Cowboy Famous: Book 4 (Cowboy Justice Association) (21 page)

His forehead came down to rest on hers as their breathing became less ragged. Eventually he rolled off of her and padded to the bathroom only to return in less than a minute and pull her close.

“Honey, that was one hell of a ride.”

“Is that some kind of cowboy after sex talk?” She punched him playfully in the shoulder. “I guess I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“It’s meant as one.” Griffin kissed her temple and pushed a few errant strands of hair off of her forehead. He was quiet for a moment. “Did you say there was chicken in the fridge?”

Giggling, she rolled to her side and ran her fingers up his chest, watching the play of muscles in fascination. “I did. Are you hungry? I am too.”

In fact, now that he’d mentioned it, her stomach felt distinctly empty and it gnawed at her insides. She wouldn’t be able to sleep until she was fed.

He sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side searching, probably for his shorts. She grabbed his arm and put her other hand on his cheek, cupping his jaw.

“Wait for just a minute.” She screwed up her courage, wanting to say something but so used to men being jerks she hesitated. But this was Griffin and if he was a jerk she hadn’t seen any sign of it. It was time to extend a little bit of trust to the male species. “You were worth the wait.”

She held her breath while he seemed to consider her words, her heart thumping in her chest. A slow smile bloomed on his face and her stomach fluttered in response.

“You too, Hollywood. Never had a better night, if we’re telling the truth here.”

“Me too. It was…” She really didn’t have the words to describe what had passed between them. She only knew that everything was different. Did he know it?

“Yeah,” he nodded in agreement. “It was something, wasn’t it? I knew you were trouble the minute we met.”

“You did not,” she denied even as he handed her the scrap of panties he’d tossed away earlier and then his shirt. It smelled like him and she happily slipped her arms into the oversized fabric, somehow still warm from his body. “You thought I was too flimsy to carry my own luggage.”

“Yep, trouble.” He stood up looking like a Greek god in nothing but those shorts. Holding his hand out, he helped her to her feet. “Let’s get some dinner. I’ve worked up an appetite.”

Maybe she was imagining it and everything was still the same. As she passed by the mirror she sneaked a look at both of them.

They looked the same.

They talked the same.

They were in the same house and going to eat the same chicken in the very same kitchen.

Maybe everything, all the emotions she’d felt only minutes ago, was an illusion. And if they were, where did that leave her?

Leaving, that’s where. If nothing had changed, then there was nothing to keep her in Hope Lake. And it wouldn’t take long to figure it out. Tomorrow morning at the very latest.

Chapter Seventeen

S
unlight streamed in the bedroom windows telling Griffin in no uncertain terms that it was later than his usual rise and shine. It didn’t matter that he’d put in a sixteen hour day yesterday or that he’d probably do it again today. There was a killer to be caught and it wouldn’t happen with him lazing around in bed, no matter how pleasant it might be.

He rolled over onto his side and looked at the woman he’d made love with last night. Jazz had scooted over to the far side of the bed leaving at least a foot of space between them, but he could still smell the fresh scent of her hair and feel the warmth of her skin. He didn’t know if she’d moved away because she’d wanted to or because she thought he wanted her to, but he didn’t like it.

To his surprise, he liked the feel of her body snuggled with his and the way her silky golden hair tangled around him. At one point last night, while he’d been inside her tight little cunt, he’d buried his face in those tresses and let himself breathe deeply. There was something about her that stirred him like no one else.

Lying on her side, her pretty face towards him, she looked like an angel peacefully sleeping. He simply couldn’t allow that to continue. He might have a million things to do today but the very first thing he was going to do was Hollywood.

He reached across the sheets and slipped his fingers between her legs, unerringly finding her clit. Brushing it with his thumb, his slipped a finger inside her already wet channel. Had she been dreaming naughty thoughts while looking sweet and innocent? He had to admit the dichotomy turned him on. Angelic on the outside but sinfully carnal on the inside. It was a dynamite combination that had made him hard enough to pound nails with his cock last night.

That same dick was awake and aroused as her lips parted and a small moan escaped. Her lashes fluttered but he stopped stimulating her long enough for sleep to win once again. Then and only then did he start up the rhythm with his thumb and fingers. The button swelled under his ministrations and she moaned again, this time louder.

“Griffin.” Jazz said it so softly he almost missed it. She knew it was him even in sleep.

Something inside his chest twisted and tightened and he slid across the bed to press his lips to hers. Capturing her pink mouth, he took his time exploring every nook and cranny, finding the spots that gave her the most pleasure. She’d been robbed in a way, their relationship not following a normal path. Any other time they would have dated, kissed, maybe even necked on his sofa before making love. His hands would have wandered all over her sexy curves and he would have catalogued every area that made her moan or even sigh. Instead, they’d had a heated coupling that he’d tried like hell to slow down. He’d simply wanted her too much.

But this morning, although his need for her raged, he could more easily control it. They could take their time, caressing and stroking, making love in an unhurried fashion. Sometimes he liked it fast and hard, but this morning he planned to take his time and enjoy himself thoroughly.

He pulled back and her eyes slowly opened, getting used to the bright sunlight. She smiled and then gasped as he moved his wandering fingers that were now clasped tightly between her thighs.

