Catch Me A Cowboy (27 page)

Emily chuckled as she chimed her glass to his. ‘Yes. May there be plenty more.' She swallowed a mouthful and rested her glass on the table. ‘You must notice the quiet. Here on your own?'

He held his wine on his lap, hand cupping the curve of the glass. ‘Yes. I thought I didn't mind the silence and my own company until I was reminded of what it could be like to share this space.'

She smiled. ‘With twenty beautiful women traipsing through here, you'd have to get used to it pretty quick.'

He shook his head. ‘No. I'm only talking about one woman, Em. You. You've reminded me that it's so much more pleasurable to have company.'

She nodded slowly as she reached for her glass, needing to hide the warmth in her cheeks. Taking a sip, she looked at him from over the rim. He was so sexy it drove her wild. But to complement that with more charm than she'd ever encountered, overwhelmed her mind and senses.

‘Thank you. That's very sweet,' she said.

Wil leant back against the couch, relaxed. ‘So what did you get up to today?'

She smiled. ‘Absolutely nothing. The girls went out and I had the place to myself. It was a nice break.'

‘What would an ordinary day consist of for you in Melbourne?'

Emily sipped at her wine. ‘Work. Sometimes a date on the weekend. Or dinner with friends. Drinks on a Friday afternoon if I don't have late appointments or an open house too early Saturday morning. Then if I'm feeling really adventurous, snuggling on the couch with Fifi to watch a movie together.'

‘Fifi? Is she a … friend?'

Emily laughed. ‘No, she's my cat.'

‘So you're a cat person?'

‘I like cats. But I find Daisy cute too.' She smiled. ‘When she's not jumping at me in the dark.'

‘Does Fifi like dogs?'

Emily's brow furrowed. ‘Not sure. She's never seen one.' Then the penny dropped. He was wondering if Fifi and Daisy would get along if the future insisted such a meeting were to take place. ‘I'm sure she'd adjust if she had to.'

‘Good to know.' He leant forward and drank a swallow of wine. ‘So tell me about your job. You are obviously invested in it?'

Emily nodded. ‘Invested would be the correct description. Obsessed might be another.'

‘You must enjoy it if you've done so well.'

‘I do. For the most part, I love real estate.'

‘What about it exactly?'

Gosh, she'd never had anyone probe her like this before. She sipped her wine while she thought of her answer. ‘For starters, I love homes. Not the structures themselves, but what they become when people put their stamp on it. I get a rush stepping into the lives others have made for themselves. And every home is different, even if, architecturally, it's the same. There are little idiosyncrasies that no two people share—they're like windows into people's personalities.'

Wil nodded and watched her closely as she spoke.

‘And I feel like I have a natural intuition about what people are looking for. I love seeing their faces light up when I show them their perfect home.' She laughed. ‘It's so funny sometimes. They all try and hide their natural emotions from me, but they never can. It's like the atmosphere changes. And their eyes brighten. I liken finding the perfect home to someone meeting their soul mate.'

‘Like that feeling I was talking to you about. That
something
that doesn't have any words to describe, yet is felt so palpably.'

‘It's exactly like that. It's a privilege to be able to help people with that process. I'm like a home matchmaker.'

Wil laughed. ‘A great title. You could put that on your business cards.'

‘I could. Emily Wolfe. Home matchmaker. Helping you find your soul property.'

‘Perfect,' he said, chuckling, but as he looked away his expression soon faded.

‘What's the matter?' she asked.

He attempted a smile, but it was strained. ‘I don't expect you to give that up, Emily. When you've found your calling in life, you don't give it up.'

Her heart sank into her knotted stomach. ‘What … what do you mean?'

He shook his head. ‘I'm not sure what I'm trying to say.' He blew out a long breath. ‘I want you to be happy. Above anything else.' His forehead wrinkled. He frowned. ‘I can't make you give up your life to move out here with me. You'd resent me.'

She inhaled deeply. ‘Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't.'

