Christmas With the Mustang Man (16 page)

With a groan of anguish he turned to her. “Dallas. Dallas. I wish—I wish I could be that man.”

His hands cupped the sides of her face and she closed her eyes as emotions flooded through her. “You could be that man, Boone. If you wanted to be.”

He didn't say anything and then suddenly his mouth came down on hers in a hungry, savage kiss that shot her senses straight up to the sky.

Instantly her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips opened to his. She didn't know what it was that made her long for this man; she only knew that once she was in his arms, once his lips were moving over hers, she felt whole and right.

“Boone.” She whispered his name as their lips parted and he buried his face against the side of her neck. “I wish things could be different. That there were no miles, or past, or anything between us.”

He moved his lips back to her cheek, where his breath warmed her, tempted her with another kiss. “Let's not
think about that now. This day is just for being together—for pleasure. Not worries.”

He was right. She didn't want to think about tomorrow or what it might bring. She simply wanted to focus on the present and the joy of being with this man.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Let's just think about right now. And each other.”

“Dallas.”

Her name was all he said before his lips returned to hers. And Dallas gladly gave herself up to his kiss.

T
he ground was cold and the wind was even cooler, but Dallas felt nothing but heat as Boone eased her off the juniper trunk and onto the ground next to it.

With her arms still wrapped firmly around him, he ravaged her face and lips with kisses while his hands pushed off her cap and stabbed into the thick waves of her fiery hair.

She wanted him. Every part of him. Over and over the chant raced through her mind until she could think of nothing but being next to him, touching him, tasting him. And when she felt his hands dip beneath her sweater and slide wantonly up to her breasts, she moaned with sheer pleasure.

As his lips feasted upon hers, his thumb and forefingers kneaded her nipples and his hips aligned with hers. Beneath the fly of his jeans, she could feel the bulge of
his manhood straining against the denim and her feminine core ached to receive that part of him.

Desperately, she parted his coat and drove her hands beneath the tails of his shirt. His skin was hot and smooth, the muscles like iron bands wrapped tightly around his torso. Her fingers searched each slope and bump across his back, then rounded each side of his waist to meet at his navel.

Her hands were inching lower and lower to the button on the band of his jeans, when suddenly a horse's loud whinny echoed down the canyon and then another quickly returned the call.

Boone's head jerked up as he listened intently to the soft neighs sounding just below them. “Oh, hell! The mustangs are here,” he whispered.

A part of Dallas wanted to jerk him back down to her, to tell him to forget about the horses and make love to her. But the arrival of the wild mustangs could hardly be ignored by either of them and she realized their heated moment had ended, at least for now.

“Then we…uh, better go see,” she told him, careful to keep her voice low.

His lips slanted to a rueful grin. “Yeah, we'd better. That's what we came here for.”

Rising stealthily to his feet, he gave her a hand up, then motioned for her to remain in a crouched position as together they moved forward to the rim of the shelf.

As soon as they were near enough to peer straight down into the canyon, Dallas had to slap a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. The picture before her was too beautiful for words and she could only stare in wonder at the wild horses splashing through the creek and milling along the sloped banks. The group of animals consisted of all ages, colors and sizes, with most of them sporting
extremely long manes and shaggy forelocks, a condition that emphasized their wild image even more.

The touch of Boone's hand on hers suddenly caught her attention and she looked over to see him silently pointing down the draw to a bay mare with a weanling-aged colt at her side. The colt was trying his best to nurse, but the mother persistently nudged him along, toward the rest of the herd.

Smiling, Dallas mouthed, “He's hungry.”

“He's stubborn,” Boone replied.

“Typical man,” Dallas whispered.

Grinning at her remark, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “We men know what we want and when we want it.”

She shot him a saucy look, but he didn't make a move to kiss her. Instead, he eased into a sitting position on the ground, then drew her into the circle of his arms, so that her back was comfortably resting against his chest.

They sat that way for more than a half hour, silently watching the meandering horses and pointing occasionally to the frolicking babies. But eventually, a rangy red stallion moved the herd on down the canyon and out of sight.

When the last horse finally disappeared behind a bend in the creek, Boone pushed to his feet and helped Dallas to hers.

“We'd better be going,” he said. “We need to be out of the mountains by sundown.”

