The Rancher's Untamed Heart (21 page)

BOOK: The Rancher's Untamed Heart
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On Sunday afternoon, I called up Sarah at her house.

 

"Are you ready to come meet the baby?" she asked immediately.

 

"Woah," I said. "Already? I thought you had another week left."

 

"Babies wait for no man," she said. "I'm at the hospital and it's boring as anything. Come. Bring food."

 

I laughed. That sounded like Sarah all right. At her request, I swung by the nearest fast food and grabbed her a burger and fries.

 

When I found my way up to the maternity ward, her room was empty of visitors.

 

"Hey, honey," I said, holding up the bag. "I brought food."

 

"Gimme," she said, and grinned at me. I'd never seen her with that little makeup on, just a hint of blush and lipstick. There were dark circles under her eyes and her face seemed lined and tired, but I'd never seen her look happier.

 

"It's a girl," she said. "Katie."

 

I passed over the paper bag and went around the bed to the little bassinet to the side.

 

"Oh," I told Sarah, "She's perfect."

 

She really was, with her tiny fingers peeking out of the blanket she was wrapped in, and a little pink hat on her head to fight the draft of a hospital.

 

"Oh, my God," Sarah said. "This is the best thing I've ever eaten."

 

She spoke around the burger in her mouth, cheerfully repulsive, and made short work of the rest, evaporating it in a few bites.

 

I laughed. "Glad to help. Why isn't your husband getting it?"

 

She grinned at me. "I told him that if he didn't go get some sleep and come back less anxious, I was gonna kill him. He's at home."

 

I smiled at her.

 

"Can I hold this little squirt?" I asked.

 

She nodded, and I picked up the baby, holding her close, looking at her sleepy eyelids flutter open and shut.

 

I had a brief flash of longing, to be holding a little baby with Clint's magnificent eyes, to be holding our child.

 

"She couldn't be more perfect," I told Sarah.

 

"Damn straight," she said, and we both laughed, and settled in to gossip about work.

 

Finally, I came to what was really on my mind.

 

"So, Sarah," I asked. "Did you do any weird inspections with Herman Banks a few months ago?"

 

She shrugged and winced.

 

"I don't know," she said. "I tagged along a few times. Why?"

 

"Well, he's asking me to sign off as the second inspector on the Yates place, he said that you were the second and you can't sign paperwork on maternity leave," I said.

 

She raised her eyebrows.

 

"That's news to me. He texted me yesterday to ask me to sign a few papers this week," she said. "I didn't do the Yates inspection. It's a big place, and I told him I didn't want to be out for a full day."

 

I frowned.

 

"Do you know who he took with him?" I asked. "I don't want to sign anything that I didn't really do."

 

"Well, he's the boss," she said. "It sucks, but he's the guy who signs the paychecks."

 

I shrugged. "I don't know, it just doesn't seem right," I said.

 

"No shit," she said. "Now come on, give me that baby."

 

I passed the little pink bundle over, with a stab of reluctance in my heart.

 

As I saw her husband, Neil, come in, and the light on his face when he looked at his wife and child, I missed Clint fiercely. I wanted that from him. I wanted to give him a little girl and to see that look of love and devotion on his face.

 

"Hey, Naomi," Neil said, cheerfully. "Did you see this little bit of perfection?"

 

I nodded and grinned at him.

 

"She's a miracle, all right," I told him, and he nodded enthusiastically.

 

I didn't want to interrupt their family time any longer, and I slipped out the door, waving a goodbye to Sarah.

 

 

 

 

 

Outside Sarah’s hospital room, I sighed and headed for the exit.

 

Once in the parking lot, I got into my car and sat there for a few minutes, leaning my forehead on the steering wheel.

 

I’d parked pretty close to the entrance, though, and people kept walking past me. Even with my eyes shut, I was self-conscious. I fumbled for my keys and started the engine, checking my mirrors absently as I pulled out onto the street to head for somewhere a little more private.

 

I found an empty parking lot and stopped my car under a tree in the corner. By the looks of the boarded-up windows, no one had been to this gas station in years, even to check for valuables.

 

I turned off the engine and put the keys on the passenger seat. My hand wavered over my cell phone for a minute, but in the end, I picked it up and clicked it awake, typing in Clint’s number.

 

“Hey,” he said, almost immediately. The phone hadn’t even gotten out a full ring.

 

“Hey,” I said. Our greetings were shallow, but they made me feel a little better. None of the earlier anger was in them. “You answered pretty quickly.”

 

“I’m sitting at the kitchen table with a drink,” he said.

 

I smiled. “Did you hope I’d call?”

 

“I did,” he said, calmly. I’d never been with a man before who was willing to admit to his feelings that baldly.

 

Maybe other men I’d been with had tried to control me too, but been more sneaky about it. At least with Clint, I knew exactly where I stood.

 

I shut my eyes, listening to our breathing for a minute.

 

“I stopped by the hospital to see Sarah and the baby,” I told him. I’d talked about Sarah before.

