The Sex Solution (12 page)

He tasted his own essence on her lips and it sent a spurt of hunger through him. His tongue tangled with hers and he deepened the kiss, wanting to consume her the way she’d consumed him only a few moments ago. The kiss was hot and wet and mesmerizing. He couldn’t think. He could only feel. The softness of her lips. The tantalizing dance of her tongue, the softness of her knees against his hips as she straddled him and settled over his lap.

He cupped her bottom as his penis nudged her slick flesh. Electricity shot through him, along with a burst of reality. His heart pounded double time and he gripped her bottom to keep her from sliding down.

“My pocket,” he groaned against her lips, his chest heaving against hers.

“What?” Her eyelids fluttered open and he saw the confusion again. Once more he had the fleeting thought that she wasn’t nearly as experienced as she pretended to be. But then she reached down between them, gripped his penis and squeezed. His thoughts scattered as pleasure gripped his senses. He barely heard her soft “Oh” past the thunder of his heart.

She let go of him then and reached for his pocket. After a few frantic seconds, she pulled out the foil packet.

After ripping open the package, she pulled out the contents and reached between them. Her fingers brushed and stroked as she slid the condom down his throbbing length. She braced her hands against his chest and then drew him deep into her body with one swift, downward motion.

The pleasure was so intense that it sucked the air from his lungs. She gripped him hot and tight. His entire body went rigid and he clenched his teeth against the exquisite sensation.

“Don’t move.” His hold on her bottom tightened, his fingers pressing into her softness as he held her still. “Not yet.”

“I…” She licked her lips, her eyes bright with desire and a deep-seated longing that took his breath away. As if she actually felt more for him than lust.

Then she stared into his eyes and murmured, “I
have
to move.” And then she did, and the only thing obvious in her expression was pleasure. Pure, exquisite pleasure.

She rode him so well, her body clasping his as she moved up and down, side to side, urging him deeper with every movement. He braced his thighs, holding himself rigid as he massaged her soft, round ass and pressed hungry kisses to her lips and throat.

The sensation mounted until he feared he couldn’t take it anymore.

But he did.

He took every downward thrust, and he met her with an upward plunge. Harder, faster, until her forehead wrinkled and her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she arched her neck.

He caught her fierce cry with his mouth and gathered her close as she shook, her climax rolling over her, consuming her. Her body milked his hard length and the fierce spasms proved too much. He exploded, his arms locked around her as he held himself deep inside and her close to him, and rode the sweet tide of ecstasy.

It was several minutes later before Austin finally found his voice. “That was incredible,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against her soft hair.

“Mmm. I don’t think I ever want to move from here.”

The minute she said the words, his ears tuned to the steady
bam, bam, bam
coming from the front door.

“Are you expecting anyone tonight?”

She leaned back and reality seemed to register. She closed her eyes. “It’s Uncle Spur. I locked the door in case he came back early. I was hoping he would make an evening of it—there’re an awful lot of women to look over at senior’s night at the bowling alley—but something must have happened. At least he had the good sense to hold off until we finished.”

As Austin helped Maddie with her clothes, he recalled her proposition:
“Just once I want to know what it would feel like. You and me and sex. Some down and dirty, hot and heavy sex.”

Well, they’d had their
once,
and now it was over.

That’s what Austin kept telling himself as he pulled on his own clothes, then opened the door to a cranky Uncle Spur. He didn’t bother with small talk. He couldn’t. He was still wound too tight, still overwhelmed by what had just happened. He said a quick good-night, walked out to his truck and headed home.

On the way, he rolled the windows down and drew a deep breath of fresh air to push the scent of her from his nostrils.

Now he could stop fantasizing about what she would taste like, smell like, look like, feel like lost in the throes of an orgasm. He knew, and so he could stop wondering and get back to the business of finding himself a forever kind of woman.

He’d stopped wondering, all right. But he couldn’t seem to stop
remembering.
The knowledge followed him home, crawled into bed with him and distracted him even more than his fantasies.

