Along Came a Cowboy, page 19
“Nothing happened,” she said quickly. “My mother always wanted me to smile, follow the rules and look pretty because nobody likes an argumentative brat. But as I got older she just wanted me out of sight. I realized later that I was holding her back.”
“Do you still see her?” he asked.
“Not since I moved out.”
“How old were you when you left?”
“Fifteen.”
She felt him flinch.
“It wasn’t that bad,” she said. “I had lots of friends with kind parents and managed to couch surf until I finished school. One of the moms gave me a part-time job in their public relations office and encouraged me to go to community college.”
When she’d graduated, she’d accepted the first job offered—a clerical position at the Mustang River Ranch—solely because it included room and board as well as a built-in family.
Carter was silent for so long she thought he might have fallen asleep, which was a pity because she was wide awake now and the sky was beautiful. Stars twinkled, exactly as they had the night she’d been sitting high in the tree with Janet discussing old boyfriends, mother moose and their favorite pizza toppings. And though the Big Dipper was still in the same place, as was Polaris, somehow they looked friendlier with Carter beside her. Even if she had bored him to sleep.
Still, his body felt too taut for him to be sleeping. His breathing had a definite hitch, an unevenness that hadn’t been there minutes ago. Maybe he didn’t want to hold her close any longer. No doubt he was turned off. Her upbringing hadn’t been traditional. But his next words were unexpected.
“So that’s why you don’t like to be alone. I realize I’m the last man you want to be with out here.” He blew out a tortured breath. “But you don’t have to be afraid of me, Allie. Believe me, I would never hurt a woman.”
“What are you talking about?” She reached up to touch his face, confused and trying to feel his expression.
“My file,” he said, sounding more resigned now than anything. “I gather you’ve seen it. That must scare you. That accusation is the reason I left the circuit.”
She could only gape. He was worried about her reaction to him? Not her past?
“I don’t read staff files,” she said slowly. “Guests only. So I can help them have a better experience on the ranch.”
And then because she needed to be honest, she added, “Although I did check you out on the Internet. And if you’re talking about your ex’s dropped charge, I gathered it was a revenge thing. I’m sure everyone thought that. Certainly Sharon did or she wouldn’t have hired you.”
He sighed and it was obvious the charge had left him deeply hurt. It was tragic that he’d walked away from a career he loved because of it. But she understood firsthand how hard it was to let go of old baggage.
“I’m definitely not afraid to be alone with you,” she added. “Nobody on the ranch is, including your many fans.”
He still didn’t speak and it was apparent he believed the accusation was still on everyone’s mind.
“Besides,” she said, blowing out a theatrical sigh. “I thought we were talking about me. Not that court case that was so boring everyone’s forgotten about it.”
His mouth smiled beneath her fingers and she realized she was still touching his face. Imagine that. She was lying in Carter’s arms, caressing the stubble on his jaw, talking about the most painful times in their lives. And it felt natural.
“The case didn’t actually go to court,” he said after a moment. “Jenica didn’t want all the details brought up. She’d done some rotten things.”
“Like stealing your horses?”
“She didn’t just steal them. She shipped them to Canada.”
“Is Canada such a bad place? I mean, it’s a big country but maybe you could still find them. I could help.” Her voice lifted with hope. She was savvy with social media and she’d love the chance to reunite him with his horses, especially the old gray one called Smokey.
But she felt Carter’s head shake. “She sent them to a slaughterhouse. By the time I tracked them down, they were gone.”
Allie jerked in horror, her hand dropping from his face. “The bitch!”
“No, that was on me,” he said. “I left them unprotected and didn’t tell anyone we’d split up. I went to a rodeo and no one thought anything was wrong when she showed up with a trailer. I should have anticipated she’d lash out. Deep down, she wasn’t a nice person.”
Cruel and vindictive were the words Allie would have chosen. She still couldn’t get her head around it. From the Internet reports, she knew the horses had been enjoying a good life on Carter’s ranch. Smokey had been his horse since he was a kid. How could a person do that?
“Jenica wanted to hurt me,” Carter said. “She succeeded.”
Allie couldn’t stop blinking and realized tears were stinging her eyes. And that Carter was wiping them away with his thumb, soothing her when she should be comforting him. She didn’t know what to say or do, only that her heart ached for him.
She leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. At least, that’s where she meant it to land. But he shifted and her lips touched—not his stubbled jaw—but his warm mouth. She stilled, remembering how quickly he shut down female advances, and no wonder. That witch Jenica would make any man run.
But Carter wasn’t running. In fact, his hand slid around the base of her neck, holding her in place, so that even if she had wanted to pull away it would have been difficult. No, not difficult—impossible. Because no woman would choose to stop a kiss like this.
She gave a breathy sigh as he tilted her head further back, capturing her lips, her tongue, her thoughts, taking her mouth as if it were his own. The steely planes of his body pressed against her and she couldn’t seem to get close enough. His hand cupped her breast, honing in on her nipple beneath her bra, caressing it to a fine point even as he kissed her senseless.
When he lifted his mouth, she groaned in protest.
“Maybe you should rest?” he murmured.
