One Hot Cowboy (14 page)

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Authors: Anne Marsh

Tags: #romance, #Fiction, #General, #Contemporary

BOOK: One Hot Cowboy
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Cabe.” Her gaze dipped slowly, and it felt

like she was touching him, those gray eyes

moving over his chest and down. “I wanted

those four walls, those memories. So I’m

not getting what I want. What I want to

know is, what do you want? If we’re being

honest with one another now?”

“Right now?” he asked in complete

surprise. “You. You made me wait a long

time for you, Rose.” Getting a hand on his

chest, she gave him a little push. She was

touching him again, and he had it bad,

because just that little brush of her fingers

against the cotton of his T-shirt had his

dick stirring in his jeans. He’d followed

her to talk, he reminded himself. Nothing

more.

“No,” she protested. “I’ve been back in

Lonesome for less than a month, Cabe. I

haven’t made you wait at all.”

“I’ve been waiting ten years for you,

Rose,” he growled. “Halfway through high

school, I looked at you and I should have

been shot for the thoughts I had. You were

too young. I was too old. I wasn’t ever

leaving this ranch and you’d made it plenty

clear you wanted your chance to get out

there in the world and explore.”

“But—”

“No buts about it, Rose. I’ve been

waiting a damned long time.”

“I tried,” she interrupted. “Right before I

left for college. I was waiting for you, too,

and I tried. You pushed me away. I thought

I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t who you

needed or wanted, so I went.”

“Christ,” he dragged a thumb over her

lower lip. “You were years younger than

me. You were still in high school and I

was up to my ears in the ranch.” A slow

smile tugged at his mouth. “But I was

tempted, Rose. Far too tempted.”

He stepped back regretfully. He wanted

to wrap himself around her, kiss every inch

of her, because he missed that closeness.

Hell. She’d been gone less than half an

hour, and he missed
her
. There was a

message right there.

“Tell me something first, before we go

any further here,” she said quietly, standing

up and taking a step toward him.

He couldn’t help noticing the
first
. She

wasn’t done with him, and that made him

impossibly, fiercely glad.

“Ask,” he answered roughly. “You

know I’d never lie to you, darlin’. Sure”—

he held up a hand when she got her mouth

open to protest—“I’m guilty as hell of not

being as forthcoming as I should have

been. I shouldn’t have let you leave the

lawyer’s office without hearing the whole

of it. I did, and for that, I’m apologizing.”

She nodded, her hair sliding over her

shoulders. She hadn’t moved, though, so he

started wondering if he had to get on his

knees. Which would put him on a level

with her pretty little panties—and then he

wouldn’t be behaving himself anymore,

and he sure as hell wouldn’t be doing the

right thing.

“Tell me right now if last night was you

feeling guilty.”

“Hell, no,” he growled, and he tossed

his good intentions out the window.

Closing the small space between them, he

slid a hand up her neck to tangle in her

hair.

“We were together because you wanted

me,” she pressed. “And for no other

reason. Just me. You tell me that I’m

enough, that I’m good enough all by myself

here. If that’s not the truth, then you give

me the truth. Now.”

“Yeah.” His other hand stroked down

the straight curve of her spine, arching her

into him. Her hands were on his forearms,

hanging on but not pushing him away. “No

matter what happens between us now, you

think I’m ever forgetting last night? You let

me in, darlin’, all the way in. That’s

something a man doesn’t forget. That’s the

kind of memory I’m going to be

treasuring.”

“It was good,” she admitted wistfully.


We
were good,” he countered roughly.

“You were downright perfect. Perfect for

me.”

“Really? You sure about the perfect?”

She peeked up at him, and there was that

look he loved so much. Pure sin and a little

bit of mischief. Christ. When had she

stolen his heart away from him? Because,

looking at her, he knew, clear as day, that

she had and that he wasn’t ever going to be

the same again. “That mean you want to

kiss me again?”

“Always,” he promised, meaning the

words more than she knew. Somehow,

somewhere, he’d gotten it bad. He’d fallen

for his Rose hard and completely.

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Sit down for me,

Cabe?”

Before he could straighten out his

emotions or his words, she’d gotten her

hands wrapped in his shirt, turning him like

he was a reluctant calf in the chute. He

went willingly, his erection already

straining at his jeans. Hell, if she would

just stay here in Lonesome, he’d still be

jonesing for her in fifty years.

He loved Rose Jordan.

She pushed gently, and he sank down

obligingly on the picnic table where he’d

found her.

They were outside. On a picnic table.

Hell if he knew how he’d wound up in this

position, but there he was, seated on the

table’s top, while she got on his lap, facing

away from him. He regretted that little

distance, even while he enjoyed the sexy

position, his hands cupping her hips to

steady her.

“You still with me, Cabe?” she asked,

and he slid her hair away from her nape,

exposing the pale curve of her neck. The

white marks from bikini straps had him

fantasizing about stripping her naked.

She straddled him, her legs on either

side of his. Those long bare legs in those

too-short denim cut-offs were killing him,

and then her hands came down on his

thighs. He could feel the heat of her

through his jeans. Hell, he was about to

come right out of those jeans.

