Faith in the Cowboy (Taming the Cowboy) (9 page)

Like a family. She shoved the picture away. "I don't think so."

He shot her a surprised look. "I thought you'd be happy I was doing this."

"I am. I'm glad. But it's already going to be weird for Taylor, without you throwing a strange woman and her daughter into the mix."

He blew out a breath. "I guess I didn't think of that. I thought he might be comfortable with a buffer, you know?"

"He might be, or you might be?"

He lifted an acquiescent hand from the steering wheel. "Well, that, too."

His honesty softened her. She shifted, bringing her knee up on the seat as she turned to him.

“Meanwhile.” He bounced on his seat a bit. “Let’s go get something to eat. Maybe go to a movie.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a movie.

“It’s a little early for dinner, and I don’t know if we’d have the same taste in movies.”

“Ah, now how can you say that? Maybe I’m the one who likes the romantic comedies and you like old westerns.”

“I do not like romantic comedies.”

“No?”

“I like the tear-jerkers.”

He stretched one arm across the back of the seat. “I wouldn’t mind that, letting you cry on my shoulder.”

“I don’t cry on anyone’s shoulder.”

“Not even for fun?”

She turned her head to stare at him.

“Liam said there’s a drive-in in north Las Vegas. Want to go?”

“We’ve already had sex in the truck.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with repeating, but I’m not talking about having sex. Maybe some making out, maybe some inappropriate groping, maybe some crying on my shoulder. Come on, let’s go eat with the old folks and go to the drive-in. You don’t have any other plans, do you?”

She wasn’t so great at last minute plans, but like he said, she had nothing else going on. So she nodded.

*****

Not many people went to the drive-in on Tuesday nights, apparently. That suited West just fine. He hadn’t been able to find what he thought was a tear-jerker, so they settled on a buddy-cop comedy. He’d slid from underneath the steering wheel and looped his arm around her shoulders. A few moments passed before she relaxed into his side, and even shared her popcorn. He trailed his fingers up and down her bare arm, watched her nipples tighten beneath her shirt. Resisting the temptation, he instead glided his fingertips up the side of her throat, beneath her hair, and down again, following the curve of her shoulder. She tensed again, but it was a different tension, and she leaned into him.

Her breathing changed, and she squirmed a little. Getting horny. He could smell her arousal. He thought about soothing that ache, the throbbing in his cock, but ramping it up would be so much more fun.

He cruised his touch up the inside of her arm, down from her elbow to her wrist, back and forth across the soft skin, over her palm, where he made circles that had her fingers flexing around his. He pulled free and continued his caresses—arm, shoulder,  neck, ear, each stroke making her breath hitch. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder, the little sounds she made growing needier.

He couldn’t hold himself back. He draped his hand over her shoulder and teased her nipple through her shirt. She held her breath, holding his touch in place as he stroked lightly.

“West. You said we wouldn’t—”

“Not going to. Does it feel good?”

A whimper emerged from her throat and she pressed her head closer into his shoulder. He chuckled and continued, rolling her nipple between his fingers. She shifted to allow him greater access. He bent his head to her ear and kissed lightly, taking her lobe between his teeth. His name was a gasp on her lips. Damn, he loved how that sound, the surrender of it, went straight to his groin. He wanted her hand on his cock, hell, her mouth, but he’d told her they wouldn’t have sex.

Didn’t stop him from wanting to make her come, from feeling her tighten on his fingers. Just the idea had his cock pulsing. 

She twisted and met his mouth with hers, hot and seeking, her fingers stroking his jaw, sliding into his hair.

He loved this about her, that she was so shy, with those high walls, until he turned her on. Then it was like she couldn’t get close enough. She rose on her knees and cupped his face, then trailed one hand down to his chest. He liked the way she touched him, traced his muscles, stroked his arms.

He glided one hand up her thigh, over the thin fabric of her skirt, pressing his fingers against her pussy just enough to make her moan. He let his fingers trail back down, then beneath, along the inside of her thigh, and brushed over the front of her cotton panties.

