The Cowboy's Thirty-Day Fling

by Jenna Jacob

  “Eight o’clock,” he reminded.

  “Come over at seven thirty, and I’ll feed you breakfast.” She looked startled, as if the invitation had escaped of its own volition. “I mean…you can’t work on an empty stomach. You need to fuel your body, right?”

  Sawyer couldn’t help but smile at her sudden nervousness. Tracing a soothing finger down her soft cheek, he nodded. “Seven thirty it is.”

  He turned and started for the front door.

  “Wait!” Brea cried. Sawyer froze in place, then turned as she raced toward him and launched herself in his arms. Burying her face in his neck, she pressed her lips to his throat. “Stay. Please?”

  As shock pinged through him, Sawyer eased back and studied Brea intently. Hunger and uncertainty danced in her eyes. He didn’t know if she meant for him to stay five minutes or all fucking night. He could usually read women like a book, but not Brea. She gave him more mixed signals than a dyslexic football coach. But she’d given him secret passage to her fortress of towers and turrets, and Sawyer had every intention of treading lightly in order to keep it that way.

  Body taut and humming with need, he longed to stay and storm her castle. Spend hours putting a sated smile on her face. Sawyer knew how to seduce a woman a million different ways. Knew how to make them beg for the pleasure he was all too willing to give. But Brea wasn’t just any woman. And this wasn’t about plying her with pleasure—though he’d love to—this was about gaining Brea’s trust, putting her insecurities to rest, and god knows what else that lurked below her surface.

  Somehow he had to reinforce her confidence, show her the power she possessed, and do what he could to help her maintain that ridiculous man ban. Sure, it meant his short walk home was going to be a challenge of biblical proportions with a raging case of blue balls, but he’d do it to protect her damaged heart.

  “Sure. I can stay a little longer. Do you want to sit and talk some more?”

  “No. I want to do this.”

  Without warning, Brea’s mouth crashed against his. She melted over his lips like cotton candy. With a low growl, he sank a hand into her hair and took control of the kiss. Lost in the sweetness of Brea, he cursed the boundaries he’d just put on himself and dragged his lips along the gentle slope of her jaw. Brea tilted her head back, exposing her slender ivory canvas for him to paint with his lips, tongue, and the soft scrape of his teeth.

  It’s only a taste. I’ll stop with a taste, he told himself.

  “Oh, god.”

  Brea’s breathless plea, soaked in unadulterated lust, unraveled him to the bone.

  But when she slid her fingers into his free hand and led him up the stairs to her bedroom, Sawyer couldn’t find the strength, courage, or willpower to say no.

  Chapter Seven

  Brea

  * * *

  The instant she’d taken Sawyer’s hand, a devil popped up on one shoulder while an angel popped up on the other, then proceeded to fight like an old married couple in the throes of divorce.

  What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? the angel scolded.

  Get some! You know you want to. You deserve it. Weed and the rest of those losers never gave you free rein to take the lead. It’s about time you got some satisfaction for once, instead of always giving…giving head, money, and your ever-lovin’ soul to one douchebag after another. What did they ever give to you besides busting a nut inside you, then rolling over and start snoring? Sawyer’s nothing like those dipshits, and you damn well know it, harped the devil.

  Don’t do it! You’ll be sorry. He’ll break your heart. This is going to end in catastrophe.

  Aw, don’t listen to her. It’s just sex. You’ve already felt what he’s packin’ in those jeans. He wants you. Just think how good that enormous cock is going to feel, stretching and filling your poor, neglected pussy. You can either get down and dirty with that grade-A hunk of beef or wake up in the morning sticky and aching from another night of wet dreams.

  The devil’s cajoling had rendered her opposing angel speechless.

  Now that she was in her bedroom, alone with Sawyer, the initial courage she’d mustered when she’d asked him to stay was morphing into tendrils of doubt and winding through her system like vines…choking the breath from her bravery.

  If she hadn’t been so busy trembling, Brea would have laughed at the swell of panic and uncertainty wending through her system.

