He couldn’t answer her for a moment and he looked away, through the cottonwoods and plums and thickets of chokecherry. “My sister named her,” he finally said. “She made it up.”
There was a moment of silence. The odd, sad calls of curlews overhead and the jingle of the bridles as the horses plodded along suddenly seemed much louder.
“I’m sorry.” Silver’s voice was low and subdued. “I didn’t want to remind you of sad things.”
He shrugged. “You didn’t know.” But your brother does. The thought reminded him of the reason this particular woman was riding with him and of what he planned to do. Closing his mind to any voice of caution, he said, “Why don’t we take a little break? There’s a good little patch of shade up ahead in the windbreak. We can let the horses rest, too.” The windbreak was one of many stands of pines his mother had planted during her life on the ranch.
“What’s a windbreak?”
He pointed to the pines they were approaching. “Those didn’t grow there naturally. We plant them on purpose, to give the cattle a place to shelter during storms. Snow will pile up against a little hill or a copse of trees and the cattle huddle on the other side where it’s more protected. A good windbreak can save a whole herd of cows during a blizzard.”
Silver nodded, leaning forward in her saddle for a better look. “Were these planted in your lifetime?”
“Yes. It was my mother’s pet project. She used to order a couple hundred little pines every year and plant ’em in triple rows wherever Dad thought they’d work best.”
“That’s a wonderful idea.” Her voice was warm. “If I come to visit Cal next year, maybe I’ll plan to come in May again so I can do the same thing on his land.”
They reached the pines and Deck dismounted. As Silver did the same, he opened the saddlebag Sego carried and withdrew the blanket he’d stashed. He carried the blanket into the shadow cast by the copse of pines and spread it out on the fragrant carpet of needles in the shady spot. From the other pack, he took a big canteen and the packages Silver had handed him back at the house. Then he gestured to the blanket. “Have a seat.”
She walked to the blanket and lowered herself in one smooth motion, leaning back on her hands and stretching her legs before her. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“It is,” he agreed, lowering himself beside her in a similar position. The way she sat thrust her breasts against the soft fabric of the pink shirt and outlined the flat planes of her hips and belly, and he tried not to stare. “It was seventy-eight degrees when I left to ride over to your place. If that isn’t just about perfect, I don’t know what is.”
She reached for the package she’d brought along. “Want a cookie?”
The cookies she’d made were the chocolate kind his mother had called no-bakes because they got cooked atop the stove. His mouth watered. “I think I’m in Heaven. This is one of my favorite kinds.”
“I like them, too. I had a chocolate craving—that’s why I made them.”
He took a cookie and bit into it. “Mmmm. I haven’t had these in ages. Since Mom moved to Florida, probably. I can barely boil water, and my brother isn’t exactly what you’d call a gourmet chef.”
She laughed, and the light sound danced out across the prairie grasses as she leaned back again, this time on her elbows. “I like to cook but I’d hardly classify myself as a gourmet.”
“You can cook for me anytime.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Wow. Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse.” Her voice held a gentle irony. The full Cupid’s bow of her lips quirked in a smile again, and as their eyes met, he felt the white heat of sexual attraction sear him from the inside out. Abruptly he decided it was time to do something about it.
Rolling to his side, he tugged her elbow out from under her and trapped her beneath him. He leaned over her, his weight against her hip, and in her eyes he saw the instant she realized what he intended.
“Deck, I—”
“Shhh. Don’t talk.” He leaned closer, sliding his free hand across her stomach, feeling the muscles quiver beneath his hand. “Just enjoy.”
Five
Silver didn’t move for a long moment. Above her the dark branches of the pines were outlined against a sky so bright and blue it didn’t look real. Deck’s head and broad shoulders blocked much of her view and as she stared up at his fallen-angel features, a half-smile lifted one corner of his mouth.
“Relax,” he said. “This isn’t going to hurt.”
