He didn’t appear to notice the intimate contact as he preceded her into the kitchen, and Katelyn wondered what law of physics applied when the already cozy room suddenly seemed to grow smaller as his tall, broad frame strolled inside. She hadn’t forgotten how handsome he was, but she had thought time and the stern talks she’d had with herself since yesterday would dull the sharp edge of her interest.
She pulled her gaze away and sighed. Even from the back, or maybe especially from that perspective, she was achingly aware of every masculine muscle stretching his T-shirt and of the round, taut buttocks his jeans revealed. It just wasn’t fair. Coming or going he was too delicious to ignore.
He cleared his throat, and she blushed again because she realized he’d tried to draw her attention to something he’d said.
“I beg your pardon?”
He glanced over his shoulder, the corners of his lips curving in a slight smile “Cups?” he repeated.
“Oh, yeah.” She walked to the cupboard and took down two, handing them to him. He poured coffee, and she busied herself looking for sugar, creamer, and spoons. She needn’t have bothered. It turned out they both liked theirs black.
They stood awkwardly, leaning against the counters, sipping from their cups. She looked anywhere but at him, certain she’d betray her thoughts if their gazes connected. Memories of how he’d held her while she’d orgasmed simmered at the surface of her thoughts. Never had she been so at a loss for words. She was aware of every move he made, of the smell of his aftershave, and the way he too avoided looking directly at her.
Perhaps he regretted their intimacy.
Her stomach sinking, she realized she’d been hoping for more all along—more of his kisses, more of the sexy rumble of his voice as he’d coaxed her into opening to him. She wanted to know the sensation of his mouth on her breasts and of his cock thrusting inside her.
She’d dressed especially for him this morning. The soft pink T-shirt a deliberately feminine choice. Would he remember the last time he’d seen her in pink? Tucked into the waist of an ancient pair of faded blue jean cutoffs, the T-shirt clung to the curves of her breasts.
When she’d dressed that morning, she’d called herself every kind of fool, worrying about what she wore and wondering if he’d approve of what he saw. She’d been too bold, dispensing with her bra for the day.
Earlier, she’d reasoned the heat would make wearing one unbearable. A glance in the mirror that morning had assured her the T-shirt didn’t fit too snugly.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t taken into consideration her reaction to this man. While she held her breath, trying to think of a way to break the uncomfortable silence, her nipples drew tight, the points visible beneath the fabric. Embarrassed, she hunched her shoulders and plucked at the fabric to ease the fit. Glancing up, she caught him before he could avert his gaze from her chest.
Fascinated by his reaction, she watched him cross and uncross his legs, and then take a long swallow of his coffee. His eyes teared up, and she guessed he’d burned his tongue.
She pressed her lips together to suppress a feline smile of triumph. He’d noticed the tips straining against her T-shirt, and his gaze had clung—and he was bothered.
The blush on his cheeks as he grimaced through another sip of the scalding coffee somehow reassured her. His reticence pleased her.
He set down his cup on the counter. “I better get started outside, ma’am.”
“Mr. Bodine?” she said, keeping her voice soft.
“Yes, ma’am?”
She raised her gaze to his. “Don’t you think it’s a little silly for us to be so formal? Please call me Katelyn.”
He released a long breath and nodded solemnly. “And I’d be pleased if you’d call me Daniel.” Without waiting for a response, he went out the back door.
His haste to get away had her grinning.
Katelyn went to work as well. She’d managed to unpack the last of the boxes, but there was still a lot of a lot of cleaning to do. The windows alone would likely take until the weekend to complete. They were covered with dirt and grime, and many wouldn’t open.
Gathering her cleaning supplies, she headed outside to begin her self-assigned task. She didn’t question why she needed to start on the exterior of the windows. She was resigned to the fact she needed to be near her handsome handyman.
For the next few hours, she savored her awareness of his presence as they both labored. Pausing, she saw him wipe a hand across his forehead. His damp shirt stuck to his broad back. She put down her scrub brush and realized she was just as soaked with sweat. She went into the house, enjoying the blast of cool air, and hastily poured two tall glasses of iced tea.
Carrying one in each hand, she went out to the porch. “Daniel, would you like a glass of tea?” She held out a glass to him, and he stood to accept it. Once again, she was intensely aware of the height and breadth of the man. Her breath caught.
“Thanks, I could use a break. The heat’s a killer today.”
Murmuring her agreement, she tilted back her head for a long sip. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her. His gaze slid away, but not before she noted the tightening of his jaw.
“It’s very warm,” she drawled.
He finished his drink and set the glass down, his eyes narrowing on her.
“Would you like another?” she asked.
His gaze swept down her body, and he swallowed. “Not right now,” he said, his voice thick, “but thanks.” He picked up his hammer and a couple of nails and went back to work.
With a spring in her step, she went back to her chores as well.
*
Chipping away at paint that glued one window to its casing, her gaze returned to the porch for the hundredth time that day. Only now, Daniel was drawing his shirt over his head, baring his broad back and tapered waist. His skin was tanned, and the ridged muscles rippled as he shouldered several long planks.