  As if sensing the manic emotions cresting inside her, Sawyer tenderly cupped her cheeks and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Darlin’, we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

  “No. I’m ready…it’s just…”

  “Feeling guilty about blowing your man ban to hell, again?”

  “Partly, yes. But that’s not the problem…I mean, there isn’t a problem, not really. It’s just that, I-I…” Lord, I’m stammering like a loon. Swallowing tightly, Brea yanked up her big-girl thong. “Do you love me?”

  Sawyer paled as if he’d seen a ghost as his eyes widened. His mouth opened, then snapped shut as if she’d just proposed marriage to a priest. “Love you?”

  The squeak of terror in his voice was equal parts priceless and hilarious, but Brea didn’t laugh, she simply nodded.

  “Yes. Do you love me?”

  “I…I’m sorry. If you’re looking for love…” His voice quivered as if the mere mention of the L word was dismembering him. “No, Brea. I’m not in love with you. Listen…maybe this isn’t such—”

  “No. Wait. I only have one more question.” She nervously licked her lips. “You won’t ask me to move in with you after we do this, will you?”

  “Move in with me?” he repeated, totally bewildered.

  She knew she was making a total fool of herself, and Sawyer was probably thinking she’d escaped from a psych ward without her Thorazine, but Brea had to have some guarantees before climbing into bed to fuck Sawyer from her system.

  “No. I prefer to live alone. Look, Brea…I’m not looking for—”

  “Good. I’m not either,” she cut him off and lifted to her toes. Biting back a grin at his puzzled gaze, Brea kissed him. “Sorry about all the questions. I hope I haven’t ruined the mood, but I had to make sure this wasn’t going to lead to… Never mind.”

  Sawyer might think her a nutjob, but he’d given Brea the guarantees she needed to keep from repeating her usual destructive habits. Since he didn’t love her and didn’t want her to move in with him, Brea could enjoy what would undoubtedly be the most amazing sex of her life, with the fantasy man of her dreams. But best of all, she could walk away unscathed when they were through.

  The thought of holding all that power made her feel bold, brave, and undeniably free.

  Leaning in, she cupped his nape and kissed him. But Sawyer’s lips were like iron, his body rigid as steel. He was probably trying to determine if she was full-on bonkers like the Bigfoot hunter in town or only slightly wacky.

  Suddenly, as if he’d arrived at an answer, Sawyer took full control of the kiss.

  His forceful command had her heart pounding double time. Their tongues swirled and circled while the bristles framing his face scraped her skin. She was enveloped in the decadent heat and manly scent of his body, and the dark, empty places within began shrinking away.

  Tossing her inhibitions aside, Brea drew his hand to her breast. Cupping his fingers, she squeezed, coaxing him to knead her heavy orbs. He didn’t disappoint.

  “Mercy.” His voice was strained and hoarse. “We’re going to have more than little stress-relieving fun…we’re going to have a lot of it.”

  Mischief glittered his gold and emerald eyes. Brea wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t lost in the splendor of another wet dream. She wasn’t. Sawyer was real and standing in her bedroom, in the flesh, with his capable hand kneading her breast.

  “How much is a lot?”

  “Watch and feel, darlin’…just watch and feel,” he drawled, teeming with confidence.

  Her b
ody tightened and tingled with anticipation. Leaving one hand massaging and toying with one breast, Sawyer lifted the other, paying equal attention to both. And as Sawyer held her with an erotic, hypnotic gaze, heat rolled up Brea’s body.

  Moaning softly, she palmed his cheek. The prickly scruff scraped her flesh. She could easily imagine the feel of those whiskers gliding up between her thighs. As Sawyer teased her pebbled nipples with his thumb, Brea closed her eyes and purred.

  “You’ve got too many clothes on,” he whispered.

  “So do you.”

  “I think we should remedy the situation, don’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she agreed in a sultry drawl.

  Brea reached for the buttons of his shirt as Sawyer’s jaw clenched.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah,” he groaned. “I’m trying like hell not to rip your clothes to shreds, toss you on the bed, and mount you like a Brahma bull.”