“West. You said,” she gasped against his lips, her fingers tight on his jaw.

“Just taking the edge off,” he murmured, and slipped his hand inside the leg band.

Goddamn, she was hot and wet, and his cock throbbed, needing to be inside her. Instead, he pushed a finger into her channel, thrusting shallowly, hooking his finger. She squealed and broke the kiss, burying her face in his throat, spreading her legs wider for his hand. He laughed softly and tapped his thumb against her clit, circling once, twice, three times before she came apart in his arms, her body undulating on the seat, her cream coating his fingers.

When she finally went limp against him, he lifted his hand to his mouth. She turned to watch him lick her juices from his fingers, and her eyes went dark.

“I don’t want to see any more of the movie,” she said, and he couldn’t put the truck in gear fast enough.

*****

West slammed the door of the RV behind them with so much force it bounced open again, and he had to release her long enough to grab it and close it shut before he turned back to her. She was halfway to the bedroom and he pounced with a growl, pinning her to the wall, unfastening his jeans with one hand, pushing aside her skirt with the other.

“I fucking love you in skirts,” he said against her mouth as he shoved her panties aside, then lifted her, guiding his cock to her in the same motion.

Both of them cried out, and Jesus, she was coming, her pussy rippling around him. She tightened her calves about his ass, holding him deep. He could follow her, let his own orgasm rip from him. He’d earned it, holding back for the drive when he’d wanted her to put her hand on him.

But it would be so much sweeter if he could make it last, make her come again.

He ground up into her, so soft, so wet, still fluttering around him. Her breasts crushed against his chest, and he wished he’d taken time to suck on them, hell, even to take her shirt off. He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her, slamming his hand against the wall to hold her up. Her mouth was eager, her little breaths filling his lungs.

He released her mouth and trailed his mouth down her jaw to the curve of her throat, nudging the neckline of her blouse out of the way. He scraped his teeth against her collarbone, felt her clench around him, and it wasn’t enough, holding her to the wall. He needed his hands free.

He staggered to the dinette and sat down, slipping free of her momentarily before grabbing her ass and pulling her over him.

“Fuck me, baby. Make me come.”

She reached between them and brought him to her, lowered her hips onto him, her skirt tangling for a moment, and then he was deep inside her again, so far into her, surrounded by her, by her scent, her softness, her heat. She cradled his face in her hands and looked into his eyes as she rode him.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he managed, looking into those liquid brown eyes, her tumbling hair, her swollen mouth. “Are you close?”

She shook her hair. “Not yet.”

He curved his fingers over her bare ass, letting them rest in the cleft. She started, then rolled into him, her strokes sure and deep, and Jesus, he was having trouble holding on.

“I’m going to come, baby. Please come with me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

But she was wetter, her hips rolling, seeking, her breath coming faster. He closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to think about anything but how good she felt, and he pushed aside her skirt, pushed his fingers between their bodies, against her clit. He stroked twice before his own climax overtook him and he pushed up into her, wanting to be deeper, closer as his cock pulsed into her.

And then she cried out and her pussy clamped around him, her clit quivered against his hand, signaling her second orgasm.

For a long time, they sat, her head on his shoulder, her arms looped around his neck, her breathing ragged. He rested one hand on her bare thigh beneath her skirt, the other at the small of her back.

“I want you in my bed,” he managed.

She laughed softly, not lifting her head. “Already?”

“Want to hold you. Sleep with you.” He brushed his lips over her temple. “Come to bed with me, Teresa.”

She nodded against his shoulder and slid free.

“I can’t sleep in this.”

“Wear one of my shirts.” The idea of her in his shirt made him smile, would have made him hard if he hadn’t just come inside her. He cupped her breast and rubbed his thumb over her nipple, looking at her flushed face.

She smiled and stood, her legs clearly shaky. Her rumpled skirt tumbled around her and she lifted a hand to her  tangled hair. He stood quickly, curving his hands around her hips and pulling her against him for a soft kiss before nudging her down the hall to his bed.