Her mouth grew dry, and her belly tightened. God, how she wanted him. If the sideways glances he’d given her throughout the day were any indication, he felt the same way. Their sly appraisals of each other felt like foreplay, building a slow heat that threatened to flicker into flame with the slightest encouragement.
Realizing the direction of her thoughts, she berated herself. She should be ashamed. She was in full-blown lust over a man she didn’t even know. The last thing she needed was another man in her life, especially when she hadn’t completely shed herself of the last one. She was a fool to stand here drooling over a cowboy.
Placing the tip of the screwdriver into the corner where window met the casing, she pounded the end with a hammer, working her way along the corner to free the window. She continued to pound away her frustration, until she felt a hand at her shoulder. Startled, she whipped around. Daniel stood behind her.
“Let me see if I can get that open for you.”
She moved away, and he grabbed the window to push it up. His jaw tightened, and his forearms bulged. With a crack, the paint gave, and he shoved it upward.
Grinning, he looked back at her. She knew she must have looked like a deer in the headlights, but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the broad, bare chest that stretched endlessly in front of her eyes.
“Need help with anything else?” he drawled.
The gravelly texture of his voice drew her attention upward. Her heart pounded as she read the intent in his expression. His face drew near hers.
The kiss was light. His lips rubbed softly against hers, never opening. It wasn’t a carnal kiss. It was sweetly innocent and exploring. Her hands rose to rest against his damp chest, and she felt a ripple of response as the muscles tightened and flexed beneath her caress.
She rose on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss, but his head lifted. The look he gave her held a solemn promise. She didn’t know how to interpret it, and was more confused than ever when he backed away and returned to the porch to pry loose another board.
Why had he stopped? Her husband
had never kissed her with just his lips, and his kisses always led to sex. Was she confused because she didn’t understand Daniel’s intent or because she wanted more? The last thing I should need is another man in my life, especially one who could have his choice of any woman he wants.
Late afternoon, she stopped to make sandwiches for them both and delivered the meal on a tray with drinks. She sat opposite him on the porch steps and barely glanced his way while they ate. The strain of the hard physical work, as well as her efforts to ignore her clamoring hormones, had finally left her tired enough to relax next to him and just enjoy the sight of his naked, glistening chest.
He cleared his throat, drawing her gaze upward. “There’s a dance Saturday night.” He looked away and shrugged. “It’s an annual thing to raise money for the volunteer fire department. I’d like to take you.”
Startled, she didn’t reply immediately.
She guessed he thought she was trying to find some way to turn him down gently, because he said next, “I know I’m doin’ things a little backwards, and I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable. If I promise to keep my hands to myself, will you let me take you?”
She studied his face. He was handsome, yes. But his gaze met hers directly. He didn’t push. He didn’t try to seduce her with honeyed words. She realized he was nothing like her husband. And she liked that little bit of uncertainty he betrayed. She wanted to say yes and see whether this gentle man was everything he seemed.
But would it be fair to Daniel? She should say no for more reasons than the obvious one. I should tell him now. But she demurred, not wanting to mention a name that would only make another’s presence tangible—her husband wasn’t a part of her life now. She wouldn’t let him be, ever again. “Can’t we just go on the way we are?” she asked, feeling like a coward.
“And what way is that, Katelyn?” he asked softly.
“Just us.” Her hand settled on his arm and glided to his shoulder. “Just this.”
His jaw tightened, and he ducked his head. “You mean,” he said, his voice just as soft, but with a bite that raised the hairs on her arm, “I’m good enough to play with, but not to be seen with you in public?”
Shocked by the blunt words spoken so quietly, she shook her head and blurted, “We haven’t played yet.” Jesus, I just said that! She bolted to her feet.
His hand wrapped around her ankle, holding her in place. His expression was set, his eyes narrowing. “That’s right. We haven’t.” His hand slid up the inside of her leg. “Why wait? It’s what we both want.”
Chapter Four
‡
Inside, Katelyn screamed, That’s not what I meant! But she didn’t draw away when his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her cutoffs and stroked her pussy through her panties. Her mouth opened around a gasp as molten desire seeped to dampen the silky fabric.
“Want it here? In the sunlight?” he asked, rising to his knees on the top step. His fingers pushed aside the crotch of her underwear and traced the furrow between her labia.
Moisture pooled—in her eyes and between her legs. She didn’t want his anger, didn’t want anything to mar the beauty of the feelings growing secretly inside her. Didn’t he understand she was doing this for him? “I’m too old for you, Daniel,” she said, surprised by the quaver and the breathless quality of her own voice.
He leaned forward and hooked one hand around the back of one thigh, pulling her hips closer and glided his lips up the tender inside of her leg. “Looks like you’re old enough,” he murmured and sank a finger inside her.
Her legs trembled, and she gripped his shoulders. “What will people think? I’m old enough to be your m—”
“Aunt?” He gently bit her skin. “Don’t stretch the truth.”
Her hands gripped his hair to bring him closer to the ache. “For God’s sake, I’m forty-one years old, Daniel.”