She agreed and they headed back over the same trail they'd taken earlier. On this side of the bluff the climb out was even steeper, and several times Boone reached to give her a helping hand as they maneuvered over slippery rocks and around tall, thick bushes of sage.

By the time they reached the truck, Dallas was feel
ing the exertion of the trek, but the joy of the afternoon made her forget her weary muscles. And the pleasure coursing through her veins was only partly due to the mustang sightings.

Something had happened between her and Boone while they'd been up there on the bluff. She'd shared things with him that she'd never shared with any man. And she was fairly certain his troubled past with Joan was not something he discussed with anyone, much less another woman. If the horses hadn't arrived at that moment, the two of them would have made love right there on the cold ground. The reality of that had been apparent to both of them. And now, though neither had spoken it in words, when they looked at each other, it was like they both understood and accepted the fact that they could no longer deny the desire that burned between them.

The ride back to the ranch was passed with general conversation about the horses and other shared interests. Neither mentioned the night ahead. Or that the two of them would be entirely alone. But Dallas was thinking about it. And she knew Boone was, too.

When they finally reached the ranch house night had fallen and so had the temperature. Boone let Dallas out at the back fence, then drove on to the barns so that he could tend to the nightly feeding chores.

Inside, Dallas quickly changed out of her dirty clothes, then went to the kitchen to find something for their supper. By the time Boone returned to the house, she was putting canned soup and fried bologna sandwiches on the table.

His brows arched with surprise as he glanced at her handiwork. “You didn't have to fix anything.”

Feeling ridiculously nervous, she gestured toward
the food on the table. “It's nothing. Just soup and sandwiches.”

Dear Lord, her voice sounded as breathless as if she'd just run a mile.

He went over to the sink, washed his hands, then dried them on a paper towel. As he walked back over to her, she could feel her heart thumping hard against her breastbone. Something on his face said his mind was hardly on food.

“We'll eat it later,” he murmured.

As soon as she nodded, he reached for her hand and led her out of the kitchen and straight to his bedroom.

It was the only room in the house that she'd not seen before, and as they stepped inside the dimly lit space, she only managed to catch glimpses of dark wood furniture and a queen-size bed covered with a plain brown comforter, before he tugged her into his arms and planted a long, searching kiss on her lips.

“I've thought of you in my arms—like this—so many times,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling the shell of her ear. “If you think it's wrong, tell me. Tell me now.”

She tightened the hold she had on his waist. “I wouldn't be here if I thought it was a mistake,” she told him, her voice vibrating with raw emotion.

He sighed and then, with a hand at the back of her head, he tilted her face up to his. “I can't make promises,” he said in a choked voice. “Promises that I can't keep. That wouldn't be right or fair.”

With one hand she reached up and tenderly stroked her fingers along his cheekbone. “I'm not asking for promises, Boone. Just love me. Right now. That's all I ask.”

Satisfied with her reply, he lifted her into his arms and gently placed her in the middle of the bed.

Dallas promptly looked down at her feet and giggled. “Boone! My boots!”

Laughing, he joined her on the bed. “Don't worry, my little darlin', those will be off soon enough. Along with everything else.”

He made good on his word. In less than three minutes' time her boots and clothes were tossed to a pile in the floor and his were lying in a messy heap next to them.

After that, Boone couldn't touch her enough or look at her enough to satisfy his senses. She was like a sweet dessert, all white and soft and full of decadent sugar. He didn't know whether to lap every inch of her with his tongue or to simply let his hands do all the searching. Either way, just having her naked curves next to his was pulsing hot blood to every point in his body.

With his lips against hers, he said, “I've been fighting like hell against this. But ever since I kissed you that first night after you arrived, I've been crazy to have you close—to make love to you.”

“Oh, Boone, I don't know what you do to me—but I can't think straight whenever you touch me. I don't want to think at all,” she admitted.

Her hands were making a slow foray down his chest and across his belly and he couldn't stop a needy groan from rolling past his lips. “All I can think is that I'm damned glad that truck of yours refused to start. Otherwise, this wouldn't have happened and I wouldn't have known the heaven of having you in my bed.”

“All things happen for a reason,” she whispered.

And the reason is you,
he wanted to add, but the words stuck in his throat as she chose that moment to pull his head down to hers.

