Heartsong (Singing to the Heart Book 2) (15 page)

The door opened, jerking him out of his ponderings. Michaela stepped over the threshold, stopping to stare at him with desire she either couldn’t hide or had stopped fighting burning in her eyes. She was still dressed in the white gown. Her long curls had gone limp, and the daisies were falling out. The bottom of the satin skirt was stained from walking in the grass.

He wanted nothing more than to strip her out of the dress and run his fingers through her thick blond hair. He held the half-full beer bottle in a death grip and cleared his throat of the sudden lump. “Is Loretta all squared away?”

She averted her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her. “Yeah.”

“That’s good.”

She licked those luscious lips. Her eyes slid from his to touch his body from his bare shoulders, over his chest, down his black slacks, and to his bare feet. The look was so fiercely sensual he bit back a groan and became so hard there was no hiding the bulge behind his unbuttoned pants. When her eyes settled on his again, she smiled a little lopsidedly. “Lizzie told me she thought you were gorgeous.”

Damn, why hadn’t he just gone back to his room across the hall? He cleared his throat again, but his voice still came out hoarsely. “And what do you think?”

She moved closer, each step emphasizing the sway of her hips. Did she have a clue how sexy she was? She stopped a few feet away from him. “I told her I hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

Michaela shrugged and took the beer from his hand. She watched him as she put it to her lips and tipped back her head to drain the bottle.

The action had him swallowing. Was she trying to seduce him? Or had she finally admitted to herself she wanted him and was giving in to her wilder side?

She set the bottle on the heavy oak dresser with a thud. “Okay. As much as I hate admitting it. I want you, and I decided you were right. Nothing is stopping us from having sex. So, what do you say?”

He had to get away before he gave into his lust. When she stepped closer, he held her away by catching her upper arms. Her hot, smooth skin burned his hands. “Michaela, I’m thinking that maybe we should keep this deal… uh… sex free.”

She moved away and furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

He crossed the room, putting some space between them. Running his fingers through his hair, he sucked in a deep breath full of her scent. “I got to thinking, that’s all. What if something happens?”

“Like what?”

She crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing the exposed tops upward. He looked away and closed his eyes.
Like maybe I can’t afford falling in love with you again.
Instead, he came up with another logical reason. “Maybe we can’t afford taking the chance that you’d get pregnant.”

“I’m on the pill.”

He took another breath and fought for control over every blazing cell of his body that wanted to be buried deep inside her. “You were on the pill the last time, too.”

She sighed, the sound so sexy that he ached. “We could use condoms.”

He met her eyes, the flame going out of them a little, and he told a boldfaced lie. “I don’t have any condoms.”

She turned away from him and squared her shoulders. “Then I suppose we shouldn’t sleep together.”

“Goodnight.” He escaped before he gave into what they both wanted.

In the room across the hall, he closed the door and leaned his head back against it. How the hell was he going to survive this craziness?

* * * *

Before the sun was even up, Michaela was in the barn saddling Beau. She needed to forget what had happened last night. Like some sex-crazed hussy, she’d thrown herself at Gabe, and he’d tossed her aside like yesterday’s garbage.

She sensed the gelding’s eagerness to run the moment she buckled the cinch. The other horses in the barn nickered, and she tossed them some hay before taking Beau out. A stall on the end was empty. Who had taken Sam’s stallion out? The answer came to her with a sigh--Gabe. The horse, named Devil’s Spawn for good reason, needed to run. She’d exercised the big sorrel, but she hadn’t ridden him. To do so didn’t seem right since he’d been Sam’s horse.

Beau bumped into her with his head, reminding her that he was more than ready to go. She stroked his long face. “Okay, I’m going.”

Once they were outside the barn, she mounted him and began his warm-up. When she finished, she brought him into the starting gate and set the timer. She’d been trying for a while now to see if Beau still had his record-setting time of 13.20 seconds in him. Although barrel racing arenas varied, she had her course set up to the distance and configuration of the NFR. As she waited for the buzzer, she leaned over his long neck and whispered in his ear as she stroked his smooth hair, “C’mon, boy. Give me thirteen seconds. I know you can do it.”