  Brea’s nerve endings lit up like a laser show. “What’s stopping you?”

  “Because I aim to do a lot more than fuck you. I’m going to crawl deep inside your pretty little soul.”

  No. That’s not part of the deal.

  She opened her mouth to argue, but Sawyer stole the words off her tongue with another passionate kiss. As he burnished the tips of her breasts with his thumbs, each agonizing stroke promised endless hours of blissful torture and had her hormones cheering like the pep club at a homecoming parade.

  “Undress me, Brea,” Sawyer whispered. “I need to feel your hands on me.”

  Her fingers trembled as she began freeing the buttons of his shirt. When she finished, the fabric fell open and she stilled, drinking in every ridge and plane of his sculpted chest. His faded jeans hung low on his hips, and her eyes were drawn to the heart-stopping V etched along his hips and the happy trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the button of his jeans.

  Brea grew light-headed knowing all that male splendor would soon be hers. Well, at least for tonight. Pressing her palms against his hot, velvety flesh, she felt his muscles quiver as he sucked in a hiss. Taking her time, Brea read his body like a book of braille, memorizing each ridge and plane in the book of Sawyer.

  He plucked and rolled her throbbing nipples as she grew restless and frustrated with the fabric separating the flesh of his fingers.

  “I need,” she panted, “you to get my damn clothes off.”

  “When I’m ready.”

  “But I’m ready now,” she whimpered.

  He simply smiled and slowly shook his head. “I’m warming you up proper.”

  “You warm me up further and I’m going to burst into flames.”

  “I like the sound of that. Burn for me, darlin’,” he murmured in a rough and gravelly voice.

  Seemingly content right where he was, he mercilessly teased and tormented her sensitive peaks while laving his tongue up her neck, along her jaw, and behind her ear before claiming her lips again.

  Brea couldn’t take it anymore. She was melting from the inside out.

  “Dammit, Sawyer. What are you waiting for? I’m dying! Get off my nipples! Strip out of those jeans and get inside me.”

  As he slowly lifted from her lips, Brea’s frustration spiked even higher. But when he cocked his head and pinned her with a look of warning, she melted even more.

  “I’m not waiting for anything, darlin’. If this is too much for you, say the word, and I’ll kiss you good-night.”

  “What happened to riding me like a Brahma bull?”

  “All in good time.” He chuckled.

  She might have tossed her man ban out the fucking window, but Sawyer wasn’t stealing her control. Brea was finally in charge now. In charge of her life, her body, and her destiny.

  If she let Sawyer set the pace, it would be sunrise before she had the chance to drink in all his naked glory. And drink him in she would, from the top of his silky copper hair, down his buff body to his masculine toes…and every throbbing, swollen inch between.

  It was time to take the bull by the horns and dish out what she was taking. Gripping his shoulders, she leaned in and flicked the tip of her tongue over one of his tight bronze nipples. Sawyer tensed and growled as Brea savored the salty taste tingling her tongue.

  “Are you trying to kill me or just have your way with me?”

  “Turnabout is fair play, cowboy.”

  As she paid homage to his other nipple, Sawyer hissed out a curse. Hearing him suffering the way she had made her smile against his flesh. Lifting to her toes, she peeled the shirt off his wide shoulders. Sawyer grudgingly released her throbbing nipples long enough to shuck the fabric from his arms and send it floating to the floor before cupping her breasts again.

  Brea suddenly didn’t care how long he wanted to torment her buds; she was too busy memorizing the sight of his decadent torso. She wanted to weep at the sheer perfection of his sun-kissed skin and sculpted muscles. Sawyer was a living, breathing work of art. If his top half was this stunning, she couldn’t wait to see what awaited her beneath his jeans.

  Unable to keep from touching him, Brea traced her fingertips over the swells and dips along his shoulders and collarbones, dragging them lightly down the center of his chest, delighting in the heat warming her flesh and the feel of his muscles quivering and bunching.

  Clearly, Sawyer wasn’t any more immune to her than she was to him.