He scrubbed his palm along his chin. ‘By demanding that of you, is basically implying that what I've built here is more important than what you've spent so many years creating for yourself. Who am I to assume that? About anyone. But then I think about the moment I first laid eyes on you, and the sensation that came upon me like I was home. I want, with every part of me, to make this—us—work. Don't you?'

She nodded. She did. But she wasn't sure how it possibly could.

‘You said you wanted to. You said you could move here to be with me. But seeing your face just now, the way your career illuminates you, I'm not sure you mean it.'

Emily lowered her gaze to the coffee table. She leant forward and placed her glass down. ‘I'm not sure what I want.'

His frown grew deeper as he nodded. ‘I thought so,' he whispered. ‘What is this then? When I asked you if you were serious, were you pretending?'

She shook her head quickly. ‘No. No, Wil. I wasn't. I was telling the absolute truth. I am serious about us. About you. So serious that it scares the hell out of me. And any resistance I have is because I've never had to do anything like this before. I've never had to give my lifestyle up for a man, and I'm unsure how I will react when it comes to the crunch. Surely, you can understand my insecurity and indecision.'

He sighed but nodded. ‘Of course I understand.' He raked a hand through his hair. ‘I've been hurt like this before, Em. My ex-wife, she said all the right things, but always, in her heart, she dreamed of the city. The city won in the end. I don't want to make that same mistake again. I won't.'

Emily shook her head. She couldn't think about the future now because there was so much uncertainty residing there. She was only concerned with now and how this man made her feel. But that's what this show did. It took real life, shoved it in an enclosed space and pressed fast forward. It made her think about things she wouldn't ordinarily contemplate.

They both needed to take a step back and look at what was happening between them from outside the show's perspective. ‘I think we're rushing this conversation. We don't have to be so serious, do we? This time we have together is about getting to know each other. Exploring our emotions
now.
Seeing if we're compatible. If we had met at a bar, rather than on this show, that's what we'd be doing. We'd be enjoying each other.'

He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned. ‘You're right. You're right. I'm sorry. And I shouldn't be letting my baggage cloud my thinking. That's unreasonable. And ridiculous.'

She smiled and rested her hand on his thigh. ‘But perfectly understandable. You don't want to get hurt again. I get that completely.' In fact, she was the master at it. Every relationship decision she had ever made was done so with heavy baggage stowed on her back.

‘I'm sorry for doubting you,' he said again.

She shook her head. ‘Don't worry about it. Let's just enjoy ourselves.'

He nodded. ‘You're absolutely right.' He sat his wine on the table and stood. Looking down at her, he took her glass from her hand and placed it beside his. He held out his arms. She gripped his hands and he lifted her up until her body was flush to his. Face nearing hers, blue gaze boring into hers, he whispered, ‘I want you, Emily.'

Being so close to him stirred the lust in her belly and stole the breath from her lungs. ‘You have me.'

‘All of you,' he growled.

He didn't give her a chance to answer. He pressed his lips to hers and found her tongue with his own, stroking and sliding. His hand cupped her jaw, the other tugged at her waist. He tasted like sunshine and smelt like earth. Soft stubble prickled her chin as he tilted her head and kissed her deeper, his mouth positioning just right over hers. A gentle mewl sounded in the back of her throat as sensation burned through her, his passion stoking the flames higher. She caressed his broad back, his tight waist, but she wanted skin, flesh on flesh, to ease the ache in her body.

His lips teased hers, sucking and nipping until her legs were weak and she was so hot; if she didn't tug these clothes off she'd disintegrate. Along her jaw and throat, his mouth sucked and kissed, until he found her ear. Warm breath and gentle lips brushed over her as he whispered, ‘Let me taste you deeper.' His words were rich, gravelly, stung between her thighs and tugged at her belly.

Her breaths were thin; she could hear them rasping. Her heart beat strong in her chest. Her skin prickled at the thought of letting him take this further. His hand drifted down her belly, then dove under her skirt up to the apex of her thighs. He stroked, long and slow, over her sex through her knickers. ‘I want to suck and lick and taste this sweetness until you come against my mouth.'

A throb pulsed through her as sweet tension made her muscles taut. To feel him there between her legs was the most delicious sensation. Her O no longer feared being forgotten; this man had no problem whatsoever caressing it to life.

