The Cowboy's Honor

by Amy Sandas

  Sensing her reticence, he gently rolled them both until she was beneath him once again, her leg now hooked over his hip, his hand still wrapped around her thigh just below the curve of her buttock. The difference was that now, instead of feeling his hard length against her belly, she felt it there, between her legs.

  He met her gaze, his expression tense and beautiful, as he gave a gentle roll of his hips.

  She gasped and gripped his shoulders at the heady, silken glide of his flesh along her outer folds. Holding her leg high against his side, he repeated the motion. Her body responded with slick heat as she dropped her head back.

  The feel of him there—the smooth, rigid intention, the delicious, aching promise—stoked the flames of passion burning inside her.

  He gave another thrust along the entrance to her body and she moaned, her fingers digging into the muscles of his arms.

  Lowering his head beside hers, he scattered light kisses along the crest of her shoulder as he shifted to ease his hand between their bodies. She held her breath while he explored past the patch of curls to glide his fingers over her swollen flesh. The first delicate stroke of his rough fingers had her senses spinning in a thousand directions. All at once she was hit with the scent of his skin, the taste of his sweat when she lifted her head to place an openmouthed kiss on his throat, the sound of their ragged breath, and the feel of him—his masculine weight covering her while his attentive fingers teased her with pleasures she had no idea existed.

  “Jesus, Courtney, I want you so bad it hurts.” His voice was gruff and heavy, as though the effort to speak was almost too much.

  Courtney understood. She couldn’t manage to form words necessary to make a response. Instead, she met his mouth with hers, open and hot. Her tongue sought his while she arched and twisted beneath him.

  Accepting her silent urging, he eased a finger inside her. The intrusion felt strange and wonderful. He started to stroke a gentle rhythm, making her low belly tighten as her breath grew swift and shallow.

  Kissing her deeply, he withdrew his finger to circle his slick fingertip over her clitoris. The rhythmic motion over the swollen collection of nerves coaxed delicious new sensations as her body drew taut beneath him.

  With her breath catching in fitful gasps against his lips, he pressed two fingers into her. The gentle stretch and increased pressure nearly undid her, and she tucked her heated face into the curve of his throat, murmuring nonsense against his skin.

  Then his fingers left her as he centered his hips between her thighs. The smooth head of his erection was poised against her core.

  “Hold on to me,” he muttered thickly.

  Courtney opened her eyes to meet his beautifully intent gaze and wrapped her arms around his neck. Then he started to press forward, parting her swollen flesh, slowly easing into her tense and wanting body.

  “If it hurts too much, I’ll stop.”

  “No,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”

  Though the sensation of being stretched, filled, was singular and new, it was pleasurable in a way she hadn’t expected. The intimacy of the act reached deep into her soul and wrapped around her heart. In his arms, she felt awakened. As his body took possession of hers, she claimed him as well, adjusting and softening to take him in.

  When it seemed as though he couldn’t go any further, he paused.

  Courtney released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he kissed her, slowly and deeply. And he kept kissing her as he withdrew from her in a tantalizing glide of his hardness along her inner flesh. When he was poised once again at her entrance, he swept his tongue into her mouth, stoking her internal fire, increasing her breathless need.

  Then another press forward, faster this time, more insistent, and when he reached the point where he couldn’t go any further, he didn’t stop. With a powerful thrust, he broke past the barrier of her virginity.

  Courtney arched her neck at the sudden pain, breaking from his kiss with a harsh gasp.

  He dropped kisses along her jaw and murmured soothing words until the initial discomfort began to fade, leaving behind a gentle burning that was not altogether unpleasant.

  When she sought his mouth to kiss him back, he responded with a small movement of his hips, just a shallow, gentle rocking. The feeling inside was lovely and deep. He repeated the movement, and tiny points of pleasure sparked to life. Bending her knees, she lifted her legs around his hips.

  With a heavy sound escaping his throat, he pulled himself almost completely free of her before pressing forward in a long, slow thrust that stopped her breath. The power of his full possession, the pleasure in her complete acceptance of him was overwhelming.

  She wanted more.

  With a tilt of her hips, she told him so.

  He answered immediately. Withdrawing and reclaiming. Over and over until their bodies were slicked with sweat, and gasps and moans filled the room. Courtney clung to him, moved with him. She arched and tugged and drew from him. As the pleasure built higher, the need grew wider and deeper. Sensation was alive everywhere, but especially inside.

  The tingling sparks became roaring flames that could no longer be contained. She could not stop the rigid tensing of her body, not even to catch her breath. In an instant, the pleasure burst free, taking over her body, her awareness, the entire universe in a dancing sweep of light and vibration.

  Dean held her through the onslaught, keeping a steady pace of thrust and retreat that prolonged her pleasure through multiple waves of release.

  Then, as the final wave crested, he tensed. His breath caught on a guttural moan, and his body pulsed within her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Dean didn’t think he’d ever be able to move again.

  Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

  He’d never experienced anything like what he’d just felt with the woman lying beneath him.

