The Sheriff and the Mayor

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The Sheriff and the Mayor Page 4

by Starla Kaye

He seemed to double in size inside her, which, of course, wasn’t possible. Her irritation faded. “Oh, Dalton,” she purred and rocked backward. Every slap of flesh against flesh was heaven and hell.

  Her stubborn cowboy took his own sweet time picking up the pace, although she knew it cost him. She heard his groans and felt the tension in his big, powerful body behind her. At first he held her to him with strong arms around her waist, as if she might move away and stop this bliss. Then he moved his hands up to cup her breasts.

  Again, she moaned. She loved his hands on her breasts, how they massaged, how they made her skin tingle, and made her nipples harden. He plucked at them and made her even more desperate.

  “Quit playing around!” She squeezed him with her inner muscles in attempt to drive him as crazy as she was. “I need…God…I need…”

  “I know what you need, darlin’.” At last he began seriously driving back and forth, panting, holding her even tighter.

  “Ohhhh, yes!” He did know exactly what she needed. “This…you…I need you.”

  Finally she went rigid, tossed her head back and shook. She cried out as her orgasm took her past the moment, shot her into mindless oblivion.

  He held still behind her, letting her find her way back to reality. As her body sagged and her arms quivered against the wall, he began slamming into her again. She was impaled on that blessed rod, her body clenched around it.

  Amazingly, another orgasm was building. She gasped for breath, trembled, climbed once more toward that second of pure heaven.

  “I’m…oh damn…” he growled. He went wild, driving harder, deeper.

  She felt his tension, the frantic need to find release, rolling off him. Her body felt the same way, desperate, aching. She could hardly think, until Will slipped into her fading thoughts. He’d claimed she could never…

  Don’t think about him! Only about Dalton.

  Will didn’t matter anymore. Only this proud, sometimes gruff cowboy could make her feel like a real woman. He craved her body, liked to be in control. Yet he was confident enough to let her take charge at times. He gave her a sense of power that she’d never known before.

  Contentment washed over her. A sense of being safe and treasured skittered through her. Dalton held her firmly, although he controlled his strength.

  Again, her ability to think faded. Her body was ready to collapse, but she fought that urge. Dalton needed her. She needed him.

  His desperate gasps for breath matched hers. His tortured sounding groans echoed her own.

  And then he stiffened, exploded inside her, the condom capturing his life giving juices.

  Life giving juices.

  The thought of that, of them using protection now, saddened her. She might not be ready to have a family, but she knew how badly Dalton wanted it. She was letting him down. Again.

  Tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t look back at him. She couldn’t let him know how much of a failure she felt like at the moment.

  Chapter Three

  It took a couple of minutes before Dalton’s breathing returned to normal, before he could move again. His brain slowly started fully functioning. Even after his massive explosion, he was still semi-hard and reluctant to pull out of the sweet heat surrounding him. But Cassie had gone perfectly still and he sensed a change in his woman. She almost didn’t even seem to be breathing. She had been wild one second, flying high into orgasm right along with him. Now she stood silently facing away from him.

  Worried and feeling helpless, he eased out of her body.

  She still didn’t move and his concern grew. He stepped back and listened harder.

  Then he heard it. She was crying ever so softly, trying not to let him know. God a’mighty, had he hurt her?

  “Cassie?” he asked warily.

  No answer.

  His gut tightened. She’d seemed right there with him. Whatever inner pain she suffered now tore at him. The sex had been good, as always, but it hadn’t solved anything. Had it made things worse?

  He gently stroked her back. They weren’t over the problems between them. He hated this limbo. He wanted everything back to the way it had been before it had all changed again at the community party. That damn party!

  Beneath his hand, she tensed. It sickened him. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”

  She shook her head, keeping it bent over so that her mass of wet hair hid her face. She pulled in a shuddery breath before saying, “Nothing.”

