At the Cowboy's Mercy (6 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Kennedy flexed her fingers inside her pockets as she waited outside the RV for Luke. The days had warmed up but the nights were still cool. She just couldn't make herself go into the trailer to wait, not the way they'd left things earlier. She tugged her hands free from her pockets when he turned the corner and strolled down the path. His pace quickened when he saw her.

"Why are you waiting outside?" He passed her to unlock the door.

"Not sure you'd want me back inside."
 

His shoulders eased and he angled his head to look at her. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier."
 

He reached out a hand and she took it. Heart tripping, she followed him inside.

"This is how I should have said hello," he murmured, and turned to take her into his arms.

His kiss was gentle and coaxing but no less devastating than the one in the barn. She wound her arms around his neck as he held her, both arms around her, making her feel cherished, not owned. His lips were soft, his tongue teasing. She rose on her toes, wanting to feel the strength of his body against her. He tightened his hold, but made no move to take her to bed. So she let herself melt into him, to savor every movement of his lips, every brush of his tongue.
 

He broke the kiss, easing his lips to her jaw, then below her ear. "Don't run away tomorrow."

She stiffened and lifted her hands to his biceps, to push him away. "I didn't--"

"I want you to go with me to Gonzales."

Her hands rested on the insides of his elbows as she tried to wrap her mind about what he was asking. "You spend the night."

"I do." His thumbs circled patterns on her back.
 

"I work."

"Not the next two days."

How did he know that? And he wanted her to go away with him? What did that mean? This was just sex, right? Going away together meant something more. He hadn't said he'd forgiven her for not calling him when her father was sick, but maybe he'd softened a little. And she was eager to see the place he wanted to call home. "Are you going to put me to work?"

He chuckled and dragged her hips closer to his. "Maybe. But I spent the past two days getting the house livable."

She frowned. "You said the house was last on your list."

"It was. But now it's rodent free, with a new bed and a functioning bathroom."

She angled her head, relaxing a little. "A functioning bathroom?"

"I thought we could take the RV, but maybe we'd like to spread out a little. Come with me."

Something in the pitch of his voice warmed her, and she nodded, not meeting his gaze, not questioning her own desire to go with him, to know the man as well as she'd known the boy.
 

His fingers hooked through her belt loops and edged toward the bedroom. She followed, heart pounding. Knowing how sex would be with him made this more exciting than the first time. He sat on the edge of the mattress and drew her between his thighs. He released her jeans and pushed up the hem of her t-shirt.

"All weekend long I thought about getting my mouth on your tits."

She made a face, even as he dragged his callused fingers over the sensitive skin of her belly. "I don't like that word."

He looked up at her, brows lifted. "What word? Tits?"

She nodded.

He brushed his thumbs against the undersides of said tits. "What word do you like?"

Honestly? She'd never given it much thought. "Breasts, I guess."

He shook his head, a grin canting his mouth. "Too hard to say. What about nipples? Can I say I want to suck on your nipples?"

A groan escaped her throat at the words, and she felt a charge go through her body. She nodded, and he flattened his hand against the small of her back, pulling her closer and opening his mouth over her lace-covered breast. The sensation of his tongue and the lace on her tender flesh, and then the gentle suction of his mouth, sent heat thrumming between her legs, so intense she wanted to slide her hand inside her panties to ease the ache.

He turned his head to her other breast, this time pulling down the cup so his rough stubble scraped her tender flesh. She tightened her grip on his wrists as he suckled, then dragged his teeth along her nipple. He released her with a pop and looked up at her.

"What about pussy? You okay with the word pussy?"

She nodded--or shook her head, she couldn't be sure, but she didn't have much control of her body. All she wanted was for him to
touch
her. She pushed his hands toward the waistband of her jeans, hoping he'd get the message.

"Say it," he urged, his breath cool against her wet nipple.
 

"Pussy," she managed.

"Tell me what you want to do to your pussy, Kennedy."

