Authors: Melissa Cutler

Tags: #General, #Fiction

The Trouble With Cowboys (29 page)

BOOK: The Trouble With Cowboys

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He sure hoped she didn’t need him to say pretty words to express what he felt, because he couldn’t think of any right now.

He walked behind her and brushed her body with his. Her nervous fingers stopped picking at the rope, but she didn’t turn. So he wrapped his arms across her chest and pulled her securely against him. Resting her head against his collarbone, she closed her eyes. Her hands came up over his arms, embracing him.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way about yourself. Please don’t ever change who you are. Not for me, not for anybody.”

A tear landed on his forearm. “That’s what Mr. Dixon said.”

“Smart man. Did he give you any other advice?”

She snorted and maybe laughed a little. Another tear landed on his skin. “He told me if I wanted to be with you, I should be with you, Amarex lawsuit or not.” Turning in his arms, she snaked her hands around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Thank you for helping my family by stepping forward as a witness. I knew when I saw Matt Roenick’s card in the paperwork from your briefcase that you weren’t out to get us along with Amarex. Then Matt told us that the lawsuit would probably be rescinded in light of the criminal investigation and Morton’s arrest.” A fresh round of tears pooled in her big, brown eyes. “And all because of you.”

He squeezed his arms. She felt so perfect there, warm and soft and smelling of flowers like she always did. He didn’t even mind her curly brown hair tickling the underside of his chin. “I know whose side I’m on. I’m not going to let Amarex bankrupt you or kick you off your land. Not without waging war against them in return.” Another fat tear made its way toward her mouth. He flicked it away with his finger. “I owe you a thank you too . . . for everything. For touching your tornado down in my corner of the world and opening my eyes to so many things I was missing before.”

She was quiet and still. He held fast to her and kissed her temple. She lifted her face to look at him. A tear trickled over her cheek, landing on her lip. Her tongue darted out to taste it.

Kellan’s self-control cracked wide open. He threaded his fingers through her hair and slanted his mouth over hers, teasing her lips until she opened for him with a breathy little sigh. He delved deeper, stroking her tongue with his. Relishing the taste and feel of this wonderment in his arms. Amy Sorentino, in all her beautiful, passionate, nutty complexity. His Amy.

Her hands slid under his shirt, spanning his back, sending ripples of sensation straight to his groin. He was a disaster from the long workday, sweaty and dusty, but she didn’t seem to care and he wasn’t about to stop and shower. He’d get to that eventually, but he couldn’t get the idea of taking her against the stable wall out of his head. He wanted her there, then in his shower, then again on the sofa under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

He felt wild, out of control in a way he’d never experienced. His blood pounded through his body, throbbing in his cock, urging him to tear her clothes off, sink into her, and claim her as his own. He wanted
Kellan Reed
written all over her body, in the flush of her skin, the tightening pebbles of her nipples, the moisture he could picture gathering between her thighs as her body prepared to take him. No man but him. He wanted to brand her being with his love.

Frightened, he tore his lips from hers and held her at arm’s length. “Amy, walk away now, or so help me, I’m going to take you right here in this stable and it won’t be gentle. I don’t have the strength to go slow.”

She stepped back, bumping into the post that held the rope. He fisted his hands at his sides, breathing hard. He’d never wanted anything as desperately, as uncontrollably, as he wanted her. And she’d backed away. He would respect that. He would let her go. For now.

She melted against the post, gripping the rope above her head with one hand. Her other hand went to the waist of her jeans and popped the button open. “I never did like it slow.”

Amy did her best, but she couldn’t get her pants off fast enough.

Kellan must’ve agreed because the moment she touched her zipper, he knelt before her and yanked the jeans to the ground. Her panties followed, his rough hands snagging on the silk. A rush of cool air tingled against her skin. His fingertip found her clit, then slipped lower. Two fingers pushed inside her.

“You’re so wet for me.” His voice was thick with desire, his fingers deft in their movement. “So wet and tight and ready to take me inside you.”

“I want you, Kellan. Badly.”

He added a third finger deep inside her and curled to stroke her g-spot. “You want to get fucked by a cowboy in his stable, is that it?”

Pleasure swept through her, swift and brutal. Damn, she loved that he talked dirty. Turned her on big-time, even though he had the wrong idea about what she wanted. She fisted a hand in his hair and forced his gaze to meet hers. “No. I want to get fucked by you—doesn’t matter where, as long as it’s you.”

