Cooking For Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers) (9 page)

Chad met her eyes and her breath caught. Looking beyond the longing, she saw what could only be described as adoration and respect in those mesmerizing azure depths. No man had ever looked at her that way. The potency of his gaze both frightened and thrilled her.

He cupped her breasts with his hands, leaned forward and kissed her deeply. He dipped his head and resumed his ministrations to her aching nipples. Sierra heard herself sigh aloud.

After a few minutes, he shifted her around, settling her in front of him with her back to his chest. His hand slipped inside her bikini bottoms, and Sierra shamelessly spread her legs, allowing him total access. She gasped as his fingers felt the folds in the skin and gently parted the lips. His lips nibbled on her neck while he slipped one finger inside her, and then another. She closed her eyes and savored the exquisite feeling as his thumb found her clit. His movements drove her crazy as his talented hands played her body the way a virtuoso violinist fingered a Stradivarius. Shivers of pleasure raced throughout her entire body in accompaniment. God, it felt so good; she might pass out from the sensations that were surging through her.

Making love in a heated backyard Jacuzzi gave new meaning to ‘hot sex’.

She reached behind her, slipped her hand inside his trunks and grasped his impressive erection. She moved her hand in slow, sensual, teasing strokes.

“Oh, God, Sierra. That feels so good,” he gasped and kissed the top of her shoulder. “But it’s been so long... I’m not going to last if you keep...”

“I know. Me either. I...I...,” she gasped.

His fingers moved within her and his thumb worked her clitoris until she thought she’d die. She attended to his needs, matching his rhythm with her own. Her hips moved, rotating. She pushed her body against his hand, urgently seeking release.

He broke contact with her body, causing her to whimper in frustration. “Don’t stop,” she moaned. She didn’t want slow, sensual, she needed now!

“Turn around,” he whispered. She stood and faced him.

He pulled her bikini bottoms down and tossed them over his head. She heard their watery landing somewhere on the deck floor.

“Straddle me,” he whispered, and she willingly complied.

Two fingers slipped inside her again with ease. His thumb continued working her clit while his other hand reached behind, massaging each buttock in turn while pulling her closer. Her hands rested on his arms. She squeezed her eyes shut, threw her head back, panting.

“Open your eyes, Sierra. Look at me. I want to look into your eyes when you come.”

Sierra’s eyes popped open and she thrust against his hand, moving her hips faster still.

“Come for me, Sierra,” he whispered.

Sierra couldn’t catch her breath. She felt on the edge of an abyss, poised to leap. Closer, closer. “Oh, my. Oh, my,” she gasped.

“Just let go,” he whispered.

“Chad,” she exclaimed as an orgasm sent her soaring.

A searing kiss swallowed his name on her lips, preventing the sound from traveling on the night air. He ground against her body, and his rapid breathing told her he was nearing his own climax. She slipped her hand inside his trunks and wrapped her fingers around his pulsing erection. His arms shook slightly, sweat glistened on his chest, and his hips quickened their tempo.

“Your turn,” she whispered.

He met her eyes and a second later she felt his member pulsing in her hand as he achieved his own release.

“Sierra!” he gasped.

Her hand drained every drop of ejaculate from his body, and he collapsed against her, burying his face in her hair.

She removed her hand from his bathing suit and wrapped her arms around his neck, plastered herself against him. His arms encircled her, holding her tight. She never wanted to let him go. For several minutes, their bodies remained pressed together while their breathing returned to normal and their orgasms subsided.

“Are you okay?” he whispered in her ear.

“More than okay,” she replied. She’d needed that more than she knew.

He pulled back, met her eyes and smiled. “I apologize for the urgency. It’s been a long time for me…”

She released her breath, returned his smile. “You have no idea how long... I couldn’t hold back either.”

He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she whispered.

“I feel like a damn teenager. Jacking off with my girlfriend, not wanting to go all the way and risk getting her pregnant.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t have a condom with me, and things had gone way beyond stopping…”

“I know.” She sighed, still straddling him.

“When I suggested we meet in the hot tub, I never dreamt things would go this far…” He brushed a strand of wet hair off her damp forehead. “Any regrets?”

“None,” she replied immediately.

