Bad News Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  “This will change things,” he said.

  “I know. I want things to change. More than that, I want you.”

  He looked into her eyes, let his gaze drop to those soft, sweet lips. Kate Garrett contained the promise of hell wrapped up in a pretty little bit of heaven.

  It would feel so good, but once it was all over, there would be nothing but regret and purgatory to deal with.

  He knew it. It was wrong. It was bad. It was a betrayal of the two men who had stuck by him all of his life.

  He’d protected Kate from some of the pain that came from living with a drunk. Had done his damnedest to make her laugh at impossible situations. Had punched Chad for daring to overstep with her.

  He’d locked the door on so many of life’s evils, shielded her from them. Only to discover he’d locked her in with an even bigger threat. Himself.

  He was the fox in the henhouse. But even knowing that didn’t stop him from wanting to eat her.

  “Kiss me, Katie.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE ROUGH COMMAND on Jack’s lips was enough to send Kate over the edge then and there. She was trembling. Had been ever since she’d hung up on him during their phone call earlier.

  She’d been certain of two things during that call. He needed her, and he was trying to push her away. She’d decided she wasn’t going to let him get away with that.

  Someone had to be there for him. She wasn’t going to leave him to go through this alone, not when he’d been there for her countless times over the years.

  Anyway, his “threat” just wasn’t all that scary.

  He’d promised her that she wouldn’t leave his house a virgin. And she was very much hoping he followed through with that promise.

  But she wouldn’t worry about that just yet. For now, she would just follow that deep, throaty command, enjoy the way it made her feel. Enjoy the way he said her name.

  Katie.

  That lush sensation of having velvet rubbed across her skin. The one she had resisted for so long because it had frightened her. Because it had confused her.

  She wasn’t confused now.

  Though she was a little scared. The virginal nerves were to be expected, probably. She had never actually talked to anybody about virginity loss before. Because she’d had a tough time bonding with girls when she was in high school. And by the time she was out of high school, it was weird that she hadn’t lost it—at least, she assumed. So she didn’t really want to ask anyone anything, because that would mean admitting her status.

  She liked her friends well enough, but she didn’t really trust them with information like that. The commonality between herself and her friends was horses, not boys.

  But her nerves were going to have to take a backseat, because Jack wanted her to kiss him. So she was going to.

  She trailed her fingertips along the edge of his jaw, relishing the feel of his stubble beneath her fingertips. It was such a masculine thing.

  She was used to men. She’d grown up in a house full of them. She was used to whiskers, used to heavy exposure to the top half of men’s bodies as her brothers traipsed through the house in towels or just sweatpants. Accustomed to the way they talked, the way they swore, the way they kept house—or, in Connor’s case, didn’t.

  But this was different. Different from all those easy, domestic male things she had been exposed to all of her life. Different from watching shirtless men sweat and build decks and barns, which she’d spent a fair amount of her time enjoying.

  That kind of distant observation left her a degree removed. Allowed her to feel a little bit of excitement while holding herself back. Without ever risking anything.

  Sort of like barrel racing on the amateur circuit when she could probably go pro.

  She shook off that thought. She didn’t need to have any serious non-Jack thoughts right now. And so she let her world shrink down, reduced to nothing more than the feel of his whiskers beneath her hand. Nothing more than the beat of her heart and the echoing beat at the apex of her thighs.

  Her heart beat out a rusty, unfamiliar rhythm against her breastbone, one hand still rested on his chest, held there by his iron grip.

  She leaned forward, hoping he couldn’t tell that she was shaking. She slid her thumb along the outline of his lower lip, mimicking what he’d done to her earlier. A short, deep sound rumbled in his throat and she took it as confirmation she’d done something right.

  “You’re sure taking a long time to kiss me,” he said.

  “I’m thinking.”

  “Second thoughts?”

  “No. Just thinking about how sexy you are,” she said, deciding she wasn’t going to turn into a shrinking violet just because the prospect of getting naked with him loomed. He was still Jack. And she’d never been very good at watching what she said around Jack. “I’ve never seen a naked man before.”

  A gust of air escaped his lips. “Dammit, Katie.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she said.

  “What if you don’t like it?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his breath fanning across her cheek.

  “I’d say the odds are pretty low. I mean, I like the way you look with clothes on. But I really like your skin. Your throat.”

  “My throat?”

  She swallowed hard, ignoring the little rash of embarrassment that broke out across her skin. “Yes. It’s hot. Your Adam’s apple. Because it’s very much a man thing.”

  “That’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

  “Well, I’m not finished yet.”

  He chuckled, but it wasn’t an easy sound. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “Your forearms.”

  “Those are good, too?” he asked, a smile curving his wicked mouth.

  “Really good,” she said, her throat dry now. “Your muscles, the dark hair. Your wrists. Your hands.”

