Cooking For Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers) (16 page)

“Recipe?”

“Kissing and touching in the proper measure. Mix well, slowly and thoroughly.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Slowly?” she blurted, laughing. “What happened to your recipe a few minutes ago? That was anything but slow.”

“Momentary lapse driven by mutually unbearable need. This time we’ll do it right. By the recipe,” he suggested, grinning.

“Like this?” she asked mischievously as her fingertips tickled his chest and slowly trailed across the corded muscles, through the dusting of soft curls.

“Oh, yeah,” he whispered. “You’re a very talented chef, remember.”

She smiled and continued her exploration. She doubted he’d ever seen the inside of a gym. Hard work, shirtless in the sun, had produced those spectacular muscled pecs and tanned abs. She heard his sudden intake of breath as she suckled his nipple.

His erection returned instantly.

“Does the ‘slow’ part of your recipe apply to your recovery time?” she teased.

“No way,” he choked out.

Her fingers slipped downward, playing with the dark curls surrounding the base of his manhood.

“Not there.” He reached for her hand, placing it where he wanted it most.

“No, no, no,” she teased, taking her hand back “We’re doing it slow and thorough this time, remember?”

“Whose dumb idea was that?” he gasped.

She laughed. Abandoning his nipple, she moved lower. Her tongue zigzagged across and down his taunt belly, leaving a trail of wet kisses in its wake. She toyed with his belly button for a few seconds and then continued the pattern back up to his chin. She inhaled his scent, a mixture of musk cologne and sex, and she was wet again.

“You’re going to drive me insane if you don’t touch me,” he warned, smiling at her.

“Shh,” she whispered. “My tongue is touching you. This is your recipe, remember.”

Every sexy smile of his, every nonchalant glance, every casual touch had almost driven her crazy since the day they’d met. Now, he was hers, all hers. She never wanted to let him go. Could this overpowering attraction develop into something permanent? He was so wonderful and the things he did to her body drove her to distraction. If only he could be her Mr. Right!

She moved up and possessed his mouth.

“Okay, my turn,” he whispered, scrambling off the bed.

He grabbed a pillow from the pile on the floor and settled it under her hips.

“Are you going to...”

“Yes, I am. Relax.”

He moved between her legs and parted her lips. His tongue slipped inside her, teased her relentlessly. Her hips started moving and she groaned aloud. She reached down and her hands drew him closer to her. “I need your mouth...”

He knew what she wanted, and he suckled her clit gently and thoroughly. Her body bucked and his hands moved to her hips, guiding her movements.

“Oh, oh... Chad,” she called his name with her orgasm. He lapped up her juices. “You taste so good,” he murmured.

Her hands in his hair encouraged him to continue, and he complied willingly. When she was nearing another orgasm, he pulled back and removed the pillow from under her. He lay on his back beside her and settled her hand where he’d wanted it so badly before.

This time, she complied, stroked his erection and smiled sweetly.

“Oh, God, whatever you do, don’t stop.” His hips moved the second she’d started touching him.

Sierra felt so powerful, reducing this strong, always-in-control man to a submissive pool of wanting. “Are you ready for me?” she whispered the words he’d asked her.

“Beyond ready,” he groaned. “Your taste drove me wild. If you don’t let me inside you again soon, I’m going to die.”

“Well, I couldn’t live with myself, having your death on my conscience.” She’d been driving him to distraction, but she was so wet and so ready for him she could barely stand it.

She reached for a condom and slipped it onto his pulsing erection. His eyes almost rolled back in his head when she straddled him, burying him deep inside her.

“Sierra,” he whispered her name, like a prayer.

He felt so good, filling her completely. She moved slowly at first, and he squirmed beneath her urging her on. He reached up and massaged her breasts while she moved above him.

She gasped aloud.

Her movements quickened and he placed his hands on her hips, matching her thrusts as she sought her climax and ultimate release for him as well. No man had ever excited her more. Enough of the damn recipe; she couldn’t wait a moment longer.

He turned sideways suddenly, flipped her onto her back and entered her again. She gasped in surprise. How had he managed that? She didn’t care. He was back inside her and she relished his weight on her heated body. She wrapped her arms around him, closed her legs and pointed her toes, strained for release.

“Oh, that feels so good,” she whispered, matching him stroke for stroke.

He found her mouth and kissed her, deeply. She tasted her own juices on his lips and it increased her excitement. She was so close, so close. Just. Another. Moment. And then an orgasm ripped through her body, pleasuring her entire being.

