Ropin' Trouble (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 2) (14 page)

“I-I don’t shave…I mean, I keep it groomed—but, well, James always wanted me to keep it bald and after…”

“Shh, my love. We’ve pointed out that he was a jerk. Let’s not mention his name ever again.”

“Sounds good.”

His mouth watered. His tongue throbbed with need. He couldn’t wait to bury his tongue in her most precious spot. Before this was over, he’d know every inch of her, every taste, every whimpered toned when she reached orgasm. She’d never again think she was broken, or didn’t deserve to be pleasured.

He lowered his head and sucked opened her moist lips, finding the swollen gem peeking from the pink flesh. Somehow he knew she’d never been licked here in her most intimate parts. This both excited him and pushed him to take her to that place she’d never been.

She moaned in pleasure and he grinned, couldn’t help himself—a sound that pleasured his ears. Her hips rocked, she pushed her pussy in his face and rolled around his tongue. She was silently pleading that he take her to paradise.

He cushioned his fingers in her thighs, holding her from bucking off the bed.

“Ben...” His name floated from her.

“I know, sweetheart. I know all too well. Let your body relax and let the feeling rule.” He buried his finger into her moist cave, stroking the rippled flesh, thrumming her like a harp. Her movements became taut, her thighs quivered. He took on the same rhythm, following her tempo. He swirled the tip of his tongue around her pearl, blew on the bud. Her breathing changed to quick, forced pants and he knew she was close.

Then she stopped gyrating, she pushed higher, her spine stiffening and her sweet, salty cream covered his lips and tongue. Her nails nicked his scalp as she rode wave after wave of sweet release.

“Ben. Now!” she practically screamed.

“One second, sweetheart. We don’t want to forget the condom.”

“Hurry!” she demanded.

He pushed off the bed, rushed to find his discarded jeans, cursing himself that he wasn’t better prepared. He found his pants in the corner, grabbed his wallet and found three small packages. At least he had some, not that he’d needed it in a long time. He went back to the bed, laid two on the nightstand, while ripping open the foil with his teeth. He was a wreck as he grabbed the condom and it slipped out of his fingers. “Shit!”

“Let me help.” She had it in her hand, and before he realized what she was doing, she was rolling it on his erection.

He liked her aggression in bed.

Ben had been with a handful of women, but he’d never been this nervous. He was afraid he’d ruin the moment for Cara and he wanted to satisfy her more than anything. He’d spent every night since he saw her picture wanting this, dreaming of this, and he didn’t want to spoil it by being a two-pump-chump at the worst possible moment. Thankfully, he’d taken care of business himself that morning and hoped it was enough to carry him through. Otherwise, they had all night for him to make it up to her. He didn’t think he’d get enough of her once, twice, three times…anyway.

“I don’t know what you’re in deep thought about, but if you’re not sure how this works, I’m probably the worst one between the two of us to explain how we go about it.” She was breathless—and very serious.

“I know how it works.” His palms grew clammy and he bit back a chuckle.

“Then show me,” she urged.

“I might not last the whole rodeo, if you know what I mean.” Her eyes widened.  “I’m so turned on that the horse wants out of the gate—fast.” He wanted to slip into her, spear her body wide with his cock, but she wasn’t the type of woman he could fuck. “Hell, he’s threatening to burst before the race even starts.”

“Then make it up to me later. But for now,” she lifted her legs high and wrapped them around his waist, “let’s find out what we’ve been missing. I’m about ready to pop myself.”

There was no resistance left. He slid his head to her opening, and just as he figured, she was as tight as a new leather glove. He slowly slid inside of her, allowing her muscles to accommodate his size as he waited for any signs that she was in pain or sore. Quite the contrary. She lifted her hips and shimmied, in silent invitation to take all of her. Thrusting deeper, he buried himself to the hilt as all air left his lungs.