“Wanna go again?” he whispered, grinning. “Maybe in a bed this time.”

She laughed. Oh, yeah, she did! But she said, “I think we’d better get some sleep. Morning starts early around here.”

“Okay. Next time, we’ll do it right.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips. “I hope there’s a next time, Sierra.”

“Me, too.” She exited the tub, scooted over to the lounge chair, and wrapped herself in the bath towel. She searched for her bikini top and bottom on the deck floor and then headed toward the door.

“I’ll cover the tub.” Chad stood up still wearing his trunks, climbed out of the tub and collected the wine bottle and glasses.

“Thanks for cleaning up.” Sierra opened the door. “Come on, Barney,” she called.

Chad crossed the floor and brushed her lips with a kiss. “You’re very special. Good night, Sierra. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” she responded, and then disappeared inside with Barney on her heels.

Minutes later, she stood in her en suite asking herself, what on earth had she gotten herself into? She’d agreed to move to the ranch and cook for a week or two until he hired another cook. When had making out with the boss in a hot tub entered the equation?

Mind you, it had been one hell of an equation!

Thank goodness, no one had wandered out to the deck and caught them. She’d learned that mornings on the Whispering Pines started at dawn. Everyone on the ranch must have been asleep by that hour. She certainly hoped so.

And what did
you’re very special
mean? Her brain was too tired to even guess at what he’d meant by that.

Sierra tossed her bikini into the sink to wash later, and then hopped into a steamy shower to rinse the hot tub chemicals off her body. She toweled off, lathered her body with lotion, and then slipped into a pair of silky baby doll pajamas. She dipped her bikini in cold water, hung it to dry on a towel rack, and then brushed her teeth.

Sierra crouched down, ruffled her dog’s long floppy ears, and kissed the top of his head before pointing to the corner. “Goodnight, Barney.” The dog trotted over, turned in a circle and flopped onto his doggie bed.

“Good boy. I’ll see you in the morning.” Sierra crawled into her own bed and pulled the sheet up to her chin. Doggie toenails and silk sheets didn’t match, but Barney had been good about staying in his previously seldom-used bed at night.

Only a couple days on the ranch and it felt much longer. She’d never been so busy in her life. Menu planning, food orders, gardening…she’d loved every minute of it. Especially the time she’d spent with Chad in the hot tub tonight.

She tossed and turned for several hours, attempting to discern what he meant by
you’re very special
. After the fiasco with the co-worker at Christmastime, she’d promised herself she’d concentrate on work. She’d even changed jobs, resolved to expend all of her energy on her career. Now she’d agreed to cook for a man who’d entered her life and immediately shattered that hard veneer of resolve as easily as cracking an egg shell. How had that happened? They were definitely attracted to each other. Was their evening together more than just casual sex?

When she finally fell into a restless sleep, Chad Parker filled her dreams.

* * *

Next morning, Sierra groaned when the damn rooster jolted her out of an erotic dream involving Chad, a tropical desert island, and a naked luau for two. To make matters worse, today was Canada Day Monday and Chad’s mother was coming home from the hospital. Sierra reluctantly dragged herself out of bed and prepared herself for the worst.

Hours later, she paced the kitchen floor and glanced at the wall clock. Ten minutes past ten. Chad headed into the city right after breakfast to pick up his mother at the hospital. They would soon arrive at the ranch and Sierra dreaded meeting the woman. Was she as totally unreasonable as Chad and Celia claimed? Was she absolutely unwilling to work with anyone deemed to be, at least in her eyes, her replacement?

Maybe she had a relapse or was ordered to stay awhile longer in the hospital. Sierra heard voices coming from the back hallway. No such luck.

A moment later, Chad wheeled his mother through the side door where the ranch hands had built a wheelchair ramp during the woman’s week-long absence from the ranch. Would Mrs. Parker even appreciate their thoughtfulness? Sierra couldn’t help noticing the woman’s brand-new, expensive-looking wheelchair as they rounded the corner. Something else she probably didn’t appreciate. Sierra’s grandmother had suffered from MS, also, and she would have given her eyeteeth to own it.

“How are the horses performing at Ponoka?” demanded Chad’s mother.