“How do you know?” It was intended to be saucy and flippant, but even she heard the quaver in her voice.
“Because something that feels this good can’t hurt.” His voice was soothing. He spread his palm wide where it rested across her midriff, and she couldn’t prevent an involuntary intake of breath at the sensations that radiated from his touch.
She studied his face, watching him as his gaze followed the movement of his hand. His jaw was long and square, bristling with gleaming stubble that echoed the color of the thick, wavy hair she knew was hidden beneath his hat.
As if he’d divined her thoughts, his hand went to his hat, sweeping it off and tossing it aside, then flipping hers over to land atop it.
“We don’t need these in the shade,” he told her in a deep, rough voice.
She knew what he expected, what he intended. His eyes were a deep, impenetrable blue as he awaited her reaction, and he held himself so still above her that she could feel the tension quivering through his muscles.
She barely knew him. Technically that was true. But she felt comfortable with him, somehow right in a way she’d never known before. It wasn’t just a physical experience, either. She liked his long, thoughtful silences, his gentle teasing, his obvious love for the land that was so much a part of him. A wave of deep tenderness swept through her. No, it was more than like; it was love.
She should be thunderstruck. She should be denying it. She shouldn’t be in love with a man she’d known for a week.
But she was. Deck completed her in a way she’d never known before. Instinctively she recognized the rightness of that completion, the forever quality to their coming together that would never be duplicated. And as she looked into the depths of his intense blue eyes, she nodded, giving him a trembling smile.
He lifted a hand and traced a finger around the outline of her lips. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” But he didn’t wait for an answer. He lowered his head and sought her lips with his, and as he pulled her into the now-familiar whirlpool of sensual pleasure created by his touch, she found herself unable to summon the will to hold him off as she knew she probably should. As his lips firmed, demanded, entreated her to respond to his stirring kisses, she mentally shrugged her shoulders and gave herself to fate. How could this be wrong? With Deck, it would always be right.
His tongue danced over hers, then plunged deep in search of her sweetness and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him to her. She wanted to hold him forever.
She pressed closer, loving the solid strength of his big body, the tense clasp of his strong arms about her. The hand on her belly clenched spasmodically, then relaxed and she let out a little sigh of pleasure as he moved it slowly but steadily up to cover her breast. His palm was big and warm. Her flesh swelled and tightened beneath his touch and lightning-quick streaks of sexual pleasure shot from her nipple straight to her womb when he worried the tender peak between his thumb and forefinger. Her back arched, pushing her hard against him.
He responded to her unspoken cue, pulling his mouth away from hers to find its way down the column of her neck unerringly across the slope of her breast to the tip. When he closed his mouth over the fabric-covered nipple she nearly screamed aloud, squeezing her eyes tight shut.
He pulled back and her eyes flew open again.
“I want to see you.” He dragged her into a sitting position before she fully comprehended his words. His hard hands streaked over her, tearing her shirt free of her jeans and roughly popping open buttons, bur
rowing beneath to the front clasp of her bra and snapping it loose. He smoothed the shirt back over her shoulders, taking the bra with it, and as his hand left small trails of burning sensation across her exposed flesh, she sucked in a breath. He paused, his eyes on the naked flesh he’d exposed and retraced his path, settling his palm squarely over the full mound. “Mmm, beautiful.” His voice was a ragged murmur.
“This…is happening too fast.” She was having trouble forming her thoughts.
His palm smoothed up her throat, then back down across the fine, soft skin to gently warm her other breast. “This is fate,” he said quietly.
It was so close to what she’d been thinking that it startled her. Her gaze flew to his. His eyes were sober, a dark, unfathomable blue, boring into hers with a penetrating question she didn’t understand, couldn’t answer. “What?” she whispered.
Deck bent his head again, brushing tender kisses over her throat, down the midline of her body to the valley between her breasts. He turned his head and laid his cheek against her. “I have to do this,” he informed her.
