For Keeps

by Rachel Lacey

  “Don’t fight it.” She slid her hands beneath his shirt and raked her fingers over his bare skin. Hot. Taut. Firm. His muscles bunched beneath her touch.

  Her hands roamed over his chest, through a smattering of coarse hair and across hard, muscled skin to the waistband of his jeans. His eyes closed, and his chest stilled. He held his breath as her fingers hovered over his fly.

  He’d lost his hat somewhere, probably in the mud by the pasture. Oops. Without it, he looked somewhat vulnerable, every nuance of his expression exposed to her gaze. She brushed her hand across the front of his jeans and watched the raw need flicker over his features. He swallowed hard, looking like a man on the verge of desperation.

  She dipped her hand inside his waistband and gripped him. He was so hard, like red-hot steel in her hand. A rough groan tore from his chest, and he thrust himself into her hand. Her body clenched; that pulsing need low in her belly grew almost unbearable in its strength.

  T.J.’s eyes opened, fiery hot and glazed with lust. He gripped her wrist and pushed her back, her hands finding their way to his neck. She clasped them together and held on. He kissed her again, until her head spun and her body trembled.

  He stroked her through her jeans, and she gasped into his mouth.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered, desperate and overcome.

  He did stop, but only to slip his hand inside her pants. His fingers reached her bare skin, and she cried out. His hot, rough skin was perfection. He moved in a perfect rhythm, and oh God, she was so close. Tension coiled inside her, and her hips bucked against him.

  “Go ahead,” he urged in that low, sexy voice. “I’ve got you.”

  He stroked his thumb over her center, and she came apart in his arms. Pleasure rained over her, mixed with the storm overhead. It was one of the most amazing moments of her life. She groaned as she rode out the orgasm, then collapsed in his arms.

  T.J. was staring at her in wonder, his chocolate eyes so dark they looked almost black. “Goddamn, woman, you are about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “You’re pretty damn sexy yourself.” She smiled, her arms tight around him. “What do you say we go inside out of this rain?”

  “I was kind of enjoying the rain,” he whispered against her lips.

  She shivered with delight. “Me too.” She slid her hands around to his butt and cupped him. “But I don’t feel anything in your back pockets.”

  “I always take my wallet out to ride.”

  “So you see the problem.” She brought her mouth to his and kissed him.

  He raised his head, gasping for air. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  She nodded with a teasing smile. “Oh, honey, I wouldn’t leave you in this state. It’s not fair.”

  He drew back, his mouth pressed in a firm line. “That’s not what I mean. We can still stop. We should stop.”

  “No, we shouldn’t. We both want this. Why keep fighting it?” Her gut instinct was to reach inside his jeans and remind him why they should do this. Drive him out of his mind until he couldn’t stop, until he lost control. That’s what she would usually do.

  But something told her that wouldn’t work on T.J. She knew how to seduce a man below the belt. To work her magic using the head on his shoulders was a different ball game entirely.

  “Maybe we should slow this down and think it through,” he said.

  She wound her arms around his neck and looked him straight in the eye. “We’ve done enough of that, don’t you think? Please, T.J., take me to your bed.”

  He met her gaze. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  He crushed his mouth against hers one more time, then swept her off her feet and carried her through the pouring rain toward the house.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  She looked up at T.J. with those big hazel eyes. Thunder crashed above them; rain poured over them. It dripped from her hair and hung in glistening drops on her lashes. And right there, with one look, she brought him to his knees.

  She had no idea the power she had over him. No idea.

  He carried her inside the front door. They were dripping wet and streaked with mud, a total mess. He kicked his boots off, tossed her sneakers beside them, then carried her upstairs, through the bedroom, into the bath. She slid to her feet on the green and white bath mat, her hands still locked behind his neck.

  “What are we doing in here?” she asked, her lips teasing his.

  “We’re filthy, in case you didn’t notice.” He reached inside the shower and turned it on, letting the water get nice and hot.

  She looked down at her mud-splashed yellow shirt, and the muddy puddle already gathering around them on the tile floor and laughed. “Oops.”

  “Consider this foreplay,” he said and tugged off his shirt.

  “I like your kind of foreplay.” She trailed her fingers over his chest, tugging lightly at his chest hair, driving him absolutely crazy.

  “Your turn.”

  She gripped her shirt, and he closed his fingers over hers, helping her lift it over her head. Beneath it, she wore a pale yellow bra with lacy flowers on the clasp between her breasts.

  Sexy. So sexy.

  He cupped her breasts in his hands. She grabbed his jeans, yanked him against her, and undid the button. The throbbing ache in his groin intensified. He was holding on to his control by a thread. “No touching.”

  She gripped him through the denim, and he pulsed in her hand. He swore roughly and pulled away. “I mean it, woman. Hands to yourself.”

  “That can be fun too.” She gave him a wicked grin as she popped the clasp of her bra, allowing her breasts to spring free.

  He reached for them, but she shook her head. “No touching, you made the rule.”

  He groaned. “Dammit.”

  Merry giggled. She shimmied out of her jeans, giving him a sexy little striptease that left her in nothing but skimpy yellow panties. T.J. went weak at the knees.

