Claimed by a Cowboy

by Tanya Michaels

  Beneath his brusque demeanor, some emotion had glimmered in Sam’s expression. Jealousy? Lorelei was dimly ashamed of how happy that possibility made her. She couldn’t help herself, though. The idea that Sam might want her felt really, really good.

  Because I want him.

  No matter what she’d told Tess or what logical reminders she gave herself, her unwise attraction to Sam had only grown this week, not diminished. And the idea of him leaving her here tonight, when they had so little time left together anyway…

  She put a hand on his arm. “Actually, I think calling it a night might be a good idea. This place is a little too crowded for me.” She cast a glance back at their table, where Tess and Emily were both giggling at something Brody had said.

  Sam’s expression was pained. “You don’t have to humor me. You should stay with them, enjoy yourself.”

  “But…” She stopped and took a steadying breath. Just do it.

  What did she have to lose? She and Sam were going to part ways soon so even if she abjectly humiliated herself in the next sixty seconds, it’s not as though it would have any bearing on the rest of her life. Except, of course, for the deep and painful emotional scars, she thought wryly. The words she wanted to say were risky—even knowing he had some physical attraction to her, she couldn’t know whether he’d reject her.

  He’d stilled, his body thrumming with a new tension she could practically hear, like the electricity currents running through power lines. He studied her with those green eyes that seemed to see more of her than anyone else had before. “But what, Lorelei?”

  “I don’t want to stay and ‘enjoy myself.’ I’d rather go back to the inn. And enjoy you.” The daring announcement might have been more effective if it hadn’t been delivered in a whisper.

  Then again, maybe not. Judging from the way Sam sucked in his breath, her words had definitely had an effect.

  “Lorelei.” Her name came out as a groan. And it had never sounded sexier. “You don’t belong with me. You deserve someone like him.” Sam jerked his chin in Brody’s general direction but never took his eyes off of her.

  Warmth unfurled inside her. That was his argument? Not a reminder that he wasn’t looking for any romantic complications in his life, just “you deserve…” Didn’t every woman deserve, at least once in her life, to be with a man who made her body tingle and her pulse race? A man who could make her forget how to breathe with his incomparable kisses?

  Emboldened, she took a step closer. “I know you don’t want a girlfriend. But do you want me? I’ll be gone soon, but for now… Let’s look at it as my being on vacation. Would a vacation fling really be so bad, something for us both to remember fondly after the inn is sold and we’ve both moved on from here?” He would come back, she was sure, but he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t put down roots.

  His dazed eyes were locked on her mouth and he was breathing more heavily. But he was obviously conflicted. “You just lost a parent. That’s enough to leave anyone emotionally vulnerable. I won’t take advantage of you,” he said raggedly.

  She grabbed hold of his black T-shirt, the cotton soft in her hands. “This isn’t about my being needy or being afraid to be alone, I swear. I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like. I’ve been—”

  The rest of her words were lost in his kiss. His mouth crushed hers, the intensity of his embrace proving that she hadn’t been the only one thinking about them together. Her fingers tightened on his shirt, and she arched into him, kissing him back for all she was worth.

  “You have got to be kidding me!” Barbara Biggins made a derisive, unladylike harrumphing noise. “Will you two just get a freaking room already?”

  Sam met Lorelei’s gaze, his words for her ears only. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

  AS LORELEI FIDDLED WITH the truck’s radio dial, Sam made a concerted effort not to floor the accelerator. A speeding ticket would delay their getting back to the inn. And his getting Lorelei into bed.

  His heart thumped in an irregular pattern as he tried to process what awaited him. For the past three days, it seemed as if he’d been fantasizing about her constantly. It was difficult to believe those fantasies were finally going to come true.

  She wants me? Didn’t she know she could do better than a cowboy with calloused hands and a couple of semesters of community college? With women like Barbara, he could understand the pursuit. It wasn’t about him as an individual, it was about the hunt. He’d garnered a reputation for being aloof; breaking through that would mean a woman had won. Even though he’d continue freely roaming the streets instead of having his head mounted on a wall, he’d still be little more than a trophy.

  But Lorelei hadn’t been pursuing him. She’d spent her first few days in town snapping at him. And if she’d wanted to seduce him, she wouldn’t have passed up a golden opportunity like the other night. When he’d turned the corner and found her dripping wet, with only a piece of terry cloth keeping her naked body from his sight… Sam’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel and he shifted uncomfortably, his jeans no longer the relaxed fit they’d been an hour ago.

  Say something. Making conversation might help distract him long enough to get blood to his brain. And talking to her seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do. It would be creepy to drive in silence for ten minutes, then pounce on her the minute they set foot in the B and B.

  “So, uh…” He cleared his throat. “They were pretty understanding about our bailing on the team.”

  They must have witnessed his and Lorelei’s kiss from the horseshoe-shaped booth. Emily had been gaping at them and Tess had been grinning from ear to ear. Sam had studiously avoided glancing toward Jenkins; he’d worried he wouldn’t be able to keep the smugness out of his expression and Lorelei was more than some conquest to gloat over.

