by Merry Farmer
“So I guess we...” He took a step away, then another, then turned.
“No,” she called out, heart nearly leaping up through her throat. “No, Travis, no.”
He pivoted toward her, and in two steps he was so close that she could feel the heat of his body. “No?”
She shook her head, terrified that she would burst into tears at any moment. “No, calling off our marriage is not what I want. It’s the last thing that I want,” she burst, not caring who might overhear them in the public hallway.
Travis drew in a breath. The sadness in his expression melted into something far more powerful and heated. He raised his hands to cup both sides of her face, then leaned toward her to capture her lips in a kiss of such passion that it left her dizzy. It was no quick peck either. His mouth encompassed hers, drawing her toward him body and soul. He teased her lips with his tongue, and when she opened to him, he slipped inside to explore more deeply. The heat and intimacy of his kiss tipped her off-balance and made her want to disappear into him.
Behind them the click of a door opening was followed by a man’s surprised grunt and, “Oh, dear me. I’m so sorry.”
Wendy gasped, and Travis stepped back, though his hands remained on Wendy’s face.
“Sorry, sir.” He nodded to the man standing in his doorway a few yards away. “My wife and I were just…” He didn’t finish. Instead, he reached for the handle of Wendy’s door.
Wendy giggled at the absurdity of the situation. Her door was locked, and she had to fumble for the key in her pocket before she and Travis could escape the censure of the other hotel guest. As soon as she turned the key, Travis pushed the door open, then drew her inside, shutting the door behind her, a little too forcefully.
“That was—”
She didn’t have a chance to say how awkward being caught was. Travis swept up to her, closing his arms around her and kissing her again with double the passion from the hallway. His hands pressed into her back, bringing her flush against him, as he nibbled at her lips, traced his tongue along hers.
More than a week’s worth of holding everything inside, telling herself she barely knew this man and her desire was inappropriate, fell to pieces. She circled her arms around Travis’s strong back, digging her fingertips into his solid muscles. Reason and sense and every logical argument of why the two of them would never work flew from her mind. The only thing she cared about was that this man was her husband and that she wanted him to be in every way.
“I don’t want to call it off either,” Travis panted. His hands reached for the buttons at the back of her bodice. “I want everything that is the opposite of calling it off.”
“Me too,” Wendy panted, tugging his shirt from the waist of his trousers.
“I don’t care what anyone else things, and I don’t care if I have to walk five miles in a blizzard every day, I want you.”
All she could manage was a passionate moan of agreement as his mouth recaptured hers. His fingers worked at the buttons down her back, fumbling them rather than opening them. He tensed, an impatient growl escaping from him, before his patience ran out. He grabbed hold of the fabric and pulled. Wendy gasped as her bodice burst free. The sound of buttons hitting the floor all around her was the most erotic thing she’d ever heard. A tiny voice in the back of her mind lamented the damage to her dress, but she was a seamstress; she could fix it.
With redoubled passion, she pushed the suspenders from Travis’s shoulders and went to work on his buttons. Between kisses that grew more fleeting and comical the more furiously they worked to undress each other, he pushed her bodice off of her shoulders, slipped the sleeves from her arms. A giggle formed deep in her throat as she pushed his shirt back from his shoulders only to encounter his undershirt. Travis had circled his arms around her in an attempt to loosen her skirt, but his fingers were lost in the fabric of the bustle.
“How do these things work?” He gave up with a laugh, grasping Wendy’s waist and turning her to the side.
“Hooks, ties, all sorts of things,” she answered through her own giggles. “You’d better let me do it.”
“Right.” He took a step back and tugged his shirt up over his head. “I’ll meet you in there.” He nodded to the bed.