“I’m not tired.” She tried to pull his head back, but he resisted. She had a better idea and reached down, cupping the bulge in the front of his jeans.
“Sure you’re up for this?” he asked, his breath warm against her neck.
“Give me a second to think about it,” she said, already tugging at his belt buckle. He chuckled even as she slid down the zipper and pushed the buckle out of the way. It was one of those big shiny silver ones, no doubt won at a world-famous rodeo and polished by numerous buckle bunnies.
She froze in frustration, thinking of all the previous women and his knowing chuckle.
“Still thinking?” he drawled, his voice so slow and deliberate it was obvious he was feeling some frustration of his own.
“Just wondering if I should have brought my own brand of silver polish. This is rather sudden. You don’t notch that belt or anything, do you?”
“Not for years, Allie,” he said. He pulled his hand off her breast and cupped her face. “And I’ve wanted you for months. So much I could barely look at you.”
“Really?” Relief burst inside her and happiness leaked out the sides of her mouth.
“You had me tied up in knots.”
“But why were you so aloof?”
“I thought you were too pretty to be real,” he said. “And that you had too many admirers to need one more.”
“That’s rather short-sighted,” she said, her hands still cupping his buckle. And then she couldn’t resist lowering her fingers and tracing the bulge in his jeans. Damn, he was impressive.
“Definitely short-sighted,” he said. “Because you’re amazing in every way.”
He went on to talk about her courage and stamina and toughness, and normally she’d love to listen to his beautiful voice list all the ways she was exceptional, but it was becoming difficult to concentrate.
“I think I’ve found something quite exceptional too,” she said, finally succeeding in lowering his zipper and wrapping her hands around him. He jutted out, big and pulsating and velvety smooth on the tip. “Does this thing work as good as it feels?”
“Let’s see,” he growled, flipping her over so quickly she was flat on her back before she had time to squeal.
He unzipped her jeans, not even bothering to remove them. He just slid his big hand beneath her panties and cupped her mound. Then one deft finger found her clit, honing in on it like radar.
She arched in surprise, then pleasure. He was barely touching her, just the little brush of that finger but already she felt her body melt, her insides pulsing. All she wanted now was for him to continue with that knowing hand.
“Usually I like a little more kissing,” she managed, “But this is okay. At least for me.”
She heard his low laugh, felt his other hand tugging her jeans lower and was so impatient to help, she almost wiggled out of them. Not that he needed any help. He was immensely talented. From one kiss to having her jeans around her ankles in two short minutes.
Maybe he’d learned to hurry between rodeo events. She had a vivid image of him servicing eager women between the bull chutes but since she was now the beneficiary of that experience, she didn’t begrudge him. At least, not at the moment.
And she was going to climax any second and that would totally ruin her enjoyment of his other equipment. She hadn’t even had the chance to run her hand over his ripped chest and feel all that muscle. It was like she was being cheated. Especially if this was a one-off.
She hoped it wasn’t. But there was something a little mechanical, his actions too smoothly practiced, as if she were just another female he was coaxing to spread her legs. And the realization left her feeling like she’d been splashed with ice water.
Naturally a man who was so attuned to a woman’s body sensed her withdrawal.
“Not liking that,” he murmured, adjusting his fingers. “How about this?”
Not a brush now but a slow and gentle squeeze. Damn, he knew his way around female parts. But she could feel his watchful eyes, like this was a routine he’d practiced hundreds of times. Making sure she was good and wet before he entered.
She reached down and grabbed his hand. “It’s good,” she said. “You’re great.”
“What’s wrong then?”
“I just feel like you’re not really into it. Into me.”
“I want to be,” he said, his voice low. He slid his other hand along the inside of her thigh, skimming it higher. And damn, didn’t her traitorous legs widen.
“It’s just...you’re too controlled,” she panted, pushing the words out at the same time that she decided it didn’t really matter.
His hand stilled and that was fortunate because he could easily make her stop thinking.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “And I’m big. If I make the woman climax first, it’s easier on them.”
Ah, and there was the rub. The woman. Like she could be any willing female. And he’d used the word make. As if her feelings had nothing to do with it.
“It’s not a competition,” she said, trying to speak lightly. No man liked his sexual prowess criticized and she already knew Carter could put up thick walls. “It’s about feelings.”
“Fine,” he said. “If you don’t have the feelings for this, that’s okay.”
He rolled over on his back and crossed his arms, obviously horny as hell. She could see his jutting hardness, pointing toward the sky like a majestic oak.
She itched to stroke him but guessed he’d never had to work very hard for sex, or even for a quick blow job. Maybe most of his relationships had been the casual variety. “How many girlfriends have you had?” she asked.
He tipped his head toward her. “What’s your definition of girlfriend?” There was no longer any defensiveness in his voice, just curiosity, and she had to give him full marks for a fast recovery. He wasn’t the type to sulk. She liked that. Although perhaps he didn’t want to make love as much as she did. And she didn’t like that idea at all.
“A girlfriend is someone you hang out with,” she said. “Someone you sleep with more than a couple times.”
“Okay. But you have to understand that on the rodeo circuit we were only in a town for a short time. So there wasn’t much opportunity to hang out afterwards.” He gave a little chuckle. “And there was definitely no sleeping.”