He increased his pace, panting, quickened his pace again. And then he called her name as he came seconds later.

They remained in each other’s arms, their bodies attached for what seemed like ages. Finally, Chad’s spent member slipped out of her body. He hurried into the bathroom to tidy up, and then returned to her side.

“That was out of this world.” A bit sore but totally sated, Sierra cuddled with Chad’s arms wrapped around her, protectively.

“I know. I can’t find the words...” He kissed the top of her head.

“I’ve never felt as safe as I do in your arms,” she whispered, realizing daylight was showing through the linen curtains.

“I’m happy you feel that way.” Chad kissed her lips. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but I should sneak back into my own room.” He crawled out of bed, rounded up his clothes, and grabbed his boots and Stetson. Clutching his possessions to his chest, he slipped out the door, closing it soundlessly.

No sooner had Sierra snuggled under the sheet and closed her eyes, but she heard that damn rooster crowing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned.

Chapter 13

Sierra yawned, poured herself a cup of coffee, and slumped onto a kitchen chair. She set her coffee mug down, rested her head on her crossed arms, and closed her eyes. What had she been thinking? She seemed to be asking herself that a lot lately.

She heard Celia step into the kitchen. Sierra lifted her head and pasted a smile on her face. “Good morning.”

“I smelled that coffee and thought I was dreaming. You never crawl out of bed this early. What’s the occasion?”

Sierra groaned. “The secret to being up this early is not going to sleep.”

Celia grinned. “You were out all night with Chad?”

“I didn’t say that,” clarified Sierra, feeling a heated blush creep up her face. Before she realized she’d spoken the thought aloud, she added, “We were home...we just didn’t sleep.”

A look of understanding crossed Celia’s face. “Oh,” she whispered. The housekeeper walked across the floor and patted Sierra on the shoulder. “You spent the night doing the horizontal mambo. At least that’s what we called it in my day.”

Celia poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across the table from Sierra. “Finish your coffee and we’ll get breakfast on the table. After the dishes are done, go catch a few winks while I prep for dinner.” She chuckled. “Prep for dinner. Listen to me…sounding like a real cook.”

“You’ve been a wonderful student and a great help,” said Sierra, meeting Celia’s eyes and meaning every word of it.

She searched the older woman’s face for an indication that she didn’t approve of Sierra’s behavior with Chad last night. Nothing showed. Maybe Celia considered it none of her business. At least, she didn’t appear to be judging Sierra in a negative way.

“Thank you, dear. I appreciate that. I’ll wake you at 11:30 and you can help me finish up and serve. You’ll feel a lot better after a few winks. And turn in early tonight so you can catch up on your beauty sleep.”

“Thank you, Celia. I could drop off to sleep sitting here.” Celia moaned, “Why did I do this to myself? I should have just kissed him goodnight and then…”

“I think for a woman making love with the new man in your life is like a child opening presents on Christmas morning. It’s always more exciting when playing with a new toy the first time.”

“Celia!” exclaimed Sierra.

“I’m a senior, dear, but I’m not dead. I’ve opened a few new presents in my life. Never regretted the loss of sleep either. Was last night worth it?” inquired Celia, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Sierra shook her head, emphatically. “I do not kiss and tell.” She felt a smile sneak up on her.

“That’s what I thought,” said Celia, laughing. “I remember a few of those nights myself. No one has ever died of all-night lovemaking. So let’s get breakfast on the table.”

Celia rose and dragged Sierra to her feet. “I can’t wait to see what Chad looks like,” she mumbled under her breath.

“I heard that,” said Sierra.

At seven o’clock sharp, the ranch hands filed into the kitchen, washed-up and starving. Out of the corner of her eye, Sierra watched a bleary-eyed Chad sit on his chair at the head of the table.

He yawned loudly.

Celia burst into laughter.

“What?” asked Chad.

“Nothing. Eat up, young man. I imagine you’ll have quite the appetite this morning.” Celia winked at Sierra.

Feeling her face redden, Sierra set an enormous platter of French toast on the table. Her cell phone rang and she strode across the room and plucked it off the counter. “Hello.”

“Have you heard anything?” asked her landlord and best friend, Diane, newly-returned from Vegas. Sierra had left her a note, informing her where she and Barney had moved to temporarily, and she’d kept Diane apprised of her job-hunting prospects.

