A Little White Lie (4 page)

“Or maybe after your jaunt in the wilderness you can join me for dinner?”

“C’mon, darlin’. I’ll have a picnic prepared. Do you like to ride?”

“Horses?” A smile peaked through her apprehension.

He grinned, nodding. Clearly she liked to ride.

“As a child I rode, but—” The cutest blush spread across her face. “I couldn’t possibly interfere with your plans.”

He drew her back into his arms. “Yes. You can. If you don’t want to fish, you can just sit beneath a tree and watch me chase four rowdy boys.” He paused. “Besides, you haven’t seen anything like the majestic mountains of Montana. Water so blue and air so clean and crisp you can see forever. The trees so—” He grew silent when she stared at him with something akin to wonder.

The way she looked at him made him feel exposed, as if she could see his soul—what lay deep in his heart. “You love this place.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. In seconds she had seen in him what his grandfather could never see or refused to see.

“Ranching. Montana. They are in my blood.” It was all he had ever wanted.

She cupped his face. “I wish I had your passion, knew what I really wanted.” Sadness darkened her eyes.

For some silly reason his heart ached for her. At that moment she looked like a lost girl. “Come with me.” He ran a palm up her arm. “Let me show you my world.”

She smiled, softly shaking her head. “Not my thing.”

As he laid her back on the bed, he traced a finger between her breasts. “If I can make you scream my name in less than three minutes, will you join us?”

She raised a haughty brow. “Three minutes?”

“Three minutes.” Already his mouth watered with the thought of parting her thighs and tasting her. “Is it a deal?”

Raising her arms above her head, she stretched like a slinky cat. Her eyes sparkled with impish merriment. “Why not.”

Without delay he covered her lips with his, plunged his tongue into her mouth and devoured her. His fingers plucked at the tips of her breasts, which firmed with each pull. She cried out into his kiss and he deepened the caress. One thing he had discovered about this woman, she loved to be kissed. Her body became putty in his hands as she softened beneath his touch. It was fucking hot. Easing his assault, he sipped lightly from her mouth, before he finally broke the connection. A smile crested on his face as her hands clawed at his shoulders, begging him for more.

Instead of giving her what she wanted he trailed kisses down her chest, abdomen, to the strip of hair below. When he spread her thighs,
revealing the smooth, shaven mound beneath,
he wanted to moan in hunger.
The pink flesh glistened with her juices, the earthy scent making his mouth water.
Blood rushed to his head. For a moment he felt dizzy with anticipation. His cock instantly hardened as he leaned in for a taste.

He slid his tongue across her slit, and she whimpered a sound of naked longing. Jesus Christ. The woman tasted as rich and slick as honey. His hands caressed her waist, moving upward to cup her breasts. Slowly he traced intricate designs around her taut nipples. When she parted her legs and raised her hips asking for more, his tongue plunged between her swollen folds.

She arched violently against him. “JD, please.”

Drawing her thick juices into his mouth, he lapped at her heatedly. As he stared up at her from between her thighs, she was the most erotic creature he had ever lain with.

Her fingers were clenched in the blankets beneath her, an expression of sheer rapture upon her face. “Ahhh.” A shiver raked her and she writhed.

He grasped her hips, sucking her farther into his mouth. His tongue teased the pulse of her sex before circling her clit with firm strokes. Spreading the folds of her pussy apart, he drove his tongue deeper, drinking like a man dying of thirst. He couldn’t get enough.

His pounding erection pressed against the bed and his belly. Engorged testicles throbbed with need. He moaned against her flesh. Damn. He could come this second, but he wouldn’t.

She trembled, thighs quivering. Then her body convulsed. “JD!” The sweetest cry of ecstasy exploded in his ears.

Beneath a whiplash of sensation, pleasure coursed through him. He moved up her body. She was friggin’ hot as he positioned himself between her legs. No sooner did he seat himself deep inside her warmth, fire lanced down his cock. A jet of semen spewed from the narrow slit. Each hard discharge set his heart to pumping wildly.

As the heat of their bodies cooled, he held her close and whispered, “I win,” in her ear.

Chapter Three

Stella Sinclair fishing?

Her girlfriends would be rolling with laughter if they could see her now. She had donned jeans and a short-sleeve western shirt that Toliver had gifted her with. The black boots she wore felt strange and a little stiff, but they were more functional than her stilettos. A chuckle rose. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t look half bad.

Inhaling the cool, clean air untouched by human hands, she wondered at the differences between this crisp morning and the ménage of scents that would be assailing her in New York. As she gazed across acres and acres of rolling hills and open space, she could see why JD was so drawn to this area. If she had to choose one word to describe the panorama it would be “heavenly”.

The fishing hole, as JD had called it, was tucked away on the Yellowstone River. Not a soul was present, but her and him and the four sharp-eyed little eight- to ten-year-olds who hadn’t appeared happy that she had tagged along.

As she stood by the horses they’d ridden to this obscure location, she heard the boy who had been introduced to her as Clifford grumble, “This is a man-card violation.” The lanky youth with angular features pinned his heated gaze on JD as the other three boys snickered.

Stringing a worm on a hook, JD glanced at Clifford. “Man-card violation?”

Stella stifled a giggle behind her hand, which now smelled like horsehair. She knew exactly where the brat was going with the comment. What tickled her was that JD seemed completely oblivious.

“Girl. Fishing.” The “duh” attitude rang in his tone as he shook his black mop of hair so that it swept across his eyes. “This is lame.” He pushed the wayward tendrils aside.

“Shhh.” JD darted a glance her way, but she pretended to be intrigued with the beautiful bay gelding she stroked. “Mind your manners,” he muttered.

“She looks like a city girl,” Chucky, the little redheaded freckle face, added.