A zip of wild energy shot up Wendy’s spine as he pulled his undershirt off. His chest was every bit as broad and muscled as she’d imagined it would be. His arms and chest were those of a man who was used to manual labor. She had felt their power as he embraced her, but now she wanted to run her hands along the line of his shoulders, the plain of his abdomen. A dusting of hair spread across his chest, and his dark nipples stood out in contrast to his light skin. She only had time to contemplate the line of hair running down below the waist of his trousers for a moment before he unfastened those trousers and let them drop.
The tall, proud length of his manhood leapt up from its confinement as he pushed his trousers down and stepped out of them and his boots. Wendy caught her breath. He was powerful and majestic and aroused. She knew about anatomy from her few forays into menswear, but to see a man’s organ so engorged and excited, knowing she was the cause and the focus of that arousal, sent a delicious ache pulsing between her legs. That ache increased when Travis straightened with a wicked grin teasing his lips.
“Like what you see?” he asked, eyes blazing with desire.
Wendy blinked. Her hands were still motionless behind her at the clasp of her skirt. A tickle of laughter and desire spread through her. His raw, sensual beauty had stunned her into motionlessness.
“Yes, I do,” she answered at last, working furiously at her skirt’s closures. She loosened them and was able to step out of her dress, but not fast enough for her body’s urgings.
Travis’s expression twitched, and with just a hint of reticence he asked, “Ever seen one before?”
Wendy shook her head as she worked the clasps of her corset. “Not like that.”
Travis’s grin returned. “Good.”
He took himself in hand and stroked. Wendy caught her breath, arms dropping to her sides as she finished with her corset and let it drop. Her whole body flushed with heat as she watched him handle himself. It was a revelation. Judging by the passionate fire in Travis’s eyes, it gave him pleasure. She was seized with the urge to touch him herself, to mimic the motions he was using and more. Perhaps that was the point. He was subtly teaching her what to do.
That thought too fled from her mind as she wriggled out of her chemise and drawers and stockings. She paused for only a moment to stand naked in front of him before stepping over the pile of her clothes and into his arms. The shock of skin against skin—heat and strength and urgency—pushed the air right out of Wendy’s lungs. Travis’s arms closed around her and one of his hands reached to squeeze her backside. That combined with the pressure of his staff pressed between them and her breasts flush with his muscle left her sighing aloud.
His lips sought out hers as his other hand cupped one of her breasts from the side. All of it was a beautiful wonder. She opened to him, taking as much as he did as she slid her tongue against his to explore his mouth. Instinct guided her in spite of her lack of experience. She didn’t need to know what she was doing to know what she wanted, and right then, what she wanted was for the touching to continue, to deepen.
“Weren’t we supposed to meet in bed?” Travis asked, panting, as his hands continued their exploration.
“Since when have we done anything the way it’s been planned?” she half-laughed, half-mewled.
His answering laughter reverberated through his chest, shaking her and sending her senses soaring. “We always manage to get things done in the end.”
He shifted to lift her. Wendy wrapped her legs around his waist on instinct, then gasped at the burst of friction in her most sensitive spot as his staff rubbed against her. A wavering, needy cry escaped from her as he pivoted and walked with her around the corner of the bed. Each step rubbed him against her, to the point where she needed desper
ately to rub back. The movement was so close to being perfect, and so far from it at the same time.
Travis reached the side of the bed and climbed on top of it with her. They stretched out perpendicular to how a bed was meant to be used, but neither of them cared. Wendy reached for Travis, caressing his face and threading her fingers in his hair to pull him down for another kiss. Their mouths met in a hungry dance of tongues and lips. The cool swirl of air that brushed against her skin formed a heady contrast with the heat of Travis’s body. He balanced above her with one arm braced against the bed. His other hand caressed her full breast, squeezing and molding while his thumb raked across her nipple. She still had her hips open, her legs wrapped around his waist, and he teased her by grinding against her, his length hot and hard as it stroked a part of her that felt as if it might burst.
“Travis,” she panted. “I want you. I want all of you.”
“And I want you,” he echoed.
