Her Cowboy Lover (Pleasure Ridge Ranch) (6 page)

This time, they did make love slowly. Slow strokes, slow kisses, slow licking. By the time Connor brought her to completion again, quickly followed by his own, she felt like little more than a sweat-slicked noodle.

"How do you feel about a shower?" he whispered against her ear.

"I’d say I’ve had a lot of fantasies about them."

"Do tell," he said, teasing in his sexy voice.

She ran her fingertip over his left nipple. "How about I show you instead?"

Connor found some hidden well of energy, stood quickly and lifted her in his powerful arms as if she weighed no more than the quilt that now pooled in the floor at his feet. With long strides, he carried her through the bedroom to the bathroom. After turning on the water and letting it warm to a comfortable temperature, he led her inside the large, walk-in shower. He grabbed the soap and started lathering her body.

"I’ve never done this before," she said.

"Showered with a man?" He sounded surprised.

"Yeah. I guess I worried that the real thing would never live up to my fantasies."

Connor pulled her to him, their slick bodies wrapping around each other. "What kind of fantasies?"

Instead of speaking, she captured his left nipple between her teeth and tugged gently, then slid her tongue across the sensitive bud.

Connor slipped his fingers through her water-slicked hair to the back of her scalp then lowered his mouth to hers. She met his kisses with equal enthusiasm as he rubbed the lower halves of their bodies together. One of her fantasies floated up from her memories, and she pushed Connor against the far side of the large shower. She ran her hand down the middle of his soaked chest then lowered herself in front of him.

"You don’t have to do that," he said. "I’m here to pleasure you."

"And what if I told you this was one of my fantasies?"

She heard the catch of his breath even over the sound of the shower, and it filled her with a surge of excitement. At first she just teased him with her tongue, lapping at the tip of his penis where it jutted forward, torturing him if his groans were any indication.

As she ran her hands up the back of his legs to his hips, she felt a shudder race through him. "Tell me what you want, Connor."

He let out a shaky breath. "I want your mouth on me. I want to be in your hot, wet mouth."

She gave him what he wanted, taking him fully into her mouth and slowly working him, flicking her tongue against his velvety flesh, sucking him a little harder with each movement of her head down onto him.

"Oh, Lily," he said, then something else unintelligible.

She detected him reaching up to grasp the handles she’d noticed in the shower that morning. Desire surged through her, and she increased her pace, bringing him closer and closer to climax.

He was incredibly close to coming when he pulled her up and switched places with her. "Hang on," he said, his voice a command, but a thrilling one.

She grabbed onto the handles as he lifted her and rammed himself inside her.

"That’s it," she said. "Deeper, deeper."

He slammed into her so hard that she wondered if they might shatter the plaster. He increased his pace to the point where she couldn’t think anymore, not about anything beyond the utter ecstasy of his pistoning motion inside her.

She threw her head back and cried out.

"Come for me," Connor said against her throat, his voice a wild growl. "Come as hard as you can."

She did, shuddering and shattering into a pool of flat-out exhaustion, but already looking forward to doing it all over again.

* * * *

When Connor woke sometime in the pre-dawn hours, he wondered if he could even move. He didn’t test it, not beyond opening his eyes and staring up at the darkened ceiling. As more of his brain cells woke up, he noticed the feel of Lily’s bare body curled up next to him. He managed to turn his head on the pillow enough to see the top of her head, or at least the shadowed shape of it.

He wanted to see her in the light. The curves he knew impossibly well now, the color of her eyes, the shade of her hair, the contours of her face. Now that she’d pushed herself past previous barriers, could she come out of the dark? Or would they share no more than this, incredible sex in the dark?

Of course, that’s all they would share. And he fought the feeling that it wasn’t enough.

He lifted the hand that wasn’t curved around Lily’s body and rubbed it over his face. He had to get out of this business. There had to be another way to earn a living and care for his mother. One that would allow him to maybe find someone like Lily, someone who could make him forget his problems like she had in the hours before they’d stumbled and fallen, totally spent, into bed. Someone who, through some miracle, could overlook what he’d done during his time on the ranch.