* * * *

“Whoa.” Gabe gently pulled on the reins of his father’s horse, bringing him to a stop at the corner of the barn as horse and woman shot out of the frame constructed of two-by-fours in the corral. His heart skipped a beat in awe as Michaela and her big gelding raced at a breakneck speed around the first barrel, then looped the second. Going around the third barrel, Beau leaned over so far, Gabe feared Michaela would pitch right out of the saddle, but the worry was short lived. Horse and rider were too in-tune with each other and worked too well together for that to happen. Beau’s thundering hooves grabbed at the dusty ground and straightened up as he came out of the curve, finishing the cloverleaf pattern. He shot like a rocket back to the gate, tripping the timer to stop.

She grabbed her hat and waved it in the air with a whoop. “Yes! That’s what I want to see. Thirteen point twenty-five!” Setting the Stetson on her head, she leaned over her mount and patted the horse’s sweaty neck. “Good job, boy!”

His heart galloped like a horse. Damn, that time was only 0.5 seconds off her NFR
record. “That was some fancy riding.”

She turned in the saddle. “You saw it?”

“Yeah. Too bad you’re retired. With times like that you’d own the NFR.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Despite the chill of the morning air, heat rose in him. Memories of her offering herself to him last night had kept him awake, and the ride through the pastures on the powerful horse had done nothing to alleviate his desire.

Her gaze snagged on his for a moment, and he was certain he recognized the same undeniable need, but she broke the spell when her mount pranced to the side. She steadied Beau and dismounted in a fluid motion that defied the fact the horse was nearly as tall as she. “When do we need to leave for Dallas?”

“By one. Our flight leaves at six p.m.” They’d decided the trip to Nashville for the award show would suffice for a honeymoon. The last thing he wanted was to go off to some romantic destination with a woman he desired too much and couldn’t have.

She led Beau around the corral one last time as a cool down. “I’ll be ready.”

Gabe slid out of the saddle and his boots hit the ground with a thud. He patted Devil’s Spawn on the shoulder and the horse nipped at his hat. “Hey.”

Michaela stopped on the other side of the fence and laughed. “I don’t think he likes you much.”

Gabe adjusted his hat and glared at her. “We get along just fine.” He led the horse into the barn, following Michaela. “I already fed the horses this morning.”

She glanced over at him as she unbuckled the cinch of her saddle. “How long have you been up?”

He busied himself with unsaddling Devil’s Spawn. “A few hours.”

As they cared for their horses, silence rolled between them, building the tension to an almost palpable state. Michaela led Beau out to the fenced-off pasture that was all his own. Gabe followed her lead and led one of the other horses and Devil’s Spawn out into another corral of the pasture. Michaela let the last of the horses out, then reached for the rake to clean the stalls at the same time as he grasped it.

They stood boot-to-boot. His hand rested over hers on the smooth wood of the rake handle. He caught his breath, and their gazes locked. As he caressed his fingers over the cotton of her long-sleeve shirt, her muscles tensed under his touch.

Her breath quickened with the advance of his hand to her shoulder, then to the warm skin of her neck. He took her hat off and pulled the band from her ponytail to bury his hand into the golden satin of her long hair. She caressed her free hand over his chest and fisted it in the cotton of his shirt.

Lust boiled through him at the heat in her eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled her to him as she tugged on his shirtfront. Their lips came together hard. He plunged deep into her open mouth, dueling with her sweet tongue.

She moaned and wrapped both arms around him, knocking off his hat, which fell forgotten to the floor beside the rake. He brought his hands down to her firm ass and pulled her up against him. Not satisfied, he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around him as he pushed her against the barn wall.

Breaking the kiss, she nibbled on his ear, then breathed words as wild as the passion burning between them. “Let’s go up to the loft.”

* * * *

Neither of them wasted time scrambling up the ladder. Gabe let Micki go first. She stood on the straw-littered floor of the loft, with bales of fragrant alfalfa and oat grass stacked around her, and waited for Gabe. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She yanked open the snaps of his plaid shirt. His chest muscles rippled with the motion and his eyes burned with enough heat to set the hay around them on fire. He laid his shirt on a layer of the bales and reached for her. Her breath left her in a gasp when his mouth sought hers, and he kissed her hard and thoroughly while he unbuttoned her shirt.

