Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson
14
L
IAM
HAD
NEVER
been in a situation quite like this, and he found it liberating. Hope had asked him for a sexual adventure and nothing more. In the long run, he wanted it to become something more, but in the meantime, she needed an uninhibited lover to help release the tension of all she’d been through. At first he’d thought of her issues as a handicap, but now he saw them as an asset.
Compared to her ex, he could do no wrong. She was eager for the escape from reality that he could give her with plenty of sex and multiple orgasms. That excited him.
She
excited him. Providing what she needed should be no trouble at all.
Thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth, he tasted surrender. Her soft moan told him she was willing to give him whatever he asked. His blood heated and his cock swelled. He touched her, fondling her breasts, sliding his hand between her thighs, arousing her until she trembled with need.
So did he. He’d had the foresight to grab several condoms and dump them beside the mattress. Maybe they’d use them all. He had no idea. But they were about to use another one. He lifted his mouth from hers and gulped for air. “Roll onto your stomach.”
He wanted her. Wanted
this.
As he put on a condom, she did as he’d asked and lay with her arms out and her legs spread. Her golden hair was tousled, and her skin glowed with the moisture of arousal. Heart pounding, he moved over her and combed her hair aside to kiss her nape.
She shuddered. “I need you again,” she murmured.
“I need you again, too.” The ache in his balls was almost more than he could stand. Slowly he trailed kisses down the length of her back. Then he bracketed her hips in both hands. “Lift up.”
Sliding her knees forward, she raised her sweet ass, and he almost came. But he clamped down on that urge so that he could lean down and kiss her bottom. The urge to take her nearly overwhelmed him, but he wanted to taste her first, to nibble and nip the smooth, perfect curves and listen to her quick gasps of pleasure. Inhaling, he drew in the rich aroma of a sexually aroused woman.
Moaning, she lifted even higher. Her blatant invitation shattered his restraint. Grasping her hips, he straightened and probed her channel with the tip of his cock. She was slick and hot.
She quivered. “Please
.”
With a guttural cry he barely recognized as his own, he drove forward and she came, wave upon wave of contractions that tore groans of pleasure from her throat. When her spasms slowed, he continued to thrust steadily, the breath hissing through his teeth as he fought against the orgasm that demanded release.
Not yet, not yet, not yet.
Then he felt her tighten, heard the change in her breathing. “Again,” he murmured.
“Yes.”
Her triumphant reply galvanized him. His thighs slapped hers ever faster. He was going to come. Very soon. Quickly sliding his hand over her hip and between her legs, he cupped her drenched curls. The cabin filled with their harsh breathing as he slipped one finger into her sensitive cleft.
As if he’d touched a live wire, she erupted. Her climax triggered his and he pushed deep, anchoring himself as his body shook and his ears buzzed. She might have been swearing, but he’d been temporarily deafened by the roar of his blood and the pounding of his heart.
Gradually they untangled themselves, and he got up to toss the condom in the wastebasket. When he returned to the bed, she was sitting up.
She glanced at him and smiled. “That was intense.”
“No kidding.” He climbed in and sat facing her. Terrific view. Her breasts moved seductively as she worked the tangles out of her hair with her fingers.
“Great,” she said.
“Uh-huh.” She had outstanding breasts. A man lucky enough to see her naked every night would be a lucky SOB. Hard to imagine some idiot throwing that privilege away.
“Sweaty.”
“Goes with the territory.” He noticed a bead of moisture caught in the hollow of her throat. “Hold still.” Leaning in, he licked it away. Then he moved along her collarbone, tasting her salty skin. “Lie back and I’ll give you a tongue bath.”
She caught his head and made him look at her. “And we both know where that will lead.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He grinned. “I might be out of ammunition. You never know.”
She glanced down at his cock, which was already responding. Meeting his gaze, she lifted her eyebrows.
“I can’t explain it,” he said with a shrug. “I touch you and up it goes. That hasn’t happened since I was seventeen.”