So much for working her out of his system.

“I
KNOW IT SOUNDS
a little unconventional since we’re looking for sexy, but trust me on this,” Duane told Madeline when he phoned her early the next morning. “It comes from a very reliable source.”

Madeline took a big gulp of her diet cola, prayed for the caffeine to send her a wake-up jolt after a restless night spent thinking about Austin and wanting more. More of his kisses and his touches. Once hadn’t been nearly enough.

The notion might have made her a little nervous except for the fact that this was Austin. The man she’d thought about, fantasized about, wanted since the moment she’d written that love letter to him so long ago.

Not that this had anything to do with love. She’d been infatuated then and she was infatuated now. And it only stood to reason that it would take more than one quick, albeit spectacular, encounter on the sofa to sate years of lust.

She would need at least one more round to do that.

“Are you there?” Duane asked, drawing her back to the matter at hand.

“I’m here.” She stared at the jar she’d pulled from the brown-paper-wrapped box Duane had overnighted her. “Reliable source, huh?”

“Luv4sale.com.”

“Move over
Science Digest.
”

“It’s one of the top ten Internet sites for sexual enhancement products. This is straight from their edible line of body paints. It jumped out at me because it isn’t one of the usual flavors—strawberry, cherry, chocolate, that sort of thing. It’s not one of their top sellers, and it’s no wonder. I tried it and it leaves an awful aftertaste. Probably the adhesive base they use to make it stick to the body. Anyhow, I know you—you’ll take the initial concept, work your magic and come up with something fabulous.”

“Maybe.”

“Hey, pumpkin pie gets my juices flowing.”

“You’re ruled by your stomach.”

“Isn’t every man?”

She remembered Austin’s sweet-potato comments. Candied sweet potatoes contained sugar and cinnamon and nutmeg, and therefore had a similar flavor to pumpkin pie. “It
is
different, and that’s what we need.”

“You said it. Now do it so we can land that promotion and move up in the world. No one should have to work in such poor conditions.”

“My lab is state-of-the-art. It has everything.”

“It doesn’t have a hot plate. This going back and forth to heat up my snacks and lunch is killing me.”

“It’s not supposed to have a hot plate. It’s a sterile laboratory.”

Unlike the kitchen, where she sat with its gingham curtains and view of the sunporch filled with plants and a drooling Twinkles. Forget sterile. And professional.

Even so, she sort of liked it.

The minute the notion struck, she forced it aside. It was a far cry from her lab, which she missed with a passion.

“Just go over the test results I sent you from yesterday and put them in quantitative order.”

“Yes, boss,” he muttered before he hung up the phone. “I live to serve.”

Madeline opened the jar, dipped her finger inside and sampled a taste. Ugh. The Internet site definitely needed a heads-up in product development.

But the concept
was
good. Different. Just what Madeline needed if she wanted to secure her position as chief of research and development and tempt Austin into another round of hot lovemaking tonight.

Not that she had to tempt him. After last night, she felt sure he would be more than ready to pick up where they’d left off. She shoved the jar back into the box and walked to the cupboard. A few minutes later, she’d made a list of ingredients to buy for tonight’s test. She made a quick trek up the stairs and looked in on Uncle Spur, who snored loudly, still sound asleep after his evening at the bowling alley. She changed clothes and dabbed on a little makeup.

Downstairs, she checked on Twinkles who sat, tongue lolling and tail wagging, in front of the portable TV set tuned to
Regis and Kelly.
She grabbed the watering pitcher and went down the row of plants. A few soil pellets and a George Strait CD later, she finished with her chores and returned to the kitchen for her list.

She swatted at the dog hair that sprinkled her blue T-shirt—daily vacuuming and she still couldn’t get it all—before grabbing her purse and heading off to the Piggly Wiggly.

She smiled as she slid behind the wheel. Last night Austin had finally seen for himself that she was no longer the shy, unattractive, geeky girl she’d been way back when. She was a sexy, attractive, take-charge woman.