 

“Born already?” he asked.

 

“Do you want kids?” I blurted out.

 

Silence came down the line for a minute, and I dug the hole deeper. “I was holding Sarah’s little girl, and she was so perfect and tiny, and I was picturing what your baby would look like, and then Neil came in and I saw how proud he was of Sarah, of Cindy, of himself, and how happy they were, and I wanted it to be you. Not you in Sarah’s room, you in my room. With our baby. I wanted to have a baby with you.”

 

Clint’s deep voice cut through my rambles. “You’d be a beautiful little mother,” he said. “I’ve always figured I’d have a few kids, looked forward to it.”

 

“Oh, good,” I said. “So that wasn’t entirely crazy.”

 

“No,” he said with a chuckle, “It was still a little crazy, but I’m crazy about you. I miss you. Come over.”

 

I hesitated.

 

I’d had such a firm resolve, to stay away from him for a full weekend. It was already Sunday afternoon. I was so close.

 

“I’ll be there in an hour,” I said.

 

 

 

 

 

My drive passed uneventfully through the edge of the city and suburbs and then out to miles of empty land.

 

Clint lived half an hour from the nearest, well, anything. It was beautiful, but it was inconvenient as all get-out. A few hands were around, but it was mostly quiet. Weekends were a skeleton crew.

 

Briefly, I thought about Friday, and what could have happened to me on a ranch in the middle of nowhere with only a few strange men who disliked me.

 

I had to admit, I had been irritated by the intrusion at the time, but now I could see the reason for Clint’s fear and anger.

 

I love my job, but that ranch was strange and unfriendly.

 

I stepped out of my car and waved at one of the hands I recognized, who waved back. It was nice, coming onto a ranch and having everyone be friendly, like this one.

 

Deliberately, I shoved the Yates ranch out of my mind. I was here to see Clint and have a good time with him. Yates and Banks were just not going to take up any more of my time today.

 

I headed up to the back door and walked into the kitchen, knocking on the door before I opened it.

 

Clint pushed his chair back and stood up from the table, knocking his chair aside and tipping over an empty glass.

 

Paying that no mind, he closed the distance between us in three long strides and took me into his arms, holding me tightly. I could feel his nose buried in my hair and his fingers digging into my sides, but I didn’t protest. I clung back, just as tightly, smelling the rich manly scent of him and trying not to cry with relief as my cheek rubbed against his soft faded work shirt.

 

“Don’t leave for the weekend again,” he mumbled into my hair, “Not when I have to do without you all week.”

 

I nodded. I was so right to have come here. I belonged in his arms.

 

Never before had I felt so safe when I was being held by a man. Being in Clint’s arms was like coming home after a long day.

 

I don’t know how long we stood there, swaying together, not talking. He was warm and strong against me, and being in his arms was all that I wanted.

 

He gripped my shoulders and pulled me away from him to stare deeply into my eyes.

 

“I missed you so fiercely,” he growled. “Are you mine, Naomi? I need you to be mine.”

 

I nodded.

 

“I’m yours, I’m definitely yours,” I gasped.

 

I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed him softly on his cheek, enjoying the way his five o’clock shadow prickled against my lips, making goosebumps rise on my arm.

 

Quickly, I followed that kiss with another soft one on his other cheek, and then, delicately, I pressed my lips against his and almost immediately pulled them away. I kept that up as he held me, small teasing kisses against his lips and face as he held still.

 

When I darted in and pressed a firm kiss against his lips, he pulled me close against him. My lips parted, his tongue slid between them and tangled with my own in an expression of feverish desire.

 

I loved the feeling of him touching me. I loved being held in his arms like that, being his.

 

He scooped me up, suddenly, and threw me over his shoulder as I squeaked. He crossed the living room in great strides, heading quickly to the hallway.

 

I held on tightly to his shirt and tried not to kick him as I giggled, upside down, staring down at his jeans-covered ass. It was a good sight. Muscular.

 

I heard a door open.

 

"Careful, now," Clint grunted as he lifted me off his shoulder and tossed me onto an enormous bed. I'd seen his bedroom briefly, but never so much as sat on the bed. Too much temptation for us both.

 

Apparently that was not Clint's concern right now. Before I had even truly caught my breath, he was on me, lean hard body covering my own, and I once again allowed him to plunder my mouth with his searching tongue.

 

I gasped and writhed, arching myself against him. This is what I had wanted for so long.

 

He pulled away from my mouth and stared into my eyes.

 

"I need you," he said. "I need to touch you."

 

I nodded, and his hands were immediately pulling my shirt up. He eased his weight off me for a minute, let me sit up, and yanked the shirt off over my head.

 

Our laughter mingled and he reached around me, getting my little white bra off of me with careful determination.

 

As soon as my perky breasts were revealed to him, he leaned down and flicked my nipple with his tongue, carefully caressing the other breast with his hand.

 

"Oh, yes," I said, and leaned into his exploring mouth.