  Nothing. Meaning “everything.” It annoyed the heck out of him when she got this way. How could he make things right if she didn’t tell him what was bothering her? He wasn’t a mind reader, but he sure could read body language. She’d withdrawn into herself. Hadn’t they talked about this a dozen times, more?

  Irritated now as much as he was worried, he jerked off the condom, pulled open the stall door, and stepped out to toss the rubber into the small trashcan by the toilet. When he turned around once more, she hadn’t moved even an inch. Except that he could see her shoulders trembling as she continued quietly crying.

  He hated not knowing what to do, how to help her. He rinsed off his hands and then marched right back into the shower, determined to get her to talk to him. Lowering his voice, he coaxed, “Cassie, darlin’, tell me what’s wrong.”

  Again she shook her head. “I told you, nothing.” But her voice broke with the last word.

  “I know it’s something not nothing. You only clam up on me when you’re upset.”

  She didn’t even acknowledge him, just kept her head lowered.

  “Come on, tell me.”

  “Just go away,” she muttered, sniffing back tears.

  She was hurting; he was hurting. “You can be the most stubborn woman,” he gritted out.

  Still tension filled the room.

  No doubt this wasn’t the answer, but Dalton didn’t know how else to make her pay attention to him and to get her out of this momentary mood. “Maybe if I redden that sweet ass of yours you’ll talk to me.”

  She stiffened, craned her head around but otherwise didn’t move. He saw the tears wetting her miserable face. As if in challenge, she glared at him. “Go back to your ranch.”

  “The hell I will.” He wasn’t leaving her until whatever this new problem was got dealt with. “Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.” He could be as stubborn as she was.

  To his surprise, she stomped a foot, barely missing his toes. “I don’t want to talk to you.” She glanced at his semi-erect shaft. “You came, you conquered, and you got off. Great. Now go back to your ranch.”

  He gaped at her. It had been a while since she’d been in this pissy of a mood. The last thread of his patience snapped. “You need a butt burning.”

  Her chin tipped up. “Do not. I just need you to leave.” But she didn’t try to shove him out of the shower stall. And she wasn’t crying anymore. She seemed to be waiting for him to make the next move.

  He decided to take it as a sign. She was all mixed up for some reason and needed him to straighten her out, although she sure wasn’t going to tell him that. But he understood her. He’d damn well do anything for her, including heating up her ass.

  She still didn’t move.

  Resigned to what he had to do, he stepped to her left side.

  Her eyes met his, wary, yet accepting.

  Drawing in a breath, he put a hand to the middle of her back and raised his other hand so she could see what was coming. “Unless you want to watch me spanking your ass, look away.”

  “I don’t want you to do this.” But her tone told a different story.

  “I’m thinking you do.” He didn’t really want to do it, but she seemed determined not to tell him what was bothering her. She was messing with both of their heads. Giving her a sore butt tended to end these crazy stubborn moments she had every once in a while.

  Her pretty little buns quivered. A hint of spirit returned and she protested “You’re going all man-in-charge just because I don’t wan
t to talk to you. That’s so wrong.”

  “Not ‘man-in-charge,’ darlin’.” He brought his hand down smartly on her right cheek and she gasped. “I’m the man who loves you, enough to do this when needed.”

  She finally looked away. “Why can’t you leave it be? Just go back to your ranch.” Still, she stayed in place.

  His hand connected with her bottom again and the sound echoed around the room. He noted the handprint on her creamy flesh, knew there would be more. “Because you don’t really want me to go.”

  This time she didn’t disagree with him and some of his anxiety eased. “Sometimes you just need this.”

  “Do not.” But her protest was weak.

  Dalton swatted her pretty little buns again. He’d much rather be in her bed, feeling those warm cheeks as he drove into her from behind.

  “Dalton,” she began and grew quiet once more.

  “What?” He held his hand against her bottom. His cock pulsed and he struggled to steer his thoughts away from sex, back to what was happening.

  “Never mind.”