And she still wanted him.

At least once more before she packed up her makeshift lab and headed back to the big city and the rest of her life, she would have him.

“J
UST CALM DOWN
, sweetheart,” Austin ground out as he gripped the two pieces of barbed wire and tried to work them apart and over the cow’s head.

The animal bellowed loud and deep, the sound making his already aching head hurt even more than the hot noonday sun was.

“Hollering isn’t going to do you a bit of good,” he muttered to the animal. “It’ll be over—” he pulled and tugged “—in just a few seconds.” More pulling and tugging and the animal finally scrambled free. One frantic hoof punched Austin in the stomach before he could lean out of the way. The air bolted from his lungs and pain ripped through him.

“Women,” a familiar voice drawled behind him. “Can’t live without them, but nobody in his right mind would ever want to live with them. That’s for damned sure.”

Pain gripped his body for a few breathless seconds before subsiding. He gasped for air and glanced up at the man who sat astride one of Austin’s favorite chestnut mares.

While Austin and his youngest brother Dallas both had the same dark hair as their mother, Houston was the spitting image of their father.

Bick Jericho had been tall, tanned and blond, with whiskey-colored eyes and a killer smile, before he’d gotten himself saddled with a wife and the first of three unwanted children.

But in between the fighting and the drinking, things hadn’t been so bad. There’d been those few precious sober moments when Bick Jericho would pick up his oldest son and plant him on his shoulders and walk around. Austin had felt so tall and proud and loved. Even if only for a few moments.

Houston’s birth had added more pressure. Bick, who’d never been one for responsibility, had felt even more trapped. The arguments had turned into a daily occurrence and the drinking spells had come more often, lasting longer each time.

Dallas had come along a short time later and strained not only the marriage, but their mother’s health. She’d been a diabetic and having a third child had been too much for her. Her kidneys had been pushed to the breaking point and, after seventeen months of dialysis, she’d died.

Austin had been only five at the time, but he could still remember the day they’d buried her. He’d stood there, flanked by his two younger brothers—Houston barely three and Dallas only a year and a half—and watched the casket disappear into the ground. He hadn’t cried. He’d been afraid of scaring his two younger brothers who were holding so tightly to his hands. But he’d wanted to.

He’d wanted to cry because, despite that she’d been a far from perfect mother, he’d still loved her. Just as he’d loved his father.

Frequent drinking spells turned into a way of life. His dad had gone straight home, climbed into a bottle and never climbed back out.

Austin hadn’t just lost his mother that awful day. He’d lost both parents—however imperfect—and the memory had haunted him every day thereafter.

For his brothers it had been different. They’d been so young that neither remembered very much about their life before. Or their mother. Or the semidecent man their father had been during his sober moments.

Austin eyed his younger brother. “It’s been four days since the happy occasion. I would have figured you long gone by now.”

“I don’t have to be in Vegas for another two weeks. I figured I would stick around for Miss Marshalyn’s party. No need in making another trip back. Thought I’d give you a hand out here in the meantime.” He grinned. “You sure as hell look like you could use it. Never thought I’d see the day when a woman brought my oldest brother to his knees.”

“You’re a real comedian.” Austin fingered his bruised middle and determined he’d suffered no broken ribs, then hauled himself to his feet.

“I’m even better with cows than I am at telling jokes, so this is definitely your lucky day.”

Austin yanked off his gloves and shoved them into his hip pocket. “If that were the case, you’d be offering to stick around permanently by taking the hundred acres next door.”

Houston shook his head. “I’ve got a bull with my name on it waiting at the PBR finals. Not to mention a dozen or so women ready to scream my name in the heat of the moment and walk away the morning after.”

“Sounds awful lonely to me.”

“I like things the way they are just fine. Besides, I’m not half as attached to the land as you are. Now if she’d offered the house, that would be another story.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s no never mind because she didn’t. So can you use the help or not?”