Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (52 page)

“I love you,” she whispered.

He heard her over the shaking of the bed, the protest of the mattress, and the thundering of his heart. She whispered it again, the last of her tension fading from her muscles, leaving her wide open to his thrusts, to him. He came in a rush, his seed boiling up from his balls, bursting into her tight channel and filling her to overflowing. His seed mingling with her juices to coat his balls and her pussy until there was nothing left in him. Just an aching emptiness. He sucked in a deep breath. The scent of roses, sex, and satisfied woman filled his lungs, spreading through his being, drifting into the void.

And then as her ass spasmed one last time around his cock, she whispered it again, those three little words that filled him with peace.

“I love you.”

Chapter Twenty

By the time Jenna rode up to the front of Mara’s home, she was bathed in sweat. Not just because Clint was going to be furious that she’d ridden out alone. Not because she was so new to horseback riding that every time the placid roan Clint had given her slipped, she went into a panic. No. She was in a lather because of what she was going to do. What she needed to do to protect her home. Her children. She shifted in the saddle, wincing as her posterior protested.

The last week had been difficult. Clint had been insatiable in his demands. He’d taken her over and over, his big body driving hers to climax like a man possessed, needing her surrender, forcing her to give him the words he wanted. Afterwards, he held her as if he wanted to pull her into his body, easing her through her tears, kissing her gently, tenderly, but he never said the words back. Never let her in.

So she’d pulled back, not giving him the words he wanted. Trying to be more like him. But it never worked. Clint took charge at night, taking her however he needed to break down the walls she built, not resting until he had what he wanted. Her total surrender.

She shifted again as her pussy pulsed with remembered pleasure. Last night, she’d held out longer than usual. He’d arched above her, muscles glistening with sweat, eyes burning with passion, face tight with resolution as she bit her lip against the declaration wanting to spill forth—and then he’d flipped her over. He hadn’t taken her ass since that that first time, waiting for her to recover. But last night he’d taken her over and over, not content with hearing the words “I love you” once. She’d lost track of how many times she’d screamed her love as he took her, staking his claim, as if he wanted to imprint himself into her very soul.

This morning he’d woken her with a soft apology as he’d eased his big cock into her sore rectum, kissing her gently, fucking her gently, relentlessly until she’d surrendered, holding his hand against her cheek and giving him the words he needed.

He’d moaned and then had come immediately, the tension seeping from his hard muscles as she convulsed around him. He’d held her for a long time afterward, rubbing her back, kissing her cheek, calming her as she cried. But he still hadn’t said what she needed to hear.

And it wasn’t hard to figure out why.

She pulled the roan to a halt at the hitching post in front of Mara’s big house. As usual, just looking at the place made her feel inferior, but that was just another thing she was going to have to get over. She was a McKinnely now, and McKinnelys bowed to no one.

She squared her shoulders. If she wanted Clint to love her, she was going to have to learn to be a woman he could rely on. A woman he could see as being strong enough to trust with his heart. Which was going to take a lot of toughening up. She looked up as a big, tall man came out of the barn, then raised her hand and waved.

Cougar broke into a run. His long hair flying out behind him as his legs ate up the distance between them.

She tried to swing her leg over the horse’s back, but her tortured muscles screamed a protest. The roan shifted and she quickly settled back in the saddle.

“What’s wrong,” Cougar barked as he got close enough to be heard.

She smoothed her hair and straightened her skirt. “I came for a visit.”

He stopped a foot away. His hair settled around his shoulders in a wild tangle that was as primitive as the man himself. He looked down the road, then at her dress, and frowned.

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Dressed like that?”

It wasn’t her best dress but it wasn’t her worst either.

“I didn’t want to get my good clothes horsy smelling.”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I repeat, what’s wrong?”

“I just want to see Mara.”

“So you cut across the territory on a horse you barely know how to ride, unescorted, without Clint’s permission?”

“How do you know I don’t have Clint’s permission?”

His right brow went up in an expression reminiscent of Clint.

“Because you’re here alone on a horse you barely know how to ride, in clothes more fit for cleaning than visiting, and if I’m not mistaken, without all the proper undergarments.”

How could he tell
that
?

“So,” Cougar continued with intimidating calm, “don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. Tell me the truth.”

“I need to talk to you,” she managed through her embarrassment.

“Why?” His eyes were flat and cold.

“I need your help.”

His expression didn’t soften. “If you’re looking for help leaving him, you came to the wrong place.”

She blinked. “Leave who?”

“Clint.”

“I don’t want to leave him.”

The front door opened and Mara came flying out.

“Jenna! I wasn’t expecting you.” She looked around. “Where are Clint and the children?”

