02 Buck Naked (10 page)

“Let that stuff be and come on over here,” he coaxed. “I love to lie here and look up at the sky through the leaves.”

Tentatively, she eased down beside him. He slid his arm around her so her head was resting on his shoulder.

“When I was a kid,” he said, “I loved to go outside at this time of day, lie down, watch the sun fade and the first stars come out. I thought it was nature’s miracle.”

“And where did you do this as a kid?”

His body tensed against her. “Wyoming. A million miles from here.”

“Wyoming’s not that far.”

“It is as far as I’m concerned. Let’s not spoil a nice night with unpleasant thoughts.”

She would have asked him what he meant by that, but he shifted his body so his face hovered over hers. He barely brushed her lips with his before pressing more firmly. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, demanding entrance. She opened for him and his hot tongue swept in to devour her.

At the first touch of the kiss, heat washed through her. Amy wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She loved the pure masculine taste of him and his earthy scent that teased at her nose. He cupped her face, holding her as he plundered her mouth, sparking every nerve in her body.

When he broke the kiss, it was to trail his lips across her cheek and down her neck, licking at the sensitive spot beneath her ear. Then his mouth was at the hollow of her throat, sucking lightly as her pulse beat wildly against his mouth. As his mouth explored her neck and her throat, one hand drifted to her T-shirt and tugged it loose from the waistband of her jeans.

The touch of his hand on her bare skin seared her, sending shards of heat to her throbbing nipples and straight to her cunt. Somehow, while still holding her, he managed to unfasten her bra and cup her naked breast in a warm palm. She moaned softly at his touch, arching up into him.

He lifted her, moved her, moved his clever hands until both T-shirt and bra were gone and she was naked to the sky. He closed his hot mouth over one nipple, sucking it, pulling it into his mouth. Flicking it with his tongue.

But her own hands weren’t still. She dragged open the snaps on his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders, forcing him to release her long enough to free himself of it. She slipped a hand between them to find his flat nipples and rake her fingernails over them. The little sounds of pleasure he made stirred her even more.

They teased each other with hands and lips and tongues, twisting and turning to touch each other here, there, every place they could reach.

“Boots,” he growled, his lips against her breast. “Never make love with your boots on.”

A hysterical giggle threatened to bubble up from her throat. She suppressed it as she tugged off her boots, watching while Buck removed his. Then jeans and underwear went flying and they were naked on the quilt.

“I should have brought something better than a quilt.” He caressed the length of her body, tracing the indentation at her waist, the line of her hip.

“No.” The giggle burst through. “This makes me feel like a teenager.”

“I should be making love to you on silk sheets, Amy. You’re made for the finest things in life.”

She touched her fingers to his lips. “I’m made for what makes me feel good. Right now it’s this. Here with you.”

She was like liquid silk beneath his touch, her skin smooth and warm. Her breasts filled his palms nicely, her nipples peaking as he tugged and tweaked them. She moved restlessly under him, opening her legs for him as he sought and found the hot, wet heat of her pussy. He separated her folds and found the furled flesh of her clit. Swallowing her little cries of pleasure, he rubbed and teased it as her hips rose to his touch.

When he slid two fingers inside her waiting channel, her muscles clamped down on him. He had to grit his teeth against the pleasure that rose in his own body in response. She gripped his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his skin while she rode his fingers. When he added a third one and pressed his thumb to her clit, she squeezed her thighs around his arm and increased her frantic movements.

He nibbled at her lower lip before slipping his tongue into her mouth again, feasting on her. His cock was so hard he was afraid if he pressed too hard against her, it might snap off.
Jesus
. He couldn’t ever remember wanting a woman this way. This hungrily. This…emotionally. Every place he touched her body electrified him. He was sure he’d never get enough of her.

He watched her face as his fingers worked her higher and higher. Saw her eyes glaze as the orgasm built inside her. Felt her pressing harder and harder against his touch. Then she exploded, head thrown back, the muscles of her pussy gripping his fingers as her liquid poured into his hand.

He took her down easily, still stroking her inner walls, his mouth trailing light kisses over her face and neck. But he gave her little chance to catch her breath. He dug his wallet out of his jeans, extracted a condom and rolled it on with a hand that trembled slightly. He rose over her, pinning her with his gaze, and entered her, his rigid shaft filling her slick channel. She closed around him like a tight fist, making his balls tighten and heat rise from his belly.

He bent his head to capture a nipple with his mouth. Amy bucked against him, wrapping her legs around him. Little sounds of pleasure burst from her throat to drift out on the evening air. He tried to move slowly, make it last.

Take your time, take your time, take your time.

But his body didn’t seem to pay any attention to his brain. The harder Amy moved against him, the more urgent his release became. He slid one hand between them to find her clit again, to rub the sensitive knot. Amy arched up and tightened her legs around him. As soon as he felt the first tremors in her pussy, he increased his speed, driving into her over and over. With the first spasm of her release, he let himself go. He came like a maniac, his cock pulsing hard inside its latex sheath, her body squeezing around him.

Finally emptied, he collapsed forward, barely catching his weight on his forearms. Amy’s breathing was as choppy as his, and he could feel the pounding of her heart against his own chest. They lay there together for what seemed an eternity, wrapped in the feeling of lingering pleasure. It seemed neither of them wanted to break the spell that surrounded them.

Buck twitched when he felt something sting his bare ass and reached behind him to slap at whatever it was.

“A mosquito,” he grumbled, looking at his hand. “I think they see an all-night feast.” He took a moment to kiss her, a soft kiss, full of a feeling that went far beyond sex. “I think we’d better get some clothes on before all that’s left of us are the bones.”

