Kiss Me (Fool's Gold series) (23 page)

The physical proof of his desire for her made her so happy, she nearly cried. Her other instinct was to part her legs, tell him never mind with birth control and protection and demand he take her right there.

As that last bit was only ever going to happen in her fantasies, she contented herself with stretching out her arm and lightly grazing the tip of him with her fingers.

He stiffened instantly, then turned to look at her.

If she’d had any doubts about his willingness to participate, they were put to rest by the fire in his eyes and the tightness of his expression. He was a man on the sexual edge, and she couldn’t wait to push him over.

He shook his head and forced his attention back to the shaving kit. At first he set the various items on the foot of the sleeping bag, but after a couple of seconds, he simply turned the container over and dumped out the contents.

“Be here, be here, be here,” he muttered as he pawed through everything. Then he grabbed a square packet in triumph. “Got one.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Only one?”

He grinned. “We’ll have to be creative after that.”

He handed her the condom, then clicked off the light. “Where was I?” he asked.

“You can pretty much be anywhere you want to be,” she told him.

“Good. Then I want to be here.”

He pulled off her panties in one smooth move. Then there was nothing. She tensed in anticipation. A whisper of breath was her only warning. One second he was beside her, the next, he kissed the inside of her ankle. She jumped in surprise.

“What are you doing?” she asked, even as she parted her thighs.

“You’re a smart woman. You figure it out.”

He kissed his way up to her knee, then moved between her legs and nibbled higher. Up and up and up until he pressed an openmouthed kiss just at that hollow by her hip.

“That’s not right,” he teased, even as he licked her tummy. “I was looking for something else.”

Anticipation had reached such a fevered pitch that Phoebe wasn’t sure she could talk—even to give directions. She could only send loud telepathic messages instructing Zane on the right place to press that tongue of his. Fortunately, the man was pretty darned good at mind reading.

He slipped from her tummy to the promised land in three seconds flat. This time, she didn’t have warning, but that was okay. She didn’t mind the surprise of his gentle caress pleasuring the most intimate parts of her.

She parted her legs even more and raised her hips in a silent invitation. He moved slowly, discovering, tasting, whispering how good this all was for him.

She wanted to tell him he should try it from her perspective, but she couldn’t form words. She couldn’t even think. All she could do was feel the liquid heat spiraling through her. Feel the tensing of her muscles as he explored all of her before settling on that one spot designed to send her into paradise. Feel the heavenly pressure of the finger he slipped inside her.

He moved in tandem, slow, then a little faster. She rocked her head back and forth, her breathing increasing. Her eyes opened, but in the darkness there was nothing to see.

Her climax approached with a speed that left her breathless. She couldn’t be ready so soon, but she couldn’t—didn’t want—to make him stop.

“Zane,” she whispered. “I can’t—”

He didn’t respond. Probably a good thing, she thought with her last bit of consciousness, right before she lost control and gave herself over to her release.

Every cell in her body became caught up in the abandon that was her orgasm. Pleasure encompassed her. There was so much inside her, it went on and on, Zane drawing it out, moving slower, more gently, silently urging her to surrender all she had to him.

At last, when she could breathe and think and move, she sighed.

“That was amazing,” she told him.

He kissed the top of her thigh. “For me, too.”

She heard him sit up and prepared to pass over the condom. But before she could, she felt his finger enter her again. Just the finger.

It shouldn’t have been that exciting, but there was something about the way he touched her. She’d just had more than her fill of orgasms, but she couldn’t help clamping around him, drawing him in deeper.

“Good?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t stop.”

Without thinking, she reached down and grabbed his wrist. Holding his hand still, she thrust her hips forward and back, finding the right pace until the heavy tension returned, and she felt the telltale contractions begin again.

He swore softly. “Can you do that while I’m inside of you?”

“Absolutely.”

She pulled his hand free and pressed the condom into his palm. “Can you put this on in the dark?”

He chuckled. “With you as motivation, I could probably put it on after I was dead.”

Then he was pressing against her.

She reached between them and guided him inside of her. As he entered her, she contracted around him. He filled her slowly, stretching her, delighting her. Each thrust was enough to send her flying.

Zane shifted so he could hold on to her hips. “I can feel you coming,” he murmured. “You’re killing me. I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Go for it,” she told him.

He took her at her word. Moving faster and faster, he pulled out of her, then slipped back inside. She lost herself in the movement, in what she was feeling. The pleasure was greater than any she’d ever experienced. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it was something about being outdoors or the placement of the moon. Whatever. At this point, she didn’t much care.

Instead, as she felt Zane tensing for his own release, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close. One last shudder rippled through her. She gave herself up to the feel of him, to the sudden weight as he wrapped his arms around her and groaned his surrender.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

P
HOEBE
HAD
ALWAYS
dreaded the awkward moments of “after.” After making love. Not that she had a lot of experience with that sort of thing. She’d had lovers before, just not tons. And in her world, the after part was fraught with peril.