But rather than taking her, he kissed his way down the line of her neck and across her collarbone until his mouth and tongue mirrored the ministrations of his hand on her breast. He kissed the swell of her breast, then closed his mouth over her nipple, flicking it with his tongue and sucking. Wendy moaned with the pleasure he brought out in her, arching up to him. Her fingers curled in his hair, their tips pressing into his scalp. She wanted more, so much more, but she wanted to give him pleasure as well.
“You’re so beautiful,” Travis whispered, switching to suckle her other breast. “So sensual.”
She could only moan and writhe in response, letting her body take over. It was almost as if she knew what to do, how to respond to him. The coil of propriety, every ounce of sophistication and pride she’d put on to present a strong front over the years, slipped and unwound, leaving her with the desire to be wanton in every way for her husband.
Travis kissed his way down from her breast to her stomach, but as he did, he circled both hands around her breasts, then lightly pinched both nipples at once. The tiny mix of fleeting pain with pleasure nearly brought Wendy off the bed and left her crying out with passion. Travis answered with a growl of approval that vibrated against her abdomen as he raked his lips lower and lower.
She didn’t fully realize the position she was in until Travis raked his hands down her sides and gripped her thighs, holding them wide apart. She was completely exposed to him as he knelt on the floor between her open legs. A split second of self-consciousness filled her before he reached to tease the most sensitive part of her apart with his fingertips.
“Travis—”
She didn’t have time for anything else before his mouth closed over the part of her that was on fire for him. She gripped the bedcovers and arched off the bed as his tongue grazed across the sensitive nub of her desire. Her mind reeled, but before it could balk at the extreme intimacy of her husband’s actions, fierce desire shut down all thought. She panted with pleasure as his tongue continued to tease her. Nothing had ever felt so good. Her entire being flared to life, stretching, reaching, aching for fulfillment.
He shifted just enough to slide his hand along the pulsing, wet entrance to her womanhood while his mouth continued its work. Wendy wasn’t sure if her eyes were open or closed as he teased first one and then two fingers inside of her. Her panting turned to moaning as the pressure inside of her built and built at his invasion, loving it, but wanting more. And then, as he worked his fingers in and out of her, the dam burst.
With a gasp and a sigh, she was sucked under by a wave of pleasure so intense all she could do was feel. It pulsed through her like a sunburst in her core, reaching through to her fingers and toes.
“Yes,” Travis whispered, rising up over her again. He kissed her stomach, breasts, collar, neck, and finally her lips as he covered her. “Yes, my love.”
This time, he didn’t stop to tease or rub against her. Wendy had only a moment’s warning, the pressure of the tip of his penis against her still shuddering opening, before he thrust into her. Her body was still throbbing with pleasure, and if there was a moment of pain—as she’d always been told to expect—she didn’t notice it. All she could feel was the shattering pleasure of her husband filling her. The fullness of him inside of her was so incredible that she cried out with each of his thrusts, her head tilted back.
She clasped him to her with both her arms and legs, digging her fingertips into his back as his thrusts grew more urgent. It felt so good to be there for him this way, to hold him as he found his pleasure in her and to take her own pleasure from him, that tears stung her eyes. None of the problems or challenges they faced meant a thing. They belonged to each other. They belonged together.
At last, Travis’s thrusts and cries grew pitched, and his whole body tensed. He let out a desperate growl, then slowly began to relax. Wendy held him as his body loosened, his thrusts slowed to a stop, and a glow of contentment enveloped both of them. He lost all energy, and for a moment he stopped entirely, still inside of her. He was hot, heavy, and panting, but nothing had ever felt so right in Wendy’s entire life. She lay there with her husband in her arms, stroking his back and running her fingers through his hair.
It took a while for Travis to muster the energy to move, and even longer for him to speak. They managed to find their way between the sheets the right way around. Travis lay on his back, and Wendy curled herself around him, her leg draped over his and her arm across his chest as she nuzzled his shoulder. She hadn’t known contentment could run quite so deep.