His finger slid along her cleft and pressed a little harder on her clit.

‘Mmmmm,' hissed from her throat. ‘I want to feel you there.' God, she'd give anything to feel his lips and tongue there, not to mention another part of his body.

His hand drifted away. She was panting … for more. He grasped her hand in his, entwining their fingers.

Blue eyes, heavy hooded with arousal, met her gaze. ‘Come, I'll show you my bedroom.' His voice was deep, commanding, full of promise, and she couldn't have denied him if she wanted to.

She nodded and let him lead her out of the lounge room, up the hall to the staircase that steered them up to his room. Her pulse was galloping. Her body was tensing with anticipation.

Inside his room was dark. Wil left the main light off and switched on two side lamps saturating the space with a soft light. Emily stood at the end of the bed, watching him move around the room. He grinned when he met her eyes again and gestured she climb onto the bed.

Her heart pulsed up into her throat.

Bending to slide off her boots, he shook his head. ‘No, they are to stay on.'

She did as he bid and climbed onto the bed, boots and all.

He slipped his own shoes off and crawled across the bed to her side. Rolling inwards to face each other, he stroked a finger down her cheek. His hooded gaze was penetrating.

‘I've wanted you in my bed for too long,' he said, lifting her up with an arm around her back and positioning her in the centre of the mattress. His body perched over hers and his mouth was at her lips, greedily, before she had time to breathe.

She needed his weight upon her, craved the heat of his body against her. She raked her hands down his back and tugged him to her, rolling to meet the hard press of his erection. It shook her deep, to feel him so aroused. She wanted him inside so much her body throbbed for it. She rolled again, pushing against that steely length.

He moaned against her mouth, then pushed up and gazed down at her, tenderly coaxing the hair from her face. ‘You liked that last time?'

She nodded as she recalled how he made her come under that tree with that action alone. ‘I want more than that.'

Half his mouth curled into a grin. ‘Tell me, Em. What do you want?'

She slid her hand down his side until she dipped between their bodies and squeezed his shaft.

His eyes closed as he sighed.

‘I want this inside me.'

When he looked at her again, his features were loose with arousal. ‘I want that too. Hard, fast and deep.'

‘Please.' Her plea was barely a whisper.

‘Oh, Em, you don't have to beg.' Again with that half-smile, he cradled her cheek and licked deep into her mouth. He gripped her buttocks, lifting her to meet his next pelvic rock. His shaft applied just enough friction against to her clit to have her head rolling back and a long sigh streaming from her lips.

‘That's it,' she said, words breathy, desperate.

Emily's stomach tensed, her skin tingled, begging for the driving thrust of his cock inside her. She had never been so invested in sex, in a man's body and the pleasure it could bring, but she knew that if he didn't fill her up as deep as he could soon, she would beg.

She raked her nails down the hard line of his back and gripped his t-shirt before pulling it up. To help her, he pushed onto his knees, reached for the hem and lifted his shirt over his head. Her mouth opened on a rushed inhale as she gazed at his glorious body—solid, rippling muscle, straining as he lowered to her again. His arms bulged as they found a position on either side of her head.

‘Oh, my fu … You are gorgeous.' Surging up, she nipped gently at his shoulder, then his pectoral.

His eyes closed, his muscles quaked. ‘Emily Wolfe,' he growled husky and deep. ‘Did you just bite me?'

She nodded. ‘I think I just did.' Her voice was weak and raspy to her own ears. It surprised her to hear the need in each word.

‘Are you trying to make me lose control?'

Yes. No. Hell, the control issue was with her.

He grabbed her dress and pulled it up her body. She manoeuvred, lifting her back from the bed to help him hitch it over her head. Before she rested back on the mattress, he reached behind and released her breasts from her bra. Under his gaze, her nipples hardened. His mouth was on her breast before she could think, lips warm and yielding as he sucked greedily at the taut peaks. Her back arched, pushing the plump mound up to his mouth. She couldn't get enough of how good it felt. She gripped his hair hard, too emblazoned with desire and sensation to restrain.