by Karen Anders
“I... I was a rodeo rider. A damn good one. I was...at the top, winning just about every rodeo for about ten years. Then I drew Widowmaker.”
Widowmaker. The blood seemed to stop flowing in her veins. A cold icy dread filled her. She knew about Widowmaker. He was one of the meanest, orneriest bulls to ever hit the circuit. “I heard they were going to remove him from the circuit.”
“They haven’t. Anyway, I drew him. I’ve ridden him before to the buzzer, except this time... my hand slipped. He moved to the left unexpectedly and I found myself eating dirt.” His eyes dropped to the table and he refused to look at her.
“And... what happened?”
“At first I was dazed from the wild dizzying ride. I expected the rodeo clown to take care of the bull, but he didn’t. Widowmaker just ignored him. He came after me instead.”
“Oh my God!”
“I scrambled out of the way. He charged and caught me along the ribs. It was just a scratch, but then he whirled and stood there pushing up dirt with his foreleg. I think everyone in that arena stopped breathing the silence was so absolute, like the calm before the storm. It was surreal, like something out of a movie. I didn’t know what to do. I knew if I ran he would catch me before I could make it to the fence. The clown tried to get the bull’s attention off me, but Widowmaker was focused on me. It was almost as if he wanted me and only me. He charged again and I barely managed to get out of the way. He gored me...in the hip so close to my... groin. Anyway, he tossed me up in the air like I was a rag doll. The clown opened the gate and he finally went through. I ended up in the hospital.”
“And what else?”
“You want it all, don’t you?”
“I want to know what you’re running from.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“I break out in a cold sweat even thinking about the rodeo. It’s not an option anymore.”
“Bull riding is not the only competition.”
“I can’t even be in the ring again without losing it, Jennifer. The first few times I tried bronc riding. I fell off because I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t find my rhythm. Something happened to me. I lost something that I can’t get back.” He was shocked that he was telling her this shameful story that he had never told anyone. “I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly.
“Corey, please don’t. Stay and tell me more.”
She got up and came around the table, unable to stand the pain and fear on his face. She put her arms around him and he closed his eyes, pressing his face into the hollow between her breasts. She knew that in that arena, in front of all those people he’d lost himself. His pride, his sense of worth. He’d lost his nerve. But she felt that there was something else driving him besides the loss of his pride. Something she wasn’t even sure he was aware of. It was, she was certain, a temporary thing if only he could stop long enough to face his fear.
He struggled out of her hold and stood up, readying himself to leave. “I haven’t got anything to give you.”
Her eyes searched his deeply before she looked down, following the smooth, lean, muscular line of his body all the way to his groin where evidence of his arousal pressed solidly against his jeans. Her gaze lingered there. “Looks like you have more than enough.”
His groan was deep and long as his head dropped back. “You do know how to play with fire, but even a woman with backbone and sass can still get burned.”
He dropped back into the chair and leaned his elbows on the table, letting his head fall forward. A black silky curtain of hair covered his ravaged face.
Tenderness and the need to console him rose in her. She leaned forward, bracing herself on the edge of the chair. The nape of his neck was partially exposed and she brushed the rest of the black silky hair away and placed her mouth on his sensitive skin. He smelled so good, male, musky. A heady virile scent that made her dizzy.
He moaned softly and twisted his head and Jennifer suspected he was going to tell her to stop.
But she didn’t stop. Her tongue came out and flicked against his hot skin like a lick of flame, and with a growl deep in his throat, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her across his lap.
She protested with a soft sound of objection. She wanted to taste his salty skin again. She craved him like some women craved chocolate. An all-encompassing need for which there was no substitute.
The fierceness with which his mouth claimed hers took Jennifer’s breath away and quieted her complaint. His mouth and lips were a different taste altogether. It was a wild, savage kiss, telling of a man who’d been alone for all his life. A man who desperately needed her. She felt consumed, overpowered, safe.
