Slow Hand (14 page)

Sweet
Jesus.

The sight of his cock nestled inside her slick globes made him want to bend her over in the worst way, but he held himself back. Prolonging the mutual torment, he slid himself slowly up and down her cleft. She squirmed against him, urging in no uncertain terms.

“All in good time, darlin',” he growled in her ear, determined not to rush.

Still holding himself with one hand, he slid the other down her belly, over her baby-smooth mound and into her soap-slickened slit. Still stroking his cock up and down, Wade circled her clit with his thumb, coaxing her ever closer to climax. His hips rocked. His tempo increased. “Give it to me now, sweetheart,” he urged, low and husky. “Come for me.”

“I can't… I need… Please…” she begged between broken breaths.

“I live to please you, sweetheart.” Wade plied his mouth to her shoulder, biting down softly as he plunged two fingers into her, pumping in and out even as he worked her clit. Her head fell back against his chest with a cry as her body squeezed his fingers and then let loose long spastic shudders that left her limp and dazed in his arms.

Wade held her upright until she came back down and then turned around with another long lingering kiss. He then cut off the water, long past ready to move onto new games in new places—like the bed.

Grabbing the towels, they dried each other between more fevered kisses, and somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom. They toppled together onto the bed, where he rolled her on top and cupped her delectable ass.

Nikki was eager for more, rubbing her bare mons on the head of his prick, and purring like a cat about to get cream. He was primed, but when she raised her hips to impale herself on him, he gripped her hips and shook his head. “Not yet.”

“But—” Her brows furrowed.

“Turnabout is fair play.”

But he
wasn't
playing fair. He knew he was driving her insane with anticipation…with raw need. Hell, he was killing himself, too, but he had something to prove. This kind of chemistry didn't come along every day and he was gonna make damn sure she knew it.

He shifted his hands under her ass, urging her up his body, until she was straddling his face. Nikki gazed down at him wide-eyed, looking shy and uncertain. As his own gaze swept slowly, hungrily over her, he was overcome with the powerful urge to touch and taste every inch of her. Her heady, musky, mouthwatering scent wafted over him, engulfing and overpowering him with the urge to bury his face in her pretty little snatch.

He felt her resistance, but refused to be denied. He kissed her inner thigh and then the other, wet his lips, and then lowered her hips toward his questing mouth.

“No Wade,” she gasped and tried to buck away. “You can't. Not like
this
.”

“Wrong again. I intend to explore every luscious bit of you.”

“B-but it's too…too…intimate.”

His mouth twitched. “And what you did to me wasn't? Tit for tat, sweetheart.”

“That was different.”

“How? Because
you
were in control? Is that what this is really about? Are you afraid of giving it up?”

“No, that's not it at all.” Her gaze wavered, belying her denial.

“Let me do this, Nikki,” he coaxed. “I want to. I want to tongue you, taste you, drown myself in you. I want to look up at your face when you fall apart.”

“But—”

“Shh.” He placed his index finger over her mouth. “No more talk. Just shut your eyes now, empty your mind, let go and enjoy the ride.” He slid her hands over her hips to cup her ass. She tensed under his hands, but he pulled her closer. Close enough to touch, to taste. He began gently, with soft and teasing flicks of his tongue, increasing to long deep lashes when she started rhythmically rocking her hips. Letting her set the cadence, he probing deeper, licking, swirling, and sucking, growing drunk on her tangy essence. He stole another gaze upward. Her lids were squeezed tight, her cheeks flushed, her lips softly parted. Her breaths came shorter, sharper.

His hands wandered over her sweet ass as he made love to her with his mouth, stroking, caressing, and then probing her passage in time with her undulating hips. She gripped the sides of his head, her fingers threading through his hair, clutching and clutching spastically as she careened toward climax. With one hand on her hips, he honed in on her clitoris, single-mindedly circling and sucking. Faster, harder, his sex-slickened fingers plunged and thrust, in and out, until her body seized and convulsed in the first waves of her orgasm.

She cried out, throwing her head back on a scream as she came against his mouth. Releasing her while she still quivered with the aftershocks, Wade flipped her onto her back and then gloved himself. Coming over her with elbows braced on either side, he watched her lids flutter shut as he sank into her depths with his own shudder of raw, unadulterated pleasure.