  He was probably crushing her, but he didn’t have the strength yet to lift himself away from her warmth. And she didn’t seem to mind, if the way her arms and legs were still wrapped around him gave any indication.

  He was glad he’d been able to bring her pleasure.

  No, more like downright thrilled. He had been worried about disappointing her, worried that her virginity would make it difficult for her to enjoy the experience. But there had been no way to miss the moment she reached her climax. All inhibition had been swept away. Pleasure was evident in every gorgeous line of her face, every gasp of her breath. Her reaction had been pure and unconstrained. It had been a stunning sight to behold.

  A stunning sight that sent him flying over the edge himself.

  After several deep inhalations, he gathered enough strength to drag himself to the empty space on the bed beside her. But that was all he managed. Collapsing facedown on the pillow, he left one arm flung wide across her midriff and one leg still slung over hers.

  She sighed and turned her head toward him with a sleepy smile.

  “Thank you,” she murmured as her eyelids fell over her green gaze and her smile slid away on a slow breath.

  For what? he wanted to ask, but his brain was too muddled to form the words out loud. He fell asleep before another thought could even take its place.

  * * *

  When Dean next opened his eyes, it was to discover that the sun was already high and bright in the sky. He rose from the bed in a rush and started to dress.

  He hadn’t slept past dawn since he was a kid.

  What the hell could have knocked him out like that?

  He froze in place, his hands gripping hard on the leather of one of his boots.

  Shit.

  He spun back to the bed.

  Empty.

  But the room still smelled like her. Sweet and fresh with a hint of something that made him think of fire in the night.

  Hi
s body tightened in an instant, but he shoved aside the swift rise of lust. As much as he might have liked to, he didn’t have time to indulge in the sensual memories of what had transpired in that bed the night before.

  There was work to be done.

  He finished dressing in a hurry. His hat had gotten kicked under the bed at some point, so it took him a minute longer than he wished to find the thing. Setting it on his head, he left his bedroom and went downstairs.

  Jimena must have been cooking for a while already because the house smelled of sweet bread and cinnamon. He saw no sign of Courtney as he made his way to the kitchen, and with an odd clench of his gut, he figured she must have gone back to her own bedroom last night.

  But then he recalled vague memories of her slim body curled up beside him through the night and her warm breath bathing his skin with the steady rhythm of sleep.

  No, she’d stayed in his bed all night.

  She must have slipped away in the early morning.

  He stepped into the kitchen, hoping to grab a quick bite of whatever Jimena had made and take it to the barn with him. At the sight of Courtney bending over to reach inside the hot oven, he came to a sudden stop.

  Her hair had been twisted into a bun at her nape, and she was dressed in a pale-yellow frock with white trim covered by one of Jimena’s serviceable aprons.

  He watched as she withdrew a pan from the oven, holding it carefully with a thick, quilted mitt. Setting it atop the stove, she bent forward to take a long sniff of the sweet-smelling bread.

  “If that tastes half as good as it smells, Jimena’s outdone herself.”

  She turned around with a startled jump, her eyes wide, the pan nearly going flying in the process. She righted the pan before she removed the mitt and pushed her hair back from her face. Then she turned to him again with flushed cheeks and a smile. “Good morning.”

  Though she hid it well, Dean could see her nervousness. It might have been so easy to detect because it matched his own.

  Facing her this morning, after the intense night they’d shared felt strange and unexpected. Unexpected, because he wanted nothing more than to grasp her around the waist, toss her over his shoulder, and carry her right back upstairs to start it all over again.

  “Actually,” she continued, “I made the pan dulce this morning. Jimena mentioned yesterday that she would not be able to come to the house today.”

  Dean arched a brow. Jimena always came up to the main house when the bunkhouse was full.

  “I hope that is all right,” she added with a tilt of her head.

  “Sure. It’s fine.”

  “Would you like me to fry up some eggs for you? And there is a slab of bacon I can cook up—”

  “No,” he said curtly. “I’ll just grab some bread and coffee before heading out.”

  “Oh.” Her chin dropped a notch, but just for a second before it came right back up again. “I imagine you have work to get to.”

  Dean frowned. He could see her disappointment and felt a need to explain. “There’s always work to do.”

  There was a pause before she replied, “Yes, of course.” She turned back to the pan of sweet bread. “I will just wrap a few of these up for you. The coffee is hot. You can pour yourself a cup if you’d like.”

  He stood there for a moment watching as she moved about his kitchen.

  Her dress was a near match to the yellow-painted walls, but Courtney Adams-Lawton was not the kind of woman who could ever be at risk of blending into her surroundings. Her natural vibrancy wouldn’t allow it.

  Dean had to force himself to look away.

  After fetching a cup from the cupboard, he crossed to where the coffeepot sat on the stove. The brew was dark and fragrant, just how he liked it. He took a sip before turning to find Courtney waiting patiently behind him.

  She had wrapped some of the sweet bread all neat and tidy in a napkin before setting it on a plate beside a small bowl holding a dollop of fresh cream.

