The White Cowboy - Complete BWWM Romance Box Set (6 page)

"Dish towel?"

"Under the sink."

She proceeded to dry everything, but left it all on the counter for him to put away. He would later. He couldn't risk touching her again.

He thought he might explode if they made more than casual contact.

How was he going to get around the next three days? He'd have a permanent hard-on for sure. His dick hadn't wanted someone so badly in, well, ever. He wouldn't be able to walk, and his pants would be tight.

The next three days would be the hardest (no pun intended) he'd ever been through.

Finally, Gemma returned to her seat by the counter. He could breathe again. He tasted his sauce.

"Can I taste?"

That would require her to come over there. Close to him. But he couldn't think of a plausible reason for her not to. "Okay."

He found a spoon, handed it to her, then stepped back. He watched the spoon go in her mouth, then out again. Kind of what he wanted to do to her.

She licked her lips, then her eyes closed.

Damn.

"That's really good."

Her eyes lit up as she smiled. Her words warmed him.

"Thanks."

She took a step toward him. He took a step back. "We're going to have to talk about this thing between us."

And there it was. That straightforwardness he'd hoped she would keep in check. "Why?"

"Because I'll be here for three days. Three nights."

Her voice became husky. Was she seducing him? He coughed. He had to agree the nights would be long.

She put a hand on his chest.

The pasta water chose that moment to boil over. He lunged past her to the pot, turning down the burner.

"You escaped this time, but we really need to deal with this."

***

Saved by the boiling water from doing something so stupid.

Like kissing him or shoving her hands under that soft plaid shirt to feel the hard muscles Gemma knew were underneath. Her fingers twitched at the idea of touching his bare skin.

They would tingle or hum, but she wouldn't have stopped touching and exploring. She escaped to the safety of the stool on the other side of the island.

She caught her breath as he dealt with the overflowing pot. He didn't turn back to her when he had the situation under control.

Maybe that was better. She was hungry and would deal better with the situation on a full stomach.

"Wine?" he said finally.

Would alcohol make it worse or better? "Sure."

He pulled a bottle out of wine rack under the counter. She'd hadn't noticed it. In a minute, she had a glass full of red wine. She took a sip.

"What is it?"

"A Malbec. I like it with tomato sauce."

"It's nice. Fruity and a lot of depth."

"You a wine connoisseur?"

"I know what I like. One of the restaurants my family owns has an extensive wine list. When I worked there, I had to learn it."

"You worked there?"

"I had to work in every place we owned. My parents made me earn my keep,"  she said. "Did you think I was a princess?"

"I hadn't thought that deeply, but you do have a brand new car."

"I do, and yes, my Dad paid for it. I have to pay him back."

Brandon nodded. He plated the pasta and put one in front of Gemma. Good, because she was starved.

***

Brandon liked that Gemma enjoyed his food. She didn't pick at her plate, but dug in as if she always ate heartily. Jessica had been too skinny and too particular about what she ate.

He wondered if someone in Hollywood would tell Gemma she had to lose weight. She wasn't fat. She had enough for a man to hold onto. He thought her losing weight would be sad.

Then he thought of her naked. He took a swig of wine to moisten his parched throat. He had to stop thinking of her that way.

"So you have a good work ethic," he said.

"I do."

The conversation faltered there, and he searched his brain for another topic. Oh, wait. Music. "How long have you been playing the guitar?"

"As long as I can remember. You play an instrument?"

He laughed. "No. Not musical at all."

"You don't even sing in the shower?"

"No, I don't."

"Wow. My life revolves around music. I can't imagine not singing in the shower. Or everywhere."

Now he was thinking about her in the shower. Could he get her to make other noises besides singing? He took another swig of wine. He had to get his mind out of the gutter.

"I didn't grow up in a house with music, I guess," he said.

She twirled the pasta onto her fork. He couldn't help but watch her fingers and think of them around him. Touching him. Caressing him.

"Shame. Would it be okay if I played after dinner?"

"Be my guest."

A silence fell between them. Not tension-filled, but one that long-time friends could endure. She put her plate in the sink, then filled it up with soapy water.

He watched her efficient movements. She took his plate, and dumped it into the sink. She gathered all of the items to be washed before she started anything.

Then she was done. He was still sipping his wine. Smiling at him, she dried her hands on a towel. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For dinner and taking me back in. I'm sure you enjoy your solitude."

He nodded. "I couldn't leave you stranded. Not my nature."

Her turn to nod. She stood as if she didn't want to leave his presence. Then she frowned. "I'll get back to my guitar."