  He moved in just a little closer, his lips so close now all she would have to do was tip her chin up just slightly and she would close the distance between their mouths. “What about my hands?”

  “They look strong. And when I imagine having them on me...all over me...”

  “What do you imagine me doing to you with my hands, Katie?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

  “Touching me.”

  He made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl, one that resonated deep inside her. “Not good enough. Tell me more. Tell me what you want.”

  “T-touching my breasts.” She closed her eyes to try and get the rest of the words out without melting into a puddle of embarrassment. “Sliding down my back, holding on to my hips.”

  “What about touching you between your thighs, baby?” he asked, his voice so rough now it was like a stranger’s.

  She opened her eyes and they clashed with his intense blue gaze. “Yes. I want that.”

  “Good. Now, are you going to stop talking and kiss me?”

  She figured that was a rhetorical question. So her answer was to press her mouth against his. There was no anger between them this time, no challenge, no dare. But it didn’t defuse the heat, the passion that burned between them.

  His lips were hot and firm, commanding. He directed the kiss with unerring skill, delving deep, sweeping his tongue across hers, the slick friction sending a sweet honeyed sensation down through her veins, all the way down, leaving her wet with wanting him.

  He released his hold on her wrist, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her body tightly against his. He was all strength and warmth, comforting and terrifying at the same time. She could feel his arousal hardening against her stomach.

  Jack Monaghan was hard. For her.

  She couldn’t help but smile at that. And then a little giggle bubbled up in her t
hroat and managed to escape.

  Jack broke the kiss, his mouth still hovering near hers. “Something funny, badger-cat?”

  “No,” she said, unable to suppress the smile.

  “Good.” Then he leaned forward and bit her bottom lip before kissing her again, harder than before.

  The sharp pain from the bite shocked her, especially followed closely by the deep, unending pleasure that came from his wicked, skillful tongue. And then she couldn’t remember if the bite had hurt at all or if it had just felt good. It all felt good. Jack felt good.

  He moved his hands down her back, just as she’d told him she wanted him to. All the way down to her hips, holding her steady, held tight against his body, against his hardened erection.

  This time she was the one who pulled back. She studied his face and was struck by how familiar and different he was all at the same time. This was Jack. Her Jack. The one who would always try to make her smile even while the world felt as if it was crumbling around her. The one who always gave her a hard time and tugged her braid and called her Katie.

  He was that, but it was like she’d always been looking at him through a fog and suddenly it had lifted, revealing details, facets of him she’d never been able to see before. She’d caught glimpses of them, little moments of intensity, a look, a smile, but this was different. More. Like looking full on into the sun.

  And she didn’t want to look away.

  “What?”

  “Just looking at you,” she said.

  “And?”

  “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” she said, immediately feeling out of her league as the strange old-fashioned compliment hung in the air between them.

  Something sharp and hot passed through his eyes. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  He moved his hand to her shoulder, then down the length of her arm, and curled his fingers around her wrist and drew it close to his mouth, pressing his lips firmly against her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. “You’re beautiful, Kate Garrett.”

  She shifted, leaning in and kissing him again. Because she was afraid that if she didn’t, she was going to cry. And she’d already cried in front of him one too many times. Crying was stupid. It was passive. It didn’t accomplish anything.

  It most especially wouldn’t accomplish her number one goal of the night, which was to get in bed with Jack.

  The thought sent a shock wave down through her body. It was really happening. She was going to bed with Jack. Which was also a terribly old-fashioned way of thinking about things. But her thoughts had suddenly gone a little bit coy now that actual sex was imminent.

  “I’m going to pick you up now,” he said, his lips moving against hers as he spoke.

  “What?” But even as she asked the question, she found herself being swept up off the ground, cradled close to his chest.

  “We’re going upstairs.”

  She looped her arms around his neck and held on while he carried her from the kitchen, through the living area and up the wooden stairs that led to the second floor of his home. She’d never been upstairs at Jack’s house. There were only bedrooms up there. And she’d never been in his bedroom.

  She shivered.

  Jack paused midstride. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, her teeth chattering.

  “I’m only going to ask you this once. From this point forward I’m going to assume this is what you want. That even if you’re nervous, you want this. You tell me right now if you aren’t completely certain.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I’m certain.”

  “You are certain about what?” he asked, his voice uncompromising.

  “I want to make love.” She could have bitten off her tongue. Why couldn’t she have said something dirty like screw? Or at least straightforward like have sex? Why was she suddenly shy?

  “You understand what this is, don’t you? Nothing outside the space, outside the house, outside tonight, changes.”

  Her heart twisted. “I understand.”

  He nodded once, then continued on his journey up the stairs, down the hall. His bedroom door was partly cracked and he shoved it open the rest of the way with his knee, then kicked it closed behind him.