“Ellie?” he whispered against her mouth.
“She’s sleeping,” she whispered back. He wasn’t going to pull away this time. She was primed for him, had been primed for a long time.
“Ah, hell.” He pulled away from her and sat up.
“Corey?”
“I don’t...damn...I don’t have any protection.”
Jennifer swallowed hard, gathering her courage. “I do.”
He looked at her then. The shock on his face would have made her laugh if she dared.
“What did you say?”
“I bought...some...a little while ago. I thought I was getting serious with this one man, but he was just interested in my assets.”
Corey laughed softly and leaned his head on her shoulder. “Jennifer, I’m interested in your assets, too.”
“Yeah, but you’re interested in getting into my jeans and I’m interested in letting you.”
“Where is it?”
“What?”
His laughter sputtered again. “The protection.”
“Oh.” She laughed, the humor diffusing her tension. “Upstairs in my bedroom.”
He rose in one powerful push of his thighs, cradling her in his arms. “Well, want to go get it?”
“Yes.” She licked her lips. “I want to get it real bad.”
He climbed the stairs effortlessly and walked into her room. He dropped her onto the bed and looked down at her. “I can’t sleep because I want you. I have a hard time working knowing you’re in this house. Every time you come near me I get hard.”
“Corey,” she breathed, excited beyond words, aching to join with this lonely, stubborn man. “Then don’t wait another minute. Why don’t you get rid of your clothes first?”
“That’s what I like. A woman who speaks her mind.” He leaned down, placing both hands on either side of her shoulders and without preamble took her mouth in a searing brand of heated flesh, burning his delicious taste and compelling scent into her senses until her world was filled with him, until it encompassed only him. She reached up, sliding her hands into the hot silk of his hair, tangling around the smooth strands.
He moved his mouth from hers, and his turquoise eyes burned with a seductive smoldering desire that spoke volumes. He searched her eyes. “Say you want me, Jennifer. Tell me, darlin’.” His voice was a raw whisper edged with a need that vibrated in the still room, vibrated through her, making her skin hum, her flesh burn, her heart melt like molten gold.
She had never even had a chance.
With all honesty her voice hushed out, “I want you, Corey. I fought it, but it was too much for me.”
He sighed. “Ah, Jennifer,” he said, lowering his mouth to the soft skin of her neck and nuzzling her gently. “I know. God, how I know. It’s like trying to shoulder a mountain.”
“Speaking of shoulders, I’d like to see yours. Now.”
“Pushy little thing, aren’t you?”
“When I’m after something I want very desperately, yes.”
He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt much too slowly for her. Unable to wait another minute, wanting to touch him with a fierce longing, she rose onto her knees and grabbed the shirt, slapping his hands out of the way. She unbuttoned the material, soft and worn against her fumbling fingers. Finally, the garment
fell open and she eagerly grasped the edges, pulling the fabric away from his chest and pushing it off his shoulders to land on the carpet.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “You are as beautiful as I remembered.” She placed her palms flat on his chest, testing his muscles, running her palms over his smooth warm skin, over his nipples, rubbing a little harder when he groaned, the flat disks pebbling under her ministrations.
“You’re so sensitive.”
He opened heavy-lidded eyes to peer at her. “I thought women liked sensitive men.” He gave her a slow, knee-melting smile.
“Oh, we do. We do.” She responded by leaning forward and flicking her tongue across one nipple. His hands came up to cup her head just as her mouth closed over the hard peak.
He trembled and jerked. She could feel his reaction against her mouth and in his hands where they rested in her hair, against her scalp. The rush of power and feeling came all at once, almost too much for her to bear. The soft, surrendering groan made her need burn hotter. This strong, brave man trembled because her mouth was on him. That thought and his reaction made her weak and warm.
As she drew lazy circles around his puckered flesh, his breathing grew harsher, his muscles flexing beneath her hands where they were braced against his arms.
