A Cowboy’s Worth: The McGavin Brothers

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A Cowboy’s Worth: The McGavin Brothers Page 12

by Thompson, Vicki Lewis


  He shrugged.

  “See you in a couple of hours!”

  “Okay,” Zane called back. “I might be gone by then. Have fun!”

  “We will!”

  Behind her, Rory’s soft chuckle sent a shiver of anticipation up her spine. Until that moment, she’d submerged their ultimate plan under a flurry of preparation for the ride. Otherwise she would have been all thumbs. But now…

  She turned and looked at him sitting easily in the saddle. “Ready?”

  “More than ready. I’m hopin’ there’s a good place not too far.”

  “There is if it’s still there. The trail is narrow, more of a game trail, really. We’ll have to keep the horses down to a walk. But you can practice your skills just fine—heels down, lower back loose and spine in easy alignment.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  With a quick nod, she swung up on Jake. “Follow me.” She rode toward a much simpler gate, one with only a loop of wire to hold it closed.

  Once there, she reached down, opened it and motioned him through. She followed on Jake, repositioned the loop and turned to Rory. “This way.” She pointed to her right. “We’ll have to ride single file.”

  “Following you is a pleasure. Fuels my imagination.”

  She met his gaze. Holy smoldering lust. No man had ever looked at her with enough heat to melt her panties. Her hands trembled on the reins. “Let’s go.”

  About ten yards from the gate, the trail dipped into the trees. “Low-hanging branches. Watch your head.”

  “Got it.”

  She hadn’t ridden this trail since high school, but it had been one of her favorites when she’d taken solo rides. The small glen was only about ten minutes away, assuming it hadn’t become overgrown since she’d last been there.

  Only the chirp of birds and the steady clop of hooves broke the silence. The rapid thudding of her heart sounded loud to her, but that didn’t mean he could hear it. Was his beating like that, too? She bet it was.

  The glen should be coming up. Lifting in the saddle, she peered through the trees. Was it still there? Yes! She turned back to him. “We’re in luck. My little hideaway spot looks about the same.”

  “Yours?”

  “Not really. I call it that, but—”

  “Mind your head, lass!”

  She swung around just in time to duck. “Whew. Thanks.”

  “You might be a wee bit distracted.”

  “You think?”

  “I almost whacked my noggin a while ago.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re here.” She rode into the small clearing and dismounted. “My favorite spot.”

  “Thank the Lord.” He winced as he swung down from the saddle.

  “Oh, no!” She dropped Jake’s reins to the ground and hurried to him. “Did you hurt yourself riding?”

  His smile was tight. “I dinna think how ridin’ would squeeze my tadger.”

  Evidently his brogue was more pronounced when he was aroused. She could guess the meaning of tadger from a quick glance below his belt. “I, um, didn’t think of that. Do you need to…”

  “Aye, I need to.” He dropped Diablo’s reins to the ground. “Will the horses be—”

  “Fine. They’ll munch some grass.”

  “Good.” He took off his hat, hung it on the saddle horn and reached for her. “Been thinkin’ about kissin’ ye since last night. Dreamed about—” He paused and lifted off her hat. “This has to go.”

  She quivered. “Doesn’t everything have to go?”

  “Sure and it does.” He propped her hat on top of his. “But first, kiss me, afore I go half-crazy with wantin’ the touch of your mouth.”

  Shoving her glasses to the top of her head, she nestled against him and cupped the back of his neck. “You sound very Scottish right now.”

  “Canna help it. Hope you dunna mind.”

  “On the contrary.” She urged him closer and met him halfway. “I love it.” Then she gave him an open-mouthed kiss that ought to tell him everything he needed to know.

  It must have worked because he groaned and took the kiss deeper, making love to her mouth with such abandon that she nearly climaxed. She wriggled away, gasping. “Rory! I’m dying, here!”

  “So am I, lass.” Panting, he stripped off his shirt and laid it on the ground. “Lie on this.”

  Sweetest gesture in the world. “I will, but first I should take off a few things.”