Her body clamped him as he moved in and out, sinking himself deeper and deeper, pulling out to his tip. He clenched his jaw hard and counted to ten—backward. Forward. He even sung a song inside his head.
You are my sunshine, my only—

Her fingers gripped his balls and he forgot where he was, who he was. He wouldn’t have been able to recite his address or his birthday. His body teetered on edge. He could control it…maybe. No. She was a vixen!

Their bodies were locked together. Her legs were still wrapped tight around him as she rolled his balls in her palm. “Do you like that?”

“Yessss!” The words hissed from his lips like a hot iron touching water.

Their gazes met and she looked directly into him—into his soul. Her muscles grasped him, squeezing and molding. A lasso grabbing him by the horns. All restraint broke free and he slipped deeper and deeper, and he was a goner. The release came hard and bright, lightning fast. It came from a part of him buried within, emptying and raging like a forest fire, yet flowing like molasses.

Minutes passed until he finally gained his lucidity and rolled to her side, dragging her along with him, keeping one arm around her slender waist. She nestled her head in the crook of his arm and together they lay there until their breathless pants became even.

“That. Was. Awesome.” Her voice seemed muffled, coming through a tunnel.

Ben couldn’t deny just how great it was. He still hadn’t gone flaccid and his mind hadn’t come down from the extraordinary. He didn’t even have an overwhelming desire to slip out of bed and break the cuddling session. Indeed, he didn’t want to move for fear she would. He could stay like this.

She played with the small patch of hair on his chest, twirling the crisp curls around her fingers and the gentle action soothed him. He felt good, lying here with her, glorifying in the post-sex high. She moved her leg over his thighs and he swore he could feel her heart beat against his ribcage. He turned his cheek and inhaled her scent. Sugary cotton-candy. He could never get enough.

Hell, he didn’t think he could get enough of anything about her.

That was a hard pill to swallow. He didn’t have an ordinary life. Working here at Nirvana eliminated a lot of opportunity of having normalcy in his life. He had nothing to offer a woman like Cara. Nothing she needed. A woman like her wanted a man with a 9 to 5. A nice house with a white, picket fence. A family. Probably even a dog named Rover.  He had a dog back home, Pete. He missed his Boxer. At times, he even missed his family. Cara would understand his pain, having a painful history of her own.

But this wasn’t the time to spill his hidden guilt about Laura.

There was something about a good orgasm that made people want to talk, and that’s why he never stayed and cuddled.

He stared up at the ceiling. The dim light created shapes on the white tiles. The shadows metamorphosed into a house, and then a diamond ring. He rubbed his eyes. His heart thumped hard against his ribcage.

So where was he headed?

They’d made love. Nope, not ‘love.’ They’d had sex. Both of them had a sexual build-up and needed release. They were connected, by sexual chemistry only. He couldn’t mentally travel down dead- end roads.

Cara was a lodger. He was a staff cowboy. Nothing more could happen between them but what they’d just shared. His life was here on a ranch that specialized in country living, in Wyoming. A whole world away from Texas, where she lived. They were miles and miles away from each other. They lived distant lives…on complete ends of the spectrum.

She’d said something about moving. He bit his bottom lip. But she would want to start afresh, not with a cowboy who feared emotion.

There was nothing wrong with indulging in the thought of having more with Cara. Fantasizing never hurt anyone as long as they kept a true sense of reality attached.

“Why are you here at Nirvana, Ben? I know it’s beautiful here. The horses, the land, but this place is away from the real world—exactly what visitors are wanting for a short period of time to recuperate.” She was looking at him through the thick fringe of her lashes. Her bottom lip was slightly puckered. He guessed this was where she wanted to get to know him. She probably wouldn’t like what she found.

“I’m a rancher.”

“You know what I’m asking.”

Yeah, he did. “Four years ago I packed a suitcase and headed out with no idea where I was going. I came across a buddy in a grimy diner off the highway where we’d both stopped to get out of a winter storm. We got to talking over a cup of coffee and he told me about a place hiring staff. A place called Nirvana. He told me all about it and I was hooked. We rode out here and the rest is history.”