Before she could even begin to get her fill, he jerked her head away. His eyes were glazed with desire, his face stark and hard, the passion for her etched deeply in his expression. His eyes bored hotly into hers and she got a glimpse of the wildness in him.
She saw something else there, as well. She saw his fear, real, so very real, burning with the desire. He closed his eyes briefly as if he was in great pain.
“Corey,” she said fiercely, raising to her knees so that she was level with him. “Just one night. I understand. You’re leaving in the morning. I’ll drive you to the bus depot. Don’t think about it now. Don’t let it intrude on the time we have together. Please.”
He tilted her head up. His eyes traveled over every inch of her face as though if he looked long enough, hard, enough, he could burn her visage into his brain. He swallowed and leaned close, so close his mouth was almost touching hers. “Tell me one more time. Tell me you’re sure about this. God, Jennifer, don’t let me hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m a bastard. I still want you. I don’t give a damn about anything else.”
She touched his face softly, gently, and slowly he sank to the bed, wrapping her in his arms.
“Yes, you care or you wouldn’t ask me again. I’m sure, Corey. I’ve never been surer. You’re not a bastard, just a bad boy and you understand. Bad boys always understood me, but you, your insight is astounding. You were right. I’m a wild reckless woman inside wanting to get out... wanting—”
His mouth cut off her words, sucking her into a vortex of pure feeling and touching. Their clothes disappeared without conscious thought. He took his time touching her everywhere, claiming her as his and his alone.
Pushing her onto her back he whispered, “Where’s the protection, darlin’?”
She looked up at him with unfocused eyes.
“Jennifer...?”
She blinked as if coming out of a dream. He smiled seductively at her expression and she smiled back a little sheepishly. “Oh, in...the drawer by the bedside.”
He found what he needed and took no time slipping the sheath on. And then he entered her, his lips parting on her name.
His baby-soft whisper rang in Jennifer’s ears like a shrill whistle. Her own cry of pleasure mingled with the sound of her name as he slid into her.
He cupped her face and stared down into her eyes. “I want you to know that this is no one-night stand. I want you to know that this means a great deal to me. Shh,” he said when he saw her get ready to speak. “Don’t talk. Don’t ask me for promises and I won’t have to break any. Just know that I’ll never forget you.”
She closed her eyes, trying to think around the excruciating pleasure that was running in intense waves through her body. But the thoughts whirled away and the words remained. Later, when she was coherent, she would sort through them. Take them out like shiny pieces of glittering glass to look at and savor the beauty.
She sighed softly. This was what she wanted. And as she knew when she’d made the decision to take what she wanted, she knew the aching pain of letting him go.
But tonight was hers.
Holding him here would be wrong. It would be like holding a wild animal that was trying desperately to find freedom. Corey was tortured and unwilling to tell her why. As much as she wanted him to stay, she wanted him to make that decision himself.
He moved then, slowly, by degrees, and every thought fractured and spun away. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow. Just now, just this man, just Corey.
She felt as if she were trying to breathe in a sauna, the air was so thick with sensuality and the heat of their passion. It had never been like this. She hadn’t had much to compare lovemaking to, but she knew deep down that it would never be like this with anyone else. “Only you, Corey,” she murmured, her voice filling with a sob from the sheer intensity of their joining.
“God, Jennifer, you’re so damn beautiful. Touch me, darlin’,” he whispered.
Jennifer was almost unconscious from the intense pleasure that rocketed through her each time he glided into her, holding her breath so that she wouldn’t miss a minute, finding each delicious sensation even better than the last. She clutched at him, molding her hands over strong and muscled flesh. His slow deep thrusts were torturous, bringing her closer and closer to peaking splendor only to withdraw and intensify the next wave of pleasure.
She moved with him in the slow dance of the ages as if she were irrevocably mated with him, reunited from some time long past, sweet perfect searing rhythm, the pleasure beyond her comprehension. Surely this kind of bliss could only exist in heaven. How lovely to find a small piece on earth in this man’s arms.