  “I’ll help ye.”

  Dear God, his thickened accent was nearly as exciting as his gentle hands lifting off her glasses, easing her shirt free and unhooking her bra.

  After setting everything on the ground near his shirt, he straightened, cupped her breasts and leaned down to lightly kiss the tip of each. “So bonnie,” he murmured. “So verra bonnie.” Without warning, he lifted her in his arms and laid her down on the shirt he’d spread out.

  She squeaked in surprise. “But I still have on my boots! And my jeans! And my—”

  “’Tis not important. Dunna worry. Just let me kiss ye here…and here…and here…”

  She ran up the white flag. His mouth roamed her hot, trembling body, setting off mini-explosions of delight as he sucked, nipped, nuzzled and licked.

  Delirious with pleasure, she lost track of the sequence of events. Somehow he divested her of her boots. Then her jeans were gone, which exposed more territory for him to explore. He seemed to know when a breeze had cooled her damp skin and he returned to that spot to sip and suckle until she pulsed with urgency.

  “Rory.” Her voice was hoarse. “I want…I need…” Coherence was lost. Rational thought was gone. She ached with a fierce passion that had no name. “Please.”

  “Aye.” Ragged breathing telegraphed that she wasn’t the only one beside herself. “’Tis time.” Taking his warmth with him, he sat nearby and pulled off his boots. Then he stood and unzipped his jeans.

  She looked up as he stripped off both jeans and briefs. Then she gulped. Maybe it was the angle, but…no, not the angle. Wow. Just wow.

  He fished in the pocket of his jeans and came up with a square packet. She hated to see him cover up that work of art. She would have liked to admire it a little longer.

  Except every second he was away ramped up the tension building in the epicenter of her restless body. She’d always believed that sexual desire was a predictable result of replicable stimuli. She’d dare anyone to replicate this moment.

  Kneeling beside her, Rory leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Then he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Can ye see me?”

  “Yes.” She dragged in air. “I’m near-sighted.”

  “Wanted to make sure, because there’s somethin’ I need to say, even if holdin’ back is causin’ me to shake. And I need ye to see my face when I say it.”

  She slid both hands up his cheeks, which were scratchy with the beginnings of his beard. “I can see your face, Rory.”

  “Then here ’tis. I’ve never known anyone like ye, Damaris. I think…nay, I know we have somethin’ special. I dunna understand what that means, or where this is goin’. But ’tis not a temporary diversion.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Good. If ye dinna understand, I’d—”

  “Get dressed?”

  “Nay. Might not have the willpower when I’m so close. But I’d not be lovin’ ye quite the same if ye dinna believe me.”

  She gazed into those blue eyes and her heart swelled with excitement. “Then give it all you’ve got.”

  He moved over her. “I’ll ask the same of ye, lass.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Making love was never ordinary. But making love to Damaris would forever change her life and his. Rory had wanted to make sure she understood that, even a wee bit, before proceeding.

  He would have proceeded anyway because he was a lusty Scotsman and his tadger ached something fierce. But he would have held back as much of himself as possible. Thank God he didn’t have to.
/>   She was all in, rising to meet him as he thrust deep into her warm, receptive body. Ah, sweet heaven, he’d been right! Locked in snug and secure, he gazed down at her, searching her bright eyes for what he longed to find.

  Yes. There it was. Recognition. His heart swelled. “See what I mean, lass?”

  She nodded.

  Slowly he began to move. “I canna make promises.”

  Her breath came faster. “Neither can I.”

  “But this…’tis…I canna put words to it.”

  “Don’t try.” She wrapped him in her arms and held on tight. “Just be here with me.”

  He’d never been more present in his life. Each stroke, each magical time he settled deep in her willing body, he forged another link binding them together more surely than words said before a preacher.

  His nostrils filled with the scent of crushed grass, evergreen and musk. Bird song blended with her soft gasps, his rough breathing and the rhythmic, liquid sound of lovemaking.

