At the Cowboy's Mercy (10 page)

BOOK: At the Cowboy's Mercy
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"And how would you get to work? You don't have a car."

The light in her face dimmed. "I don't know--how far is it? Maybe I could get a bicycle or something."

"And if it rains you're screwed. Plus, I don't like the idea of you staying out there by yourself. And there's no hot water, remember." He shook his head and took another sip of his coffee.
 

The crowd was thinning out by the time their order came, and Jolene brought over the application.

Kennedy, who hadn't said anything since Luke shot down her idea, shook her head. "We can't figure out a way to make it work. Once Luke heads out, I won't have a car."

"I heard you say you live out at the old Evans place? My busboy lives out that way. He could give you a ride in."

Kennedy glanced uncertainly at Luke, and he looked toward the busboy, by the windows.
 

"This is a crazy idea, and you have a job at the rodeo."

"Until the end of the weekend," she reminded him. "Then I go with you and hope for another job, or go with Gary and have no place to stay."

He understood her concern, but for him to feel right about leaving her alone out at that house, a hell of a lot needed to be done today. He set his coffee down. "I guess our next stop is buying a hot water heater."

***

The water heater took much longer to install than either of them expected. Kennedy rocked on her heels anxiously as Luke stretched out on the kitchen floor, muttering curses as he worked to attach the device to the plumbing. She knew this wasn't what he'd planned to do today, and guilt gnawed at her for forcing him to change his plans, again.
 

"Really, I can do without hot water."

He grunted and continued working.
 

"At least tell me what to do."

He lifted his head from between the cabinet and the water heater and looked at her then. "Go play with your kittens and stop asking me that question."

"I just want to help."

"You standing there isn't helping. I got this." He turned his attention back to the pipes or plugs or whatever. "Go away."

Cautiously she backed away, not wanting to irritate him but wishing she could make the process easier. She walked out onto the porch and sat on the steps, the only place to sit . She dragged the box Luke had placed out here earlier. The mama cat jumped out, alarmed, and the kittens started mewling. She reached in the box and scooped out a pair, and then the other two, causing them to squeal in alarm, and the mama kitty hurried forward, meowing frantically. She put her front paws on Kennedy's thigh and sniffed her kittens, who had quieted as they rooted around on Kennedy's jeans. She leaned against the porch post and stroked her thumb over the little orange tabby's head.
 

What had she done here? She was going to live in a small, strange town in a house in the middle of nowhere. She didn't know a soul, didn't have a car. But she had a job, she had a place to stay, and while she was still beholden to Luke, she wouldn't be under his nose, causing him to snarl every five minutes.
 

It would be good. Terrifying, but good. She pet the mama kitty's head and listened to the steady stream of profanity from the kitchen.

***

There. It was done. He wouldn't have to worry about her taking cold showers in a cold house, and the farmer at the diner had said another cold front was coming in tonight. He climbed to his feet and walked to the sink, cranking on the water to wash his hands. The tank of the heater was still filling, so no hot water yet, but he got the blood off his knuckles, then dried his hands on a new kitchen towel she'd bought yesterday. He never would have thought to buy kitchen towels.

Though he knew he knew she was on the front porch, he walked out the side door to the truck. He pulled out the gun he'd stowed in the glove box when they'd gone into town. He strode around the side of the house, startling her and the mama cat.

"It's done. We're going to go shoot."

She picked up the kittens one by one and placed them back in the box before she scrambled to her feet, dusting off her ass. "What? Why?"

"I want to make sure you know what you're doing. I'll leave you this gun. Sleep with it by the bed and take it with you when you go around the place. Can't have you dying out here of snake bite."

She paled and gave a little shiver. He regretted his words, for a moment, anyway. He stroked his hand down her arm but he didn't think she was all that reassured. He picked up the bag of empty plastic bottles they'd planned to take back to the city to dispose of.

"What are those?"

"We can use them as targets. We'll put some dirt in the bottom so they don't blow over." He inclined his head toward the back of the house and tucked his hand against the small of her back to guide her.