He stilled, buried to the root, basking in the sensation of being sheathed in her hot little snatch. Stealing a breath, he withdrew and drove into her again, alternating with short stabs and long drags until she came back to life beneath him. Clutching his ass, she met him stroke for stroke, panting squeezing, spurring him on. Wade ground his teeth, thrusting deeper, harder, finally giving her everything he'd been holding back.

Unaware of anything but the glistening sheen of sweat that coated them, the slick friction, and sultry slap of flesh on flesh, Wade increased his tempo, pounding ruthlessly into her until her legs trembled and her passage milked him with rhythmic contractions of another climax. His chest tightened. His balls drew up. Several more hammering thrusts sent his orgasm crashing over him, in long, shuddering, mind-melting spasms. He withdrew, collapsing beside her and pulling her into his arms even as he fought for breath. Nikki gazed into his eyes with a soft laugh. He looked down at her with a feigned scowl. “You thought that was
funny
?”

“No.” She chuckled again. “Not funny. I think I'm delirious.”

“As in deliriously happy? As in ‘You're hands down the best I've ever had, Wade'?”

Her smile faded. “Without a doubt.”

Her words humbled him. He couldn't begin to fathom what Nikki did to him. Maybe it was that she was so damned responsive…so warm…so real after two women who'd only used him; Rachel to get to Dirk, and Allie, purely for recreation. Whatever it was, he couldn't get enough of this Nikki.

“You think so?” He nuzzled her. “Just give me a little time to recover, sweetheart, 'cause we're only getting started.” Everything about
this
, about them, together
,
felt so damn good.

And
that
thought jarred him to the core.

Chapter 13

Wade dozed with lips parted on a half smile—an expression of supreme contentment that made Nikki's heart surge. Wade was so considerate, so attentive. Everything about him drove her wild. He was everything she never even dared to hope for—intelligent, charming, and, sweet heaven, the man knew how to use his mouth and hands.

But while her body was sated, her mind was restless, overwhelming her with doubts and fears. It was so good with him, it nearly scared the hell out of her. How long would they continue burning hot and bright—in a frenzied fever of lust—before their shooting star crashed to earth? How soon before he lost interest and sought greener pastures? Men like him always did.

Why
are
you
torturing
yourself
like
this? It was beautiful. It was incredible, but you already know it can't go anywhere. Just let it be, Nikki.

She shifted, her thigh inadvertently brushing his shaft. It stirred instantly back to life. Wade opened his eyes on a lazy smile. “Time for round three already?”

Nikki's stomach answered with a loud and embarrassing growl.

He gave her a mock frown. “Hungry for something besides me then?”

“Well, yeah,” she confessed. “I ordered food hours ago. After all this exercise, I think I'm in real danger of perishing.”

He whipped the sheets away and sat her up. “Get dressed and I'll make it up to you.”

Nikki took another quick shower and dressed while Wade went to the Prospector to pay for the food she'd never picked up. He said he'd also make a detour to the drugstore to replace the condoms they'd used. She hadn't brought much for clothing, given the airline baggage restrictions and the brevity of her planned stay, but had at least packed a simple slim black dress for the funeral. She decided to wear it now along with a pair of black pumps and thigh highs. By the time Wade returned, she'd pinned her hair up and applied a bit of makeup.

His whistle of appreciation made her glad she'd expended the effort.

“Looks like we're headed out of Sheridan.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not about to take you to the Prospector or the Wagon Wheel looking like that.”

“Then, where are we going?” she asked.

“I've got a place in mind,” he replied cryptically.

They headed back toward Twin Bridges, driving the ten miles in companionable silence with Wade's left hand guiding the wheel of the Lexus and his right resting on her thigh. It was a casual gesture, but the implied possessiveness incited a fluttery feeling in Nikki's stomach.

The vibe between them had relaxed in the past few hours, morphing into something that felt comfortable but with an underlying excitement. There was an edge of sexual tension between them that hadn't even begun to abate. Even after several bouts of lovemaking, Nikki still thought she'd combust with a look or touch from him.

They pulled up in front of an old brick building on Main Street. “It's rustic, but The Old Hotel is one of the better places around here. The cuisine choices are slim pickin's once you leave greater Bozeman, but there are a few well-kept secrets around these parts.”

They entered a small but cozy dining room with knotty pine flooring, floral valances over mullioned windows, and fewer than a dozen oak tables, with mismatched chairs and calico cushions.