“You’re playing with fire, darlin’.”

“And you don’t play at all.” She rocked

forward. The pressure on his cock was a

fiery burst of sensation. Then she was

moving rhythmically, up and down,

forward and back, and he was lost.

He got the button to her shorts open, his

fingers exploring the edges of her silky

little panties. Just barely touching her in a

liquid tease as she moved.

He had to be inside, needed to be there

with her. Scooping her up in his arms, he

got off the table and deposited her at the

edge. His hands stripped off her shorts and

panties. Parting her thighs, he stepped

between them, his hands curving around

her ass as his thumbs sank into sweet, wet

flesh.

Her hands were busy, too, opening his

jeans and finding his cock.

He watched her, watched her skin flush

and grow pinker, grow wet—for
him
. They

were in a secluded spot, but he knew

someone else could come along at any

moment. Could find them here like this.

And he didn’t give a damn. The only thing

that mattered was this woman in his arms.

She was so sensitive, so deliciously

responsive to his touch. He was used to

being right, to being sure of what the right

thing to do was. He ran tens of thousands

of acres, and hundreds of men depended on

him for their living. But the happiness, the

sheer joy on Rose’s face, was something

he hadn’t witnessed before. Finally, he’d

given her what she needed.

He was ready to take her, to feed the

sweet, hot hunger consuming them both, but

she reached for him, her fingers brushing

his dick.

“Let me,” she whispered, her eyes never

leaving his face. She got her hands

wrapped around him, and he bit back a

groan. She made him feel so good. “Let me

do this for you, Cabe.”

She didn’t give him a chance to protest,

just stroked gently, her eyes dropping to

his cock. He wanted to take care of her.

Didn’t know what she wanted from him

now. This was unfamiliar.

Could he let her take charge?

Did he want her to?

He wanted to hold on, to lay her back on

the table and finish what they’d started, but

she’d asked him for something, and he

realized he’d give her anything and

everything. Whatever Rose needed, he’d

provide. And, yet, what she was asking for

now was something he’d never considered

before. To let go. To let her.

His dick liked the idea. He was

painfully hard, his body all on board with

her wicked suggestion. And he was tired of

saying no to her.

Hell
. Those pretty hands of hers

wrapped around his dick were the sexiest

damn thing he’d ever seen. She just held

him, the sweet heat of her palms cupping

his flesh. Learning him.

“You do whatever you want, darlin’.”

The rough growl of his voice broke the

silence stretching out between them as he

turned and leaned back on his elbows,

giving her full access to his body. She

stepped closer into the vee of his spread

thighs, her fingers working his belt buckle

to get his jeans open farther.

Moments later she had him out of the

denim completely.

Her fingers danced up his thighs, and

heat exploded right through him. Christ,

she was really going to do this. Outside,

where anyone could see them. If she

wasn’t careful, he’d come before he ever

got inside her, because being the center of

Rose Jordan’s attention had him hard and

aching. And that was before her fingers

found his balls and cupped him, the pads of

her fingers teasing his aching flesh.

“Let’s see if you mean those words,

Cabe,” she breathed. “You want to be very

still for me right now.”

She leaned forward, and he fisted his

hands on his thighs because he couldn’t,

wouldn’t, move and spoil this moment.

Her mouth found him, and he bit back a

harsh groan.
Christ.
That mouth of hers

was wicked perfection. Hot and wet, she

slid herself over the head of him, exploring

the hard tip until he almost came on the

spot.

She was killing him.

The pleasure was tearing him apart.

She gave and gave, her mouth loving

him and her eyes watching him. Keeping

still now was impossible. His hips moved,

pressing his cock in and out of her soft

mouth.

When her hands moved, stroking his

balls, he gave in, sliding his fingers deep

into her hair. Not guiding, just hanging on.

The world around them narrowed to this

woman, to the erotic heat of her mouth,

followed by the cooler sensation of the air

hitting his dick as he slid free.

He lost himself in the slick, hot feelings.

It was just the two of them. Here. Now.

Giving and taking and giving some more.

Tension building, he thrust in and out.

Harder. Faster. Christ, she was open and

trusting, and she was going to make him

come.

“I’m going to come, Rose.” No way she

could miss the sensual warning in his

voice. He had to make sure this was what

she really wanted.

That wicked smile of hers lit up her face

as she looked up at him, lifting her head

from his throbbing dick even as she

wrapped her hands around him as if she

didn’t want to lose the contact.

“You taste real good, Cabe. Maybe I’m

not stopping.”

“You’re going to make me beg for it,

aren’t you?” he growled.

“Yeah.” She gave him that mischievous

smile of hers again, her thumb rubbing

over the sensitive tip of him. “I really think

I am, Cabe.”

To hell with it.
The least he owed her

were the words. “Let me come inside

you,” he growled.

“Whatever you want,” she echoed. The

erotic power of those words slammed into

him. The fantasies. What he could do to

her. With her.

He lay back, because no way he was

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