He paused, and his gaze lifted to sear hers. “I don’t give a fuck, Katelyn. I’m not exactly a boy.” Then he snaked his tongue beneath her shorts to lick at her sex.
Katelyn moaned and widened her legs. “This is wrong. You know it,” she said, swaying on her feet at the lazy strokes he plied her with. “I’m not what you need.”
He lapped her, the broad surface of his tongue skimming her lips, the tip insinuating between to tease her with glancing caresses that drove her crazy and had her squirming against him.
When he dragged himself away, his breaths were ragged. “You are everything I want,” he said, his voice fierce. His expression was set, his gaze unwavering.
She believed him. He meant it—now.
His hands gripped her upper thighs, his thumbs stroking beneath her clothing. He leaned into her crotch and mouthed her through the fabric, his steamy breath penetrating to heat her already molten core. “Jesus, Katelyn.” He groaned and pressed his face to her belly. “Take your pants off, ’cause I’m gonna eat you right here.”
The coarseness of his command and the hard grip of his hand thrilled her like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life. She stared at him, knowing that once again the pause was for her sake. He’d given her control.
She could deny him now—end this before she sank any deeper toward a love that might leave scars on both their hearts. Or she could take a chance.
Katelyn drew in a deep breath and looked out over her dusty, rugged front yard. She saw beyond the scrubby live oaks standing still as she was in a breezeless, sun-scorched day, to the sky as blue and wide-open as her possibilities—and reached for the button at the top of her cutoffs.
Daniel held his breath while Katelyn fought an internal battle that had her lips alternately tightening and trembling. Her gaze was on the horizon, and he wished like hell she’d just look at him—see him and everything he could be for her—if only she’d trust him just a little.
When she reached for the top of her shorts, his body grew still. A blush stained her cheeks and neck, and her lips firmed with a determination that filled him with pride. She was so damn beautiful and brave, it hurt his heart to watch.
Daniel didn’t know how he knew, but his gut told him this was new for Katelyn. Standing in the sunshine with a man at her feet, baring herself slowly to the light and his gaze. He’d seen her hesitation, the flare of panic widening her eyes, when he’d issued the command.
He’d heard her shocked gasp when he’d licked the feminine folds between her legs—and knew she’d never been pleasured like that before. Forty-one years old and never loved by a man—not like he was going to love her now.
Her shorts slithered to the floor, and she hesitated, her fingers at the top of her panties. Her gaze met his, worry and modesty creasing her brow.
“Don’t stop now, Katelyn,” he urged her gently.
“Must it be here?” she asked, her voice thin and little high.
His body urged him to say no—he’d take her on her bed, the floor, the cab of his pickup truck—just so he could taste her, fill her. But instinct told him he needed her broken down a bit, gentled to his command—if he was going to make her his forever. “Take ’em off now.”
She swallowed hard, and her gaze dropped, but she slid the panties down her long, slender thighs. When she stepped away from them, her hands fluttered by her sides, like she wanted to cover herself. He wasn’t about to let her hide from his gaze.
He lifted his hand to the sparse, dark blonde hair that covered her sex. She held herself still, her chest rising and falling with her shallow breaths. He combed his fingers through her curls, all the while watching her face. “That pretty pink T-shirt too, sweetheart.”
Her eyebrows drew together in a look of pure irritation, but she yanked the T-shirt up.
Then without waiting for her to finish, he gripped her buttocks and pulled her close.
She yelped, and the T-shirt slapped his back, but he was already tongue-deep inside her, his thumbs spreading her lips wide while he swirled as deep as he could reach.
Her fingers clutched his hair hard, a
nd her whole body quivered like a nervous filly. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just clutched him close and seeped sweet honey onto his tongue.
He licked higher and rubbed the flat of his tongue on the hood covering the hard kernel of her clit.
Katelyn moaned, a thin sound that gusted with her gasps as he sucked and swirled.
She was close, her pussy tightening and relaxing, pulsing faster and faster. With his thumb and forefinger, he lifted the hood, exposing the bright pink knot and closed his lips around it, sucking hard.
Katelyn cried out, and her knees buckled.
He held her tight and pressed his face against her belly. “Easy now.”
A soft sob racked her body. “Please, Daniel. I can’t stand it.”
“Lie down here,” he said, and helped her lie on the edge of the porch while he scooted down the steps. He placed her legs on his bare shoulders and stroked her glistening flesh, parting her to take a good look. “You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t talk—I might change my mind,” she said, moaning the last words as he opened her wide with his fingers and lapped her with his tongue.
“First time a woman’s ever asked me not to talk,” he murmured. He decided to give her pretty pussy something to swallow and slipped two fingers inside.
Katelyn’s hips rose off the porch. “I didn’t think men had cunnilingus in their vocabulary,” she said gasping.
“It sure ain’t in mine either, but it’s not gonna stop me from eating you out.” He licked the pink petals of her tender inner lips, taking the cream her body offered while his fingers fucked in and out of her tight, hot cunt.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said, her hands reaching to grip his hair.
Ride a Texas Cowboy Page 4