She must’ve given the right answer because he stood and took her mouth ravenously, crushing her against the post, swallowing her moans. She gripped the rope hard, its coarse fibers cutting into her skin. She couldn’t move, pinned by the weight of his torso and impaled as she was on his fingers.

When his hands and mouth left her body, she groaned and opened her eyes. His missing fingers left an aching vacuum in her body. His gaze, blazing with intent, locked with hers as he released his straining erection from his jeans. She let go of the rope and reached for it. She stroked, milking a drop of moisture out.

Kellan groaned and thrust into her hand. From his pocket, he brought out his wallet, then a condom. As he rolled it on, she grabbed the rope again in anticipation of their bodies joining. The post wasn’t going to be comfortable against her back, but she wanted him too much to care. Then his hands locked around her wrists, pulling her from where she stood.

He led her to a saddle sitting on the floor and straddled it. Through his open jeans, his erection curved up to his belly button, dark red beneath the clear latex and hard as steel—waiting for her. “Is this cowboy enough for you?” His words were harsh, verging on angry. But she sensed the vulnerability behind them.

It was his second mention of her fantasy, like he thought that was the only reason she wanted him. Time to prove him wrong once and for all. She tossed his hat across the room and swung a leg over the saddle. Hovering over him, she took his face in her hands and locked her eyes on his.

“I don’t want you to make love to me because you want to satisfy some fantasy of mine. I’m over that. When you’re with me, you better bring your whole self, not just the cowboy part.”

He pulled his face back, clearly caught off guard. She smoothed her hands over his hair. Not that it mattered. Unruly as it was, it sprung into wild curls almost immediately. She tucked a strand behind his ear.

“I thought that was the part you wanted.”

“Of course I think of you as a cowboy. It’s who you are.” He made a noise of protest that she stopped with a finger over his lips. “But it’s only a piece of you. You’re also a boy from Florida with instant mashed potatoes in his cupboard and cinnamon-scented candles on his mantel. You’re the man who stands up for what he believes in and takes care of the people in his life. You’re the man I love.” She cupped her palm over his cheek. “I want you—all of you.”

He looked at her with a terribly serious expression, so she smiled teasingly. “Although I must say, you do have an impressive knife collection.”

That earned her a grin. “It wasn’t my knife collection I was hoping to impress you with tonight.” Reaching between them, he palmed his erection and stroked it, hardening it even further. Amy watched the erotic display, her inner muscles contracting in anticipation.

“What did you have in mind, cowboy?”

“I want you to ride me, of course.”

Chapter 18

With one hand around the base of his shaft and another spanning her hip, Kellan guided Amy’s body down around him, sheathing him to the hilt. The stable was silent but for their labored breathing and the scrape of Kellan’s boots along the floor as he adjusted his position to support Amy’s weight.

The horn of the saddle cut into the middle of his back, but it was a pain he’d gladly bear because nothing had ever felt as good, as perfect as holding Amy above him, his erection locked within her. She lowered her lips over his and their tongues slid into the other’s mouth. Their bodies breathed into each other, bound in an intimacy more powerful than Kellan had thought possible with another human being. Eye to eye, belly to belly, heart to heart.

Amy stirred first, rotating her hips, squeezing her inner muscles with each deliberate circle. Torturously slow. Kellan fought against his body’s urge to speed up, to drive into her with animalistic force until her rapturous screams echoed off the stable walls. He distracted himself with the feel of Amy’s lips and body, focusing on the obvious pleasure she felt with each rotation.

But a man could only take so much.

With his hands on her hips, he lifted her weight off him so he could move. He thrust up, impaling her, while at the same time pulling her down again. Over and over, until the sound of flesh colliding superseded even Amy’s whimpers of pleasure. Taking his lead, she bounced in rhythm with his hips, faster and faster, until they’d reached a frenetic pace.

It was almost too much. Her breasts moving against his chest, her velvet, wet body gripping him, the tangle of her hair falling over them both.

He watched her reach inside herself, digging for her orgasm, her head thrown back and eyes closed. He delved into the skin of her neck with his teeth and tongue, savoring her sweet, singular taste, wonderful in its familiarity, still as intoxicating as it was the first time they were together.

“Come for me, honey,” he rasped against her neck.

She reached a hand between them, manipulating her flesh, pulling the trigger of her release. She came with a piercing cry, her body bucking wildly, her inner muscles pulsing around him, pushing him over the edge with her. With a final, hard thrust, his world exploded in a shock of pleasure so intense, it hurt.

He pulled her against his chest and held her there. She clung to his shoulders, pressing her cheek to his. Resting his palm against her neck, he felt the life within Amy. Her heartbeat, the expansion and contraction of her lungs, her breath on his shoulder. The quiver of energy inside her, all around his cock.