“Very flattering.”
“Makes me feel pretty damn good, too. Judging from my recovery rate, I have a real shot at being your fantasy man.”
“I never doubted it.”
“Thanks.” Smiling, he brushed his thumb over her nipple. “Lie back,” he murmured. “Let me lick you all over and see where that takes us.” He cupped her breast and began a gentle kneading motion.
Desire lit her gray eyes, and her breathing quickened. “Like there’s any question.”
“You’re right, there’s not. My tongue and your body are an explosive combination.”
“And I would love every minute of it. But...but I—” She closed her eyes. “Damn, that feels good.”
“Think of how great my tongue is going to feel.” He drew closer and settled his mouth over hers. Kissing her softly, he started easing her to her back.
To his surprise, she put her hands on his chest and pushed. He lifted his head. “Hope?”
“We need sleep.” Her voice was soft and breathy as she rubbed her palms over his sensitized skin. “I should go.”
“You don’t seem very sure about that.”
“Because you have awesome pecs. And you’re a great lover, damn it.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He nibbled on her bottom lip and enjoyed the feel of her hands on him. He wouldn’t mind if she moved them a little lower.
“It is if I fall asleep in the middle of Phil and Damon’s wedding.”
He stopped nibbling and looked into her half-closed eyes. “Are you worried about that?”
“Aren’t you?” Her hand wandered south, and she wrapped her fingers around his now very erect buddy.
“Didn’t think of it.”
“Me, either. I expected we’d do this once, maybe twice.”
“I see. Now that we’re heading into round three, you’re wondering if you’re in for a marathon that lasts until dawn.”
Her breath caught. “Could you really keep going that long?”
“When you’re holding my cock, I feel like I could go all week.”
“I know that’s an exaggeration.” She fondled him as she held his gaze.
“I’d be happy to test it.”
“I have an idea.”
“Me, too. If you keep that up much longer, you’ll be able to guess what it is.”
“Can you reach a condom?”
He leaned back and grabbed one off the floor. “Am I putting this on or are you?”
“Me.” She held out her free hand. “But we need to make a pact.” She tore the wrapper open with her teeth.
“Name it.” He tightened both fists and held his breath as she began rolling on the condom.
She snapped it into place and put her hands on his shoulders. “Stay right where you are. I’m climbing aboard.”
“Works for me.” Oh, man, did it ever. When she braced her knees on either side of his hips and began sliding down that fire pole, he felt his eyes roll back in his head. He just prayed he wouldn’t come right away. She was the one moving and he wanted time to enjoy the visual, although watching her would likely put him over the edge.
Once she was firmly ensconced around his rigid cock, she massaged his shoulders and gazed into his eyes. “You look happy.”
“If I was any happier I’d be airborne.” He cupped her bottom in anticipation. Oh, yeah.
She smiled. “I’ll keep you from flying away.”
“Or maybe we’ll both have liftoff.”
“Speaking of liftoff, don’t make me come twice this time.”
He squeezed gently, loving the feel of her beneath his fingertips. “Well, shoot, where’s the fun in that?”
“I mean it. When I come, you come. Saves time.”
“This is an exercise in efficiency?”
“Yes. We each get one more orgasm and then we leave this cozy cabin so we can get some sleep. That’s the pact we have to make.”
“Or what?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you gonna give me trouble, Magee?”
“No, ma’am. I never give pretty ladies trouble. Just orgasms.”
“Then why did some woman bite you?”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this when my cock’s buried in your—”
“Sure we should.
“I was kissing her when she came.”
“And she
bit
you?”
“She came really hard. Said she got carried away because it was the best...well, never mind.”
For a woman who claimed she didn’t want to get involved, Hope didn’t seem to like hearing any of this. She appeared jealous, which made no sense.
“Do you still see her?”
“Sure. She’s one of the rafting guides.”
“Do you still...”
