She reached for him, drawing him down on top of her and tilting her head up in a silent invitation for another kiss.
He didn’t decline, but captured her mouth in a slow, deep exploration. Her tongue moved against his, slowly and almost tentatively.
A pang of guilt hit him again. How had he not realized how inexperienced she was? Maybe he had on a subconscious level, but he’d let the image of her that night—her confidence—in Vegas lead him to asinine assumptions.
The way she smoothed her small, soft hands over his chest drove him crazy. He flexed his hips against her and was reminded that while he was naked, she still dressed from the waist down.
Time to remedy that.
He sat up and eased her out of her jeans and the pretty lace panties, putting them on equal ground. The sight of her completely open and vulnerable robbed him on his breath.
Claire wanted him. Trusted him. And he felt so damn unworthy of that right now, and yet, for tonight he would unapologetically claim her. Make her his.
He climbed back on the bed and kissed her. Everywhere. Exploring her body and loving the cries of pleasure she made. He moved down her body, determined to taste and pleasure her everywhere.
When he settled his mouth between her legs, her surprised gasp turned into a low, throaty moan. He used the sexy sounds to guide him.
He followed the movement of her body and she rose and fell against his tongue. He became more intoxicated from the taste of her and the needy cries of pleasure she made.
“Wyatt.” She gasped, and her hips lifted off the bed as be brought her to ecstasy again.
With her still trembling, he kissed each thigh and moved back up her body. He made quick time putting on the condom, watching her watch him.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered, parting her thighs for him and touching her breast.
The gestures were so timeless, so primal, the faint thread of control he’d kept snapped.
He moved over her, settling between her legs. His erection probed at her slick entrance, and he knew she was ready. Not just physically, but by the raw need and anticipation in her eyes.
“Take me, now.” She traced his chest, tugging at the hair on it. “I’ve waited almost a year for this. Please don’t make me wait a minute long—oh!”
He thrust deep into her before she finished her sentence. The tight, wet heat of her body welcomed him and his guttural moan mingled with her surprised gasp.
“You okay, honey?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
They stayed like that for a moment. Getting used to each other. His heart raged inside his chest and the raging hunger inside him finally demanded he claim her completely.
He stroked into her. Slowly at first and then quicker. Until they found a rhythm together and their moans filled the room.
When he reached his peak, he made sure she flew with him. It was only afterward, when he had her wrapped tightly in his arms, with her buried against his chest, could he finally form a coherent thought again.
“That was incredible,” she whispered and placed a soft kiss against his chest. “I’m glad you were my first.”
He’d felt a rush of pure masculine pride at her statement, until she’d added that last bit. Her first. He didn’t want to think about anyone else making love to her down the line.
He stroked his hand down her spine.
He’d hoped maybe sleeping with her would take the edge off, but the last thing he wanted to do was see her pack up and leave tomorrow. In fact, it bugged him more now than it had earlier. Though it really shouldn’t.
This moment in time with Claire was just that. Temporary. Marietta wasn’t her hometown any more than Bozeman likely would be in a year.
She eased away from him and propped herself up on an arm, so she looked down at him. The sunlight trickled in through the window, falling on her face and the blonde curls spilling over her shoulder and hugging her breast. She looked like an angel.
She dipped her head and her soft curls brushed against his chest before her lips covered his.
His heart was thudding good and slow, and his throat was tight when she lifted her head from the sweet kiss.
“I can’t show up to dinner like this.” She gave him an impish smile. “Want to join me in the shower?”
It was kind of a no brainer. “Absolutely.”
*
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Claire hoped like hell her cheeks weren’t super red as she stood in the kitchen with Katie a half-hour later.
Katie looked up from the potatoes she was mashing, and slid a narrowed gaze over Claire. Claire knew she was seeing entirely too much. Putting it together.
It was hard not to. Claire and Wyatt had come into the house together, both with wet hair, and probably annoyingly cheerful.
“I think I’ve got just about everything set for dinner.” Katie nodded to the oven. “Maybe you could pull those biscuits out, though.”
“Sure, no problem.” Claire rushed to do it, grateful for the diversion.
She couldn’t be annoyed with Wyatt for leaving her alone with Katie, because that had been her choice. Since dinner wasn’t quite done, Wyatt had decided to go check on his horses and invited Claire along. Of course she’d felt a little guilty for not helping Katie earlier and had declined.
Only now it was just the two of them alone, and clearly Katie was biting her tongue.
“Thanks.” Katie glanced at the biscuits and then back at Claire. “Oh, also, if you don’t mind…”
“Sure, anything.”
“Great. Do you mind filling me in on where and when you first met my brother?”
So maybe Katie wasn’t biting her tongue.
Claire hesitated, her mouth gaping a little. How the hell could she answer that?
“Look, I know you guys met before. Wyatt already told me.” Katie moved back to whisk the gravy. “So you may as well fill in the rest of the details, or I’ll get them out of him eventually.”
Claire gave a slow nod and then swallowed the discomfort brewing. Maybe a few details wouldn’t hurt. She wasn’t sure she was ready to share them all.