“No, and I can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of serving breakfast. I’ll call you back later if I hear something,” said Sierra. She checked the calendar and realized she should hear something today. Instantly, her nerves were on high alert. Sierra couldn’t handle her friend being on pins and needles as well. She knew Diane would be calling or texting, if she didn’t contact her.

“Couldn’t have been anything important,” observed Celia.

“No. I’ll call Diane back when I’m not so busy.” Sierra grabbed a coffee pot and started refilling everyone’s mugs.

By eight fifteen, the breakfast dishes were washed.

Bonnie poked her head into the kitchen. “I won’t stay long, just wanted to ask if you enjoyed your dinner date last night, Sierra.”

“The food was excellent. I couldn’t have prepared a better meal myself. The service was good and the ambiance welcoming and relaxing.” Sierra sipped her coffee.

“I’m glad you had a nice evening.”

“We ran into some of Chad’s chuckwagon friends at Ranchman’s afterward. And I met your neighbor, Willie Smythe.” Sierra set her coffee mug in the dishwasher without meeting Bonnie’s eyes. “We had a wonderful time.”

“The first of many I hope,” Bonnie sat in her wheelchair, beaming.

“Now, don’t you start, Bonnie Parker,” warned Celia. “You know that line of thinking only gets you in trouble with Chad.”

“I’m not counting grandchildren or anything. But I can dream, can’t I?” Bonnie’s expression suggested she was miffed by Celia curbing her matchmaking efforts.

Sierra smiled, secretly in favor of sharing her future with Chad. “Nothing wrong with that. I dreamed of becoming an executive chef one day, and every one of my goals has been reached. With patience, hard work, and a little luck, you can achieve anything you set your heart on.”

“See there, Celia.” Bonnie shook her finger at her lifelong friend. “Sierra agrees with me.”

“Now I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Chad hasn’t even asked me on another date,” Sierra pointed out.

“He will,” insisted Bonnie, nodding her head. “I’d bet the ranch on it.”

“You don’t own the ranch, Chad does.” Celia chuckled.

“Splitting hairs,” scoffed Bonnie.

“Before I forget to ask, Bonnie. I assume every year you gather produce from the garden as it ripens and then can or freeze some for winter use. Could you prepare a list of the produce that’s usually harvested? I assume we’ll be making pickles, salsa, and jams.” Sierra handed Bonnie a notebook and pen. “And if there’s anything you haven’t had time for in the past but you wanted to try, add that, too. We can always hire someone to help for a week or two if necessary. I know lots of trainee chefs who’d be delighted to help. And those kids work cheap.”

Bonnie’s face lit up like a lighthouse beacon. “My goodness, Sierra, I’d love to help with the canning and pickles. The garden provides us with root vegetables for the winter. There’s a climate-controlled cold room off the back entry that’s been specially outfitted for that purpose. We freeze peas and beans and other vegetables. Make dill pickles and beet pickles and salsa. We make applesauce and pies and cobblers from the apples, too. I’m delighted that you’re willing to do this.”

“Nonsense, there’s no way all that food you’re growing is going to waste. Whatever we can’t use we’ll take into town and donate to the food bank or a charity for the homeless.”

Sierra left instructions for the day’s prep work for Celia while Bonnie worked on her list. Hopefully, Celia wouldn’t explain why Sierra needed some ‘time alone in her room’, the excuse she’d used to escape for a much-needed nap.

The moment she entered her bedroom, she stripped down to her bra and panties. She hadn’t even bothered to make her bed, which allowed her to just crawl in and pull the covers up to her neck. She smelled Chad’s scent on the sheets still, and she smiled, remembering their time together last night.

The air conditioning seemed to be turned up especially high, or else she felt chilled from lack of sleep. Either way she intended to snuggle under these covers and sleep until Celia came to get her.

Chad’s lingering scent comforted her, and Sierra drifted off to sleep a few minutes later. Soon, she was dreaming about her wedding to Chad. A long lacy veil covered her shoulder-length hair styled in soft ringlets. She wore a pearl-encrusted, snow-white wedding dress with a six-foot train as she walked the length of a red-carpeted church aisle. Chad stood at the altar, wearing a tux with a teal-colored cummerbund and matching boutonnière. Wedding bells rang out, loud and clear. Ringing. Ringing. Sierra jolted awake, sat bolt upright in bed. Her cell phone sat on the bedside table, ringing incessantly.