In the quiet of the night, he listened to her breathe and wondered again what had happened to her that had led her here to his side now.

She stirred but didn’t wake. A few moments passed, but then she squirmed against him, pushing away and making a sound of distress. What was she dreaming about? Was she reliving whatever it was that had hurt her?

He rubbed his hand gently up and down her arm. "Shh. It’s okay. You’re safe."

She jerked awake and for a moment seemed disoriented and frightened. She tried to back away from him, but he gently took her hand and squeezed. "It’s okay, Lily. It’s just me, Connor."

Lily froze then gradually relaxed. "Sorry. Guess I was having a nightmare."

Connor lifted a hand to her face and caressed her cheek. "I’m here if you want to talk. I’m sort of like your doctor — I don’t share anything you don’t want me to. Not even with Heidi."

She sighed and allowed him to guide her close to his side. Her hand settled on his chest, and he had to admit he really liked the simplicity and trust in her touch. He experienced a pang of loss that all of this time with her wasn’t real. It was a fantasy, a moment out of time.

Then why did he feel differently with her than he had with all the other women he’d been paired with at Pleasure Ridge? Was it just because he suspected she was his last? Was it because of the glimpses of her pain? Her determination to get past whatever haunted her? Or the way she’d made him the center of attention in the shower earlier? Maybe it was all of this and other things he couldn’t even name.

"I was attacked," she said finally, surprising him that she’d actually given him a straight answer. "Not raped, thank goodness, but attacked in a way that it stripped me of my normal life for quite some time."

"I’m sorry." He kissed her forehead. He considered his next words carefully, not wanting to push her too far. "But something like that isn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have to hide."

"The dark...it’s allowed me to do things I don’t think I’d have the courage to try in the light."

"You might be surprised. Maybe you’ve healed more than you think." He didn’t know why he said it, but something about her told him that she was indeed a strong woman, one who’d just been dealt a blow no woman should ever have to endure.

Before she could respond, his cell phone rang in the living room. Panic shot through him. Few people had his number, and even fewer would be calling at this hour. He pulled his arm from beneath Lily’s head and surged to his feet. "I have to get that." He raced, naked, to the living room and dug the phone out of his jean pocket. He recognized the number on the display, the cell number of his mother’s caregiver.

"Angie, what’s wrong?"

"Your mom is being taken to the hospital."

* * * *

Lily wrapped a sheet around herself and followed the sound of Connor’s voice toward the living room. She tried not to think about who Angie was. It wasn’t any of her business, though she doubted seriously that he was married or had a girlfriend considering the job he went to every night.

"I’ll be there as fast as I can," he said, then ended the call.

"What’s wrong?" she asked from the doorway that led into the bedroom.

"I’m sorry, but I have to go. My mom was taken to the hospital."

"Of course," she said, hurrying forward. She managed to find his shirt as he slipped into his underwear and jeans. "Is she okay?"

"They think she broke her ankle, but she...she has other issues, too."

Lily detected his hesitance and didn’t pry.

When he was fully dressed, he rushed toward the front door. "I’m sorry. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to come back. Heidi can give you a refund or send someone else."

Lily felt as if he’d punched her in the gut. She didn’t want someone else. And even though he was worried about his mother, his words hurt her. But they drove home what she’d been in danger of forgetting — that she was paying him for sex, for romance, for a lie.

As he drove away, she genuinely hoped his mother was okay. But she was also glad that she’d never seen his face. If she had, she’d be hurting so much more than she was right now.

With a shake of her head, she slammed the door on the night outside, on her foolish belief that there had been something more between them than sex that was bought and paid for with her money.

* * * *

The afternoon was more than halfway over by the time the hospital discharged Connor’s mother and he helped Angie get her settled back at home.

"Stop fluttering around me like gnats," his mom said. "I just twisted my ankle."

Connor kneeled in front of where she was sitting in her favorite recliner. "Mom, you broke your ankle. That’s why it has a cast."

"That’s what you get for climbing up on a chair," Angie said as she came into the room with fresh glasses of strawberry lemonade. "You’re lucky you didn’t break your hip."