  He saw only her—green eyes dark as rain-dampened moss, lips red from his kisses, cheeks flushed pink. Her generous breasts, tipped with burgundy, shivered with each thrust.

  He moved faster and her fingertips dug into his back. Then she began to pant, squeezed his tadger and cried out his name. She was coming, recklessly surrendering all that she was. To him.

  With a groan wrenched from the depths of his soul, he gave in kind. Surging forward, he poured himself into her with a fierce rush that made his ears ring. Braced above her, he gulped for air as the waves of her climax rippled over his still-hard tadger.

  He gazed into her eyes as the ripples slowly subsided. He didn’t want to blink, didn’t want to miss a second of the emotion shining there. Didn’t want to move and shatter the perfection of being intimately joined.

  Her soft mouth tilted in a smile. Reaching up, she stroked his cheek. “We can’t stay like this forever.”

  “Why not?”

  “Physics.”

  He laughed. Dear God, that felt good. She laughed, too, and her breasts jiggled. He balanced on one forearm so he could touch her there. “You’re a gift, lass.”

  “You’re an entire room full of presents.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” He sighed. “You’re right about movin’, though. There’s a sharp rock under my knee. Didn’t feel it until now.”

  “There’s also one under my tush.”

  “Damn.” He carefully disengaged and moved back. “I should’ve checked the ground before I—”

  “Checked the ground? Do you not remember how frantic we were?”

  “Aye.” He stood, grabbed his jeans and pulled a handkerchief from the back pocket and the plastic bag from the front.

  “You lapsed into saying things like ye and ’tis.” She sat up. “Which I adored by the way.”

  He chuckled. “When I start talkin’ like that you’ll know I’m either aroused or drunk.”

  “That’s good intel.” She stood. “Getting drunk is bad for your liver, but I’ll happily keep you aroused so I can hear that thick brogue some more.”

  “Stroll around like that and you’ll achieve your aim in no time.” Once he’d dealt with the condom he allowed himself to fully enjoy the sight of Damaris, gloriously naked and…wearing her glasses? “Why’d you put those back on?”

  “The better to view your tadger.”

  He grinned. “You’ve expanded your vocabulary.”

  “Yes, and that’s my new favorite word.” Her glance drifted downward. “On the other hand, I forgot to ask how many condoms you put in your pocket.”

  “I might have brought a spare.”

  “Oh?” Her gaze lifted and her eyes sparkled. “Just in case you enjoyed yourself the first time?”

  “Just in case.” He drew closer and took her by the shoulders. “But I’ll not have you gettin’ bruised again. Let me see your backside.” He turned her gently around and crouched down. “Ah, lass, ye have a wee bruise.” He kissed the faint bluish spot. Then he licked it.

  She sucked in a breath. “Are you making it better?”

  “Aye.” He kissed and nuzzled her silken bottom. Then he slid his hand between her damp thighs to caress his tadger’s favorite place. “I dunna want ye lyin’ on the ground this time. I’ll take the ground. Ye will take the top.”

  Her reply was breathy. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Mm-hm.” He nibbled his way up the curve of her spine, lifted her thick hair and pressed his mouth against her nape. Her breast filled his hand, her nipple taut between his fingers.

  She moaned, and the depth of yearning in the sound went straight to his groin. Circling her hips, he pulled her against his aroused body and put his lips next to her ear. “Dunna want to let you go.”

  She trembled. “If you…want to lie down, I’ll get the condom.”

  “Front pocket.”

  “I know.”

  He gave her ear a gentle nip. “Be verra quick.”

  “I will.”

  Releasing her, he knelt beside his shirt, located the rock and removed it. Then he stretched out on his back.

  “Found it.”

  “I see that.” A naked beauty holding a condom would make any man’s staff snap to attention. His was no exception.

  She sank to her knees beside him. “I’ll do it.” She ripped open the packet and gazed at his tadger. “I hate to cover it up.”

  “Then let me—”

  “But I will.” Pushing her glasses to the top of her head, she leaned over him, As she rolled on the condom, her breasts swayed gently.