  “Understanding?” Lorelei echoed. “Tess chased us away so fast you’d think she owed us money.”

  True. The redhead had no semblance of a poker face. For a moment, he’d actually thought she was going to admonish them to have fun but not to forget to use condoms. He frowned. It had been a while—did he have condoms? Nightstand. Thank goodness.

  In his peripheral vision, he noticed how lights from outside glinted off the jet buttons on her dress. The casual outfit—which stopped a couple of inches above her knees, hardly revealing—had been driving him nuts all night. In a bar of women wearing tight jeans and a few low-cut tops, he’d been obsessed with a flowing black dress with loose, elbow-length sleeves. Probably because it buttoned from just below the vee neckline straight down to the hem. He hadn’t been able to look at her once without thinking about unbuttoning. A few quick movements of nimble fingers, and she’d be—

  Lorelei leaned forward again and resumed messing with the radio stations.

  “Can’t find any songs you like?” he asked.

  “Nervous energy,” she confessed. “Guess I’m just looking for something to keep my hands occupied.”

  He had several suggestions. None of which were appropriate while he was operating a motor vehicle. By “nervous,” he hoped she didn’t mean she regretted her impulsive words at the bar. How did he let her know he understood if she changed her mind without making it sound as if he didn’t want her? Because he couldn’t recall wanting a woman this badly before.

  Moments later, they drove behind the inn. Sam squeezed the steering wheel. “You’re still good with this? I mean, if you were just caught up in the moment earlier…”

  She gave him a dumbfounded look. “Caught up in the moment? Sam, when I propositioned you, we were in the middle of a trivia game and you were stomping around like a grouchy bear. With that backdrop, you’re worried I was so overcome with lust that I talked myself into something I’ll regret?”

  “When you put it like that…” He unfastened his seat belt and re
ached for her, pulling her closer on the bench seat. She seemed startled but came into his arms.

  “You know, there are some comfy beds inside,” she teased, even as she tilted her face up for a kiss.

  He was stalling out here because it was too tempting to rush her into one of those beds. Sam had been around enough of the local vintners to hear lots of commentary on properly tasting wine. Talk of “bouquets” and “citrus tones” and “complexity” had always sounded a little pretentious to him. But after tonight, he might have a better appreciation for a slow, measured sensory approach because he truly wanted to savor Lorelei. He wanted to breathe her in and let her taste linger on his tongue. He wanted to close his eyes and lose himself in her.

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he kissed her thoroughly, deeply, but he didn’t hurry, letting the need build for both of them. She began wriggling in an unsuccessful attempt to get closer and making mmm sounds that were somewhere between a whimper and sigh. The only flaw in Sam’s plan to kiss her out in the truck and stoke the desire between them? In order to get inside, they would have to stop. He couldn’t bring himself to, not yet.

  He did move away from her mouth, though, sketching quick light kisses along her jaw before moving to the soft skin of her neck. When he nipped slightly just below her ear, she rewarded him with a low moan that had him as hard as a rock. He rubbed a thumb over her collarbone, then traced a deliberate line down into her cleavage before cupping a breast through the satiny fabric of her dress. She arched against his palm and Sam fumbled behind him for the door handle. As they slid out of the truck, he realized his truck windows were fogged up, as if they’d been a couple of high school kids parking. Not that Lorelei would ever have gone out with him when they were teenagers—they would have had nothing in common, and he suspected she’d been too busy trying to get into the right college.

  Well, we’re adults now. And tonight she was his.

  Holding her tucked in the crook of his arm, as if he couldn’t bear any distance between them, he steered them toward the door. They were already kissing again by the time the cat met them in the kitchen, meowing at them like some incensed chaperone, as if to say, And just what do you think you two are doing?

  “My room?” Sam asked.

  “Fine with me,” she murmured, her eyes glazed with need.

  At the top of the stairs, he scooped her up. Her arm went around his neck and she nuzzled his chest.

  “Don’t distract me or you might get dropped,” he warned. Did she have any idea how good she felt against him?

  He kicked the door shut behind them and righted her at the foot of the bed. He bent his head to kiss her but missed. She’d already dropped into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress. Looking up at him through her lashes, she reached for the top button of her dress. His mouth went dry.

  “I like that dress,” he said. “Do you know it has exactly nine buttons? I counted.”

  Her lips curved in a slow grin. “So that’s why I felt your eyes on me tonight, purely numerical interest?” She slid the first button free, then the second. By the time she reached the third, he realized it was a good thing she was unfastening them. His hands felt shaky.

  Luckily, his own shirt was simple to remove. He whipped it over his head, then reached for her, raising her to her feet with only half of the buttons undone. He tucked his fingers inside the gaping panels of fabric and shoved lightly. The material whispered down her body and pooled at her feet. She stood before him in sandals and a matching set of a black bra and panties. The lingerie was simple, but curves like hers didn’t need any extra embellishment to be mind-numbingly erotic.

  “Lorelei.” It felt like a prayer on his lips. He reached for her, kissing her hungrily. His hands were just as greedy, wanting to touch every inch of her warm skin. He skimmed over her back, down the graceful length of her spine to cup her butt, holding her closer as he rocked his hips into hers.