“All right. We met in Vegas when he was there for the NFR.”
Katie dropped the whisk and spun around to face her. Her blue eyes were round in shock.
“You’re the Vegas girl?”
Oh, my God. Claire took a step back, folding her arms across her stomach. “You knew about me?”
“Wyatt was pretty tight-lipped, but he came back different. I finally got him to admit he’d met a girl in Vegas, but it hadn’t worked out.”
That was it? That was all Wyatt had said? Not that they’d been plowed with tequila, full of steak, and riding high on desire? Or that Claire had stood him up in an awful way?
“I see.” Claire swallowed. “No. Things didn’t really work out then.”
Katie nodded and her gaze turned speculative. “But they did tonight clearly.”
Damn it, if she wasn’t blushing before, then she sure as hell was now.
“Umm…”
“I’m glad, Claire. Really. You both came in here looking head over heels, and I’ve never seen Wyatt like that.” She turned back to the stove and battered and breaded a chicken leg, before gently placing it into a pan holding hot oil. “Just don’t hurt him.”
The oil spit and sizzled around the chicken, and Claire’s stomach sank. She tore her gaze from the pan, and looked back at Katie.
“It’s not my intention to hurt Wyatt.”
“Good.” Katie nodded briskly. “Because I love my big, stubborn big brother, and I’d hate to see him like he was after Vegas.” She was quiet for a moment. “You hurt him, Claire. I don’t know what happened. Why it didn’t work out. What I do know was he came back not only ornery as a riled hornet, but hurt, too. Though you’d never get him to admit it.”
Tears stung at the back of Claire’s eyes and she cleared her throat to keep them from spilling. The last thing she ever wanted to d
o was hurt Wyatt. It was one of the reasons she’d tried not to get involved with him again.
“I like you, Claire. I really do.” Katie took one chicken leg out and began to fry two more. “I just couldn’t keep quiet once you said who you were.”
Not sure how to reply, Claire knew she had to say something. Had to defend herself a little, if possible.
“I like you too, Katie. You’ve been so ridiculously kind to me. You’ve become a friend and, honestly, I don’t have very many of those right now.” So much for pride. “What happened in Vegas is complicated. A lot of things went wrong. I never meant to hurt him. I wish I hadn’t.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “But I care about Wyatt. And the last thing I’d want to see is him hurt.”
Again.
The word hung in the air between them.
“Thank you.” Katie glanced back at her again, and her expression softened. “You guys are pretty cute together, though.”
Claire couldn’t help the small smile that flitted across her face, though there was a heaviness in her heart.
“Hey, come over here and give me a hand with bringing this food out to the table.”
Claire moved to grab the plate of chicken. “This is incredible. I don’t know how you manage to cook so much and have it taste amazing.”
“Somebody had to do the cooking growing up, and it sure as heck wasn’t going to be Cal or Wyatt.” Katie moved the potatoes into a serving bowl. “Though they tried. About all they’re good for cooking wise is when they grill steak.”
Had their mom not been into cooking?
“I’ll admit, the one thing I can’t do is dessert,” Katie added as they moved into the dining room. “These boys are lucky if they get some store bought cookies.”
“Now that’s actually the one thing I can do.” Claire smiled, setting the plate of chicken down on the table. “I work at a bakery in Bozeman and picked up some tricks of the trade.”
Katie shot her a quick look. “Really? You know I forgot to buy anything at the store for dessert. A shame since we’re celebrating Wyatt’s win and all.”
“I could probably whip something up after dinner,” Claire offered hesitantly.
“That’d be great.”
“I’m assuming you have flour and sugar. Do you have chocolate chips?”
Katie gave an apologetic shrug. “No, never had any use for them.”
“Hmm. How about peanut butter?”
“Yeah, Lyle’s crazy about putting that stuff on my pancakes.” Katie scowled. “I try not to take it personally.”
“Let me make up some peanut butter cookies for dessert.”
They went back to the kitchen to grab the rest of the food for dinner. Katie glanced over at her.
“I didn’t mean to pressure you. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” She was relieved it gave her something to contribute.
The men all came into the house, talking and laughing, and Claire’s gaze sought Wyatt out immediately.
He was already looking her way and the smoldering intensity in his eyes made everything inside her molten again. Her heart slammed into her chest and her mind replayed what had happened in the cabin just over an hour ago.
From the promise in his gaze, that was just a taste of what was to come later.
Tearing her attention from him, she set the plate of biscuits down on the table and hurried back to the kitchen.
*
God help him, but no matter what Claire wore, Wyatt found her sexy as hell.
He sat at the table with Tim, Lyle, and Katie. They’d been discussing the rodeo and relaxing after dinner, when Claire came out of the kitchen holding a plate of warm cookies.
She had flour not only on the apron she wore, but also on her cheeks. Her curls were pulled up in a messy bun atop her head, and her smile was uncertain as she set the plate of treats down.
“All right, here you are. Hope you guys like them.”
The ranch hands lurched for the plate, coming back up with a cookie in each hand. Lyle had one in his mouth an instant later.