Amy laughed, that musical sound that he loved. “You’re probably right.” She stroked one cheek. “Even though I hate to move.”

“Me too.” He sighed, rose to his feet and held out a hand to help her up.

They shook out their clothes to disrupt any insects that might be crawling around and dressed, staring at each other with loopy grins on their faces. When they were fully clad again, Buck pulled Amy into his arms, brushed the hair from her face.

“I don’t deserve you,” he told her, “but I’m going to do my best to earn you.”

Her forehead creased in a frown. “You keep saying things like that. Are you ever going to tell me why?”

“One of these days. When the time is right.” He kissed her again, just a brief brush of mouth over mouth. Then he gave her ass a gentle slap. “Let’s get going while there’s still light left to see.”

They raced each other across the pastures, laughing like idiots. When they neared the barn, they slowed to a walk to cool the horses. Buck pulled Shadow Dancer up next to her and reached for her hand.

“If Cade Hannigan bothers you again, I want you to tell me about it.”

“Listen, Buck—

“No. You listen. Even if we had nothing going, I’d take the hide off a man who treated a woman that way. But now this becomes personal to me.”

From the look in her eyes, he wondered if she could see clear through him.

“Is this?” she asked. “Personal?”

Much more so than he’d ever expected.

“Yes,” he said at last. “Definitely.”

Chapter Six

Amy sipped at a glass of wine and looked around the hotel ballroom. It was decked out with every type of paraphernalia and decoration that related to ranching. In back of the podium hung the enormous banner that said
Cattleman’s Association
in flowing script. Although every male was in formal attire, most of the tuxedos were western cut, and a lot of the ties were the familiar bolo. Many of the women wore enough jewels to make a serious dent in the national debt.

Dinner had been pleasant. They sat with Reenie and Matt and two couples they knew, and her brother had done a good job of getting Buck involved in the conversation. By the end of the meal, Buck was chatting easily with the two men—or as easily as he did anything with strangers. She wondered what had happened in his past to make him so reticent and withdrawn in new situations. He certainly hadn’t been the day they’d met on the highway, but she wondered if he hadn’t been playing a role then too.

When the music started, he led her to the dance floor, moving gracefully with her in time to the music.

“You must do a lot of dancing to be this good,” she commented.

“Not really.” He tightened his hold on her. “Maybe it’s just my partner.”

As they left the dance floor, one of the men from dinner snagged him and drew him into a conversation with two other ranchers. Amy got her wine and stood off to the side, waiting and watching. She knew he’d get back to her when he could. She was just glad to see more people reaching out to him.

“You’d better have saved a dance for me.”

Cade’s voice startled her. She hadn’t been aware of him coming up behind her. When he rested his hand on her shoulder, she deliberately shrugged it off.

“I’m busy, Cade. Go away.”

Roughly, he turned her to face him, his fingers bruising her skin. She wrinkled her nose as a whiff of his breath, thick with alcohol, washed over her.

“You won’t be so busy when you hear what I’ve got to say.”

“You’re drunk. Nothing you say could interest me.” His face was so close to hers she felt nausea rise in her throat.

“This will. It’s about the no-good rodeo cowboy you’ve taken up with.”

Amy frowned. “Rodeo cowboy? I don’t understand.”

But her stomach knotted with dread. She realized why there had been something familiar about Buck from the beginning. If this was all true, she and Matt had seen him ride in a couple of the bigger rodeos they’d attended.

“Ask him.” Cade sneered. “Ask him about when he rode as Narsimha. You know what that means? Lion Among Men. More like a snake in the grass, if you ask me.”

Again, she tried to break away from him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about and I don’t care.”

“You should.” His grip on her shoulders tightened until it was almost painful. “Ask him about the drunk tank in jails all over the west. And about the girl he raped. Why do you think he doesn’t drink anymore? Why he settled in a place where no one ever heard of him?”

“You’re a liar, ” she snapped. “I don’t believe a word you say.”

He shrugged. “Okay, but if that’s so, you can’t lose anything by asking him. Go ahead. You’ll be damn glad to come crawling back to me when you find out the truth.”

Amy felt the blood drain from her head. For a moment, she wondered if she would faint. This couldn’t be true, what Cade was saying. It was impossible. Buck didn’t even drink. Not anything alcoholic.

But what if it was? What if that was the past he kept hidden? The reason behind his conflicting actions? She pushed hard at Cade until she was free and stalked over to where Buck was still talking.

He broke off the conversation as she approached, concern lining his face.

“What happened?” he asked. “You’re white as a sheet.”

She dug her nails into her palms to keep her hands from shaking and pasted on a fake smile. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she apologized. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to borrow Buck for a few moments. I promise to return him in good shape.”

“No problem,” one of them said. “Buck, we’ll pick this up later where we left off.”

“Thanks.” He looked down at Amy. “What’s this all about?” he asked.

She shook her head and tugged on his hand, urging him to follow her. “Not until we’re out of this room.”

When they were outside and away from everyone, she turned to face him. The look on his face was a mixture of puzzlement and dread.

“Who is Narsimha?” she demanded, and had the painful satisfaction of seeing him turn pale. “I asked you a question. Are you going to answer me?”

Every muscle in his face tightened and his hands curled into fists.

“Where did you hear that name?” he demanded. “Who’s been talking to you?”

“What does it matter?” She took a deep breath and tried to stop trembling. I just want to know if it’s the truth? What I heard about him. About you. Tell me, Buck.”

He just stood there, his face a mask, but fury raged in his eyes. “And I just want to know who said anything to you about it, and what they said.”