Chapter Eight

Cara listened to the night sounds through the open window in Ben’s cabin. Crickets chirping. An owl hooting. Branches breaking along the edge of the woods. And nothing else, except Ben’s heartbeat in her ear. She liked the strong sound. It reminded her of the heavy beat of a warrior’s drum. She wanted to know more about him. After what they’d shared she needed to know more.

“Were you running from something?” She lifted herself up so she could get a better view of his profile. He was staring at the ceiling, his thumb rhythmically rubbing the back of her arm.

“Why would you ask that?” One corner of his mouth turned down.

She shrugged. “Not that I think you’re a criminal on the loose. But I imagine you’re here, all of the cowboys are here, for the same reason lodgers are.   It’s hidden away here, away from the demons that we eventually have to face.” She smoothed her fingers along the tight muscle of his bicep.

A good three seconds passed. She thought he wouldn’t answer. “I’m certainly not a criminal. The worst thing I’ve ever done was tip a cow and toilet paper a house when I was a kid. My father would have skinned my hide if I’d messed in anything worse than teen mischief. We went to church every Sunday and the Bible sat on our coffee table. I was taught right from wrong. It’s simple why I’m here. A man like me has a strong desire for peace and serenity. I get that at Nirvana.”

“And loneliness?”

“Alone and loneliness are two different things.”

“Yes, and are you lonely?”

His grin was forced. “Of course not. I have you here.”

“Again, you’re manipulating the question.”

Every muscle in his body tensed. “If I said yes, what would be my options?”

“I can’t answer that. Have you ever thought about your future? Having a family?”

Something flickered in his gaze but she couldn’t read it. “I want a drink of water. Better yet, a beer. How about you?”

“I’m good. So, you have a strong faith, huh?”

“Yup. ” He got up and she watched him cross the room and her mouth dropped. He had raised, red stripes down his back. Were those left from her nails? She covered her mouth with her trembling fingers. He’d definitely managed to find her wilder side.

He bent and reached into the small refrigerator, giving her a full on target for her roving eyes. Mm-mmm. His behind was firm and perfectly shaped. She imagined he was in the saddle a lot. He turned and her focus was on the very part of him that had brought her complete satisfaction moments ago. Oh wow…he twitched and was hard again!

Quickly, she jerked her gaze to his face, knowing she flushed from roots to toenails. She had an urgency to jump out of bed and onto him, but that just wasn’t her…or was it? In one night she’d had a man between her legs—the best, and the only orgasm she’d ever had. And she’d left sex marks on him, marking her territory.

He popped the lid to the long neck and the cap dropped to the floor, rolling under the bed. He took a long drink then set it on the nightstand before crawling back into bed.

“What was that like, growing up in a religious family?” She nestled back against him and he held her in a tight embrace.

“My dad was strict, but the best dad a boy could ask for. He taught me how to be a man.” His breath was warm against her cheek.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Here in Wyoming. A small town called Twin Oaks. We lived on a ranch that had been handed down three generations.” He played with a lock of her hair. “My dad handled many responsibilities.”

“Ahh, ranching is in your blood.”

“And how about you? Is vintage clothing in your blood?” He massaged her scalp.

“Mm.” She wrapped her brain around his question while melting under his touch. “My mom was a seamstress, but I wouldn’t say it is in my blood. I once had dreams of becoming a lawyer, but life has a way of throwing up road blocks.”

“Wow. A lawyer, huh? That’s a big dream, and I bet you would have been a great one. You do realize you’re young enough to pursue anything you want?”

She smiled. “I think that ship has passed.”

“Was your dad a lawyer?”

“He was a police officer. We also went to church every Sunday and life was good, happy. He died when I was ten. Life changed drastically after that.” His heart picked up speed and his hand stopped moving in her hair. She lifted her chin, looking up at him. His jaw was tight and his eyes were narrowed. “You okay?”