Until Travis gasped.
“What?” She tensed, holding him closer.
A moment later, he dissolved into laughter. “We were supposed to go back down to the ballroom to sew at six-thirty.”
Wendy blinked, her passion-sated mind catching up. She laughed. “We could still go?”
Travis made a noise, and rolled her to her back under the sheets. “Or we could not.”
She circled her arms around his neck, letting out a breath and writhing under him. “Or we could not.”
Travis kissed her, long and lingering. The faintest hint of tension took over from his sated amusement. “We’ll make this work,” he murmured.
“Hmm?” As far as Wendy was concerned, there was nothing in the world besides the two of them there in bed.
“Whatever it takes,” Travis went on. “Whatever it means. We will make this marriage work.”
Wendy pressed a smile into the salty warmth of his shoulder. “I know we will, my love. How could we not?”
Chapter Ten
Sunday morning dawned over Haskell with as much excitement as if it were Christmas. The ladies of Haskell lined up in the lobby of The Cattleman Hotel first thing, ready to don their dresses for a final fitting and to wear to church. The buzz of excited conversation was almost enough to reach upstairs to the guest rooms.
Almost.
Wendy stretched and breathed a contented sigh, her leg sliding down along Travis’s as she uncoiled herself from his side. The competition knocked away at the back of her mind, but for the moment, all she wanted to think about was the salty tang of her husband’s skin and the steadiness of his chest rising and falling beside her.
“Is it morning already?” he asked, stretching away.
“I’d rather it wasn’t.”
Wendy followed her comment with a low laugh. It was a small miracle that she’d been able to get any work done at all in the last two days, since that glorious night when Travis had followed her up to her room. They’d kissed and caressed and explored all through that night, then put on masks of innocence and determination when they went down to the ballroom on Friday to work on the dresses. Travis had made a trip out to Paradise Ranch to gather his belongings over lunch on Friday, and by that night, half the town knew that he had moved into the hotel with her. Whispers had flown back and forth that Bonneville wasn’t happy, but Bonneville had also been banned from the hotel until the competition was over.
Travis rolled to his side, pulling Wendy into his arms and k
issing her forehead, her nose, and then her lips. “Are you ready to go down there and win yourself a dress shop?”
Wendy laughed, suddenly nervous. “Who’s to say I’ll actually win?”
“Me.”
He grinned, slipping a hand around to the small of her back and tugging her close. They hadn’t bothered putting on nightclothes after their activity the evening before, and Wendy’s body flared to life as skin pressed against skin. She didn’t suppose she would ever be able to feel the heat of her husband’s body without wanting him.
Travis leaned in for another kiss. As desperately as Wendy wanted to let go of everything and rekindle her newfound passion in his arms, sense got the better of her. She barely let her lips touch his before wriggling free with a reluctant sigh.
“It’s past seven already,” she said, climbing out of bed.
“So?”
She glanced over her shoulder, only to find that Travis had rolled all the way to his stomach and now rested his chin on his crossed arms as he raked her naked body with a lover’s gaze.
“I love every inch of you,” he said before she could answer his question.
Breath caught in Wendy’s lungs. “You…do?” Passion was something they’d explored for hours in the last few days, but love?
“I love the way your skin heats up when I touch it.” He inched his way to the edge of the bed. “I love your curves. I love how long and limber your arms and legs are.” He swung his legs over the end of the bed and stood. Several parts of him stood, stiff and tall, as he stalked toward her. “And I love the way you look at me like your soul is on fire.”
She gasped and shivered as he reached her, wrapping his arms around her with gentle insistence. He still stood behind her, his swollen staff pressing into her backside as he reached around to cradle one of her breasts.
“But most of all,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder, then her neck, then the base of her ear. “I love the way that you don’t give up, no matter how tough the competition and no matter how badly they cheat.”