 

He stood up, then. My legs were dangling off the edge of the bed, and he unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them insistently down to reveal my underwear, and then my thighs. I helpfully kicked them off.

 

He knelt by the bed, pulling me to the edge, and began placing light, teasing kisses up one of my thighs, starting at the knee.

 

I giggled and kicked as it tickled, but soon my noises turned into little sighs of pleasure.

 

Looking down at him was hot. He was completely focused on my body, intent look on his face, his hands roaming gently over my thighs and belly, touching me as though I were made of glass, but something he he couldn't live without feeling.

 

He hesitated before pulling off my last remaining scrap of clothing, meeting and holding my eyes with his own. It wasn't until I nodded that he reached down and stripped me bare before him.

 

Clint's eyes continued to capture mine for a few scorching seconds before he dropped his gaze to my bare body spread before him.

 

Watching his eyes darken with lust was one of the hottest things I'd seen all year.

 

He placed his big hands on my thighs and spread them apart. I willingly opened for him, and he continued the trail of teasing kisses up my legs.

 

I thought that he was going to touch me then, to go to town on the hidden places between my legs, but he, apparently, had other plans. I could feel his breath warm and maddening on my flesh, but he seemed content to reach up and tease my nipples again.

 

I squirmed in pleasure and impatience as he rolled my nipples between his fingers, occasionally tugging one or the other.

 

"Do you like that?" he asked.

 

"How could I not?" I gasped.

 

He grinned up at me and suddenly thrust his tongue between my folds and licked up from my hole to my clit.

 

I just about levitated off the bed. It felt wonderful, but it was shocking. Totally unexpected. How could I even react to something like that? I thought he was going to touch me for a minute and then claim me, I was prepared for his heavy body on mine and his shaft breaching my entrance, not for a sudden onslaught of pleasure directly to my clit.

 

It was a little like getting shocked with a jolt of electricity - but in a good way.

 

Before I could recover, he did it again, and again, long licks. Only his hands holding down my hips kept me on the bed.

 

I didn't realize that I was making little gasping, mewling noises until I heard myself utter a particularly loud gasp as I bucked up towards his mouth.

 

"Easy, now," he said, pulling briefly away from his current project of driving me out of my mind with lust.

 

I said nothing, only groaned and tried to hold my body still. I couldn't help the trembling in my arms and legs, though. I had wanted Clint's touch for so long, been aching for his body against mine, that now that I had him in the flesh, I didn't know if I could cope with it.

 

One of his hands slid off of my hip. The other pressed me more firmly down into the mattress, pinning me at his mercy. I shut my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of his other hand, sliding down around my thigh between my legs.

 

Clint’s clever tongue kept teasing slow little circles around my clit as his fingers found their way, finally, to my entrance.

 

“This all right?” he asked me, with one broad finger pressed gently against my entrance, not yet sliding inside, merely hovering, waiting, showing me what he could do.

 

In answer, I bucked my hips up towards him. He laughed and pulled back, not letting me succeed at getting him inside me.

 

He chuckled, and I felt the warm exhale of breath against the most sensitive parts of my body. Was he going to drive me mad? I may have been halfway there already.

 

Finally, Clint's finger slid up from my entrance to the little nub of pleasure he'd been teasing with his tongue. It was easy going, I was soaking wet and ready for him.

 

Slowly, achingly slowly, it slid back down and made a tiny circle around my entrance before breaching me.

 

He returned his tongue to my clit as he slipped a single finger inside me, making me roll my eyes and rock my hips with impatience.

 

This was what I had been craving since the day I met Clint. My body was made as the other half to his, and it cried out to be joined again. I needed to become one with him, with this beautiful man who was strong and gentle and cared for me.

 

I appreciated his concern, but one finger, two fingers, it wasn't enough.

 

"Clint," I moaned, "I need you inside me. Stop teasing and take me."

 

He looked at me, eyes intent on my face.

 

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to hurt you, and I'm not sure I can hold myself back."

 

I grinned at him.

 

Without a word in answer, I pulled back and moved higher on the bed. I spread my legs and looked at Clint's face. I knew he wanted me and I wanted him. It was time to stop denying ourselves.

 

"I need to feel you inside me."

 

In a moment he was on me, shedding his clothing and covering my body with his own suddenly-naked form.

 

I only got a glimpse of him completely naked for me, but it was an amazing glimpse. Clint’s body was muscular and lean, all hard planes, but he didn’t have the too-shiny gym body that never did anything much for me. No, this was the body of a man who worked hard for a living, and I was going to enjoy it to the hilt.

 

The moment of union was everything that I had been hoping it would be.

 

He slid inside me until he was buried to the hilt, until I was aching with fullness.

 

We moved together. I could feel his urgency, his need, as he hid his face in my shoulder and gasped against my skin. I was lost in my own pleasure, moaning and writhing against him.

 

I soared towards my own completion as the waves of pleasure radiated from my core.

 

As I got closer and closer to satisfaction, Clint's rhythm within me changed. He moved less predictably, more quickly, as his need drove him towards his own climax.

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