Ropin' Trouble (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 2) (9 page)

“You’re right, sweetheart.”

“Now, now, let’s not spoil our lunch with talk about the past. Motley would be very disappointed if we didn’t finish his delicious hummus.” Ben didn’t force her to talk about it. Knowing how easy he was to communicate with, who knows what she would have told him and then he’d know way too much.

They finished eating in a comfortable silence, and packed up.  Cara was helping fold the blanket when something moved in her pants. She froze and dropped the blanket. “Ben, something’s in my pants.”

He dropped the basket to the ground. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, but…ouch! It stung me!” She froze. “Afraid if she moved an inch either direction whatever it was would sting her again. “I think it’s a bee.”

“What does the sting feel like?”

“Are you serious? A sting! Like someone shot a staple into my butt.” Tears came to her eyes.

“Drop your pants, Cara.” He was beside her in a flash.

The back of her thigh started to throb in pain but she continued to stare at him in confusion. “I’m not dropping my pants.” She was mortified.

“If it’s a wasp, it’ll sting you again,” he warned.

Fear washed over her, but not from the wasp. If she pulled down her pants he would see her panties, not the pretty, lace ones she wore once upon a time. Not the panties she knew men like Ben liked to see on women. Cara’s panties certainly wouldn’t be found in a sexy lingerie shop. These were the comfy panties—as she liked to call them—she started wearing when James continually told her how fat she was getting. They didn’t cover up enough for her liking.

Had she gone mad?

And why did she care one hoot what underwear she was wearing? If Ben didn’t like them, then so what!

She smiled. Wow…she was getting the aggressive thing down. Deirdre would be proud.

“Do you need some help?” he asked.

She smacked his hand away. “No. I’ll do it, but you have to turn your head.”

“Cara, we don’t have time for this. Is it not processing that you could be stung again? This is for emergency reasons only.” The sincerity in his expression made it easier to do what she knew must be done.

Unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, he was polite enough to keep his gaze on her face as she slowly slid the denim down her hips and thighs, slipping them to her knees. All of James’s cruel and degrading verbal assaults crawled through her mind as she stood there, partially naked. He had been the only man who’d seen her without clothes. And he’d never liked what he saw.

“Where did it sting you, sweetheart?” His gentle voice soothed her—a little.

“On my thigh, the back.”

“Turn and let me take a look.” His gaze slipped past her chest, her stomach and she crossed her arms over her chest, vulnerability easing through her.  “If it’s a bee sting you could still have the stinger in your skin, which could cause infection. We can’t let that happen. You’re in Nirvana and that bee just wanted a little taste of honey.”

How did he do that? How did he make everything seem okay? How did he make her concerns seem ridiculous? In actuality, her fears were silly. She was being silly. James was gone and she was moving on. The internal scars were fading.

Reluctantly, she turned and closed her eyes. His breath rushed from his lungs and she jerked. Then he was quiet for the longest time. Was he silently gawking at her large butt or her huge thighs? She’d never claimed to be a supermodel and never wanted to be. She read in a magazine that men liked juicy butts, but what exactly did ‘juicy’ mean? Seconds turned into a minute. She started to turn back but he stopped her with a hand on her waist.  “What is it, Ben?”

“It’s definitely a bee sting, darlin’.” His voice was smooth as silk.

“Then get it out fast. This is awkward standing here with my pants down around my ankles.”

“Well, sweetheart, there’s a problem.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “A problem?” Before he could stop her again, she swiveled, eyeing him in question.

“I don’t have tweezers to properly remove the stinger.”

“We don’t need tweezers. Use your nails.” Her body was on fire.

He rubbed his chin. “I don’t have nails and I have to be careful. I don’t want to break off the stinger and more venom get into your body. The more venom, the longer the suffering. But I do know a way. I’ve used the technique many times, just not in that area.” He shifted his worn boots.

“What are you talking about?” She just wanted to get the dang stinger out of her skin so she could get her pants back on and forget the humiliation.

“Can you trust me?”

He used the golden word. Trust was one word that was very close to evil in her vocabulary. He was asking something huge and he couldn’t even begin to understand. She inhaled deeply and exhaled through tight lips. He wasn’t James. He was a friend and had treated her with kindness and consideration. “We can go back to the treehouse. There must be a pair of tweezers there.”

“Can you sit? How will we get you back? I can carry you on my back.”

“No, He-Man.” She sighed. “I can’t let you do that, no matter how big your muscles are.” Her temples pounded.

“Then trust me, okay? I promise it’ll be over in seconds.”

He looked at her with such sincerity that she didn’t think it would be possible to do anything but what he asked. “Yes.”

“Lie stomach down on the blanket.” He spread it back out for her.

Every warning in her head blasted a refusal, but she ignored it as she sunk to her knees and lay down. She was fully aware of the fact that she was exposed in the daylight, every flaw open to his perusal. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t sit, at least while the stinger was in her skin, and she certainly couldn’t allow him to carry her all of the way, who knows how far, to the treehouse. Putting her jeans back on wasn’t an option right now. The pain was horrible.

His touch came lightly and she knew he was being careful more for her sanity and not the bee sting.

But what happened next was neither good for her stability or her libido because her wall burst into a million pieces around her. She felt his warm breath against her backside, callused fingers on her flesh.  She jerked a glance over her shoulder. “What are you doing?” Her voice squeaked.

“Relax.” Then his mouth was on her skin, his teeth smoothed across her heated thigh and she forgot about the pain, or the fact that his head was inches away from a part of her that was tingling. She concentrated on the spiraling feelings looping around her veins like ivy. She was spellbound and a moan escaped her lips.