  She raked her fingernails across his chest, then toward the denim waistband of his jeans. His entire body tensed in anticipation. Finally, she brushed over his erection and Sam hissed a breath through grated teeth.

  “Gotta get out of these jeans,” he said.

  Instead of helping him, she kicked off her shoes and reclined across the bed, watching avidly. Seeing how clearly she desired him was nearly as powerful a turn-on as her touch had been.

  Stripped down to a pair of boxer briefs, he joined her on the bed. He drank in the sight of her then surprised them both by almost laughing.

  She propped herself up on an elbow. “What’s funny?”

  “You remember that day you went to the wine tastings? I came back and you were lying across the couch?” Her relaxed body had seemed so pliant and welcoming, her smile when she’d seen him so unrestrained. “At the time, I wondered what could possibly be sexier. But this is way better.”

  She ducked her gaze for a moment, incongruently shy after she’d shucked her clothes. “I’d been thinking of you all that afternoon. I could blame the wine, but…”

  “You remind me of wine.” He gently pushed her onto her back.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Say ‘full-bodied’ and die.”

  He ignored the crazy talk—her body was perfect—and kissed her neck. “You smell good,” he murmured against her skin. Like honeysuckle, only naughtier. “I detect floral notes,” he deadpanned.

  She chuckled but the amusement in her eyes dissolved into heat when he reached for the front clasp of her bra. He ran his thumb over the swell of her breast. “Pale, perfect color.” In ever narrowing circles, he swept his finger around her puckered nipple, listening to her breathing grow more frantic. He leaned over her breast, not touching but close enough that she could feel his breath. “And these remind me of berries. Exotic and—” he scraped his tongue over her “—delicious.”

  She writhed and Sam drew her into his mouth, lost. He’d wanted to woo her, but he had no words left now, only a need to touch her, to be inside her. By the time he eventually sheathed himself in a condom and thrust into the slickness of her, the only word he knew was her name.

  LORELEI WOKE UP SLOWLY as if she didn’t want to leave a particularly pleasant dream. She was exhausted and could tell even before she opened her eyes that it was still dark. Moonlight peeked through the blinds on the window, falling across Sam’s face. He looked utterly at peace and she grinned, glad to have done her part in relaxing him.

  When she tried to slide out from under his arm he made a small noise of protest and snuggled her closer into his bare chest. If she weren’t so thirsty, she probably could have happily stayed there for hours—days—on end. Come to think of it, though, she was hungry, too. Neither of them had eaten much at the bar and they’d left early. She should treat herself to something down in the kitchen—heaven knew they’d worked off some calories. They’d made love twice before falling asleep.

  He’d surprised her in bed. Monosyllable Man could be poetic when he was duly inspired. Also, for a man who seemed so intent on keeping control of his life—by keeping others at a distance—he’d had no trouble at all ceding control to her when they’d had sex. The second time, she’d wanted to set the pace. She’d explored his taut body before straddling him and guiding him into her.

  She bit her lip at the memory, thinking that if she didn’t hurry up and get out of this bed, she might not make it down to the kitchen for something to eat after all. Stepping over their discarded clothes, she headed into the bathroom and grabbed the robe off the brass hook. When she came back into the bedroom, Sam was gone.

  Like minds? She wondered. He had to have worked up an appetite, too.

  Downstairs, she found him pulling containers out of the refrigerator. She stopped in the doorway to admire the view of his ass in the form-fitting gray boxer briefs. Maybe food could wait after all.

  His
body stilled suddenly; she must have made a noise to give herself away. As he slowly turned toward her, he drawled, “You keep starin’, you’re gonna bore holes in me.”

  She laughed. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” It seemed like a long time ago, that night she’d come down here for a midnight snack and had ended up arguing with Sam about who should have the inn. Then, she couldn’t have imagined wanting to stay in town a day longer than absolutely necessary. And now? She would be sorry to leave.

  It wasn’t just the green-eyed cowboy and great sex she’d miss—although, right now, those topped the list. She was also enjoying the people and the food and the pace. Though she’d always claimed to love her job, she hadn’t realized how much it could drain her—the long hours, the stressing over whether a project was absolutely perfect, whether it would be enough to help her move ahead.

  That’s it, she decided in a flash of insight. As far back as she could remember, her life had been about moving. Moving past her dad’s death, moving out of Texas to go to school, moving to the top of her classes in college, moving ahead at work…

  When was the last time she’d simply stood still and enjoyed where she was? Savored the moment?

  “Lorelei?” He’d set the food on the counter and was studying her with naked curiosity. “You still with me?”

  “I’m here.” Here and now. And happy. But two in the morning didn’t seem like the time to share the revelation she’d just had. Besides, they’d been having a spectacular night. If she told him that suddenly she wasn’t so eager to return to life in Philly, he might worry that she’d recanted her “fling” philosophy and was looking for something more permanent. “I was just thinking about that night we ran into each other in the kitchen and you offered me cake.”