"Touch it. I want you to touch it. God, Luke, I want to come."

He chuckled. "So soon?"

Bolder, she pushed his hand to the fly of her jeans. "Make me come."

"Tell me to touch your pussy."

"Touch my pussy, God, Luke."

He released her to grab the fly of her jeans, and with a tug, opened it. For a moment, she feared for the age-weakened denim, but then he thrust his hand inside and dragged his touch over her wet flesh, and...

She sagged so that her knees dug into the insides of his thighs when he clamped his mouth over her breast and pushed two fingers, knuckle deep, into her.
 
Aching, she rolled her hips into his touch, wanting a release of the tension coiling inside her. She curved her fingers around the back of his head, holding him to her breast.

Despite her grip, he pulled away, mouth and hand. "I want you to ride me."

She swayed a bit, bereft without his touch, and scared as hell to be on top. She wasn't the most experienced when it came to sex, and he wasn't a small man. While his hips were narrower than the rest of him, he was just, well, big. But her needy body was desperate to get him inside her, so instead of answering, she reached forward and popped the buttons of his shirt, baring his chest. God, what a sexy chest, manly with the light brown hair over strong muscles and a few scars. She dragged her fingers through his hair, pushing him back on the bed as she did, and popped open his fly. His cock strained against the fabric, making it difficult for her to work the zipper, but she managed, taking the jeans and the boxer briefs down his thighs. She stopped mid-strip and curled her fingers around his thick length, savoring the heat and strength beneath her fingers. The curved smooth head beckoned her. She licked her lips and slipped them over the tip. His fingers dug into her shoulders, but she wasn't sure if he was trying to push her away or gain control of himself. Then he lifted his hips and she opened her mouth wider to take more of him in. The taste of him filled her, his scent surrounded her, making her hotter to feel him inside her. Her panties were already drenched. She slid her tongue along his length, savoring the texture of his cock, learning his pleasure spots. He pumped gently into her mouth a few times, then pushed harder at her shoulders.
 

"Not like this, not this time," he said. "Take your clothes off."

She straightened and stripped off her t-shirt while he watched, then unhooked her bra. She toed off her boots before peeling down her jeans and panties in one movement. The scent of her own arousal filled the small space. He finished removing his own jeans, rolled on a condom, then moved back farther on the bed, hands folded behind his head.
 

Taking a deep breath, she knelt on the bed, a knee on either side of his thighs.
 

"Tell me what you want to do," he urged as she moved up his body.

"I want to ride you."

"Do you want me deep inside you?"

Why did his words turn her on so much? Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. "Yes."

"Put me inside you, Kennedy. I want to feel your pussy squeeze my dick."

She wrapped her grip around his erection and guided him to her opening. She lowered herself onto him, her body stretching, opening, the heat of him burning into her skin, branding her. God. She took him in in little thrusts, deeper each time. When she thought she couldn't take any more of him, he closed his hands on her hips and thrust upward until his pelvis was flush with hers, the wiry hair around his cock rasping her swollen clit. She rolled against him a few times, getting accustomed to the depth of him. She slid her fingers through his chest hair, up and down, loving the rasp of it against her palms.

Then she began to move. Her thrusts were awkward at first. Luke clenched his jaw, and she wondered what that meant. His thumbs rested in the crease between her thigh and hip, stroking lightly as she struggled to find a rhythm. One thumb shifted to rest on her mons, just above her clit, which swelled in anticipation of his touch. Instinctively, she moved toward it, her breath catching at the sudden pleasure she found. He grunted his satisfaction and matched her rhythm, unrelenting. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through her blood. He teased her nipple with one thumb and slipped his other lower, riding the ridge of her clit. She moaned and pistoned her hips, slamming them against his over and over, the wet sound of slapping flesh echoing in the tiny space, the orgasm building under his touch.
 

"God. Luke!"
 