And just as quickly…that part of him that had awakened a whole bag of needful things within her was gone from her body. “All done,” he said in a husky voice.

He moved and the only warmth left was that of the afternoon sun beating down on her goose bumped flesh. “How did you do that?” she mumbled as she rolled over.

He didn’t move, staying above her, watching her with dark eyes. “It’s a skill that comes with being outside a lot.”

“What other skills can you brag about?” Did that question really come out of her mouth? 

****

Ben was caught in a barbed wire of desire. If he pulled away, he’d regret it to the marrow of his bones. If he kissed her, something he’d wanted to do since before he even met her, he could be screwed, and not in a good way. Having her lips under his was too much of a temptation to deny. He lowered himself over her, within inches, supporting himself with his hands flat beside her. One corner of her mouth lifted and tugged at every cell within his body. He dipped his head and with a constraint he didn’t know he had, he softly moved his lips along hers, darting his tongue over the full, kissable pout and licking the strawberry and chocolate taste from them. Her mouth opened in invitation and he rewarded her by slipping his tongue deep inside. She moaned and the sound vibrated his lips and every other part of his body that was intensely demanding.

Her arms came up and around his neck as a sweet whimper sounded in her throat. His heart beat so fast he thought it’d break a rib. He moved his head at an angle so that he could suckle her tongue, licking and swirling until she arched her back, her breasts pressing his chest. He wanted to lick and suck every part of her, every sweet, delicious, sexy inch of her body—continue where he’d left off on her thigh.

She dragged him closer, threading her fingers into his hair. He pinned her slender body underneath his larger one, holding his weight off her and leaning on his elbows. Her legs came up and wrapped around his hips, the apex of her thighs rubbing the bulge behind his zipper. He knew he couldn’t go any further unless he knew this was what she wanted.

He lifted his head. She opened her eyes and their gazes connected. “Sweetheart, I think things are getting out of control. I think we should back off.”

“You really want to back off?” There was deep question in her eyes.

“For God’s sake, Cara. Can’t you tell I’m going crazy in need?”

“Then please, Ben. I’ve never known this. Please don’t let it stop, not yet.” Her sultry words broke every boundary he’d ever mastered.

He toed off each boot, tossing them to the side. Her fingers were already on his belt buckle, pulling and tugging at the metal like a desperate need was guiding her. “Let me help, darlin’.” In a matter of seconds he had the belt undone, his jeans discarded.  His erection popped through the opening of his boxers, searching for release—for home. Sliding the cotton off, his cock bounced across his stomach.

He needed to take things as slow as possible. He wanted to please her, make her feel good. Prove to her that she was a desirable woman who should be made love to often.

He edged his mouth to her jawline, kissing the delicate, smooth skin. He followed the heated path to her neck and licked, tasting her. Gliding his hand to her bare thigh, he caressed her, slowly moving his fingers higher to the elastic of her panties. He smoothed the tips of his fingers along the silken band and eased his hand around to her firm, luscious bottom, massaging the rounded curve.

“You’re so soft and smell so freakin’ good.” He planted butterfly kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids…until covering her lips again, tenderly. He wanted to cherish every second of her, to drink her in like a fine, aged wine. He knew she was timid, but he didn’t see that now. He wouldn’t push her faster than she was willing to go. He wanted her writhing under him, scraping his back with her nails and calling his name in fervid need.

Ben trembled in longing that he harnessed with only a sliver of control. Patience was important—he reminded himself of this over and over. His cock swelled to painful proportions and pressed against the apex of her thighs. How could something so forbidden feel so right? He was breaking the rules, knowing this was against his personal boundaries, but he couldn’t stop himself. Hell, he didn’t want to stop even if it meant rewriting some of his damned rules. Cara was an aphrodisiac he couldn’t get enough of.  He wanted to soak her up, touch every fine morsel. He was careless to the cost of allowing himself to taste the forbidden.

The kiss continued and he was enraged with a fire he’d never known, scorching his flesh. They were both deep into the moment, hot and desirable. She was giving him her all and he loved it, and he needed to touch more of her. She tugged his shirt open, snapping buttons. He could feel the dewy heat spreading from her inner thighs and his fingers found the moist mound. He rubbed his fingers over the slit through the cotton, finding her nub and flicking the pad of his finger over the tight flesh.

Her panties became an intrusion and he tugged at the material, hearing a seam rip, dragging them lower…and then he felt the change in her. She stiffened. He stopped and looked down at her. That look, the fearful one returned and kicked him in the gut. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I-I don’t know.” Her voice was close to a whimper.

“I would never hurt you.”

And then the dam broke. She pushed at his chest with her fists, pounding him, and he quickly pulled back. He leaned to the far edge of the blanket, watching the softness leave every delicate line of her face. He struggled to breathe as he regained his senses, taking in the sudden change from hot to cold.

“Did I do something?” His words sounded alien to his own ears. “Of course I did. I shouldn’t have—“

“No, no. It’s not you. It’s me.” There was a catch to her voice that made every hair on his body stand erect. Although she still wore her shirt, she wrapped her arms around her chest as if to hide her breasts from his view. Her lips were still pink from his kisses and her skin a shade darker than her usual pale color. 

What could he say? He didn’t know what she needed to hear. He always knew the right words, but not this time. Now he was on the end of uncertainty.

“I’m not good at this.” She motioned her hands through the air, encircling the blanket. “I’d only disappoint you.”

He bit his lower lip to keep from grinning at her absurdity. “Are you kidding?”

“I wouldn’t joke about this!” She stood up, grabbed her jeans and held them against her stomach.

“Forgive me, darlin’. I’m a little confused. Who the hell has made you think like this?”

Chapter Six