"Who’s this?" his mom asked as she looked up at Angie, then back at him. "Do you have a new girlfriend?"

Connor sighed and lowered his gaze to the floor between his feet before lifting it back to his mom’s eyes again. How he missed the woman she used to be. "No, Mom. This is Angie. You know her."

His mom got that huffy look she got when she was convinced people were lying to her. "I think I’d know if I’d ever seen her before."

Angie squeezed his shoulder, and he stood and made his way toward the kitchen. After a couple of minutes, Angie followed him. He met the gaze of the fortyish woman who’d been his mom’s caretaker for nearly a year.

"I should stay here and help you out with her tonight."

Angie was shaking her head before he even finished speaking. "There’s no need for that. She’s going to be sitting in that chair until she’s ready for bed anyway."

"But she’s getting worse. She doesn’t even recognize you."

Connor, you know as well as I do that chances are she’ll remember me just find ten minutes after you leave. And she’ll forget me tomorrow, maybe forget you, too. But then an hour later, she’ll not only know us but everyone within a five-mile radius. That’s just how this goes."

He knew she was right, but it didn’t feel right to leave his mom’s care to someone else either.

Angie took a couple of steps toward him. "Listen to me. She’s not used to you here at night. If anything, she might become more agitated. Go do your job, and let me do mine. And stop thinking that you’re not doing right by your mom. Trust me when I say I wish most people cared half as much for their ailing parents as you do."

If Angie only knew where he actually went at night, she’d really be shocked what he did to ensure his mom’s care. He crossed to the sink and looked out the small window above it at the angling of the sun toward the western horizon. "You’re sure?"

"Positive. Now go on. Your mom and I have some original
Dallas
episodes to watch."

His guilt and worry didn’t go away when he left, but part of his thoughts turned to Lily. Was she expecting him to return? Despite what he’d told her early that morning, he hated the idea of her asking Heidi for one of the other guys to warm her bed.

No, she wouldn’t do that. Not after last night, after she opened up just enough to tell him she’d been attacked. He had a feeling deep in his gut that it wasn’t something she talked about often, hadn’t planned to talk about while at the ranch. And yet she had, and the fact that he’d been the one she’d felt comfortable enough with to share that sliver of her story made him feel oddly attached to her. If nothing else, he owed her a better goodbye than his hurried exit that morning.

He slid into his truck and drove toward the ranch, urging the sun to hurry along below the horizon so the dark could make its grand entrance.

* * * *

Lily considered cutting her trip short. After all, she’d had two nights of a fantasy lover. Wasn’t that enough? Maybe it was time to get back to real life.

But when she’d pulled out her suitcase to pack, she hadn’t been able to do it. She wanted to know that Connor’s mother was okay, that he’d not wrecked in his haste to reach the hospital. And, to be totally honest, she didn’t want to give up hope that he might arrive as soon as night fell.

So she’d parked herself outside in front of an easel and worked on capturing the natural beauty surrounding her. Considering how her emotions were swirling when Connor left, she was surprised she could paint anything other than frustrated slashes of paint across a canvas. But something really had unlocked within her in the midst of her short time with Connor, and she found herself painting with a new enthusiasm, a thrill and urgency that hadn’t been there since before the attack.

If nothing else, she had Connor to thank for that.

As the sun waned, she put the finishing touches on the landscape and smiled. It was beautiful, if she did say so herself. More lifelike than anything she’d ever painted. Full of nature’s simple and yet complex beauty. For a moment, she wondered what price it would bring. But then the absolute certainty that she would never part with it settled over her. When she put it on her wall, she’d be able to look at it and imagine herself here at this cabin, on this ranch, the place where she reclaimed herself.

She carried the painting then her supplies inside as the air cooled with the coming night. Then she assembled a thick ham and cheese sandwich on homemade sourdough breath and retraced her steps outside so she could watch the final colors fade from the sky. She sat on the front steps well after the sky turned from orange to purple and then to an inky canvas peppered with stars so beautiful she knew even her talents couldn’t capture them.