“No. She’s married to one of the other guides now.” And damned if Hope didn’t look relieved.
She touched the scar. “Does her husband know how you got this?”
“He hasn’t heard it from me. I’m guessing she wouldn’t mention it.”
“I’m guessing not, either.” Leaning forward, she gave him an open-mouthed kiss.
He might be imagining it, but the kiss felt a little possessive. And a lot sexy. She sucked on his tongue as she began rotating her hips in a tight circle. Their discussion had taken his mind off coming, but he was right back to it now. Squeezing her soft bottom, he groaned and thrust upward.
Lifting her mouth away from his, she took a shaky breath. “Easy, cowboy,” she murmured.
“I thought you wanted this over quick.”
“Not that quick.” Her breath was warm on his face. “I want to make sure I get my ride.” Using his shoulders for balance, she eased upward.
He decided it was no coincidence that she paused at the exact point where her nipples were within licking distance. “Stay like that for a minute.”
“I thought I would.”
“Maybe two minutes.” He cradled a breast in each hand and paid attention to both. When he began to suck, her core muscles clenched. He could make her come this way, but then they’d be done. So he went back to licking and massaging. Again he felt the constriction of her impending climax.
He leaned back and gazed up at her. “If I keep this up you’re going to—”
“I know.” She gulped. “And I said only one, but—”
“Rules were made to be broken.” He drew one tight nipple into his mouth and rhythmically sucked as he pinched and squeezed the other.
Trembling and gasping, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and claimed her release. Somehow he managed to hold off, although with her tremors massaging the tip of his cock and her breast filling his mouth, that wasn’t so easy. Still, the idea of breaking her rule gave him extra motivation.
He continued to kiss her breasts as she recovered enough to stop digging her fingers into his shoulders. He loved the weight nestled into his palms and the incredibly soft texture of her skin. He tried not to think about the day he wouldn’t be allowed this close, the day she called a halt to everything.
He’d been arrogant to think he could change her mind, especially in a week. But he did find her jealousy fascinating. There was no other word for the way she’d reacted when he’d explained why he had the scar.
With a sigh of pleasure, she sank down onto his cock again and looked into his eyes. “Thank you for being flexible.”
His burst of laughter apparently surprised her, because she blinked.
“Sorry.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s just that nothing about me is flexible right now. I’m stiff all over, especially the part of me that’s intimately connected with you.”
Locking her hands behind his neck, she leaned back. “Would you say, then, that you’re thick and firm?”
“Very.”
“We weren’t just talking about fries tonight.”
“I know.”
“Liam, thank you for indulging me in this fantasy. Some men would tell me to go to hell, but you didn’t.”
“I can’t imagine any man stupid enough to tell you to go to hell.”
“I can.” And she began to move, treating him to the incredible sensation of her sliding up and down his very thick and firm cock.
“Yeah, well, too bad for him.” He wondered if that jerk had ever appreciated her. Unlikely. But for the next week, the only time he’d been given, he’d appreciate her to the depths of his soul. “I’m here and he’s not.”
15
H
OPE
HAD
WORRIED
she might be wired, but she slept better than she had since Tom left. She could tell by the angle of the sun that she’d stayed in bed longer than she ever had at home. Apparently Liam-induced orgasms had a beneficial effect.
While she showered and dressed, she naturally thought about that tall cowboy. Judging from the mutual pleasure so far, ending the affair after a week wouldn’t be easy on either of them. She’d likely still see him when he picked up or dropped off rafting clients.
She’d set up the rules, which meant she could break them just like she’d broken one last night. They could keep dating after they returned to Cody. And then what? Nothing ever stayed the same, so they’d either get sick of each other and break up, which would suck, or they’d get more attached and move in together.
That was the part making her stomach churn. She couldn’t face the idea of bringing another person so close, at least not until she figured out who she was and where she was going. She used to know, but she didn’t anymore.