Score one for me, she thought. She’d already slept with him about eight times if one counted naps. “So a lot of casual hook-ups then?”
“Yeah, except for Jenica,” he said. “But in my defense, I was usually highly graded.”
She bolted upright. The moonlight outlined his face, and he didn’t appear to be joking. “What do you mean? Graded?”
“Some of the rodeo groupies kept their own scorecards,” he said. “And those ladies were tough with their points. We were always terrified afterwards.”
She gaped then couldn’t stop giggling. He reached over and pulled her into his chest, all soft cotton and hard muscle. She could feel his chest rumbling with shared laughter.
“It’s not funny,” he said. “I was fifteen my first time, and I earned a minus six.”
“Honestly,” she said, still laughing. “All you’d have to do is hold me like this and you’d earn plenty of points. The rest is gravy.”
“Really? I’d like to check the veracity of that.”
“Veracity?” Still smiling, she unbuttoned the top of his shirt. “Who even uses that word?”
“Someone who’s desperately trying to impress you,” he said, and he no longer sounded like he was joking.
She ran her hand over his chest, opened another button, then slid her hand in and caressed his skin. His chest was ripped and iron hard and she took her time, relishing the leisurely exploration of his chest, his nipples, his hard abs. She opened more buttons then pressed her lips over his warm skin, skimming the trail of hair leading to the open waistband of his jeans.
His breathing quickened but he kept his arms around her.
“I’m used to a set routine,” he muttered, his voice so thick now it was hardly recognizable. “How long is my holding you supposed to last?”
“It’s never too long,” she whispered, sliding her hand lower, following the smattering of hair as it thickened. Then she wrapped her hand around him, stroking, feeling, enjoying. She shifted from his arms, slipping lower so she could slide her tongue over his bulbous tip, then move her mouth along his thick shaft. He was like a smorgasbord, an unexpected one she wanted to enjoy—
“I think I got it,” he said, flipping her over. He flattened one big hand over her hip, his eyes holding hers as he reached down and unlaced her boots. He yanked them both off, tossing them aside with a thud. Then he tugged off her jeans and panties.
His shoulders blocked the moonlight but his need was obvious, and that was much more gratifying than his earlier purposefulness. Although she seemed to have lost control since she still hadn’t gotten his shirt off.
“Take off your—” Her words faded into a surprised whoosh as he shoved her thighs wide and lowered his head. Then he feasted. There was no other way to describe it. She groaned, knowing she should stop him or this would be over before it even started. And she wanted to keep her state of arousal, didn’t want to fall asleep too soon. But his mouth and tongue left her boneless. She had a vague sense of surprise, had assumed someone like him would be the recipient of oral sex, not the generous giver. Then she quit thinking as her body exploded in a quivering climax.
She felt like melted butter as he carefully rearranged her arms and legs. And now he was taking off his shirt, just as she’d asked. Unfortunately she didn’t have the strength to enjoy it. Couldn’t even rouse enough energy to place her hand over his chest. She hoped he didn’t expect her to be on top. No doubt, his set routine included enthusiastic female participation, and she didn’t want to be a woman with no bottom.
“That was great,” she mumbled, her body and brain so tired it could barely find the proper words. “I just need a minute to rest and then... What are you doing?”
He hadn’t shifted over her, hadn’t pulled her on top in expectation of a vigorous ride. In fact, he was lying on his side, holding her against his chest. One hand stroked her hair, the movement slow and gentle, exactly as she liked, while the other arm wrapped around her. “Sleep, sweetheart.”
Her face was tucked against his chest, his masculinity surrounding her like a comforting blanket. But she couldn’t fall asleep. That was hardly fair to him. “Don’t you want to... Oh, I see. Is this your set routine?”
“No,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Carter tugged Allie closer, cradling her head against his shoulder. She didn’t wake and her deep breathing remained unchanged, reinforcing the wisdom of his decision. She needed sleep far more than he needed sex. And if holding her was what she wanted, that’s what he would give her. There’d be plenty of time for more later. Hopefully.
He stared over her head, scanning the shadows of the river, the shoreline so dark it was hard to see where the water separated from the land. No way would Dwight risk traveling at night when it would be impossible to see their trail. He might not even be following. Maybe he’d cut his losses and run.
On the other hand, the man was desperate. He hadn’t killed his wife so that he could hide in a third-world country. Worse, he knew Carter was unarmed; Man Tracker rules were posted and public. He probably considered Carter more of an inconvenience than a threat. No doubt, Dwight would try to take him out first, then Allie. And Dwight had a hatchet.
Carter glanced down at the sleeping woman tucked against his chest. Allie depended on him, and while he knew some guys who were skilled at hand-to-hand combat, he wasn’t one of them. He’d certainly never had to fight for a woman before, and definitely not for her life.
He’d been a teen when he started competing at rodeos. But he’d been big for his age and sex had been plentiful—generally with tough, more experienced ladies happy to teach him the ropes. Still, speed had been of the essence and no one cared to linger. Just as the rodeo moved on, so had his sexual partners.