  Frustrated again at her refusing to talk to him, he sent a pair of smacks down that had her dancing on her toes.

  With a yelp, she reached back to rub at the sting.

  “You know better than that.”

  “That hurt,” she pouted, but moved her hand back to the tiled wall.

  “It’s only going to get worse unless you—”

  “Just do it if you think you have to!”

  Obligingly he sent a brisk half dozen swats to her clenching and unclenching cheeks.

  She hissed and arched forward. “Aren’t you done yet?”

  He rubbed the red spots on her ass, lightly. “Ready to talk?”

  Instead of answering him, she settled into place again.

  “Why are you being so stubborn?” he growled and swatted her butt again harder than he’d intended.

  She yelped and glowered at him. “No one is more stubborn than you, cowboy.”

  “We’re a good match when it comes to that, I guess.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and looked away again. Her refusing to admit they were a good match rubbed him wrong. They were. She knew it, too. Damn it!

  “Duck your head; I’m turning on the water for a second.” He reached around her for the faucet handle.

  “No,” she protested, but ducked her head just before the brief spray came down on them both. As he turned the water off again, she glanced at him, pleading in her gaze. “Not on a wet bottom. That stings so much.”

  They’d done this another time in the shower when she’d gotten all snippy. She’d yelped like crazy. But he was tired of trying to get through her stubborn streak, decided to up the spanking a notch. He raised his hand and her eyes widened before she quickly looked away again.

  “Maybe this will end your mood.” He sent a pair of blistering down to each wiggling, wet cheek.

  “Owwww!” she screeched, bouncing up on her toes. “Dalton, please. No!”

  She still hadn’t said anything about actually talking to him. Grimly, he held her in position and whacked away on her quickly reddening butt. He ignored her dancing around, her squirming to try and avoid his hand. He tuned out her cries. He knew in his gut that his lady needed this. Sometimes only a sound spanking was the only way he could get her out of a blue funk. She had a way of holding things inside until they all but ate her up. He had a feeling that was what was happening today. And it probably had to do with the way he’d told her stay in town this weekend.

  So he was partially responsible for this spanking session, too. The realization made him sick. He released her and waited uncertainly, holding his breath, praying he hadn’t gone too far.

  To his relief, she spun around and threw herself into his embrace. Sniffling back tears, she cried, “I’m sorry, Dalton. I’m so sorry.”

  He held her close, absorbed her trembling, felt her misery and knew it had nothing to do with the spanking he’d given her. He gently put his hands on her hot butt, which immediately made him press his rock hard body against her. He couldn’t help it, even as wrong as that was.

  “I-I can’t, Dalton,” she mumbled against his chest.

  “Oh, darlin’, it’s okay,” he said, although he wanted nothing more than to lay her down and drive into her. He was man enough to control his urges. “I know you don’t want—”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Not that, you crazy man. Sore bottom or not, I want you inside me.” For proof, she rubbed against him.

  She was confusing the hell out of him. Before he lost all sense, he asked, “Then what did you mean? You can’t what?”

  Her beautiful eyes misted over with fresh tears. “I can’t…I can’t give you children.” She swallowed hard. “At least not now.” A tear slid down one cheek. “Please don’t give up on me.”

  Dalton’s vision blurred and he squeezed her so hard she squeaked. “Never. I’m not giving up on us.”

  He felt her shiver of relief and eased up on his hold. “Was that what you were stressed about? What was making you irrational?”

  She bobbed her head and focused on his chest. “I know how badly you want to start a family.” She trembled again. “I hate letting you down, but I just seem to do it over and over again.”

  He kissed the top of her head and then said, “There are more condoms in the drawer.” He was a man and he could only think of one way to settle matters with the woman he loved. “I mean if…”

  Feeling foolish now, he let her go and pulled open the shower door, started to walk out. “Damn, I’m sorry. Forget I said that.”

  But she followed right after him and grabbed his hand to pull him with her into the bedroom. She gave him a hesitant look as she neared the bed. “How about kissing away my ouchies first?”