  It was a big bedroom, with wood floors and a braided rug in the center. Beyond that was a large bed with a rustic wood headboard and footboard and a quilt spread over the mattress.

  If there were more details to take in, she didn’t grasp them. She was focused simply on the way Jack was holding her, on the purpose with which he was walking through the room, toward that bed.

  He set her down on the edge of it and took a step back, looking at her.

  Then he gripped the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it up over his head, exposing his body.

  Her mouth went completely dry, her heart thundering so hard she was afraid it would sprout hooves and gallop straight through her chest.

  She’d seen Jack without a shirt before, but she’d always done her best not to look. Always done her best not to feed the wicked little monster that lived inside of her, harboring a Jack obsession she’d always tried to pretend wasn’t there.

  So now she indulged herself. Taking in every detail, every inch of exposed skin. More than that, she let herself feel. Let the full impact of him hit her square in the chest and spread out, all the way to her toes, and hitting some very interesting places in between.

  His chest was broad and muscular, tapering down to a narrow waist with well-defined abs. He had just the right amount of dark hair on his chest, thinning out as it spread downward, then becoming more pronounced again in a line that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. A line she most definitely wanted to follow.

  Happy trails to her indeed.

  He took a step closer to her, and her eyes were drawn lower, to the front of his jeans and the aggressive bulge that was now at eye level. The fantasy she’d had earlier today in the truck outside the bridal store flashed through her mind.

  She reached out, grabbing hold of his belt buckle, but he took firm hold of her and lowered her hands. “No. Not that. Not yet.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because we’re not starting with something that’s about me.”

  She cleared her throat, feeling nervous, embarrassed. She’d been confident a moment ago, but maybe that wasn’t something a woman was supposed to want. “I... I mean... I want...”

  “Me, too. But I don’t think I can handle it right now.”

  “We’re going to have to stop talking in euphemism, because I’m kind of worried we are talking about the same things, and I’m worried that I don’t understand you,” she said, the words flowing out in a nervous rush.

  He laughed, his chest pitching, his abs rippling with the motion. It wasn’t an easy laugh; it was forced, strange. “I don’t want you to suck me off right now, because I’ll come in about ten seconds. Was that straightforward enough for you?”

  Her face felt like it was on fire. “Yes.”

  “Were we talking about the same thing?” She nodded, swallowing hard. “Good. I’m glad you want to.”

  She felt relieved by that statement. Relieved that it was okay for her to want to taste him. Relieved that they were tracking.

  He looked at her for a moment, then moved forward, putting his knee down on the mattress right next to her thigh. Then he leaned in, kissing her, propelling them both backward so they were lying on the mattress. He was holding himself up, palms flat on either side of her shoulders, his body not making any contact with hers.

  She arched upward, desperate for something, desperate for more.

  “Be patient,” he said, angling his head to kiss her neck.

  Desire ignited in her, a spark meeting a pool of gasoline. And it was just a kiss on her
neck. But it was unexpected, and it was new. And it was so much more powerful than she’d imagined simple contact could be.

  His lips embarked on a journey down to her collarbone, half his kiss landing on her T-shirt and the other on her bare skin. He raised his hand, curled his fingers around the fabric and pulled it down low, making a V that peaked between her breasts.

  He looked up at her, hungry blue eyes meeting hers, and a sharp stab of anticipation hit her low and deep.

  He kissed her then, on the curve of her breast, and she let her head fall back, let her eyes close again.

  Abruptly, he abandoned her, straightening up, sitting on his knees. She looked at him on the bed, so close to her, and she knew she was staring with an expression of dumbfounded wonder on her face, but she couldn’t bother to care.

  Yes, she had seen plenty of shirtless men, but not like this. She’d never realized before that there were different kinds of nakedness. There was the kind where men stripped their shirts off while they were working, wiping sweat from their skin before going about their business. The kind you saw at the beach, when shirts off was the casual dress code for every male in the vicinity.

  And then there was this. An intimate, raw kind of nakedness. Where the knowledge that they would touch each other, taste each other, all over their bare skin hung between them.

  A kind that promised more secrets would be revealed, along with more skin. A kind that made her whole body feel electrified.

  His eyes were unreadable, watchful. As though he was assessing her, deciding what to do next. She wished he would hurry and make up his mind, because she was afraid she would burn up and incinerate into a little pile of Kate-shaped ashes before he did.

  His next move was fast, fluid. Suddenly he was over her again, taking hold of the bottom of her T-shirt and wrenching it over her head. He looked at her, his gaze dark, intent on her. He swore, harsh, hard.

  She watched his face as the intensity in his eyes sharpened, as his lips parted slightly, his jaw slackening. He looked like... He looked an awful lot like she imagined she had only a few moments ago when she’d been examining his body.