  “Please…” He reached for her, but she batted his hand away with a playful laugh.

  She hooked her thumbs through the strings at her hips and slowly, gloriously, slid her panties to the floor.

  “My God, you are so beautiful.” He just stood there for a moment soaking in the sight of her, all that smooth, creamy skin offset by the dark curls framing her face.

  “Hurry up,” she said and jumped into the shower.

  He scrambled out of his pants and boxers and followed her. Here they were again, kissing as water poured over them, this time hot and steamy… and naked. He pinned her hands over her head, holding his body apart from hers by sheer force of will.

  With his right hand, he grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed it quickly over his arms and legs, not trusting Merry to behave if he released her. He brought the soap against her skin, and she bucked against him.

  “Oh, my God,” she panted. “You are evil.”

  She brought her hips against his, his erection against her hot, wet skin, and he was lost. He rocked against her belly as she gripped his ass, yanking him closer, and he was absolutely powerless to pull away.

  “Condom,” she gasped.

  “In the bedroom.” Which at that moment felt about a thousand miles away.

  She made a sound of protest, her body still pressed tight against his.

  “I told you not to touch.”

  She hooked a leg around his hip. “I should have warned you, self-control is not really my thing.”

  “Fuck, woman.” He untangled their legs, then turned to shut off the water.

  Merry was already halfway into his bedroom, a towel wrapped loosely around her shoulders.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned him with a finger. Dear God, this woman was going to be the death of him.

  He managed to walk—not run—to her, and when he reached her, she grabbed him and rolled him onto the bed. He landed flat on his back with Merry straddling him.

  She bent her head and kissed him, her hair dri
pping onto his chest. She wiggled her hips, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  “Jesus, Merry, slow down, or I’m not going to last a minute once I get inside you.”

  Her fingers closed over his cock and squeezed. “Who says you have to?”

  She stroked him, and it was so good, too good. He gritted his teeth, then flipped them, bringing Merry onto the mattress beneath him.

  Much better. He might not last, but he’d make sure that she didn’t either.

  * * *

  One minute Merry was in control, the next she was flat on her back with T.J.’s big, strong body pinning her to the bed. He held her hands in his as he kissed his way from her mouth over her neck and down her belly.

  Her body tingled in anticipation. She had to hand it to him, he was very attentive to her pleasure. Such a gentleman, even in bed. He used his mouth to drive her wild, until she was panting, begging for release.

  He brought her so close, and then he pulled away.

  She whimpered in frustration.

  He rolled toward the bedside table and grabbed a condom. She snatched it from his hand and pushed him down on his back, straddling him. Much better.

  He watched through eyes heavy with desire, burning with need. And so damn sexy, so handsome he took her breath away.

  She ripped open the packet and rolled the condom over his impressive length. He lifted her hips, positioning her over him.

  She sank onto him with a moan of pleasure. T.J.’s eyes closed, and his hands gripped her hips. He held her against him for a long moment as their bodies joined, and then she started to move.

  She rode him hard, and he met her thrust for thrust, each movement bringing her closer to the edge. And then, with a cry, she went over. Her body clenched around him as the orgasm took hold. T.J. let out a rough sound, gripping her hips and thrusting into her, driving her higher and higher until with a groan, he followed her over.

  She fell against his chest, sated and breathless, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart against her ear. “That was…” Great? Amazing? That, and more.

  “Uh huh.” His voice was low and gravelly, his arm slung protectively around her waist. She lifted her head to peek at his face, thrilled with the glazed look of satisfaction he wore.

  They lay like that for a few minutes, skin to skin, while they caught their breath. Then he rolled her to her side and slid out of bed to get rid of the condom. He walked into the bathroom, then came back through the bedroom with their wet, dirty clothes in his arms.

  “Be right back.”

  She closed her eyes and snuggled into his blanket. The bed smelled like him, warm and sweet like molasses. She pulled back the blanket and slid between the sheets, her face pressed to his pillow.

  Sometime later, she heard his footsteps in the hall and dragged herself back to consciousness in time to see him come through the doorway, still buck naked, now carrying two glasses and a plate of something that looked gooey and delicious.

  “Peach cobbler,” he said. “My mom always sends me home with leftovers.”

  “Homemade peach cobbler?” Merry’s mouth was already watering. She accepted the fork he held out and took a big bite. “Oh, my God, that is amazing.”

  He nodded as he set the plate on the bed between them and dug in.

  Merry clutched the sheet against her and drank in the sight of him sitting there completely naked, eating cobbler without a care in the world. She wasn’t complaining. The view was sublime. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body, nor was he sculpted like the men she’d dated who spent too much time at the gym.

  Nope, T.J. was lean and muscular from good old-fashioned life on the farm. He wrangled uncooperative livestock and hoisted bales of hay to get the body she was now shamelessly ogling.

  He handed her a glass of lemonade, and she gulped it down, parched. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He scooted closer, and then they were kissing again.

  He pushed her down and had his way with her, as slow and thorough as the first time had been fast and furious. By the time they’d finished, Merry was limp and panting. They dozed off together in his bed and woke to late afternoon sun streaming through the windows.