He sat up, wrapping one arm around her as she came apart, her channel squeezing around him, her clit pulsing against his hand. Before she could catch her breath, he tightened his grip and lifted her. She expected him to flip her onto her back, but instead he pinned her to the wall. Her thighs spread across his as he crouched, one hand braced against the paneling behind her head, and hammered into her. She hooked her feet around his ass to bring him deeper. He took the invitation, pressed his hand against the small of her back as he fucked her.
 

Then he tightened his grip, his body flush against hers, and his breathing hitched. She felt the pulse of his cock inside her as he ejaculated. Why did that make her feel powerful?

Before she could give it much thought, he withdrew, and with one arm looped beneath her ass, carried her back to the bed. This time, he was gentle as he lowered her to the cool sheets. She felt him strip off the condom, then he curved his body around hers, stroking her hair as he drew her against him. His heart still hammered against her back and she waited for him to say something. Instead, he stroked his fingertips up and down her thigh, his breathing slowing until she knew he was asleep.
 

***

The drive to Gonzales the next day was gorgeous, everything green, the day unseasonably warm so they had the windows down. Luke had stopped at the gas station and bought some drinks. Kennedy hadn't had a Big Red in ages, hadn't had the wind blowing in her hair, feeling damn near carefree, in almost as long. She smiled over at Luke, the first real smile she'd felt in months. She would not attribute her relaxed state to the two orgasms this morning. In fact, she shifted on her seat, sore.
 

He seemed more relaxed, too, and while it could be the blow job she'd given him earlier, she thought it was more that he was getting away from the rodeo, out to his land. His. He'd always been happiest when he was at her dad's place, out in the open, out in the air. He was an excellent rodeo cowboy, but sometimes she thought he was born out of time, that he needed to be away from people, out on his own, his own schedule.

He turned onto a white crushed rock road. Kennedy leaned forward for a look, but the road was lined with trees, and weeds grew high against the fence. The drought that had forced her father to sell off his cattle last year had ended, and now there was food in abundance.
 

"Don't go anywhere without a pistol," Luke said. "I killed a rattlesnake right over there this weekend."

"Rattlesnake in February?"
 

"They don't have calendars, Kennedy. They just know it's warmed up. You remember how to shoot?"

"It's been awhile." She remembered trekking out from the house to the tree line, toting a shotgun, ammo and a bag of cans for targets.The brothers had preferred handguns, though now that she thought back on it, Luke had looked damned hot shooting her shotgun. "Maybe we can get some practice in?"

He slid a look in her direction. "Maybe."

"What've you got?"

"A .38 in the glove box and a shotgun behind the seat. You're not going to shoot up my fence like you did your daddy's, though."
 

"That was your brother. He was a terrible shot."

"Still is." He turned on the signal light.

She straightened, straining to see through the trees. He crossed a cattle guard onto a gravel road lined with weeds. Her stomach tightened when she caught sight of a peaked tin roof over the tops of the weeds. He crested a rise and there it was, a single-storied Victorian, L-shaped with a porch that ran the length of it, and peeling paint.

"It's laid out like Dad's place," she said quietly.

He braked, some distance from the house. "I noticed that. Some day I'll add the limestone patio, the barbecue pit, a split rail fence. Maybe some flowering vines, morning glories or something trailing along."

Just like home. She could picture him here, just as she'd seen him at home, sitting on the patio, drinking beer and laughing in the evenings after a hard day's work. The question was, who would be with him?
 

He pulled up closer to the house and she got out of the truck, looking at the house. God, she missed home, and was aware of the irony that she hadn't been able to get away fast enough, away to college, away to the big city. Not because she didn't love her dad, but because she was tired of being the only female around so many men. If Luke and Liam weren't enough, her father's poker buddies were always around. She didn't begrudge him his friends, but maybe he could have chosen better ones.
 

"Watch your step," he warned, motioning to the high grass as he rounded the truck to get his handgun out of the glove box.
 

She skirted the worst of the weeds and glanced at him as she put her hand on the rail to mount the porch.