Rodeo Nights (18 page)

Walker knew her, and he’d have to make sure she didn’t go until she dropped. Already tonight, he’d had to put his foot down, threatening to physically tote her home if she didn’t leave voluntarily. If she hadn’t believed he’d carry out the threat, his Kalli would still be in that little office, working away.

The temptation to smile that had teased his lips evaporated.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? She wasn’t his Kalli.

Not anymore. Maybe she hadn’t ever been. Or how could she have left him ten years ago?

He’d wanted to ask her that the day he’d brought her here. When they’d talked about Cory’s death. He’d thought for so long that she blamed him for Cory’s dying, but he’d believed her when she said he wasn’t to blame.

That left the terrifying question of why she
had
left. God, he wanted to ask her. But he was afraid he knew the answer.

Because if she hadn’t blamed him for Cory’s death, the only reason he could see for her leaving was that she didn’t want him, or the life he led, which came down to the same thing.

And he couldn’t take hearing that right now, because he’d started to dream. Started to see a future with her in it.

He knew danger. He knew the kind of courage it took to trust your luck and timing and skill to get on the back of a peevish bull.

But he didn’t know if he had the kind of courage it took to see a dream get trampled.

It would be safer not to dream at all.

A twist in his gut answered that. Impossible. He’d held Kalli in his arms, he’d felt her body against his, he’d slipped his tongue into the sweet heat of her mouth, and he wouldn’t stop wanting that—and more—until he stopped breathing.

But maybe he could hold his dream in by giving it a time limit, like the eight-second ride on a bull. He’d let his dream live and take him as far as it could, but only until the end of this summer. Only until the rodeo no longer needed Kalli and she went back to New York.

The light he’d been watching went out and all was darkness.

TWO NIGHTS LATER
, Kalli heard sounds through the open bedroom window as soon as she came out of her bathroom. The muffled thud of animal feet descending a trailer ramp and one low, male voice, uttering soft urgings.

Walker.

She’d tried to pretend she didn’t wonder if he’d be here tonight—the only other person who would be anywhere around the Jeffries ranch for hours—all during the shower she took to wash away the long day’s accumulation of rodeo dust. She couldn’t pretend anymore.

After they’d told the staff yesterday about the committee’s ultimatum, everyone had expressed absolute certainty that they would sell enough tickets for the Jeffries Company to keep the contract. But Walker had decided a surprise birthday party planned for one of the timers tonight would provide a much-needed release. He’d insisted everyone go, including the crew that usually transported livestock back to the ranch each night after the rodeo. Walker arranged that the crew would take stock back from early events, then he’d take the last load himself. Even Gulch had strict orders to go to the party in town and have a good time.

Kalli had made a quick appearance at the party, just long enough to wish Henry happy birthday and to see that Walker had been right—again. They did need this chance to party out some of their worries.

When she got to the ranch, there was no sign of Walker and she thought maybe he’d already finished. Refusing to examine her reaction, she barely took time to flip on a light in her room before taking a long, long shower.

She snagged her bathrobe off the back of a chair, pulling it on over her short gown. Not taking the time to take her hair out of the clip that had kept it from getting wet, she headed out of her room and down the dark hallway.

She didn’t even think about where she was going or what she intended to do. Then she heard the back door open and Walker’s booted heels on the uncarpeted corridor off the kitchen.

She froze.

“Kalli? I saw light on in your room. You okay?”

He stood at the end of the hall, shadowy, but so solid. She swallowed, trying to form an answer.

“Kalli? You okay?” he repeated.

“I’m...I’m okay.”

They stood there, neither moving, neither saying anything, neither able to see the other in the murky half-light.

“Kalli.” A different note in his voice brought her skin alive and tightened her lungs.

“Yes, Walker.”

“I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.”

Her lungs couldn’t take in enough oxygen. She breathed in quick, shallow spurts.