  Emboldened by that knowledge, Brea swirled the tip of her tongue around his flat nipple again. He let out a low growl, then bent and repaid her torment by nipping at one bud. An arc of pain-mixed-pleasure spread outward. The new sensation was surreal and sublime. She captured his nipple between her teeth and lashed it with her tongue.

  Crying out a curse, Sawyer pried her from his chest and reared back. Sparks of need flashed in his eyes and his nostrils flared.

  Oh, yeah. She’d gotten his attention, all right, maybe more than she intended

  “Are you trying to make me lose my head?”

  “No.” She flashed him a saucy smile. “I’m just returning the favor.”

  “And what favor is that?” He smirked.

  “You’ve made me suffer for days now.”

  “Oh, I have, have I? In what way…exactly?”

  “In every way. Everything about you is…decadent, delicious, and tempting.”

  “I can say the very same about you.” A cocky grin speared his lips. “Maybe it’s time we do something about this mutual suffering. What do you say?”

  “I thought that’s where we were headed, but you’re moving so cotton-pickin’ slow I’m beginning to wonder if we’re ever going to make it to the bed.”

  “Slow? I’m moving too slow?”

  Brea nodded as her lips curled at his incredulous tone.

  “Relax, darlin’. You’ll be begging and pleading soon enough. I promise.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  He arched his brows and grinned. “You doubt my abilities?”

  “Not one bit. That’s why I’m so damn anxious.”

  A low chuckle rumbled up from deep in his chest. This playful bedroom banter was all new to her, but Brea liked it…liked it a lot.

  “Settle your sexy ass down. I’m going to make you shatter so hard and so often your hot little body will be quivering for days…weeks…maybe even months.”

  The prospect of death by orgasm had her quivering. Biting back a grin, she jerked up her chin and looked him square in the eyes. “Prove it.”

  His confident grin screamed, Challenge accepted. Without a word, Sawyer shucked the cotton tee off over her head and tossed it to the floor. His gaze locked onto her pink bra trimmed in white lace as he licked his lips. Focused on the demi-cups barely covering her nipples, Sawyer’s breath grew ragged. She skimmed a gaze at the bulky package beneath his jeans and knew he was equally ready to get this provocative party started.

  “Do you want me to take my bra off, or would you rather—”

  “Bite it off with my teeth?”r />
  “Or…that will work, too.” Her little laugh drew his attention back to her face before he flashed her a body-throbbing grin.

  “On second thought…you take it off for me, darlin’. Take everything off. One piece at a time…nice and slow.”

  Well, hell. That certainly backfired on me.

  Brea had never stripped for a man. There’d never been time. They always pawed her clothes off in a rush to get between her legs. The thought of revealing herself for Sawyer’s inspection felt far more intimate than sex itself.

  As she slid one strap of her bra to the elbow, she felt as if she were peeling away her own layers of protection. And when she had finally worked the garment free and sent it puddling at her feet, Sawyer held her gaze. He didn’t ogle her tits or grab one and stuff it in his mouth like a slobbering dog. He simply delved deeper into her eyes, drawing out every vulnerability, weakness, and fear inside her.

  Brea had never felt more naked or unsure of herself. But then Sawyer did something that restored her courage and her faith in male-kind; he smiled and opened his arms, then protectively hugged her to his steely chest.

  Suddenly, Ozzie started barking. It wasn’t the usual alarm when a squirrel violated the lawn. No, these were loud, frightening, rip-your-jugular-open kinds of barks that made the hairs stand up all over her body.

  “What is he—”

  “Something’s wrong. Stay here,” Sawyer commanded.

  Reaching down, he scooped his shirt off the floor and hastily pulled it on. She wasn’t going to stand there like a stump while Sawyer faced potential danger alone. After scooping up her bra, Brea hurried and retrieved her shirt, putting them both back on as if the house were on fire. Sawyer crept toward the door, his head cocked as if listening for signs of an intruder. When he reached for the knob, she bent in close to his ear.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No! Stay up here. Lock the door behind me and don’t leave until I come back for you. Got it?”

  “No. I’m not a helpless little—”