She knew what he meant. She felt it, too, this inexorable pull drawing her closer and closer, binding her to him. In answer, she slipped her hands up his forearms to caress his broad shoulders. He lifted his head and surveyed her with another of those unreadable glances, and as he did so, she stroked her palms across the solid muscles of his back, then drew them around to his chest, seeking the buttons down the front of his shirt.
As her fingers opened them one by one, steadily making their way down the fabric that lay between them, she heard his breathing change, felt him tense as her fingers burrowed beneath his undershirt and brushed over flesh. He took her hand in his and moved it up his body, flattening it over the heavy muscles of his chest. She felt the tiny point of his nipple beneath her palm as he slowly moved her hand in a small, steady circular motion which she quickly picked up and continued, even when his hand moved away and came back to explore the feminine bounty he’d uncovered.
Small flames licked at her self-control as she delicately stroked her hand across the soft fur that covered his chest, finding her way to his other budded nipple and rubbing her thumb across it. Her own breath was shallow and quick, streamers of excitement unfurling deep within her, creeping down to pluck insistently at her womb. Between her legs, a needy ache began. She felt herself soften and throb.
He suckled her, his hot mouth drawing her in, drawing at the stiffened peak until she began to whimper aloud at the overwhelming sensation his tongue produced as it curled around her sensitive flesh. Her hips began to shift back and forth as heated fireworks burst and embers shot down to further incite her body’s gathering storm.
His hand had been cradling the plump pillow of her other breast, but he left it then, sliding down over the smooth, bare plane of her belly to the waistband of her jeans. She felt his fingers unbuckling her belt, deftly dealing with buttons and zippers, then the hot shock of his hard man’s hand against her abdomen, sliding down to comb his fingers through the springy curls he found there. He toyed with her for a moment while his mouth continued to tease at her breast. But when she shoved her hips up at him, the motion caught his hand and she hissed in a startled breath as a hard finger slid between the soft, throbbing folds of her most secret flesh.
She was steamy with moisture and as he sank his finger steadily between her thighs, the slick dampness eased his passage and pleasured her as he stroked and probed, slipped and circled. Tension drew a coil of red-hot need tight, stretching and stretching until she ground her heels into the blanket on which he’d laid her, seeking relief from the taut, hungry torment. He found the pulsing bud that directed her body’s response, and pressed with a gentle finger, and with no more warning than that, she exploded in his arms.
An avalanche of sensation crashed over her head, drowning her in its full fury. As her body heaved and thrashed against him, she was dimly aware of his deep whispers of encouragement, of his hand wringing every ounce of response from her until she lay limp and gasping for breath. She realized her eyes were tightly shut, and she opened them almost reluctantly, not wanting the sweet intimacy to end.
Deck was watching her intently, a half smile playing around his mouth. When she met his eyes, he dropped his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then sought her mouth. He kissed her deeply, possessively, and she was astonished to feel a distant throbbing in her abdomen heralding a return of the response she’d thought had to be exhausted.
Deck drew back and sat up. He came up onto his knees and shucked completely out of his shirt and undershirt. He was amazing, she thought with dreamy pleasure. His arms, chest, belly, everywhere she looked rippled with heavy, solid muscle from his daily work. No wonder his arms felt like steel beneath her hands.
He turned his attention back to her, stripping away her shoes and socks, shimmying her jeans down her legs and hooking his fingers beneath the tiny string-bikini panties she wore and tugging them off impatiently. He ran his hands over her with a rapt expression, as if he were memorizing her curves and textures, but finally he sat back with an impatient grimace and set his hands at the fastenings of his own belt and jeans.
He shoved them down in one rough movement, taking his briefs along, and she was shocked by the full, obvious power of his body, cushioned in a thicket of curls several shades darker than that on his head. For the first time, she felt a quiver of nerves.