“Walker, we talked about that. The past... The past’s very powerful. And we got beyond that—”

“That’s right, we did. The first time I kissed you, maybe that was for the past. Part of it. But—”

“I know, Walker. That’s what I said. It’s understandable. After all—”

“That was the first time, Kalli. At Lodge’s. That was the old anger and desire we didn’t know what to do with.”

Then he waited. Waiting, she knew, for her to argue.

When she didn’t, he went on. “The other times have been for now. At Sunset Rock— That was the start. That was our first kiss for now. Then at my place. Those were for now. And that’s what tonight is, too. For now.”

He took two steps closer to her.

“I may be just a rodeo hand, Kalli,” he said with a thread of amusement in his voice, “but I do know my tenses. I said I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.” All amusement left. “That’s present tense. Now. Right now.”

They looked at each other. That was all. He didn’t move any closer. He didn’t say anything. But she could feel her heartbeat react to his presence. She could hear her breathing grow shallower and quicker.

When he moved, it was almost a relief. But the relief was short-lived.

He stopped in front of her, so close that a deep breath could bring them together. He made no move to take her in his arms, no effort to kiss her. He simply stood and looked at her.

Heat seemed to roll off him, seeping into her bloodstream.

Kalli shivered and thought a little wildly that she hadn’t known she could shiver from heat.

She swayed with the impact of that inner fire, brushing unintentionally against Walker. A sound escaped her, blending with his stifled groan. Still he didn’t reach for her. The second time she brushed against him, it wasn’t unintentional, and she reveled in the tremor of his muscles as much as in her own pleasure. Breathing became an adventure, rewarding her with small points of contact, punishing with separation. But when she eased back barely enough to separate their bodies, he locked his muscles and did not let himself follow.

And she understood. He waited for her declaration that she was tired of pretending she didn’t want him.

And it
was
pretending. It had been for a long time. Maybe from the moment he’d walked into the rodeo office and back into her life. Maybe from the moment she’d walked out of his life.

Keeping her gaze on his face, she reached up and caught the brim of his hat. Deliberately, she eased it off his head, revealing his face as he had at Sunset Rock, lowering it to her side, then disposing of it by opening her fingers.

She opened the clip holding her hair, and let that drop, too.

Then she leaned in, brushing against him. And not pulling back.

As a declaration, it wasn’t very eloquent, but Walker understood it.

NEVER BREAKING THE
look, Walker leaned closer, closer. Until she could feel his breath across her lips and her eyelids became too heavy to hold up.

He didn’t hurry. He didn’t crush her mouth, but took it slowly and completely. He outlined her lips with his tongue once, then slid it inside her mouth, a possession.

She put her arms around his shoulders for support, and to press closer. His hands grasped the back of her robe at the waist in balled fists that rubbed from shoulder blade to hip and back.

The kiss deepened, tongues meeting, touching, retreating, thrusting.

The press and movement of his chest against hers rubbed the material of her gown over breasts grown heavy and tender. When he dropped one hand to cover the curve of her buttocks and draw her lower body tight against his, the ridge under his jeans felt hot and stiff against her abdomen.

Kalli’s knees gave slightly, weakened by such pleasure. That weakness had a reward, for it brought them into closer alignment.

His hands dipped lower, under the robe and gown, dragging them up haphazardly so his broad palms and strong fingers spread across her buttocks. He moved against her—beyond suggestion to a blatant statement of desire. She answered by pressing against his hands, then more strongly against his groin.

She felt the heat flare in his body, like a fire fed by a splash of gasoline, and knew she would burn up in it. But she couldn’t step away.

At last—too soon—their mouths parted, both of them gasping for air as if the fire had consumed all their oxygen. For a long moment, they looked at each other, regaining some measure of breath. But not of steadiness.

“Do you want to go to my room?” Her words came out in a curiously formal voice.

He muttered a curse, then rested his forehead against hers and drew in a breath. “Unless you want me to take you right here.”

She leaned back enough to see his expression, and wondered at the atavistic thrill she felt knowing he meant every word.

Civilization won out. She took his hand and led him the few steps down the hall to her bedroom. Once across the threshold, he came up next to her with one long stride and they approached the bed side by side.