  He closed his eyes. If he watched her, he’d explode for sure. But that left nothing to distract him from the erotic brush of her fingers.

  Her warm breath feathered his cheek. “Done.” And she kissed him.

  He would never get enough of her mouth. Sliding his hands through her luxurious hair, he held her head and kissed her back. Yes, he wanted all the rest, and soon, but her kiss was full of joy and he wanted more…and even more...

  She dragged her mouth away, gasping. “I’ve never known a man who kisses like you. I was completely satisfied a while ago and now I want you again. What’s that about?”

  “Chemistry.”

  “Smarty pants.”

  “Not wearin’ any.”

  Her gaze traveled over him again, more slowly. “I really like you without pants.”

  “I really like ye without ’em, too.”

  She swallowed. “I’m not used to…wanting someone with such…urgency. I’m feeling a little…out of control.”

  “As am I.” He reached for her hand. “’Tis a good thing.”

  “Scary, though.”

  “Nay.” He squeezed her hand. “Come to me, lass.”

  “Gladly.” She straddled his thighs. Slowly her mouth tilted at the corners. Spreading her fingers, she planted both hands on his chest. “Permission to come aboard, sir.”

  “Permission granted. I’ll guide ye.” He grasped her hips and lifted her into position.

  “I want to look.” She dipped her head to glance backward, obscuring his view.

  He could do this blindfolded, but her hair tickled his chest, adding one more delicious sensation to test his restraint as he lowered her slowly.

  Lifting her head, she met his gaze as he completed the connection. Emotion flared in the green depths of her eyes. She swallowed. “The first time was…so good.”

  His chest heaved. “Aye.”

  “This will be better.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rory’s powerful chest, rising and falling with his labored breathing, was a lovely place for Damaris to rest her hands. His light dusting of dark red hair was springy beneath her palms. Best of all, his rapid heartbeat vibrated under her fingertips.

  Down below, he filled her completely, anchoring her so securely that she wasn’t sure if she could move. Wasn’t sure if she wanted to when he thrust upward ever so slightly, setting off a quiver that promised future delights.

&nbs
p; She loved being connected to him, loved staring into his blue eyes, especially when he looked at her like this, as if he saw her as the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. No man had done that before.

  She eased upward, relishing the tantalizing friction. A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Too much?”

  “Ye must…let me catch my breath. Dunna want to come yet.”

  His thick brogue thrilled her to her toes. “Me, either.”

  He grasped her hips more firmly. “Now, lass. Easy up and easy down.”

  She smiled. “Are you asking me to be gentle?”

  His answering smile was a little strained. “When I tighten my grip, stop.”

  “I will.” She eased upward. Mm. Nice. His fingers pressed harder. She paused, then slid back down. “How’s that?”

  “Good. Again. Faster.”

  She followed his directions and he gasped. “Too fast?”

  “Too good.” He drew in a breath, expanding his massive chest. “Ne’er been like this. I could come just lookin’ at ye.”

  Pleasure rippled through her, centering in her core. “Keep talking like that and I’ll come, too.”

  “Should’ve brought three.” He took several deep breaths. “Again. A wee bit slower. There. Good. Like that.”

  She moved in a lazy rhythm as tension gradually built in her core. His breathing grew ragged. Hers, too. Oh, my, he’d shifted his hand. His thumb was circling, pressing…

  “Slower.” His muttered command was followed by a deep groan.

  “No.” She flattened her palms against his sweaty chest and went for it, glorying in the intense friction, his bellow of release…and an orgasm that roared through her like a tsunami.

  He lay there panting, his eyes closed. “Thank you, lass.”

  She placed a kiss on his warm chest. “For being gentle with you?”

  “For lettin’ me love you.” He opened his eyes and held her gaze. “It’s a rare privilege.”

  The words poured over her in a glittering shower of splendor. Her throat tightened. “What a beautiful thing to say.”

  “What a beautiful woman to say it to.”

  “Much more of that and I’m liable to tear up.”

 

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