He slipped his forearm under her hips and lifted her so that he was deeper inside her. He slowed his thrusts even more and with her hands she urged him faster.
“Come on, pretty darlin’, let go.”
She tensed, the need in her coiling tighter.
“Stop...moving...so slow. Please, Corey, have mercy. It’s been...so...long.”
“Not until you give me what I want.” Sweat poured off his body with the intense concentration that it required not to lose command of himself. He was close to breaking, his control hanging by a thread. He thrust slowly, his whole body taut with the devastating need inside him.
“Corey, please. Harder, faster.”
He leaned down and took her lips, pushing himself as deep as he could go, rocking slightly. A flash of exquisite sensation shattered through her, and she cried out, “Corey, you’re so bad.”
His body jerked as she spasmed around him and he whispered on the quiet air, “Bad, yeah, so bad.”
He rolled to his side pulling her against his chest and she nestled against him. It felt so right.
“You’re leaving tomorrow?” she finally asked.
“Yes.” He lifted himself onto his elbow and looked down into her flushed face. He pushed a wisp of hair off her forehead and leaned down to kiss her lips. “I can’t accept a job with you.”
“Why?”
“Because, Jennifer, I’m not ready to commit or settle down.” He seemed to know those words would hurt her, but they were the ones she expected to hear. He sighed when the disappointment clouded her eyes and she closed them briefly as if to keep back tears. “You’re sorry, Jen darlin’?”
She reached up and pulled his head down, cupping the back of his head, kissing him with warmth and tenderness. When the kiss ended, she smiled at him. “No. I’m not sorry. I’ll never be sorry. It’s what I wanted.”
He eased away from her, slipping out of bed. “Where are you going?” she said, her words laced with uneasiness.
“To the bathroom. Any objections?” His mouth quirked with amusement.
&
nbsp; She watched him walk across the floor and disappear into the bathroom. He moved beautifully, with a graceful prowling stride. A loose-hipped swagger with no self-consciousness at all. The man had more sex appeal in his little finger than most men had in their whole bodies.
How was she ever going to let him go?
He came back to bed and stretched out alongside her. Gently he reached out and drew the covers away from her body. “Beautiful,” he breathed, gazing at her breasts. His dark head bent and he took a suddenly puckering bud into his mouth.
She cried out his name in wonder and delight, her hand caressing the back of his neck.
He pushed her back and she couldn’t believe it when she felt the hard heat of his arousal against her thigh. “Corey? Already?”
His head lifted, that savage heat in his hot turquoise eyes. “I’m always ready for you, darlin’. I hurt for you, Jennifer.”
Her skin grew damp everywhere and tingled. Her heart tripped into a faster beat.
“I’m hurting, Jenny,” he said again. His mouth hovered over hers, then dipped down to rain her with little biting kisses.
She ran her hand down his taut abdomen until she reached the hardest part of his body. The part that made him so intriguingly male. “Is this where you’re hurting?”
He growled deep in his throat as she stroked him. “Thank God we have all night,” he managed to say, his breath ragged, his words hoarse. “I just might get enough of you.”
He kissed her feverishly then fumbled for protection with trembling hands. And when he entered her with force and need, his raspy voice close to her ear, he said, “But I doubt it.”
The sun was hot, too hot on his skin, the sand of the ring beneath his bare feet grainy and burning. The absence of sound was deafening and he raised his head suddenly, the instinctive fear clutching around his heart. He came face-to-face with the pitch-black bull, his eyes red glowing embers of hatred His father stood next to the animal, feeding him fire with his bare hands. Corey swallowed, his throat dry with terror. The sun beat down on his bare skin and he looked down to find himself naked and vulnerable. He wanted to cover himself and cower, but he knew if he did he would die. Death breathed down the back of his neck, trickled over his skin, brushed cold fingers down his spine.