Talking with Chelsea had made her realize that her current job was only a placeholder, something to pay the rent and buy groceries. And she
really
didn’t know what to do with her spare time. Maybe stained glass would turn out to be the exact thing she needed. But if her job wasn’t fulfilling, then she should probably start there and figure out what she really wanted to do to earn money.
Adding a man to the mix wouldn’t help. He’d have suggestions. Men always seemed to have suggestions, at least the ones she’d known. This was something she needed to work through on her own.
She’d miss Liam after this week was over, and not only because of the sex. He was good company and a compassionate friend. But despite agreeing to a short affair, he was at heart a long-term kind of guy.
A week while they were both in Sheridan didn’t bother her conscience too much. Chances were he wouldn’t find his perfect partner this week. If she had any inkling that a wedding guest could be that person, she’d back away immediately. Really she would.
She walked into the kitchen hoping to find Liam there, but once again she was disappointed. Chelsea sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast and chatting with Rosie but otherwise the kitchen was deserted.
Rosie and Chelsea greeted her with smiles and comments about how rested she looked. She was glad she’d insisted on leaving at a somewhat reasonable hour last night so she hadn’t walked into the kitchen looking like a zombie. Rosie wanted to fix her some breakfast, but she insisted on doing it herself.
“Then I’ll make another pot of coffee,” Rosie said. “This is the quiet before the storm, so we should sit and enjoy it.”
“I hope that’s not literally true.” Chelsea left the table to peer out the kitchen window at the clouds hanging over the Big Horn Mountains, then checked her phone. “Looks like a few showers midday but it’ll clear by four, which is perfect timing.”
“So where is everybody?” Hope cracked two eggs into a small frying pan.
“Last-minute errands in town,” Rosie said. “Liam and Grady offered to pick up the cake and flowers. Herb and Finn are getting the matching vests for the four guys. They had to order them from a place in Jackson, and they didn’t show up until late yesterday afternoon.”
“I saw a picture,” Chelsea said. “They’ll be stylin’. I like a man in a vest.”
“You and me, both,” Rosie said with a chuckle. “Anyway, I already had my hair done, but Edie’s doing Lexi’s and Phil’s while Damon, Cade and Karl are... God knows what those men are up to. I told them not to drive out here and pester us because they’d only get in the way.”
“Obviously I decided to stay here and keep Rosie company,” Chelsea said. “It gave us a chance to talk.”
“Oh!” Hope turned, the spatula in her hand. “Am I interrupting? I can eat on the porch.”
“You’re not interrupting a thing,” Rosie said. “Chelsea was just filling me in on how well Finn’s doing.”
“With his microbrewery?” Hope dished her eggs and got a fork from the silverware drawer.
“O’Roarke’s is doing well,” Chelsea said, “but the key thing is that Finn is learning how to balance ownership of the business with having a personal life.”
“Chelsea’s teaching him that.” Rosie grabbed the coffee carafe and a mug for Hope from the counter. “He’d turned into a real workaholic, but he’s a lot better since he and Chelsea moved in together.”
“That can change things.”
For good and bad.
“I wasn’t even sure if it would work.” Chelsea added cream to her coffee. “Thank goodness it did. We’ve talked about making it official, but we’re both really busy, so we have to find a good time.”
“I wish you’d have the wedding here,” Rosie said, “but I know your folks are in Washington.”
“They are, plus a whole bunch of relatives.” Chelsea leaned over and squeezed her arm. “Nothing says we can’t repeat our vows in a small ceremony at the ranch.”
Rosie’s blue eyes sparkled. “I would purely love that.”
“So would Finn. So would I, in fact. I adore this ranch.” She turned to Hope. “It’s your first visit, right?”
Hope nodded as she ate. “It’s been great. Seeing Phil after all this time and then being able to meet everyone here has been wonderful. I’m so glad she invited me.”
“Well, of course she would!” Chelsea laughed. “You stole flowers together. You’re bonded for life!”