Once he found a suitable background--lots of trees so they didn't accidentally shoot someone's livestock--he peeled off a couple of labels from the water bottles and stuck them to the tree trunk, using bits of bark to hold it in place. He walked back to her, drawing the gun from its holster, and handed it to her. She checked the load, then lifted the gun, sighted down the barrel, and fired. A chip of bark flew off the tree above and to the right of the label. Before he could step forward to help her correct, she fired again, more centered but still too high.

"Need to lower your sight," he said with a hand on her arm.

"Done that already," she muttered, and fired, catching the top right corner of the label.

Luke knew he shouldn't take her comment personally, but the accuracy of it stung. Of course she'd lowered her sights from being in television in Dallas to living in a rundown house and sleeping with a rodeo cowboy. Maybe she didn't mean it that way, probably didn't, since she was grateful to him and all. But he saw the truth in it, all the same.

She fired again, again too high, and he guided her hand down. She fired three times in rapid succession, obliterating the label. Lowering the gun to her side, she turned to face him.
 

"Satisfied?"

Pride was the only reason he could give for the surge of possessiveness that ran through him. He took the gun from her, his thumb tapping the safety only to find it already engaged. "Not nearly." He tucked the gun in the holster at his hip and hooked his hand behind her neck.
 

The kiss was harder than he intended, and she gave a little whimper, but then curved her hand around the back of his head and rose on her toes to return it. Her tongue battled with his, her teeth nipped his lower lip, and Jesus, he was hard in two seconds. Hard and aching and...

He cupped his hands under her ass and lifted her. She tried to wrap her legs around his hips, but...

"Gun," she said against his mouth. "Wait." She wriggled out of his grasp and lowered herself in front of him, unbuckling his belt, popping open the fly of his jeans. Gently she reached inside and drew his cock out.
 

He didn't realize he was holding his breath until she opened her mouth around him. He had to use every ounce of self-control not to push deeper into the wet heat as she bobbed her head, her lips meeting the hand she'd wrapped around the base of his shaft before pulling back slowly, excruciatingly, holy shit. She lifted her gaze to him, letting him know she knew exactly what she was doing. She repeated the motion, and all the blood left his head, rushing to get in on the fun in his dick. This time, she added a soft hum, then another slow stroke. Then, Christ, a quick one that had his knees buckling.
 

Her hand slipped from the base of his penis to his balls, and he widened his stance to feel her fingers playing over the sensitive skin in rhythm to her mouth's movements. Another quick bob, and she cupped his balls, tight with anticipation. But he didn't want to come yet, wanted to savor the sensation of her hot mouth and clever tongue and magic fingers.
 

She drew back a bit and flicked her tongue beneath the head, back and forth, dragging a groan from his throat. He unfisted his hand and placed it on the top of her head, urging her to take him deeper, deeper.

All it took was one more caress and his self-control disintegrated. The orgasm ripped through him, and he came hard, feeling her swallow as he poured into her mouth in hot pulses, making him as weak as a newborn colt.

She waited until he pulled out before she sat back on her heels, looking damned pleased with herself. He hooked his hands under her arms and dragged her to her feet, covering her mouth in a long, hot kiss. He skimmed his hand down her belly and into the waistband of her jeans, thinking to repay the favor, but she pulled away, a teasing smile on her lips.

"You mentioned earlier that you wanted me to learn how to drive the tractor," she reminded him, walking backwards toward the barn. "We're losing daylight."

The last thing he wanted to do was to teach her how to drive the tractor. He wanted her naked in his bed for the next however-many hours until he left her out here.
 

***

The cold front blew in while he was showing her how to operate the tractor, how to shift, how to raise and lower the shredder, how to fill it with gas. Kennedy shivered against the sudden chill as the wind hit her skin, as the sky darkened overhead.
 

From his place on the running board, Luke cast a concerned glance toward the sky and reached across her to turn on the engine. "Better take it in."