For some odd reason the child’s comment hurt. Even with her decked out in authentic cowgirl clothes, the kids recognized that she didn’t belong in Montana or any other Podunk town.

Out of nowhere unexpected tears welled. Her gaze fell to the ground to hide the sudden show of emotion. She swallowed hard, pulling her thoughts to the grin of approval she had received from JD this morning at how she looked. It had made her heart flutter. But now—

Rolling her head from shoulder to shoulder, she attempted to vanquish the rising tension.
Remember, you’re just passing through. Don’t let them bother you
.

But it did.

She’d had the evening of a lifetime wrapped in the arms of a cowboy who gave her more than a night of pleasure. Amazingly, he had held her and talked after they had made love once more. Not about superficial things. He wanted to know about her and even shared his joy of Montana and his life. It had been a soul-enriching experience that had mesmerized her. It sucked that she would have no more than a weekend with this man.

Raising her gaze, she took a moment to watch Trevor, the youngest and smallest of the boys. In one fluid motion, he eased back his pole and flung it forward. The line gracefully soared through the air and splashed a couple hundred feet before him. The gentle current pulled the slack out of the string. He eased down upon the ground, sitting Indian style. Hope and patience played across his adorable face.

Inching her chin higher, she squared her shoulders.
How hard can it be to fish? If he can do it, I can do it.
Fact was she had always been able to do anything she put her mind to.

Fishing? No problem.

Steps of determination carried her to JD’s side. “Which pole is mine?”

One brow rose as he attempted to hide the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.” She spoke with an air of confidence that made her proud.

He handed her the pole he’d been baiting. “Here. You can use this one.”

Stella watched the poor little worm wiggle, wrapping itself around the hook. Her confidence slipped. Nerves skittered across her skin, but she forced a grin and a bleak “Thank you” as she accepted it. With a show of feigned confidence she hid the gulp that swallowed the knot in her throat.

I can do this.

The pole felt awkward in her hands, which trembled slightly. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Clifford press the little thingy on the reel down as he pulled back his rod. When the pole whipped forward, he released his thumb and the line went soaring.

Stella inhaled another shaky breath.

“Do you want some help?” Harrison, a scruffy-looking blond asked. He wiped his runny nose on his sleeve and Stella fought not to cringe. Instead she pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it to him.

“Help? Me? Of course not, but thank you,” she said loud enough so all the boys heard. They turned and looked at her with merriment in their eyes.

Brats.

JD grabbed her free hand. “Let’s go farther downriver.”

Each step brought a wave of trepidation upon her. Still she silently repeated,
I can do this
.

“Your grip should be similar to holding a tennis racket.” He spoke softly as he glanced back at the boys. All four had their interested gazes locked on them. “Press down firmly on the release button and hold it there.” His directions were quiet but swift. “Turn your body about a quarter turn. Bend your arm at the elbow, raising your hand with the rod until it almost reaches eye level. Gently sweep the rod forward, releasing the button.” They stopped where the river widened, and the sound of the rushing water filled her ears. “Oh. One more thing”—he leaned closer and gave her a quick peck on the cheek—“after you cast, reel in the line until you hear a click.” He must have read her confusion because he added, “Secures the line. Have fun.” He gave her the cutest wink, and then he walked back toward the boys.

Unsettling feelings bombarded her. She could face the shark-infested waters of New York, but toss her amongst a handful of kids and one gorgeous cowboy and she literally fell apart. Not only did she want to show the boys she wasn’t just a city girl, she wanted to show JD.

A little voice in the back of her head asked,
Why are you making such a big deal out of this adventure? This cowboy?

Bottom line, she liked JD. She pressed the button down on the reel. Their night together had been beyond amazing. She had never had a man speak so freely about his dreams and aspirations. He wanted to increase the stock, maybe start breeding his own cattle and horses.

Cocking her arm, she pondered the idea of what he would look like in a suit and tie. Without a doubt she knew it would kill his spirit. He loved Montana, his ranch, and he hated New York or anything big-city.

She watched him sneak up behind Trevor and tackle him to the ground. Harrison and Chucky dropped their poles to dog pile atop JD. Their laughter was contagious. Hers bubbled up and spilled out. Stella wasn’t even aware that she had flicked her pole forward, releasing her thumb, until she saw the line soar high and at least ninety feet before her.

Eyes wide with amazement, she cried, “Ohmigod. I did it.” At the last minute she remembered to reel in the line, listening for the click.

JD and the boys stopped what they were doing and streams of approval came her way. Her chest squeezed with excitement. She had actually cast her line without making a total fool of herself. But her enthusiasm died when a firm tug almost pulled the rod out of her hands.

Her fingers tightened around the pole. “Help,” she squealed like a girl.

“You got one,” Harrison yelled. The boys flocked toward her like a gaggle of geese, each chattering and throwing out suggestions as she stood frozen, feet rooted to the ground. Her line zigzagged from one side to the next.

“Fish or reel your lines in,” JD ordered. The boys screeched to a halt and turned, running back to their poles. Chucky and Harrison reeled their lines in and joined JD on his way toward her.

The tension in her pole relaxed and she breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived when the line jerked once again. “What do I do?”

She thought she heard Clifford snort, while Harrison and Chucky yelled in unison, “Reel it in.”

When JD was beside her she pushed the pole toward him, but he held up his hands. “It’s yours, darlin’. Hold the rod with one hand and reel that fish in.”

“Reel?” She glanced down at the lever thingy and mentally shook her head. What an idiot. Heat flared across her cheeks. The tenderness in his eyes and his encouraging smile renewed her confidence.

I can do this.

Gripping the rod, she began turning the handle. The resistance was immediate, surprising her with the strength of the creature on the other end. The pole bowed lower and she feared it would break.