Something shifted inside him, opening his heart to the idea of a life with Amy Sorentino at its center. The joy, the craziness, the passion. The quiet moments like this, holding her in his arms.

Emotion surged through him, making him light-headed. His heart ached, it was so full. In all his thirty-four years, he’d never experienced anything like it. He tightened his hold on her and brushed his lips across her cheek. She sighed contentedly and burrowed her nose against his neck behind his ear. He felt like crying, the feeling was so magnificent, so eternal. So . . .

Fierce.

He pressed his cheek to hers.

“I love you too, Amy.”

Amy tapped the melody of “I’ll be Home for Christmas” on Kellan’s bare chest as it played on his living room stereo. The soft, multicolored lights of the Christmas tree danced on his skin. The lights probably danced on her bare back, too, but all she felt was Kellan’s hand stroking a pattern up and down her spine.

After a steamy, soap-slick loving on the floor of his shower, Amy had figured they’d crawl into his bed together, but Kellan had other plans. As the night marched ever closer to Christmas Eve, he led her, buck naked, to the living room. From the sofa, wrapped in a quilt, she watched his methodical setting of the mood. First a fire in the fireplace, then music, candles, and Christmas tree lights.

He’d stood over her and peeled the quilt from her body. “I’ve fantasized about taking you on my sofa like this since the day we met.”

Then he’d laid her down, settled on his knees between her legs, and done exactly that. Hours later, she still couldn’t muster the motivation to move upstairs to bed. She was too comfortable snuggled into the heat of his body, with the quilt now covering them both.

She breathed deeply. “You’re on to something with those cinnamon candles.”

“It’s tempting to leave them up year-round, but Vaughn would never let me live it down.”

Grinning, she snuggled closer. “From now on, you can tell them you’re leaving them out for me.”

His hand stopped stroking and hugged her tight. “Amy, when I think about the life we’re going to have together, cinnamon candles don’t even break the top thousand of all the things I’m looking forward to.”

“Maybe not the cinnamon candles, but sex on your saddle definitely makes the list for me.”

She listened to the rumble of his chuckle with her ear pressed to his chest, loving the sound. Loving that she was lying in the arms of the first and only cowboy who’d deserved her love, and who loved her back.

He wound a strand of her hair around his index finger. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t care about the wrecked briefcase, but what did you do with the cooler of beef I brought? The steaks were probably still frozen after we got home from the hospital, the weather was so cold.”

“Don’t worry. I put them in the fridge. I was spitting mad at you at the time, but I couldn’t take it out on those beautiful steaks. We ate them for dinner last night. Your mom loved it. She kept muttering,
Who would’ve guessed? My son, a cattle rancher
, over and over while she ate.”

He unwound her hair from his finger and started again. “Good. I’m glad she enjoyed it. How is she doing?”

“She’s fine. Quiet. Mr. Dixon drives her to the local AA meeting every morning, then she spends most of her time after that going on long walks and playing with Tommy. She seems happy at my house. You need to talk to her, allow her to apologize so she can keep going with her fight to stay sober.”

His body went rigid, but the truth needed to be said. “I know. You’re right. I don’t want to, but I will. After Christmas Eve church service tomorrow night.”

“Good. You won’t regret it.” She paused, chewing the inside of her cheek while she contemplated the wisdom of bringing up another sore subject. With a here-goes-nothing breath, she added, “Have you told your brother about your mom’s plan to go to L.A.?”

“Not yet.”

She didn’t want to push him too hard, but it would be one more tragedy in a family burdened by them to allow this opportunity for reconciliation to slip through their fingers. “Tonight would be a great night to call him.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt.

“You don’t want your mom wandering around L.A. looking for Jake.”

“No, I don’t. But Jake’s not exactly easy to talk to.”

She stroked his hair. “Family seldom is. But you have to try anyway.” She started her hands moving over his chest. Her finger flicked over his nipple and he inhaled through gritted teeth. “Tell you what, cowboy. After you call, I’ll reward you for good behavior.”

He pushed them both to sitting and grabbed his cell phone from the coffee table. “That’s an incentive if I’ve ever heard one.”

For the first time, Kellan wasn’t nervous about calling Jake. He figured there was zero chance Jake would answer. After three rings, Kellan started planning the message he’d leave on voice mail.

Halfway through the fourth ring, Jake answered with a cranky “Hey. What now?”

“Hi. Sorry to call again so late . . .”