“Good times and penalty-free runs,” answered Chad, sounding exasperated. “Don’t worry about the horses. Or anything, except behaving yourself, doing what the doctors told you, and getting your strength back from being in the hospital.”

“I’m fine. I don’t see why you stayed home. You should be in Ponoka, not here, hovering over me like I’m some damn invalid,” complained Mrs. Parker, scowling.

“Don’t worry about it, Mom. Tonight’s the last race anyway.” Chad rolled her wheelchair soundlessly into the living room. Tears sprang to Sierra’s eyes as she recalled the one persistent squeaky wheel on her grandmother’s old second-hand wheelchair. She brushed the unshed tears away, and her nerves jangled as she followed them down the hallway.

Sierra could buy herself gourmet groceries for three months with the money Mrs. Parker’s outfit—floral linen pantsuit, silk white blouse, tan Italian-leather flats, and designer leather handbag—probably cost. There wasn’t an obviously dyed blonde hair out of place, and the make-up on her slightly wrinkled face appeared expertly applied. Except for the scowl, she didn’t look like someone who’d just been released from the hospital.

Sunshine streamed through the row of floor-to-ceiling windows, its brilliance in total contrast to Mrs. Parker’s obviously gloomy mood.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Parker,” called Celia, as she entered the room.

The sentiment went unacknowledged.

“Let me introduce you to our new cook, Sierra Griffin,” continued Celia, ignoring the woman’s rude rebuff. “She is a trained chef, but she’s agreed to help us out for awhile.”

“Humph!” Mrs. Parker glared at Sierra. “No better cook than the rest of us.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Parker.” Sierra forced a smile onto her face while holding her tongue over the implied insult. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“Well, that will prove rather difficult. Chad informs me that I am banished from my own kitchen.” Mrs. Parker glared at her son and then returned her attention to Sierra. “I suppose that’s your doing.”

“Actually, I told Chad that there are several duties that you can perform while sitting in a wheelchair.” Sierra stood a little taller and kept the smile on her face. Her grandmother taught her that coddling someone with a disability was not a good idea. She hadn’t felt this nervous around someone in years, but Sierra needed to take charge or she’d never win the woman’s respect. “You’re absolutely welcome in my kitchen.”

“
Your
kitchen?” spat Mrs. Parker.

“Yes,
my
kitchen. Whatever eating establishment I’m hired to oversee, whether a high-end restaurant or a diversified rural operation like this ranch,
I
am in charge. Let there be no mistake about that.” Sierra pointed to her chest as she spoke. “I do, however, welcome anyone willing to assist me in my kitchen providing they work under my direction and comply with my rules.”

“Is that right?” Mrs. Parker glared daggers at Sierra. “Sounds to me like you require taking down a peg or two.”

“If that’s your opinion, then we won’t be working together after all. Chad, please explain to your mother that, as you suggested, she is banned from my kitchen until her attitude improves.” Sierra turned on her heel and headed out the door.

She paused unseen in the hallway to eavesdrop, eager to hear how Chad handled the situation. What would she do if he took his mother’s side over hers? She’d settled into the ranch routine surprisingly well, and she’d hate to lose this job now. At least not until she’d heard back from one of the restaurants or hotels where she’d applied.

“Are you going to allow her to speak to me that way, Chad?” Mrs. Parker shouted at her son. “I insist you fire that insubordinate woman immediately.”

“On the contrary, Mom, I wholeheartedly agree with her.”

To Sierra, Chad appeared to be speaking through gritted teeth.

“What?” Mrs. Parker yelled.

“Mom, you don’t even know Sierra and yet you’ve criticized her for no reason. I’m sorry, but you’re not permitted in the kitchen.” Chad met eyes with his mother.

“Where will I take my meals?” Mrs. Parker held her head high, her defiance evident, her voice and attitude haughty.

“In your bedroom or in the formal dining room,” suggested Chad, sounding exasperated.

“And where will everyone else eat?” inquired Mrs. Parker

“The rest of the family and ranch help will eat in the kitchen around the table, as usual.”

“And I’ll be eating by myself in the dining room?”

“Yes.” Chad nodded his head, emphatically. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”

Mrs. Parker gasped.

“I’m not hiring another cook until Sierra resigns when she lands a more suitable position. So, Mom, please don’t criticize her meals.”