and his hair was also damp. She tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help marveling at his rugged sex appeal. She’d spent half of last night and most of this morning making love with him, but she’d jump into bed again if he so much as crooked his little finger.

  There had to be something wrong with her.

  Her phone pinged and vibrated on the small, metal table next to her lounger.

  “The real world?” Travis asked, moving to the second lounger.

  “Seems like.” She smiled at him, reaching for the phone.

  He eased his body into the lounger, lifting his bare feet while the sun rays gleamed against his tanned chest.

  Gaze hopelessly glued to his sinewy body, Danielle pressed the answer button and put her phone to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Danielle. It’s Caleb.”

  “Morning, Caleb.” She met Travis’s eyes.

  “Are you up and around?”

  “I just showered,” she answered.

  Travis grinned at the way she used the truth.

  “I’m meeting Reed and Katrina for breakfast in the Garden Café. Can you join us?”

  “Of course.” She guiltily reminded herself she was supposed to be here on business.

  “Twenty minutes?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Great.” Caleb signed off.