He leaned forward then, letting the weight of his body cover her as he took her face between his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “Don’t be afraid.” His voice was deep and hoarse. He kissed her, still lying full-length on her, and she realized with gratitude that he was giving her time to get accustomed to his body, to the feel of his hard power and strength. As her confidence returned, so did the lazy pleasure she’d felt and she let herself relax and enjoy the rising excitement his body inspired. A small hint of the tension that had drawn her before trickled through her and she shifted her hips back and forth, just enough to make him draw in a breath and lift his head to look down at her with narrowed eyes. “My turn,” he informed her as he drew back.
He knelt between her legs and she glimpsed the small package he tore open. As he quickly covered himself, she watched with dreamy pleasure, another small pang of arousal penetrating her languor at the sight. Then he moved over her, drawing her thighs wider and settling his weight on her so that she could feel his hard strength snug between them, pulsing against her.
He reached for her hands, twining his fingers through hers and pinning both hands near her head. His blue gaze sharpened to the brilliance of a sapphire as he caught and held hers. Then, still maintaining the intense eye contact, he lifted his hips and she felt his solid length probing between her legs, pressing against the soft, throbbing portal. Her body opened easily, giving way to the steady pressure his hips exerted, admitting him in a hot, slick rush that made him grunt in surprised pleasure as he slid deep within her until he could go no farther.
She squirmed a little bit beneath him, loving the feel of him lodged deep but unaccustomed to the sweet invasion, and as she did, his fingers tightened almost painfully around hers.
“Don’t.” It was a harsh, whispered command.
She made a humming sound of arousal and amusement deep in her throat and wriggled her hips more purposefully as her confidence increased. “Why not?”
“Because.” His breath caught on a groan and she surged upward against him, determined to break the control he seemed so reluctant to lose. “I want you too much. If I don’t take this slow and easy I’m afraid I might hurt you.”
She nearly smiled at that, but he was dead serious so she smothered it, contenting herself with another contraction of her hips that nearly dislodged him before ramming hard against him, driving him deep within her once more. “I won’t break,” she breathed.
He gritted his teeth. “Stop.”
“No.” She started to move again, and then the world became a wild blur of sensation an
d movement, a maelstrom in which she could do nothing but feel and respond. His fingers released her and burrowed beneath her to palm her bottom, tilting her up to better receive him. His hips surged forward and slammed into hers, then violently withdrew and surged again. He pounded against her with the inescapable force of a violent storm, her body quivering and shaking beneath the force of his attack until she felt herself explode again in his arms. As her body clenched in sweet spasms around him, he groaned and his body suddenly drew into a rigid arch, his hips pumping as his body finished his dance of passion, and finally they were both still but for their heaving gasps and the slowly diminishing pounding of hearts.
His breathing was still harsh in her ear, but he lay on her like a big, warm blanket. Around them, the sounds of the meadow began to return. She stroked her hands down over the slick, solid muscles in his back and he shivered involuntarily, then lifted his head to look down at her. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice, dropping a gentle kiss on her lips.
“I’m fantastic.” She cupped his jaw in her hands, memorizing his features for a moment, then slipped them around his neck again.
His lips quirked, almost but not quite smiling. For long moments he continued to lie over her in a boneless contentment that she shared, but finally he lifted himself onto his arms and moved off her, easing out of her body onto his knees.
“Damn!”
She was startled out of her pleasant lassitude and she sat up hastily. “What’s wrong?”
He was easing himself back into his briefs and jeans, and he reached to one side and snagged her clothes, handing them to her. “Our enthusiasm must have been too strenuous for my protection,” he said, and there was an audible dismay in his voice. “It tore.”
“Oh.” She clutched her clothing to her while she considered. “It’s probably not a problem,” she said finally.
“Good.” His whole body relaxed.
Why should she feel so hurt by his reaction? Nobody wanted an unplanned pregnancy, and she certainly was no exception. A baby with a man she barely knew would be a disaster.
Seduction, Cowboy Style Page 8