  How did she know he liked to spread the cream on his sweet bread?

  Feeling a bit off-kilter, he accepted the plate with a short nod as his gaze flickered over her face. “Thank you. I guess I’ll see you tonight then, at supper.”

  She smiled and gave a nod in return but didn’t say anything.

  Dean figured he was probably behaving all wrong, but he had no idea what else to do. It wasn’t every morning that a man woke up after making love to a wife he shouldn’t want.

  Not that he regretted anything that had happened. It was just that he had no idea what came next, especially when all he wanted to do was grab the woman and kiss her deep and hard until she clung to him like she had the night before.

  With a tightness in his belly, he left the kitchen through the back door. But he only made it a few paces before he turned and headed right back into that kitchen, not stopping until he reached her side. Setting the plate and his coffee down on the counter, he reached for her, curving his arm around her waist to turn her in to him as he lowered his head and planted a kiss hard on her lips.

  He half expected her to shove him away.

  She didn’t.

  With a low sound, she angled her body into him, draping her arms around his neck and dislodging his hat while she parted her lips to accept the wide sweep of his tongue.

  Before he could convince himself to stay there in that kitchen all day, he released her, swept his hat up off the floor, grabbed his food and coffee, and strode back out the door. To keep himself heading toward the barn, he repeated a running list of all the things he needed to do that day.

  He’d noticed some areas of the goat pen that needed reinforcing. If there was any weakness in the structure of their pen, the mischievous animals would find it and exploit it.

  He had to process paychecks for his men. They needed their money for the next few days of R and R so they could head into town for some fun, so that should probably come first.

  He needed to devise a way to catch whoever was responsible for the slaughtered cattle.

  The thought had his stomach churning. He didn’t want to believe the MacDonnells were capable of such violence. The old man had been one of Augie’s closest friends. Dean and Randall had run around with Anne and her brother, Clinton, their entire childhood. They had been like family.

  But death had a way of changing things.

  If the MacDonnells blamed Dean for Anne’s death in any way, they might feel justified in the ugly, vengeful behavior.

  Hell, Dean wasn’t sure it wasn’t justified.

  He’d been avoiding direct contact with them since Anne’s funeral, keeping a distance whenever he spotted Clinton or his father in town. The idea of confronting them over this nearly made him sick.

  But something had to be done before more cattle were killed.

  * * *

  It was late morning by the time he made his way out to the goat pen.

  It was just his luck that he’d finally managed to shove thoughts of Courtney into the farthest corners of his mind only to come upon her when he least expected to.

  She sat on a hay bale while one kid tugged playfully at the hem of her skirts and the other hopped around on her lap. Her wide, sunny smile and quiet laughter as she teasingly admonished the young animals for their naughty behavior sent a shot of sharp regret straight through the longing inside him.

  She looked so right sitting there in the sunlight. While he’d been doing all he could to avoid her, she’d managed to make herself at home on the ranch. She’d claimed the goats as her personal pets, found a place in his kitchen, made friends with his family, and even won over his ranch hands. What was next on her list of things to conquer?

  He had a flashing vision of her riding on horseback across the wild open spaces of the Montana plains, and his stomach clenched with trepidation.

  Anne had been the most ac
complished rider and cattlewoman Dean had ever known. She’d grown up running wild all over Montana cattle land. If a simple riding accident could bring her down—a woman so confident and capable—how could a city lady like his bride possibly manage?

  But the more he thought of it, the more he wanted to show Courtney the land he loved so much. He wanted her to ride beside him across the open range to see his herd grazing in the distance before heading back to the house at sunset.

  Against his better judgment, his feet took him closer to her. She didn’t notice his approach until he’d gone through the gate into the pen. Her smile was just a little bit shy but still so warm and joyful that he found himself speaking before he could stop himself. “Come on. I’m taking you for a ride.”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you mean on horseback?”

  An altogether different kind of riding flashed hotly to mind before he chased it away. “You said you wanted to learn, right?”

  “Of course, but I’ve only learned a little about tack so far. I really don’t know if I’m ready to get on one of the animals just yet.”

  Dean paused as the kid that had been tasting Courtney’s skirts ran over to start bouncing around at his feet. He leaned down to scoop the little thing up in his arms where it couldn’t do any damage to his boots. “Best way to learn is to get in the saddle.”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. “I thought you had a lot of work to do today.”

  He heard the hint of challenge in her voice and shrugged. “I guess I could use a break.”

  The look she gave him was oddly disconcerting. But then she smiled. A big, bright, and beautiful smile that went through him like a blast of sunshine. “Then I’d love to go for a ride.”

  “Great,” he said with a nod as he set the squirming kid back on the ground. “I’ll get some horses ready while you change.”

  “Change?”

  He swept an appreciative glance over her sunny-yellow dress. “I don’t have a side saddle, so you’ll need to wear something that allows you to ride astride.”

  “Of course.” She rose to her feet. “I believe a split skirt was included with my order from Mrs. Grainer. I’ll only be a few moments.”