Usually there was the whole cuddle versus not cuddle. Plus the conversation. Often the conversation went along the lines of “was it good for you?” Because it wasn’t always. Sometimes it wasn’t at all. Generally she walked around the truth, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings.

For an assortment of reasons, she often wished to avoid the whole postcoital chitchat. So she’d never once in her entire life had to lie there, flushed with an incredibly relaxed feeling while fighting growing humiliation over her body’s inability to stop having orgasms.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Zane shifted off of her. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?”

She heard the caution in his voice.

“I was too...you know.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Too, what?”

“Wanton.”

There wasn’t any sound. Not even a hint of sound. Then he laughed. It wasn’t a chuckle. It was a huge, from-the-belly laugh. The kind that made it impossible for the person laughing to move or breathe or even stop.

“Zane?” She shook his arm.

He continued to laugh. The sound seemed to echo all around them.

“Zane, stop. You’ll wake up everyone.”

That seemed to get his attention. She sensed his attempt to control himself, although a few guffaws escaped.

“This isn’t funny,” she told him in a heated whisper.

He leaned close. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel him.

“Phoebe, you’re the most amazing lover I’ve ever had. You’re sexy, responsive to the point of being a lethal weapon, sweet, funny, caring and if I had a box of condoms, I’d use every single one before sunup. But you’re not wanton.”

His words made her feel a little better, but only a little. “I don’t usually, you know, climax that much. Or at all.”

“You did with me.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to please you.”

She smiled. “I could tell.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want you to think less of me.”

He touched her cheek, then outlined her mouth. “I think the world of you.”

Her concern faded like mist in sunlight. “Really?”

He kissed her. “Absolutely.”

Zane should have known Phoebe wouldn’t be like other women, he thought as he settled next to her and pulled her against him. Not out of bed and certainly not in it.

“Anything else you want to worry about?” he asked, sure there was.

“Well...” She sighed. “I know guys aren’t into the whole all-night thing. I should probably go stay with Maya until morning.”

They were lying naked on his sleeping bag, their legs tangled, his fingers in her hair. He could smell her and their recent lovemaking. After sex most women wanted to talk, and he didn’t doubt that Phoebe was in the mood for a lengthy discussion on emotions—particularly his.

Normally that would send him running for the hills. He liked his relationships easy, with well-defined rules. No caring, no commitments and definitely no spending the night.

Which meant it was crazy for him to say, “You can stay here if you don’t mind the cramped quarters.”

She shifted in his arms. He guessed she was peering at him in the darkness. “Really?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’d like that. But we have to get up early so no one knows I spent the night here.”

“Cookie’s going to figure it out when I don’t show up to share the wagon with him in this rain, but don’t worry. He won’t say anything.”

“Good.”

They made their way into the sleeping bag. It was crowded, and she was still naked, so it only took about three seconds for him to get hard again.

She reached between them. “Are you sure there aren’t any more condoms?”

He flexed at her words, then groaned softly. It was going to be a long night. “Positive.”

He was torn between asking her to stop tormenting him and begging her to keep on doing it. The outcome of the latter was inevitable, and in a sleeping bag, more than a little messy.

Just a few seconds more, he told himself as he closed his eyes and gave himself up to the steady stroking of her hand. He would stop her before things got out of control.

But Phoebe being Phoebe and his attraction to her being what it was, that point of “out of control” arrived a lot faster than he would have realized. Painfully aroused and right on the edge, he grabbed her wrist.

“You’re killing me.”

“So not my purpose.”

Then she stunned him by opening the sleeping bag, pushing it away and sliding down between his legs. As her fingers toyed with his testicles, her mouth settled on his erection. From there it was a thirty-seven-second journey to heaven.

Later, when he’d returned the favor and they were back in the sleeping bag and tangled together, Zane allowed himself to wonder what life would be like with Phoebe. Would she enjoy his world or would the wide-open spaces wear on her? He had a feeling she would hold genealogy classes for the goats and self-actualization classes for the steers. She would make him crazy, and she would make him laugh.

She would love him.

Phoebe was the kind of woman who, once she committed to a man, would give her heart completely. She would love with her whole being, and forever, unless the guy was a complete jerk and broke her heart. Phoebe was made to love and be loved.

She could never be for him. He didn’t want to love anyone—ever. Love was isolation and danger and pain. Which meant he should have told her to head over to Maya’s tent. Safer for him and for her.

Instead he pulled her sleeping body close to his and lightly kissed her hair.

Tomorrow, he promised himself. He would end this tomorrow. Was it so wrong to want to have this one night to remember?

* * *

Z
ANE
AWAKENED
THEM
both early. By the time Chase stirred, he had both their tents down and was on his third cup of coffee. Phoebe had promised she could act completely normal, but looking at her from across the fire, he wasn’t so sure. There was no way anyone could see her dreamy expression and not know something was different.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What? You keep looking at me. I know my makeup can’t be smudged. I’m not wearing any.”

It didn’t matter; she was still beautiful.

“You look different,” he told her. “Satisfied.”

Color flared on her cheeks. “You’re only saying that because you know the truth.”

“Uh-huh.”