“It reminds me of MeeMaw's kitchen, and not much bigger either,” Nikki remarked in bemusement.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But I promise it's not your
MeeMaw's
home cookin'. The owners moved here from Hawaii and have brought quite an international flair to our little neck of the woods.”

“Hello, Wade!” the hostess greeted them. “Just the two of you?”

He nodded. “Paula, this is Nicole, up from Atlanta. I wanted to show her that Twin Bridges isn't completely without sophistication. I'm glad you had something available tonight without a reservation.”

“Things slow down this time of year,” Paula said and led them to a table in the corner. “A month ago would have been another story.”

Nikki waited for Wade to pull out her chair, meeting his grin with a smile. She sat and looked for a menu.

“They don't print one,” Wade explained, reading her mind. “The dishes change weekly based on availability of local meat and produce.”

“And the chef's whim,” Paula added. She handed Wade the beer and wine list. “Would you care for a cocktail or some wine? Or do you want to hear the specials first?”

“Beck's nonalcoholic for me. Wine, Nikki?” Wade asked. “They have a good selection here.”

“Nonalcoholic?” Nikki regarded him with a wrinkled brow.

“Yeah, I don't drink…anymore.”

“But the other night?” She recalled the frosty mugs of brew he'd drunk, and then realized she'd never seen the bottles. “Do you mean to say you were drinking unleaded while you were tanking me up?”

He flashed a guilty grin.

“How underhanded.” Her head reeled from Wade's interesting little revelation, but this wasn't the moment to press him. She opted to file it for later.

“You needed it. I didn't.” He shrugged. “As to wine, I'd recommend a red to accompany the cowboy sushi.”

“
Cowboy
sushi?
”

“It's the house specialty,” Paula said. “We had to get creative due to the lack of sushi-grade fish in Montana.”

“What do you use instead of fish?” Nikki asked.

“Barbecue beef.”

“Barbecue sushi? You're kidding, right?”

“Not at all.” Paula laughed. “My husband came up with the idea. We think of it as our unique fusion of East and West. It's a nigiri roll with rice, vegetables, and the barbecue beef that we serve with red chili aioli in place of wasabi and soy sauce.”

“All right,” Nikki said. “I'm game for this gastronomic adventure.”

Paula then rattled off the choice of appetizers: mushroom and brie tarts with balsamic syrup or blue-crab cakes with lemon parmesan aioli. She followed with the entrées, several featuring home-raised Montana beef and lamb. “We also serve American Kobe beef upon request.”

“American Kobe?” Nikki looked to Wade. “Isn't that what your brother is raising?”

“Yes,” Paula said. “The Flying K is our supplier.”

“And how is my brother's experiment working out?” Wade asked.

“Surprisingly, we're finding many people prefer the taste of it over domestic beef.”

“Really? That is surprising.”

“Wade, why don't you choose for both of us,” Nikki suggested.

“Sure thing.” He ordered several dishes to sample and a bottle of Australian Shiraz.

“Shiraz?” Nikki asked when Paula departed.

He leaned back in his chair with a slow sexy smile. “Of all the things every man should know—a woman's hot spots and a few good wines are foremost.”

Nikki chuckled. “I wouldn't dare dispute your expertise on the first, so I suppose I'll just have to trust you on the second.”

“You
should
trust me more often,” he said, suddenly serious.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means I want to know why you're so guarded.”

“Experience,” she replied, running a finger over the rim of her glass. “It's been a tough teacher. I haven't always exercised the best judgment where relationships with men are concerned.”

“You can't let one asshole ruin your life.”

“One? Try six.”

“Six, eh?”

“Yeah. Sad, isn't it?”

“Maybe seven's your lucky number.”

She licked her lips, studying his expression with uncertainty. “Are you suggesting
this
is the start of something?”

“The start?” He made a scoffing sound. “Sweetheart, I think we're well past the starting gate, don't you?”

“Most men don't like to think in those kinda terms.”

“I told you I'm not most men.” Wade caught her hand in his. “C'mon, Nikki, tell me about it. Tell me why you think you can't trust men. Why you don't want to trust me. I wanna understand.”

“I really don't want to. I don't see the point in digging up the past.”

“Sometimes it helps to unload the baggage.”

Nikki felt suddenly maudlin. “What does it matter? Why do you want to invest the effort when I'm leaving in a few days?”

His blue gaze caught and held hers. “You're here with me now, aren't you?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I'm here.”

She licked her dry lips and then took another sip of wine, wishing this time with him could go on forever, but knowing it couldn't.