She grabbed for the buckle of his jeans and worked to get the stubborn thing open but had to leave her task as he slid her shirt down her arms. Giving up on his belt, she tackled her own, while he did fast work opening his. After pulling his boots off, he shoved the faded denim of his jeans along with his underwear down his legs.

She groaned and sucked in her lower lip at the site of his tanned, naked body. He hadn’t changed much in the seven years since the last time they’d made love. The reminder of what they had once had made her doubt the sanity of this, but she’d come too far to stop now. She kicked off her own boots and followed with her jeans.

Standing before him in only her sports bra and cotton panties, she shivered as much in anticipation as from the chill of the autumn morning. Enfolding her in his arms again, he kissed her as he turned her to bring her down on top of the layer of hay bales covered with his shirt. He yanked her bra over her head, then shifted to remove her panties. As he moved over her again, he kissed his way up her trembling body, stopping to suckle and tease her nipples, hardening the sensitive buds to near painful levels. With a loud moan, she tugged on his hair until his face was above hers, while he supported his weight on either side of her head on his elbows. She pulled him down to her and kissed him. A dance of tongues meant to mimic what they both wanted. All the while, her other hand slid along his body to find his hard cock. As she stroked the velvety skin, he hissed in her mouth.

Breathing hard, she broke the kiss. Near his ear, she whispered, “Ride me hard, cowboy.”

To emphasize her meaning, she wrapped her legs around him and guided him to her. He didn’t need any other encouragement. When he thrust into her, they both moaned.

Gabe paused, and she became accustomed to his size. He stroked her cheek and locked on to her gaze. Something flickered across his amber eyes, and for a beat, she thought she recognized it as the way he’d once looked upon her, with love and tenderness. But then he closed his eyes and tossed back his head. With teeth gritted, he began to move, and then all thought left her as he built her up in blinding light to break apart in a million splinters of purest pleasure.

He groaned and stiffened above her, following her to climax.

* * * *

“Looks like someone already took care of the horses. Hey, wonder whose hat that is? It’s a fancy one. Think it’s the boss’s?”

At the sound of the voice below them in the barn, Gabe pulled himself above Michaela, supporting his weight on his arms. She popped her eyes open and stared at him with her mouth going round.

“Maybe. But whoever let the horses out didn’t clean the stalls,” said one of the other ranch hands Gabe had hired for the place. “Look here. I found another hat. I think it’s Micki’s. At least, it’s a woman’s.”

From the soft thuds of footsteps in the breezeway, Gabe imagined the first speaker moving toward the second. “Wonder what happened.”

“Don’t know. But damn, if I was married to Micki Finn, I sure as hell wouldn’t be out here the day after the weddin’ doin’ barn work.”

Gabe smiled at the horrified expression draining Michaela’s face of the flush he’d put there only a few moments ago.

“Sure ‘nough.” Both cowboys chuckled, then the first speaker said, “Hey, what’s that? There, hangin’ out of the hay loft.”

“Looks like a shirt. You don’t think...?”

Both Gabe and Micki glanced toward the opening in the loft floor. Her pale blue shirt hung over the edge. Micki closed her eyes and groaned, then slapped her hand over her mouth to stop the sound.

“Uh... I think we found the newlyweds. The stalls can wait.” The cowboy, who spoke first, laughed heartily, and a slap sounded as if he’d cuffed the other guy. “C’mon, Jim. Let’s get outta here.”

The door closed, leaving behind the sound of a bird chirping somewhere in the barn’s rafters and his and Micki’s hard breathing.

“At least this time we’re married.” The first time they’d made love had been in this loft. He was eighteen, Michaela seventeen, and he’d just taken her virginity when his dad came into the barn calling for him. His father must have heard them rushing to get dressed and climbed the ladder to investigate the sounds. Sam had caught Gabe and Micki half-dressed and there was no question about what the two had been up to. Gabe still remembered the lecture he got later about responsibility and possible consequences.

“Oh, God,” Michaela groaned again. “Not sure this time is any better.”