“They’re home.”

The same guarded expression came over Mara’s face that had been on Cougar’s.

“Uh-oh.”

“Why does everyone assume that there’s some sort of problem just because I came out for a visit?”

“Because Clint wouldn’t leave you unprotected,” Mara answered as Cougar tucked her into his side.

“For heaven’s sake, I’m not a child.”

“Of course not,” Mara said, rubbing her arms as Cougar stepped away. “And we’re thrilled you came to visit, aren’t we Cougar?”

“Thrilled,” Cougar echoed, coming toward her, his eyes narrowed in speculation. He patted the horse’s neck as his gaze met hers, the eyes she’d thought cold a moment before now warm with concern. He really was a handsome man when he wasn’t looking so scary.

“Whatever it is, Jenna, we will help you.”

“I don’t know if you can.”

“Then maybe we should get you off this horse so we can talk.”

She bit her lip and confessed yet another humiliating moment.

“I’m stuck.”

“So I figured.”

As if she were a feather, he lifted her off the horse, steadying her as her leg cramped and gave out.

He frowned down at her. “You shouldn’t be riding.”

She shifted her weight to her good leg and held to her purpose.

“I had to.”

His thumb brushed her cheek. “If you tell Clint what’s bothering you, he’ll fix it.”

“He can’t.”

“But you think I can?”

She was counting on it. “Yes.”

“What do you need?”

“I need for you to teach me to fight.”

* * * * *

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen quite that expression on Cougar’s face before,” Mara commented as she poured the tea.

Jenna rubbed her thigh where it rested up on the hassock, easing the cramping muscles. “He did seem surprised.”

Mara laughed, her elfin face lighting from within.

“You flat out shocked him to the soles of his moccasins.”

“I need to know how to defend myself.”

“Why?”

“I need to be strong.”

Mara dropped a sugar chunk into her cup.

“Why?”

She couldn’t just blurt out “so that Clint would love her”.

“I just do.”

“Are you in danger, Jenna?” Mara asked, growing serious.

“No.”

“Did you think Clint wasn’t a sparring partner?” Cougar asked from the kitchen door, a hot brick wrapped in a towel in his hand.

She took a sip of her tea. “I just want him to respect me.”

“And you think fighting will make that happen?” he asked, handing her the brick. She laid it on her thigh, her breath hissing out as the warmth seeped into the twisted muscles.

Cougar squatted beside her, watching her face as the heat seeped in.

She shook her head. “Clint respects strength.”

Cougar sighed. “He respects his wife.”

No, he didn’t. But he would.

“He’ll respect me more if he always doesn’t have to worry about me.”

Cougar shook his head. “Learning to fight won’t change how he feels about you.”

“I disagree.”

It had to. She couldn’t live the rest of her life loving Clint when he didn’t love her.

“It won’t hurt for her to learn to fight,” Mara pointed out. “You did say it was important for every woman to know how to defend herself.”

Cougar stood. “I did.”

“So you’ll teach her?” Mara asked, her hand on his thigh looked small against the long expanse of muscle.

“Without telling Clint?” Jenna added, knowing Clint would forbid it.

Cougar’s big hand engulfed Mara’s where it rested on his thigh. He stared at Jenna, his golden gaze so intent that she immediately dropped her eyes, remembered her vow, and brought her gaze back up to meet his. She might have imagined the slight nod of Cougar’s head, but she was so desperate, she interpreted it as approval to shore up her resolve. He made her hold his gaze for two heartbeats before a slight smile turned up the corner of his mouth.

“As I owe the man one, I’ll teach you.”

Jenna closed her eyes as relief swept through her. When she opened them, all she could see was the back of Cougar’s head and the long fall of his hair as he leaned over Mara.

She’d never seen a man kiss a woman. Watching Cougar kiss Mara was a revelation. For a man who made her think in terms of danger and unpredictability, he was incredibly careful with his wife. From where she sat, Jenna could see the play of muscles under his shirt as he shifted his angle. He was a powerful man. As powerful as Clint, but whereas she was a big woman with meat on her bones to take a blow, Mara was tiny and slender. Cougar could break her neck with a slap.

Jenna thought she heard Cougar groan and then Mara’s hands crept over his shoulders, the tips sighing into his shoulder as if she would pull him to her. Cougar seemed to lean into her grasp. By shifting just the slightest to the right, she could see his hand cupping Mara’s head. She expected to see his fingers fisted in her hair, holding her for his pleasure, but the hand that engulfed her head was open, supporting, not demanding. The dark thumb resting against the white of her cheek caressed the skin with incredible gentleness.