Teresa’s emotions jumbled when her car turned into the parking lot at her school, West grinning behind the wheel. Damn, he looked good in the low-slung car. And the car itself sounded better than it ever had.

But that meant no more rides from West, no more waking in his arms, him watching her get dressed. Warmth rolled through her as she remembered this morning, how he’d reached for her, pulled her back into bed.

She’d been late for work for the first time in her life.

She forced a smile when he parked and got out. “Want to drive it home?”

Nerves skittered in her stomach. She didn’t like driving with men in the car, but he already rounded the car to get in the passenger side. The car idled more smoothly than it had since she’d owned it, and she eased it into gear after he buckled his seatbelt.

“Was it a lot of work to get the new part in?”

“Not too bad.”

She glanced at his hands before she pulled onto the street, saw the cuts that hadn’t been there this morning. “You’re lying.”

He chuckled and shifted, as if he was driven around all the time. “Okay, it was kind of a bitch. But it’s good. I did a tune-up while I was in there, changed some belts. It should hold you for a while.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you do that for me?”

He frowned. “Because I like you. And I know how to do shit like that, and you needed it done.”

“You barely know me.”

“That sounds pretty funny, considering I’ve made you come, how many times?”

She blushed, hearing those words. “It’s not the same.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “But I figure it’s a start.”

A start of what?
she wanted to ask. But she didn’t.

*****

Teresa’s stomach didn’t hurt as much on Saturday when she pulled up in front of Layla’s house. She felt more relaxed, and wasn’t sure if it was because she was able to drive herself, or the fact that she’d spent the night in West’s arms, again, and would be seeing him at the rodeo tonight. She was strangely excited about that, though she’d never had the desire to go to a rodeo before.

She had to watch herself. She was excited about too much when it came to West, and he would be out of her life soon. Another week, at the most.

She got out of her car with a little more confidence. She greeted her ex-mother-in-law with a smile, who regarded her bright greeting suspiciously.

“It’s a beautiful day. Do you think we could go to the park?” Teresa asked.

Layla frowned. “It would be crowded on a day like today.”

Teresa fought back resentment, determined to make this a pleasant day. “It won’t matter. We don’t have to stay long. Let’s ask Emily.”

Before Layla could say anything, Teresa slipped past her into the house. Emily was on the couch, again, slumped and watching television, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of her. Had she just eaten breakfast? The child she knew would bound out of bed at   the crack of dawn, and if Miguel was gone, she’d snuggle with Teresa for a bit, then they’d get up. Teresa would make breakfast—something she didn’t get to do on mornings she worked—and Emily would watch cartoons in her pajamas. After breakfast, they’d clean house, then have a fun day, always more fun when Miguel wasn’t around.

Seeing her girl lethargic on the couch, barely acknowledging her, made Teresa more determined to get her out of the house, even for a few hours.

She sat on the end of the couch between Emily and the television. “Let’s go to the park.”

“My show’s on,” Emily said, sounding more like a petulant teenager than her sweet second grader.

Teresa glanced over her shoulder and saw the show was on a cable channel that replayed episodes ad nauseum. “It will be on again. We don’t have many days like this. Soon it will be too hot. It’s perfect weather today.”

“I want to see it now.”

Teresa wouldn’t let herself get discouraged. She took the remote from the table beside the cereal and clicked the TV off. She patted Emily’s calf. “Get dressed. Let’s go.”

“She said she didn’t—” Layla began, but Teresa stood with more courage than she felt.

“We’re going. We could all use the fresh air.”

Emily looked past Teresa to Layla, which broke Teresa’s heart. But to her surprise, Layla sighed.

“We’ll go to the park.”

Emily groaned and climbed off the couch.

“Thank you,” Teresa said softly when Emily left the room.

Layla huffed and followed Emily.

Teresa’s stomach fluttered with nerves as she drove Layla and Emily to the park. At least she was driving her own car, though everything else felt beyond her control.