  T.J.’s arm rested across her belly, their legs entwined. As she roused, his fingers trailed over her skin, stirring her emotions and a deep-seated restlessness within her.

  “I should go check on the dogs soon. They’ve been in the barn a long time,” she said.

  T.J. grunted, and his fingers dipped lower. She swatted his hand away. “I mean it.”

  “You’re talking about dogs at a time like this?” Undeterred, he brought his hand between her legs and stroked her.

  “It’s late. I should go…” But her body arched against his hand. Wanting more. Needing his touch.

  “It’s four o’clock in the damn afternoon.” He rolled against her, letting her feel how hard he was, how ready.

  He kissed her, sliding his tongue against hers while his hands explored every inch of her body. He felt so good, tasted so good. Everything about him was right, so right it scared her.

  She slid on top of him to work a little magic of her own. She needed to regain some control, get back on familiar ground because he was so damn chivalrous, so generous, it was almost too much. She couldn’t ever let herself get comfortable with a man like T. J. Jameson.

  He was forever, and she didn’t want forever.

  But she’d enjoy the hell out of this for however long it lasted. She slid down and took him in her mouth. He gripped the sheets and swore. She took him as close as he’d taken her earlier, then reached for the drawer and rolled a condom over him.

  The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back, T.J. poised above her. He claimed her mouth with another heart-shattering kiss as he slid inside her. It was so good, so perfect. He thrust slow and steady until she was absolutely wild, then slid his thumb over the spot where their bodies joined and sent her flying.

  They came together. He looked into her eyes as he found release, and she saw everything, his need, his pleasure, but more. She saw right into his soul. He’d opened himself to her completely. And as he collapsed against her to catch his breath, she felt the sudden inability to breathe.

  That weird feeling in her chest had nothing to do with the unbridled affection she’d just seen in his eyes. No, definitely not.

  She pushed him off her and went into the bathroom. She winced at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was an ungodly mess. Maybe T.J. had merely been awestruck by the kinky mop on her head.

  Yeah. Maybe.

  When she came back out, he was just walking into the room with her clean clothes in his arms. He tossed them on the bed with a chuckle. “You’re still worried about the damn dogs, aren’t you?”

  The dogs? She’d forgotten all about them, but they had been in the barn a long time. “You know me.” She shrugged as she reached for her clothes. “Thanks.”

  He went into the closet and returned with a fresh pair of Wranglers fastened low over his hips. She couldn’t help but stare. She almost asked him to put on his hat and boots. He’d have looked like the cover of a romance novel.

  “I suppose I should check on Amber. She’s a little afraid of storms.”

  “Really?” There was something about the way he said it that warmed her heart. He was absolutely soft on Amber, not that he’d ever admit it.

  “Yeah, she shakes and hides whenever it thunders.”

  “Aww, poor thing. Do you make her feel safe, tough guy?” She gave him a friendly jab, and he scowled at her.

  “I rubbed her and stuff. Didn’t seem to make a difference.”

  Merry’s heart melted into a puddle at her feet at the thought of T.J. sitting with Amber during a storm, comforting her. “That’s awfully nice of you.”

  “I’m a nice guy, what can I say.”

  They walked to the barn together and found the dogs fast asleep in the cool shavings, Chip, Salsa, and Ralph in a pile, Amber on her
own in the corner.

  They all leaped to their feet when the stall door slid open, and Merry shooed them out the door of the barn to do their business.

  She kept a close eye on them to make sure no one ventured toward the road, but they all stayed in the field behind the barn, running and playing. Happy and carefree, the way dogs should be.

  After a few minutes, she rounded them up and clipped on their leashes. She handed Amber’s to T.J., then stood there, feeling awkward.

  “So I’ll see you in the morning then.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if their next meeting would be as a couple and not her reporting for work at his camp.

  As if the entire world hadn’t just shifted beneath her feet.

  The puppies yanked on her arm, and she let them tug her free, let them drag her toward the car and away from T.J.

  “Yep, tomorrow,” she said, and ran for her car.

  * * *

  “I did a stupid thing,” Merry lamented into the phone. “Why aren’t you here? I really need a girls’ night out at Red Heels.”

  “I’ll make it up to you next week when I visit,” Cara said. “But what did you do?”

  “I slept with T.J.” Merry curled her feet under her on the couch and gulped from the rum and Coke she’d poured.

  “The hot cowboy running the camp?”

  “That’s the one.” She gulped again.

  “Why is that stupid?” Cara asked. “You’re both single, consenting adults.”

  “Because… because we have to work together for another week and a half.” She drained the glass and fixed herself another.

  “So? Your relationships usually reach the month mark. Wait a minute. Is this more than sex? Is that what’s got you freaked out?”

  “No! No way. Just sex. Really great sex.”

  Cara laughed in her ear. “I think you’re protesting a bit too much, Mer. Do you have feelings for him?”

  “Stop it. No, but that’s why we weren’t going to do this. He’s looking for someone to settle down with, and I’m not.”

  “He’s a guy. I’m sure he’s capable of having sex without wanting to marry you after.”