He doubted that, but maybe she was right. Or maybe the weather would be enough of a distraction to keep everyone from figuring out the truth.

“How long is it going to rain?” she asked as she fingered a pole holding up the canvas sheet they put up to protect the fire and the seating area around it. “It sure got cold and damp in a hurry.”

Zane shrugged. “No way to tell. The storm is supposed to hang around for a few days, but maybe it will blow over.”

He hoped it would. Traveling in the rain wouldn’t be fun for anyone. And he couldn’t simply turn them around, head to the ranch and be there in time for lunch. They were at the farthest point from his house. It was a full two-day ride back.

Phoebe finished her coffee. “I’m going to check and see if my things are dry,” she said as she stood.

He nodded, then watched her go.

Cookie had started a second campfire on the far side of camp. Phoebe’s clothes and sleeping bag were getting a dose of smoky warm air in an attempt to get them dry before they headed out. Zane knew the old man wouldn’t tease Phoebe. Instead he would save his comments for Zane.

“Hey,” Chase said as he approached. “The rain sucks.”

“Agreed.”

His younger brother settled on a log. “I checked on the cattle. They’re fine. The clouds don’t look like there’s going to be any lightning or thunder, but they look plenty wet.”

Zane nodded. “Storm’s supposed to last two days. I was hoping it would hold off until Saturday.”

Chase sipped his coffee. “Everybody okay?”

There was something about the question. Zane stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Just checking.”

Had Chase heard something in the night? Zane shook his head. Not possible. His tent had been some distance from the others, and the rain had blocked out a lot of noise. Nothing about his brother’s expression told what he was thinking.

“We’re heading back today, right?” Chase said.

“That’s the plan. I wish it wasn’t a two-day ride.”

“There’s—”

Chase stopped speaking and stared at his coffee. Zane knew what he’d been about to say. Reilly’s place. It was only about an hour’s ride. The old man would give them shelter until the worst of the storm passed, and even send out a few of his men to watch over the cattle until then.

But Zane wasn’t about to impose on his neighbor. Not now and not ever.

He glanced at the sky and wondered how long he could take a stand in weather like this. Whatever his issues with Reilly, his guests’ safety came first.

“I better see how everyone’s doing,” he said as he tossed the rest of his coffee into the fire.

“Before you go,” Chase said and held out something in his hand. “I wasn’t sure if you had enough with you.”

Zane stared at the three condoms resting on his brother’s palm. Then he glanced at Chase, who was grinning.

“Way to go, big brother.”

Not knowing what to say, Zane rose and stalked off. But not before he took the condoms. He might be stubborn, but he wasn’t a fool.

* * *

F
OR
THE
FIRST
time since starting on the cattle drive, Phoebe wasn’t having fun. It was wet and cold, and the bad weather showed no signs of letting up.

Lucy rode next to her. The girl was soaked to the skin, and Phoebe was afraid she’d started to shiver.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Lucy nodded, but when she tried to speak, her teeth chattered.

This couldn’t be good. Right now Phoebe was so darned happy that she could have survived a seven-day blizzard, keeping warm on the glow left over from her night with Zane, but there were more people on this cattle drive than just herself.

C.J. rode up. Her face tightened with obvious concern. “Lucy, honey, don’t you have a raincoat? Your jacket is dripping.”

“I’m ok-kay,” the girl muttered. “I’m having fun.”

C.J. glanced at Phoebe. “We can’t go on like this,” she said. “The kids will get sick.”

Phoebe nodded, but before she could decide what to do, Rocky slipped in the thick mud on the trail.

The large horse sidestepped quickly and nearly went down. Phoebe shrieked as she clung to the saddle. After a couple of steps the long-legged horse managed to catch his balance. When she was able to breathe and relax her death grip, she looked up and saw Zane riding up.

“Everyone gather round,” he yelled. “Chase, bring Martin and Thad over.”

He wore a thick coat that looked as if it could repel any liquid known to man. His cowboy hat protected his face and neck and his leather gloves probably kept his hands warm.

So there was more to this Western wear than just fashion, Phoebe thought humorously. After last night, she could even understand the appeal of shirts with snaps. The easier to get undressed quickly.

Maya rode up and stopped next to her.

“This sucks,” she said sourly. “I hate being wet.”

Phoebe nodded. “It’s no fun.”

“I doubt it’s going to get any better. I have no idea where we are, which probably means we’re not that close to the ranch.”

When all the folks had moved close to Zane, he spoke.

“We’ve hit a patch of bad weather, and I doubt it’s going to let up anytime soon. We need to get to cover. The ranch is a good two-day ride from here.”

Maya didn’t look surprised at the news, but several people groaned.

Eddie shook her head. “Gladys and I are up for it, people. So you have to be, too.”

Zane held up a gloved hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to make you stay out in the rain that long. There’s another ranch about an hour from here. We’ll leave Chase and Cookie with the cattle and ride directly there. We should arrive before lunch.”

Phoebe was stunned. “Reilly’s place?”

Maya stared at her. “How do you know about Reilly?”

“He told me—about what happened before and why they don’t get along.”