  He grinned and scooped her up to toss her on the bed. “Be glad to this time, sweetheart.”

  ***

  Cassie made ham and cheese sandwiches for them both, making Dalton’s twice as thick as hers. Her man worked hard and burned a lot of calories. She smiled at that thought. He’d certainly “worked hard” ever since he’d shown up earlier and surprised her in the shower. She tingled all over at the memory. Oh, yes, he could be so good sometimes.

  She felt his gaze on her and was pretty sure what he was looking at. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Are you staring at my bottom?” He’d probably been watching her the entire time she’d been making the sandwiches. Not that she minded really. After the way her ex had constantly told her she was “getting pudgy” or that “maybe you should go on Jennie Craig’s diet,” to have a man actually like looking at her was a heady thing.

  “Hell, yes. It’s the prettiest little ass I’ve ever seen.” He got up to help her with the plates, grinning and winking at her. “It sure pleases me when you go around half-dressed like this. ‘Course, completely naked is even better.”

  She rolled her eyes and walked past him to the table in the kitchen alcove. He’d given her a real workout, twice. The first round in the shower had been fast and wild. Round two, when he was determined to smooth things over after he’d spanked her, had started out nice and gentle. He’d ended up going every bit as wild. She was kind of sore, not that she minded. Sex with her cowboy was always worth it. Still, between the hot sex and a tender bottom, she’d decided to only wear his shirt. And she knew he liked when she did that. She hadn’t even put on panties, which he also liked. Too bad he wasn’t naked because she sure liked that.

  “I like you half-dressed, too…but naked is even better.” Yet he looked pretty sexy in well-worn jeans that hugged his body real nice.

  They sat down at the same time, although she winced and settled more gingerly than he did. As he glanced in her direction, she said in chastisement, “You didn’t have to add those few spanks at the end.”

  He gave her a sheepish look and picked up his sandwich. “Darlin’, it was just too much to resist.”

  With a sigh, she took
a bite. Her cowboy gave a sound spanking when he was disciplining her for whatever reason, but he also liked to give her bottom a smack or two sometimes “just because.” Mainly because he liked the sight of his pink handprint on her creamy bottom, or so he’d said once. Those swats were never hard and she really didn’t mind. But when they were given after she’d already been spanked, they brought back some of the sting.

  Moving past that, she asked, “Are you going back to the ranch?” She didn’t want him to go; yet she did. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she wanted today.

  He hesitated, looking torn. “I’d rather stay here with you. Keep you in bed the rest of the weekend.” His shoulders slumped slightly. “But I should be pulling my weight with the chores. Especially considering that Parker will be covering for me on Wednesday.”

  Wednesday? Oh, Wednesday! She inwardly groaned. Now she remembered the commitment she’d worried about earlier when she’d talked with Rachel. “About that…” she began quietly.

  As if he hadn’t heard her, he said, “We’ll leave around seven. That’ll still give us time to get to Kansas City and have a good long day.” He gave her a regret filled smile. “Wish I could swing the night, too, but Parker will have to get back to the ranch.”

  She studied her sandwich, trying to decide how to tell him her problem. First she’d let him down by changing her mind about running for mayor another term. Now she was going back on her word to spend a day with him. A day they both desperately needed. But Rachel needed her, too.

  He must have finally sensed something was wrong because he asked curiously, “What’s up?”

  She pulled in an anxious breath and met him eye-to-eye. “I…um…Rachel…”

  A furrow appeared between his thick eyebrows. “Rachel what?”

  Just spit it out! Her stomach fluttered with distress. “She asked me to help her with the picnic committee.”

  He frowned, clearly understanding that would take up even more of her time. “Cassie—”

  “Please don’t be mad at me,” she pleaded. “She’s my friend and needs my help. You know how intractable those old ladies can be. She thinks maybe I can help get them to agree to try something new.”

 

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