***

Gemma sat by the newly-built fire, guitar on her lap. The dog curled up on the rug in front of the warmth. Brandon still had his wine glass as he sat on another chair.

A homey tableau, but not really her home. She strummed lightly, then sang some songs she thought Brandon might know.

He settled his head on the back of his chair, his eyes closed. Was she lulling him to sleep?

After about a half hour, she'd had her fix, and put away her guitar.

"That was great, thanks," he said.

His eyes hung half-mast. He had his legs out in front of him, with stocking-feet crossed at the ankles. He'd already finished his wine and put the glass on the floor.

"You're welcome."

She rocked in the chair, looking at the fire. They still hadn't dealt with their attraction. It niggled at her brain as unfinished business. "I have a proposition for you."

He sat up straighter. "Oh?"

She bit her lip, then decided to go big. "We are clearly attracted to each other. We could spend the next three days avoiding each other."

"Or?"

"We could embrace the passion. Let's have three days we both can enjoy, then move on with our lives."

He visibly gulped. "You mean, no strings attached?"

She cocked her head, but she remained smiling. "Yes, sex with no promises."

He blinked a few times. She wasn't sure what his hesitation was. What guy wouldn't want sex with not attachments? When her car was fixed, she would go on her merry way. He'd go back to his life. She'd go on with hers.

"Uh..."

"What's holding you back?"

"I've never been offered something like this. I'm weighing the pros and cons."

She laughed. "Really? I've just offered you sex with no long-term contract. You have to think about that?"

He rubbed a hand down his face. "No, I guess I really don't."

CHAPTER TEN

Before she could change her mind, Brandon was next to her chair, pulling her out of it, and kissing her like a starving man.

Her lips softened under his onslaught, so he lightened the kiss. But she must have gotten the idea, because she slid her hands under his shirt. Only because he had to take a breath did he release her lips.

Her dark eyes were even darker. He hoped it was from passion.

"Wow," she said softly.

He leaned down and kissed her neck, taking in the scent of peaches. His hands dove into her hair. She unbuttoned his shirt, and his hand found her breast and cupped it over her top.

"Bedroom," he gasped out.

With a strength he didn't know he possessed, he picked her up, striding to his bedroom. When he got there, he placed her on the edge of the bed.

Her lips were swollen from his kiss, her eyes molten. She licked her lips, then reached out to finish her unbuttoning job. She only stopped when he tugged off her shirt.

His gaze took in her body. Her breasts peeked over a purple bra, and he just wanted to memorize the sight of her. He'd keep that memory for cold winter nights.

She reached behind, then flipped off her bra He had no idea where it landed. Then he took those amazing mounds in his hands, first flicking one nipple lightly, then the other.

He heard her gasp as she ripped off his shirt. Her hands moved up and down his chest. He had to get his pants off before his dick broke his zipper.

As if she read his mind, she removed his pants and underwear. With a soft hand, she held him.

"If you move a millimeter, I might explode," he said.

She smiled. Letting go, she slid off her pants and panties. Nothing stood between them. Once again, he memorized every curve of her body. Then he gently pushed her back onto the bed.

He ran his finger down her middle, then stopped just above her pubis. She kept her hair trimmed and neat, and he could see that her lips glistened.

He let his finger slid down and then into her, his thumb on her clitoris. She lifted her hips.

She was wet, and so ready for him.

***

Gemma's eyes fell closed. She wanted to watch this gorgeous man and his gorgeous body, but he was doing things to her that she just had to enjoy.

She spread her legs wider so he'd get a better angle. He gently pumped his finger in and out. Then she was gone. The tension in her exploded like a thousand lights behind her eyelids.

With a groan, she came, her toes curling, her fingers grasping the bedspread. Her breath came out in pants. She'd never had an orgasm that strong. Such a release of over a day of tension between them.

Now they could get down to business.

When she finally opened her eyes, Brandon stood grinning at her. She scooted further onto the bed. "Here. Now."

He climbed on top of her, sliding his hard body up hers. With hands planted on either side of her head, he kissed her again. Soft, sweet, but demanding. She returned his passion, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth.

He pushed himself up. "Now?"

"Now," she demanded. She might explode if he didn't enter her now.

Could he see what he was doing to her?

So he complied, sliding his length into her slowly. He must be trying to torture her. She'd give him what he wanted. If he needed state secrets, she'd talk. Her grandmother's recipe for cannolis, done. Whatever he wanted, just so that he would let her take him completely.

She grabbed his hips, then pulled him. She heard a soft chuckle in her ear.