“You're already thinking about leaving,” he accused. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“Because it's reality, Wade. I have a job to return to. A life.”

“Tell me about it,” he said.

“Tell you what?”

“Your life…
you
.”

“Me?” She gave a dry laugh. “There's not much to say.”

“Sure there is. And I'm interested in hearing it. You're different from other women. I wanna understand what makes you tick.”

“You and me both,” she snorted.

“I'm serious, sweetheart. I want to get to know you better.”

“I'd rather talk about you,” she replied.

He leaned back in his chair with an air of nonchalance. “What do you want to know? Ask away.”

“All right, Wade, I propose a question for a question. I'll answer yours if you answer mine.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Then I'll let you start. What do you want to know?”

“Anything.” He shrugged. “Everything.”

“Care to narrow it down a little?”

He pursed his mouth and then took a thoughtful sip of his beer. “Tell me why you despise cowboys.”

“I don't really,” Nikki finally confessed. “Truth is, men in hats and boots have always been a fatal attraction.”

His gaze narrowed. “Fatal? Care to elaborate?”

“Not particularly,” she said. “I already told you I've made a lot of stupid mistakes.”

“But you promised to answer my questions.”

She sucked in a big breath and blew it out on a resign sigh. “You really wanna hear this?”

“I do. I want to know what I'm dealing with.”

“All right. The first one was named Donnie. He was a hotshot bronc rider I met at the Toccoa Rodeo. I was seventeen and moonstruck. He got me drunk and took my virginity in the back of his horse trailer. Not five minutes later, he asked me to blow his best friend while he watched. I refused and he dumped me for a more willing buckle-bunny.”

“Ah,” he said. “I guess that explains your earlier concern about voyeurism.”

“Yeah. I'm a bit gun-shy about stuff like that.”

“And after Donnie?” he prompted her.

“Unfortunately, my cowboy addiction didn't end with him. After I left home, me and my girlfriends got into line dancing and started hitting the honky-tonks. We went to Wild Bill's in Duluth every Friday night and the Electric Cowboy on Saturdays. 'Course you can guess the kinda guys I met at those places—a long string of drinkers, liars, cheaters—all of them wearing tight Wranglers, boots, and hats. The last one was the worst though—the one I thought I was going to marry.”

“What happened?”

“I caught him in bed with my roommate. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't want to. I kicked them both out and they married six months later. The worst part of it wasn't the boyfriend but losing my best friend since grade school. We'd always dreamed of being each other's maids of honor one day. Needless to say, I didn't get an invitation to their wedding—not that I would have gone,” she added dryly. “That was the last cowboy I dated.”

“I'm sorry… Well, about the best friend, not about the fiancé,” he confessed.

“Me too. It's hard to get over a betrayal like that. So you see why I've sworn off cowboys?”

Wade shook his head with a snort. “Hate to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but a Stetson and a pair of Tony Lamas doesn't make a man a cowboy.”

“I think maybe I'm starting to know the difference,” she said.

“I'm glad to hear that.”

“My turn now,” she said.

Wade shrugged. “I'm an open book.”

“So you claim, but somehow I doubt that.”

“Try me, sweetheart.”

“All right. There are several things I'd like to know.”

“Oh yeah?” He poured her a second glass of wine.

“For starters, is there a particular reason why you don't drink?”

His hand froze. His expression hardened. “Yeah…there's a reason.”

“Does it have anything to do with your brother?” She wanted to know him so badly, to understand him, but judging by his hardening expression, this was dangerous territory.

His gaze narrowed. “Why would you ask that?”

Nikki tried to affect an offhand manner. “Just something your mother said.”

Wade stared up at the ceiling. “There's a helluva lot of history behind our antagonism.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not
particularly
,” he echoed her earlier reply.

“You've already broken the rules. I just answered half a dozen of your questions. You can't expect me to lay out my history for your inspection without reciprocation. Doesn't seem fair, Wade.”

He inhaled and then released it with an exasperated sound. “Look, it's nothing personal, Nikki. I'll talk about anything else, but I'd rather forget that entire chapter of my life.”

“And you think I enjoyed dredging up mine?” She looked away, picked up her glass, and drained it.

They finished the meal in a strained silence. The dinner was excellent, much better than Nikki had expected. The Kobe beef accompanied by the Shiraz had been a particular delight to her taste buds, but now she could hardly taste it. She stared at her plate, idly pushing the food around.