“Oh Griffin,” she sighed.

“Oh Jazz,” he teased before bending his head to tease a pouting pink nipple with his tongue. “Good morning, baby.”

“Oooooh, it is a good morning isn’t it?” Jazz wriggled but he threw his leg over her keeping her prisoner on the mattress. Giggling, she writhed under his tongue but her hands went to the back of his head, holding them there before sliding down his arms.

He quickly rolled away to grab a condom, trying to rip open the package but she wanted to help. Within seconds, they were both laughing like teenagers in the backseat of a car on Saturday night. Griffin positioned himself on his back and motioned for her to saddle up.

“Ride me. Give me a show, Hollywood,” he urged.

He wanted to see her above him, her body naked for his enjoyment while her tight pussy hugged him. She hesitated for a moment but he reached for her, helping her straddle him with her thighs. Her cheeks and chest were pink but something inside must have overrode her innate shyness. Lowering herself down on his already aching cock, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back, her lips parted in a groan.

The tension in his lower back and balls was already building too fast and he gripped her hips to slow her movements and make it last. Her snug cunt stretched to accommodate his size but wrapped him in a singeing wet heat.

Lifting her long golden hair off her neck with her arms and rolling her pelvis, Jazz rode up and then down, over and over. The pressure built until he thought the back of his head would surely blow off. Sweat formed on his skin as the temperature between them zoomed into the stratosphere.

Jazz was so fucking gorgeous with her long golden hair falling over her shoulders and playing peek-a-boo with her pale pink nipples. They were both breathing fast, their moans and groans echoing off the walls.

The pleasure was too much and it would only be a few moments before the dam burst and he shot his seed into the barrier. He reached between them and found her clit, rubbing it with his thumb until her back stiffened and her pussy clamped down on his cock. Her hands went to his thighs, the nails digging into the flesh as she leaned back, thrusting those luscious breasts into the air.

As her orgasm carried her away, his own exploded through his balls and out of his cock. He could feel his dick swelling, her pussy growing even tighter and he sucked air into his lungs as the world tilted on its axis.

So fucking good.

When she collapsed on his chest, he stroked her back, their bodies covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He nuzzled the top of her head and reveled in the feel of her velvety soft skin under his fingers and the delicious weight of her torso.

He felt the loss of her heat immediately when she rolled away, looking up at him. Her blue eyes were soft and her smile made his heart ache and his stomach twist. She was a dangerous woman but he was beginning to not care. Nothing had prepared him for Jazz Oliver.

“We better get up,” she said softly, her expression one of regret and he knew his own reflected the same feeling. “It’s going to be one crazy day.”

For the very first time in Griffin’s life he wanted to stay in bed. Specifically he wanted to stay in bed with this woman. The emotion stunned him with its almighty strength. He couldn’t have wrestled it away with sheer brute force, but could he negotiate with it?

There were too many reasons not to get involved. The first one was that Jazz would never stay in a tiny backwoods town in Montana. She was born to be a star. She had that indefinable something that made her sparkle. It was only a matter of time before she hit it big and then she’d forget all about the affable sheriff she’d had a tumble with once upon a time.

A sour taste in his mouth at that thought, Griffin pulled himself up and out of bed, grabbing a robe from the bottom bedpost. Tossing it to her, he snagged a pair of boxers for himself. Time to stop mooning over things that could never be and get back down to what was real.

Work.

“You go ahead and shower and I’ll start some breakfast.”

Turning on his heel and exiting the bedroom, he resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder at her delightfully tousled appearance. He needed to keep his eyes firmly focused on the future, and that future would never include the woman in his bed. Even if by some bizarre circumstance she would stay, he couldn’t do the whole “love” thing. He wasn’t meant for the give and take of a real relationship.

He’d forgotten it for a few hours but it was back firmly in the forefront of his mind. He wouldn’t let it go again.

*   *   *   *

Griffin had retreated inside himself, Jazz could tell. Sitting out on the back deck, they were sharing breakfast and acting normal. But something between the time they’d been in bed and when he came out of the shower had changed. He was holding a piece of himself back almost as if he couldn’t allow himself to be happy.

“Do you eat this every day?” Jazz eyed the thick bacon and scrambled eggs mixed with cheddar cheese sitting on the plate with a piece of toast slathered in real butter. “It’ll clog your arteries. You’ll drop dead at forty.”

“I’m healthy as a horse,” Griffin boasted, digging into his eggs. “My father ate this for breakfast and my grandfather too. He’s over eighty and on his second wife.”

“In that case maybe I’ll just drop dead at forty,” she retorted but had to admit the breakfast was delicious. “You’re a good cook though.”

Griffin laughed and shoveled more food into his mouth. “You’ve pretty much seen the extent of my culinary skills. I can also cook chicken and steaks on the grill. End of story. Can you cook?”

Wrinkling her nose, Jazz thought of the rare times she would make something in the kitchen. “Kind of. Does spaghetti or macaroni and cheese count? Oh wait, I can make hot dogs. You just boil them, right?”

“Griffin!” a voice called and then a young man bounded up the deck stairs, a newspaper in his hand. He had to be Griffin’s brother, the resemblance was that strong. “Damn, bro, I was pounding on the front door. Couldn’t you hear me?”