The younger man groaned and closed his eyes, mumbling something about heaven.
Less than a half-hour ago they’d all been finishing up a fried chicken dinner, and Wyatt had sworn he couldn’t eat another bite. Then to his surprise, Claire had jumped up and declared she was on dessert duty and disappeared into the kitchen. She’d refused any of the assistance everyone had offered.
And now here she was beautiful and offering fresh-baked cookies. Just about as captivating as any rodeo queen.
“These are the best cookies I’ve ever had, ma’am. Hands down,” Lyle muttered between bites.
“Agreed.” Tim reached for his third, and Katie slapped his hand.
“Slow down, Tim. Wyatt hasn’t grabbed any yet.”
“Oh, please, have as many as you’d like. I’ve got another dozen in the oven.” Claire smiled from ear to ear, looked pleased as punch with herself. Her gaze slid to Wyatt and she lifted an eyebrow. “Too full to try one?”
“Never to full to eat your cookies, honey.”
Maybe it was the endearment, or the double entendre if one was looking for it, but his ranch hands started snickering and coughing.
Claire’s face went red and her gaze took on a steely, warning for him to shut up. He grinned and lifted one warm, round cookie from the plate.
She didn’t take her eyes off him as he took a bite.
Sweet, peanut-buttery goodness. His groan of pleasure wasn’t feigned, and clearly she knew it, because her expression turned smug. The buzzer went off in the kitchen.
“I’ll go grab that next batch out of the oven.”
All eyes followed her.
Once she disappeared, Tim glanced his way. “You’d better keep her around, boss. She can bake cookies.”
“And she’s pretty,” Lyle agreed thoughtfully.
“She’s not a stray dog that you just decide to keep, boys,” he drawled, then finished off the rest of his cookie.
But he couldn’t deny the idea sounded pretty damned nice. The more he thought about tomorrow morning, the more disconcerted and irritated he became.
It was like a ticking clock. The countdown to when Claire would have her car fixed, hop in it, and drive right on out of Marietta.
The thought repeated in his head. Tomorrow. She was leaving tomorrow.
No.
The response was visceral.
Not just no, but hell, no.
He wanted to call in every favor Dillon owed him. Tell his friend to lie and keep her car a few days longer. As tempting as it was, he didn’t want to betray Claire’s trust like that when he was working so hard to earn it.
So he did the next best thing. He prayed for a miracle.
Chapter Twelve
Wyatt closed the door to the cabin, turned around, and found Claire sitting on the edge of the bed.
“So you’re staying here tonight, I hope?” Her smile was hopeful and her words husky.
“The only way I’m leaving is if you kick my sorry butt out.” His boots echoed on the wood floor as he closed the distance between them. “I didn’t know you could bake.”
“I told you I worked at a bakery.”
“I didn’t realize you did some of the baking.” He caught her hand and tugged her up, pulling her into his arms. “It was damn hard getting through that dinner when all I wanted to do was make love to you again.”
Her brows rose. “Already?”
“Honey, I’m pretty sure I’m going to want you nonstop for a while.” A thought occurred to him and he searched her face. “Unless… Did I hurt you earlier?”
She laughed and shook her head, her lashes falling. “No. I’m a little tender in all the right places, but I want to spend every last minute with you—maybe in bed—before I have to leave.”
There it was again. The big impeding reminder of her departure. His stomach clenched.
Claire looped her arms around his neck and
tilted her face up toward him. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind a little dessert after dessert.” Her lips brushed against his. “You were amazing today. A true hometown champion to Marietta. I was so proud of you.”
If he was the blushing sort, he would’ve. “Aw, thanks. There’s a few of us around, I’m not that special. We’ve got a lot of rodeo talent.”
“Oh, now you’re trying to be humble.” She slid her hand down his chest and then kept moving lower.
“Claire.” He caught her wrist, stopping her, even though he really wanted her to keep going.
“What? I’m just checking out this new buckle of yours,” she said with false innocence.
He grunted in disbelief.
She kissed him again. “You were so focused on me, last time, cowboy. Let me return the favor.”
“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not sure about.”
“I’ll let you know if I change my mind,” she said softly, her palm covering his growing hardness.
He wanted to stop her, and figured he should probably tell her no anyway. But then she took off his belt and sank to her knees in front of him. When she tugged the zipper down on his jeans, his mind went blank.
There was only the thundering of the blood resounding in his head, before her mouth was on him.
Wyatt closed his eyes, sank shaking fingers into her curls.
She never changed her mind.
*
Claire was helping Katie clean up breakfast, trying not to think about leaving later today, when her cell rang.
She set the bowl of nearly empty scrambled eggs back down on the table, and answered it.
“Uh, hello. Is this Claire?”
“This is,” she confirmed.
“Ah hello, ma’am. This is Dillon from down at Dillon’s Garage. I’m calling about your car.”
A wave of panic washed through her and her knees went weak. She’d thought she had at least the rest of the day, but it was done early? She wasn’t ready to leave. She hadn’t mentally planned on it being ready until late this afternoon.
“Oh. So it’s fixed then?” she asked numbly.
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