She closed her fingers around the steering wheel. "You trust me to drive it when you're not here, I can drive it when you are."

He lifted his hands in surrender and dropped to the ground. Getting the vehicle in gear was a little effort, and she started off with a jerk, but got the tractor into the barn and the barn doors closed and locked--easier since they cut the grass. When she turned, Luke was standing just where she'd left him, watching her. She trotted back over, hoping to snuggle into his chest for warmth, but he stepped aside.

"Go on in. I need to take care of some things."

She frowned, looking at his own thin t-shirt, but hurried into the house.

She was setting out the sandwich supplies when he came inside. The temperature inside had already dropped significantly, and she'd put on her hoodie against the chill. He scowled when he saw.

"It's too cold for you to stay here. Radio said it was going to get into the thirties tonight, forties tomorrow. This place isn't going to keep you warm."

Her chest seized. Would he send her away, in the name of keeping her safe? "I'll be fine. I have layers. I'll be heading into the cafe tomorrow, and the bed is plenty warm."

"I should've at least gotten you a space heater. I didn't think of that."

"I'll. Be. Fine." She rounded the counter to lean into his chest. "But I wouldn't object to you warming me up."

Something flashed in his eyes, but again, he stepped aside, confusing her.
 

"Starving," he said, shoving his hand in the open bag of chips.

But later that night, when it was dark, the wind howling, the warmest place was in bed. He gave her a pair of his socks to wear with her sweatpants and hoodie, and pulled her against his chest, curving his body around her.

In only a matter of moments, she felt him grow hard against her ass, and bumped back against him in invitation, unsure of how he'd react since he seemed to be doing his best to avoid touching her all evening. He tightened his arm around her and pressed his head deeper into the pillow, making no move.

So she wriggled again. He placed his hand on her hip as if to still her, but then his fingers flexed and he turned her onto her back, rising over her in the same movement. In the dim light from the hall, she could see a glint in his eyes, but he said nothing as he lowered his mouth to hers, his kiss slow, sultry, perfect.

She arched against him, making a soft sound in her throat, winding her arms around his neck as he rocked his hips against hers. He coursed his hands up her sides to caress her breasts through her sweatshirt, then back down to shove at her pants, peeling them down her legs. The sound of tearing foil was her only warning before he angled his hips and entered her.
 

She gasped against his mouth as he slid into her in short strokes, deeper each time, not saying a word as he lifted hie head to look down at her, one hand braced on her pillow, the other at her side. He was gentle, but didn't touch her, didn't say a word. Somehow his silence made her hotter, wetter, and his thrusts grew faster, his breath more ragged. She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him deeper, angling so his groin pressed against her swelling clit with each drive. She circled her hips and met his thrusts, until finally he cupped her ass in one hand, holding her as he fucked her, the wet sounds filling the room, the scent of their bodies filling her senses. She was excited but nowhere close to coming, and his thrusts were more erratic. He was going to come without her.

Just when she was certain of it, he shifted his hand on her ass, his thumb sliding down the cleft to rest against her opening, stroking so lightly that she didn't see the orgasm coming until it hit her with the force of a freight train, carrying her off the bed and against him, her body clasping greedily until she felt the pulses of his own climax.

He held himself over her for a moment, trembling on his arms, then withdrew, pulled up her pants and collapsed beside her, his arm over his eyes, all without a word.

CHAPTER TEN

Four weeks later

Luke drove through downtown Gonzales heading out to his land. He'd stopped in front of the diner, but Kennedy hadn't been working. He hadn't gone in, but where else would she be but at the house?
 

He wouldn't relax until he saw she was safe and sound and warm.
 

Well, he didn't have to worry about the last part. It was March now, and he drove with the windows down, even thought about running the air conditioning as he turned onto the gravel road.

The neatly trimmed gravel road. Both the grass and trees had been cut back, making the place look--lived in.
 

BOOK: At the Cowboy's Mercy
9.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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