“Mmm-hmm.” Jake’s tone oozed skepticism.

“The thing is, Mom came to see me this weekend. I wanted you to know because she’s going to L.A. next.”

“Is she staying at your house?”

“No. She’s staying with my . . .” What was Amy—his girlfriend? The term sounded trite and juvenile. And it didn’t even offer a hint of how deeply in love he was with her.

“Girlfriend?” Amy whispered in suggestion with a shrug.

“My significant other.” Shit. That sounded as awful as
girlfriend
. He needed to get a ring on Amy’s finger, STAT.

“What’s Mom’s angle this time?”

In his peripheral vision, he noticed Amy’s bare breasts and reached for one, cupping the underside, enjoying the heavy weight of it in his hand. Geez, he loved her rack. “Maybe not an angle. She wants to apologize to each of us.”

“The AA thing again?”

He closed his thumb over Amy’s nipple and gave a little tug. She scooted closer and sent him a smile of wicked promise that made the painful conversation with Jake semitolerable. “Yeah. Look, Jake, I’m calling because she says she’s going to search L.A. until she finds you.”

“Christ. I don’t want her out here.”

“You could . . .” Why was this offer so hard to make? Did he fear the rejection he’d most likely get? What a coward. “You could come out here and talk to her on neutral ground. That would keep her from going to L.A.”

“The three of us? Like one big happy family?”

The venom in Jake’s voice mirrored Kellan’s feelings not so long ago. Had he sounded that harsh to other people’s ears? “It’s a start.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

Kellan’s mouth screwed up. He dropped his hand from Amy’s breast. Her arms went around his ribs in a fortifying hug. “I understand.”
Take a breath, man.
“Is it okay if I give her your name and address so she won’t wander aimlessly around the city asking people where to find you?”

“Tell you what—give me the number where she’s staying. She can apologize to me over the phone like she did the last two times.”

He relayed Amy’s phone number to him. “One more thing, Jake.”

“Yeah?” He heard the impatience in Jake’s voice to end the call. Kellan scrunched up his nose. There was so much he wanted to tell his brother, so much he needed from him. The feeling of vulnerability was horrible. He felt like his insides had been cut open, his guts spilling everywhere. “Merry Christmas.”

“Back at you. Have a good one.”

With a click, the line went dead. He cradled the phone in his hands, staring at his feet. Then he remembered Amy’s arms were around him. He hauled her onto his lap and clung to her, comforted by the knowledge that even if he couldn’t make things right with his brother or mom, it was worth the try because, no matter what, he’d have her love to sustain him.

The afternoon of Christmas Eve, Amy waited impatiently in the kitchen for Kellan to arrive, dicing her second bunch of celery to pass the time.

She’d kissed him good-bye at six that morning, ten long hours ago. Despite her wistful desire to laze the day away in his bed, he had work to do and so did Amy. The early-morning work was the only part of Kellan’s being a rancher that she didn’t particularly care for, but she was more than willing to put up with it for the rest of her life if it meant she got to enjoy the millions of other things she loved about him.

She heard the creak of the front door opening, followed by his deep-voiced “Hello?”

“In the kitchen,” she called.

He walked up behind her and kissed her neck. “You’ve got a new member of the welcome committee out front, a real friendly lady.”

“I do?”

He grabbed a stalk of celery and straddled a chair backward. “About yay big, brown eyes, brown hair. Flower behind her ear.”

Amy glanced sideways at him, smiling, and set her knife aside. “That’s Tulip.”

Kellan took a bite of celery. “Never seen one of my cows look so fancy before.”

“She wandered over last week and I was too mad at you to call you about it.”

“And the flowers?”

She scooped the celery into a mixing bowl. “Those are to annoy Rachel.”

“Did they do the trick?”

“You betcha. Check out the picture in the downstairs bathroom.”

He wandered from the room. A minute later, his hoot of laughter shook the walls. Guess he approved of the framed photo hanging over the toilet of Tulip in all her flowery glory.

He took his seat again. “That’s a photograph for the ages. I bet Rachel blew her top when she saw it.”

“She’s taken it down and destroyed it four times. Little does she know that Walmart had a special on picture frames, so I picked up a dozen. She takes one picture down, I put a new one up.”

“That’s right sisterly of you.”

Amy sat next to him. “It is, isn’t it?”

Kellan pulled a string from the celery rib and fiddled with it, nervous like. “Where’s my mom?”

“Upstairs getting primped for church.” She squeezed his forearm. “Are you ready for tonight?”

BOOK: The Trouble With Cowboys

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