She hesitated, and he seemed to sense it, turning her into his arms almost before she realized she’d gone still.

One of his big, roughened hands rose to the wisps of hair that had curled from the shower’s moisture. “You smell so good, Kalli. Clean and bright. I should take a shower.”

She shook her head, all hesitation gone. She unbuttoned his shirt, fingers moving quickly despite not being entirely steady. He stood quiet under her hands, though she felt his breathing speed up. But when her bands went to his belt buckle and the backs of her fingers brushed against the hot skin that covered his flat, hard belly, the muscles there jerked and he sucked in a breath.

“No shower,” she ordered, smiling a little at the sense of power he gave her. “You smell like you.”

The quirk of his brows and the lopsided grin showed he was unconvinced. Still, he pushed her robe off her shoulders, and she cooperated, shifting her arms so it drifted down, over her hands, along the slick surface of her gown and to the floor.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

He kissed her, long and deep, the rhythm of it communicating to their bodies, until they moved against each other with the same tempo.

Backing off a few inches, he released her mouth. A breath of fear stirred across her at the separation.

Then he slid his hands between them, stroking her breasts through the silky material, and what stirred through her had nothing to do with fear.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, then seemed to rouse himself. “Kalli, a quick shower—”

“No.” She’d waited ten years for him; she wouldn’t leave any opening for fear to drive a wedge between them now.

“No, I like the way you smell.”

His fingers found her nipples, circling them lightly, then with more pressure, then lightly again. And she wanted more. She wanted his mouth on them as it had been at Sunset Rock. And she wanted even more than that. She wanted him. All of him.

“Like a barn, you mean?” Even short of breath, his voice sounded wry. He’d dropped one strap off her shoulder and slipped his hand inside the loosened neck of her gown to resume his magical torment on bare skin.

Sliding his shirt down his arms, she deprived herself of the pleasure he gave to free him of the covering and to satisfy her own need to stroke her palms across the power of his chest. He made a slight sound as she pressed her lips to his collarbone.

“Like dust and leather and animal and sagebrush,” she finally answered.

Her kisses traveled lower, until she pressed one to the skin where the back of her fingers had brushed before. With her tongue, she circled the area, just above the open belt buckle, while her fingers opened the snap.

“That’s it,” he said in a voice that declared he’d finished trying to make her see reason. A voice drained of patience and resistance.

His muscles under her mouth clenched, then Walker was in motion.

The gown came off her in a hurry. Her back met the mattress the same way as he tumbled her into bed. He stretched atop her, kissing her deep and long, but not nearly long enough, as he pushed himself upright.

“Don’t move,” he ordered as he yanked off boots and jeans. As if she’d had any intention of moving, when her lungs burned and her bones melted at the sight of his long, hard body, etched and molded by the years and the work to something so fine it made her eyes fill.

And then there was only the frenzy of trying to get enough of each other when it couldn’t be done, no matter how much they kissed and touched and kissed again.

His mouth at the back of her knee. His palm caressing her calf and sole. His tongue tracing the curve of her neck and shoulder.

Her fingers finding the flat brown circle of his nipple and drawing a groan from him. Her teeth pressed lightly into his earlobe, then soothing with her tongue.

His knee between hers, spreading her legs so she opened a place for him.

Her feet stroking against the back of his calves as he moved against her.

The only pause came when he shifted to draw on the condom he’d pulled from a pocket. Suddenly, she felt shy, of him, of the process. They hadn’t ever bothered before. But the world had changed. Circumstances had changed. They had changed. And he was, indeed, a good man.

He bowed his back to kiss her waist, tasting her skin with his tongue and lips, then moving lower. Heat, such heat. And a fizzing in her muscles that made it impossible to hold still. But the last thing she wanted was to move away from this spot, this moment, this man, so she was left to small movements, shifting and squirming. His mouth moved lower still, pressing a kiss against her that made her gasp— an inarticulate sound she hardly recognized as her own.