After that, words were unnecessary as he used his lips and hands to show her how very much he wanted and
needed her. And in the matter of a few short moments, their arms and legs were tangled, the fire between them flaming high enough to scorch the bedcovers.

It had been ages since Boone had been with a woman and he told himself that the need for sexual release was the reason his hands were trembling and his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. It had nothing to do with the way her dreamy eyes smiled up at him, the way her lips gave and gave and then gave more, or the way her hands held on to him as though she never wanted to let go. No, he thought desperately. She was simply a woman and he was in need of a warm, willing body.

That's what he told himself. But deep down he knew all of that was a lie. Because he was afraid to admit how much she was shaking him, pushing him to the edge, turning his heart into a warm pool of love.

Beneath him, he could feel her body arching toward his, silently begging for release, and with his mouth on hers, he parted her thighs with his knee.

“Dallas—darling—are you…protected?” he asked, his words strangled with desire.

“Don't worry. I'm on the pill,” she assured him.

Relief rushed through him, yet even if she'd said she wasn't on birth control, he doubted he could've stopped himself from accepting all that she was ready to give. Desire was pushing all rational thought from his head.

“That's good, baby. Because I can't wait to have you.”

Her answer was to plant her hands against his buttocks and draw his hips down to hers.

All too willing to please her, Boone positioned himself and with one long, slow thrust entered her moist folds. Exquisite warmth suddenly enveloped him, surrounded him with a pleasure so intense it momentarily robbed his breath. But the moment she arched upward, the push
drew him even deeper into her body, forcing him to gasp and suck in the oxygen his lungs were screaming for.

After that everything turned into a flurry of movement as they began to move together, each frantically straining to be closer. Dallas's hands were all over him, tempting, coaxing, pushing him to give her more and more of himself, while his own hands couldn't get enough of her smooth skin, the soft mounds of her breasts, the long sinewy muscles of legs, the flare of her hips.

Faster and faster, the rhythm of their bodies raced toward that place they both so desperately needed. Yet Boone didn't want to go there. Not yet. He wasn't ready for this taste of heaven to end. And even with desire gripping his mind, he realized he would be losing more than just physical pleasure. Moment by moment he could feel his heart cracking, slipping away bit by bit as it poured from him and straight into her.

He couldn't let it go. If he did there would be nothing left to him. Yet when he felt himself reach the edge, he couldn't stop himself from plunging into the deep, hot pool of her love.

“Boone! Boone!”

He heard her cry his name, but then the roar of throbbing blood filled his ears and he heard nothing else as he desperately drove into her. Over and over. Until the final release came and his body collapsed over hers.

The weight of Boone's lax body was heavy against her laboring lungs, but Dallas didn't care. She welcomed the load, relished the feel of his hot sweaty skin melded to hers.

Pressed together, their bodies still connected, they felt as one to Dallas and she desperately wanted to hold on to the intimate moment for as long as she could. Because it wouldn't last. It couldn't last.

The sad thought had hardly formed in her mind when he rolled off her. Yet his hand remained on her waist as he stretched himself close to her side and nuzzled his nose in the hair near her temple.

“I hope I didn't squash you,” he murmured.

Rolling toward him, she wrapped an arm around his waist. “You didn't.”

“If I was too rough I—”

Her fingers touched his lips before he could finish the rest of his sentence. “Everything was right,” she murmured huskily. “So very right.”

He released a long breath, then placed a gentle kiss on her temple. Dallas closed her eyes and marveled at the warm, sweet contentment flowing through her body. She'd only known Boone a few short days and yet she'd made love to him as though they'd been partners for years, as though it was completely proper to give herself to him with such wild abandon.

“Dallas, there's something I think I should say. About Hayley. And tonight.”

Tilting her head back, she looked at him. “What about Hayley?”

The corners of his mouth turned downward. “I just wanted to explain that I didn't allow her to go on the shopping trip just to… Just so that this could happen. When I gave her permission, this thing with you and me wasn't in my mind.”

A lazy smile tilted her lips. “The thought never occurred to me. You allowed Hayley to go on the trip because you thought it would be good for her—a treat for her.” Still smiling, she pressed her cheek against his chest. “Boone, there's nothing manipulative about you. Like I said before, things happen for a reason. Besides,
even if you had planned all this, I think I would have willingly fallen into your trap anyway.”