“We’re lucky Mrs. Eddleston was the forgiving type.” Hope picked up her coffee.
“She’d have to be made of stone not to melt when she heard that song,” Rosie said. “If four girls appeared on my porch and sang to me, I couldn’t have stayed mad at them, either. And it’s not like I was a pushover.”
Chelsea smiled at Hope. “I asked Phil if you’d written other songs and she said no, but that you were always writing something—stories, little plays, poetry. And you told me you weren’t artistic.” She gave her a mock frown. “You were holding out on me.”
“Not really.” Hope kept her tone light. “I don’t do any of that now.”
“Why not?”
Hope shrugged. “The well ran dry.”
“That’s too bad.” Chelsea gazed at her with a speculative look in her eyes. “You mean like writer’s block?”
“Something like that.”
“What a shame.”
“The world has more than enough writers,” Hope said with a chuckle. She glanced over at Rosie. “Not to change the subject, but I never did ask you whether you, Edie and Lexi are coordinating your outfits for the ceremony.”
“We most certainly are. Can’t have the men outshine us.”
“You should see what she’s wearing,” Chelsea said. “Go get it, Rosie. It’s fabulous.”
Rosie left the table and hurried through the living room.
Chelsea leaned toward Hope. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t handle that very well. I shouldn’t have asked you why you stopped writing. I don’t know you well enough to ask such a personal question, and I apologize.”
The concern in her voice had the oddest effect on Hope. Her throat closed, and tears spilled out of her eyes. Good God, was she
crying
?
“Oh, Hope.” Chelsea covered her hand and squeezed.
Drawing in a sharp breath, Hope raced out of the kitchen and nearly collided with Rosie. “Be right back!” she called as she ran down the hall. “Got something in my eye!”
She was breathing hard by the time she closed the bathroom door, leaned against the sink and battled tears that she couldn’t let fall. What the hell was wrong with her? But deep down she knew. Being here was bringing up issues she’d foolishly thought she’d dealt with.
Liam was making her feel things again and Chelsea, being creative herself, sensed that Hope was struggling after losing her outlet. Chelsea’s soul-deep understanding of Hope’s hidden pain had nearly caused a meltdown.
This was not the time or place. Her high school friend was getting married in a few hours, and Phil didn’t need any drama on her special day. Getting involved with Liam had been a mistake.
But ending things would only make them both miserable at a time when everyone was supposed to be filled with lightness and joy. Hope vowed to hold it together, although now Chelsea had seen a crack in her facade. With luck, Chelsea wouldn’t discuss that with Rosie.
Blotting her eyes with a towel, she took several deep breaths and inspected herself in the mirror. She was flushed and her eyes were a little red, but that could happen if you got a foreign object lodged in your eye.
Chelsea and Rosie were laughing about something when she walked into the kitchen, which was a good sign that Chelsea hadn’t said anything to make Rosie worry. “So where’s this dress?” Hope asked.
Rosie stood and held it up. “Ta-da!”
“I
love
it.” Hope didn’t have to fake her response. The lace dress was a combination of Victorian and Western, with a high neck and graceful lines. “Do you have boots?”
Reaching under the table, Rosie produced a pair that looked as if they buttoned up the side but in fact had a hidden zipper. “The women had all this picked out months ago,” Rosie said. “The guys waited until the last minute to order their vests.”
“They’re embroidered,” Chelsea said, “so they all look like riverboat gamblers. At first they were going to wear coats, but the women nixed that idea. Coats would be hot and besides, we like how the vests emphasize their pecs.”
“Perfect. I can hardly wait. This will be a beautiful wedding.”
“As long as we don’t end up with a thunderstorm.” Rosie folded the dress over her arm and picked up her boots.
“It wouldn’t dare,” Chelsea said.
“I’ll be back in a flash,” Rosie said. “I hate to make you both work, but we need to organize the hors d’oeuvres before the men get back.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Chelsea said.