He didn't move for a moment, then he began to move in and out. In and out. She wrapped her legs around him. Her fingers dug into his back.

Slowly at first, he moved on top of her. Then faster and faster. Until she arched her back and came once again. With a grunt, he followed her over the edge.

***

Gemma lay curled in his arms. Brandon couldn't have moved if the bed had been on fire. They'd crawled under the covers and hadn't budged since then.

He stroked her hair, content as a cat that had a saucer of milk. He'd never felt so satisfied in his life.

"Brandon?"

Oh no. This wasn't going to be the mistake speech, was it? He braced himself. But she wasn't moving away from him. He didn't think she was in a hurry to leave anymore.

"I'm glad we did that."

He couldn't help smiling. "So am I. Good suggestion."

She snuggled closer, then chuckled. "You would have taken too long to get there if I hadn't said something."

He couldn't argue with her. He'd been raised a gentlemen, and gentlemen didn't suggest to stranger that they have sex with no strings. "Well, I wouldn't have known how to broach the subject."

"Probably not, and for all you know, I might have run screaming from your house."

"You wouldn't have gotten far."

"No, I wouldn't have, and then things would be even more awkward."

"I hope they aren't awkward now," he said.

"No, they won't. I'm just not sure how I'm going to keep my hands off of you," she said.

He liked that idea. There were many places to have sex in the house. In the barn, too. He had a heater out there. They could go for a real roll in the hay. "Well, I do still have to take care of the animals. And we have to eat."

She laughed. "I'll help with the chores."

"You don't have to."

"I want to. Earn my keep, and if we both do the chores, then we have more time for this."

He liked how she thought.

***

When Gemma woke the next morning, Brandon wasn't in bed. She smelled bacon and heard whistling. So much for not being musical.

She wasn't ready to get up, but she had promised to help him with chores. She stretched, feeling twinges of rarely used muscles now sore.

They'd woken up in the night and made love again. This time, a little slower and softer. Now Gemma was mush. Putty in Brandon's hands.

As long as he wasn't putty in her hands, she'd be happy.

Spike still lay next to her, and she stroked his soft fur. He licked her hand. She thought it was funny the dog had opted to stay with her.

Where had the animal been during their lovemaking? Didn't really matter. The dog knew his place. He snuggled closer to her, and she liked the feel of him.

Maybe she'd get an animal when she settled in California. She had no allergies, so she could choose a dog or a cat.

Those thoughts were for another day. Right now, she was in Iowa with a hunk of a man who made a great meal and could make love to her until she couldn't speak. No need to think beyond that for now.

Before she could get out of bed, Brandon appeared in the doorway. He had a smile on his face that matched hers. He'd pulled on jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt. She loved the smattering of hair on his chest.

"Rise and shine. Breakfast is ready," he said.

He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss her. She took in the ease with which he sat there. She liked being naked in his bed. Maybe too much, but she'd figure that out another day.

She ran a finger down his chest. "I guess I better get up. I need to get my suitcase. I need to find some clothes."

"You can attend breakfast naked. I won't mind."

She laughed. "But would we actually eat breakfast? No, give me one of your shirts." He retrieved a long shirt from a drawer and handed it to her. She sat up and pulled it over her head. "Now I'm ready for breakfast. I don't want to be responsible for your animals going hungry."

He patted her leg, then stood. "Good, because I've worked up an appetite."

"What's on tap for today?"

He sat back down on the bed, his fingers interlocked with hers. "We have to tend to the animals. That's the sum total of my day. Sorry. Not that exciting."

She reached out to touch him with her other hand. She couldn't stop doing it. As if she needed to know he was still real. "We'll have our excitement in bed."

He smiled down at her hand. He patted it. "That's a good attitude. Life on a farm isn't easy."

"I'm not afraid of hard work," she said.

He smiled, something he was doing more frequently. "Good. It will be nice to have someone to help me, even if it is for a short time."

She shifted out from under the covers. "I'm still going to the open mike night. I'm itching to perform," she said. It would be nice to be up in front of people. "Will you come see me?"

"That won't make you nervous?"

An odd thought. She loved to perform. "No. The more people in the audience the better."

He mulled that over. "Okay. I will."

She smiled. "Good. I also had an idea."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"How about I help you write down your recipes?" she asked.

She cocked her head, waiting for his answer. She didn't want to overstep her bounds, but if she could help him on his way to his dream, then she'd feel better about him when she left.

He looked at her for a moment. "You wouldn't mind?"

She squeezed his arm. "Of course not. Let's see how much work we can get done while I'm here."

He smiled. "I think this is the beginning of a wonderful three days."