“Me, too.” Hope glanced at Chelsea after Rosie left the room. “Did you tell her—”
“Of course not. It was my fault that you got emotional. You have everything locked down for this event, and I respect that. I’m so sorry that I upset you.”
“Obviously I still have some things to deal with.”
“I know.” Chelsea met her gaze. “I wish to hell I wasn’t leaving tomorrow. I have no idea what happened, but I think you need a friend.”
Hope swallowed. “I think so, too.” She hadn’t realized until this weekend that she’d denied herself close friends because they might probe too deep. But she needed friendship. Everyone did.
“Come to Seattle if you can get away. We have room, and it’s a mellow city. Lots of creative vibes there.”
“Thanks. I’ll consider it.” She gave Chelsea a quick hug. Then she sniffed and stepped back. “Too bad it’s too early for coffee and Baileys.”
“Is it? The sun’s over the yardarm somewhere!”
* * *
L
IAM
HAD
BEEN
entrusted to carry in the multitiered wedding cake, which was protected by a specially designed box. He and Grady had argued who would carry it into the house. Liam maintained that it was more like a sculpture so Grady should be in charge. Grady had insisted that his sculptures wouldn’t be crushed if he dropped them, while Liam was used to balancing a raft full of tourists. Yeah, maybe he’d dumped one or two, but he’d retrieved them quickly. His record was impressive.
Besides, Grady had held the boxed cake on his lap all the way from Sheridan, which he claimed was his valuable contribution to the effort. Not once had any portion of that tiered cake box touched the dashboard. They’d kept the AC on freeze to make sure the fancy decorations didn’t melt.
While Liam didn’t want the responsibility of carrying in the cake, he accepted it because—bottom line—he was the oldest and he was used to being in charge of things. Grady had that much right. So Liam maneuvered up the porch with Grady in the lead like a seeing-eye cowboy. They’d left the flowers in the truck for now because the cake was the major deal. One slip and it was all over.
They had a bad moment when the toe of Liam’s boot caught on the bottom step, but he didn’t go down. Even more important, he kept the cake level. He decided if he ever got married, there would be no cake. Cupcakes, maybe. Damon, of course, had to have the traditional wedding cake with the cute little bride and groom on the top. Liam had that embellishment in his shirt pocket.
Once he was on the porch, he could hear country music coming from inside the house and women laughing. Sounded as if somebody had decided to get this party started.
“I’ll hold the door open,” Grady said.
“I’d appreciate that.” He had to turn sideways, but he got the box through the opening. Grady directed him toward the kitchen, where the music was playing.
He heard Rosie cry out, “The cake!” but he couldn’t see a damn thing over the top of it.
“Put it on the kitchen table for now,” Rosie said.
“But where’s its final resting place?” Liam didn’t want to put it down in one spot and then watch some well-meaning bumblehead try to move it.
“On the pool table,” Rosie said. “You got here a little sooner than I expected, and we don’t have it ready. Hang on. Hope, Chelsea, Grady, help me set up the cover and tablecloth.”
Liam stood in the kitchen with the tiered box blocking his view while a current country favorites blasted in his ears. He could smell coffee and...Baileys? Surely not this early. By his calculations it was only a little past noon.
“Okay, that does it.” Rosie appeared by his side and took his elbow. “I’ll guide you into the rec room. Be sure and step over the sill.”
“I remember about the sill. Tripped on it a few times. Have you already busted out your favorite drink?”
“A little bit.” Rosie laughed. “It’s a celebration, after all. Okay, you’re almost there. Easy does it. You’re at the pool table. Put it down. Gently...gently...there!”
He set down the box with more relief than he felt bringing a raft up on shore with everyone still aboard.
“Nicely done.”
He turned to face Hope, who stood holding a coffee mug and wearing a saucy grin. “Having a good time?”
“The best.” She took a swig of her special coffee. “I love this ranch.”