Rustler's Heart (A Kinnison Legacy Novel) (14 page)

The corner of his mouth lifted, showing an irresistible dimple as his lips hovered over hers. His breath brushed across her skin. “We both win.” He captured her mouth then, taking his time, delving into a deep kiss that drugged her senses. Small fires ignited through her, fanned each time his mouth pressed against hers. She tried to fight it—fight him—not wanting to give in.

His lips moved down the curve of her neck, his tongue teasing where her pulse throbbed against her skin. He held her wrists firm, so that she squirmed beneath his grasp, wanting to feel his body and hold it to her. Bracing her hands in one of his, he trailed his finger over her mouth, tracing her lips, drawing a path of fire down her throat, and between the valley of her breasts. He held her gaze, gliding his fingers lightly over her exposed flesh, causing her nipples to pucker through the thin cotton of her shirt. “You asked me what I want.” He licked his lips and let his gaze roll over her. “I want to watch you undress.”

Liberty swallowed, on the verge of unraveling before him, but she held his heated gaze. “So you want a private show?”

He raised his brow and nodded slowly.

Her heart thrummed. He was already undressing her with his eyes. The thought of being his private dancer was the most erotic thing she’d ever felt. “You know, I’m a hard habit to break.” She gave it right back to him. “You’ll have a hard time letting go.”

“I suspect you’re right.” He released her hand and stepped back. “As long as we both want the same thing, right?”

She studied his eyes, smoky with desire, then nodded. Taking his hand, she led him to her bedroom. “Sit there.”

She stepped into the bathroom and left the door open. In the dim light of her bedside light, she could see him seated on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders pushed back, and his large hands resting on his knees. There was no need for music, no need for pretense. Enough tension to light a city sizzled between them. She faced him and slowly lifted the camisole over her head. Dangling the shirt midair she kept her eyes fixed on him and let it drop to the floor. She drew her hands over her head and danced, moving her kips to the rhythm playing in her head. With her back to him, she dropped forward, pushing her denim clad bottom up and locked her knees as she swayed side-to-side. Looping her fingers in her back pockets, she faced him, pleased when she heard his sudden intake of air. She repeated the dance, watching her breasts bobbing freely, thinking of his large hands caressing them.

She leaned in the shower and turned on the water, finding a suitable temperature. Spa-like in quality, nothing less would suit Rein. Muted peach and ivory mosaic quartz tile covered the walls. A built-in bench curved into the back corner. The smoky hue of the glass shower doors allowed full view of the bathroom. Every detail had been thoughtfully considered. She glanced over her shoulder and goose bumps rose on her flesh as she imagined what a thorough lover he would be. In one motion, she peeled off her shorts and thong and stepped into the shower. A sound brought her gaze up and he stood inside the door, already barefoot, as he stripped off his shirt and shoved down his jeans.

She’d seen him without a shirt, the view of his chiseled body kept her awake at night, but fully unclothed, she had to force herself to stop staring like some lovesick virgin. She swallowed as he entered the stall and closed the door. Her heart raced as he lifted her face with his fingers, lowering his mouth to hers in a slow, seductive kiss. Her body teetered on the edge of release. The simplicity of his request, the raw hunger in his eyes was enough to arouse her, make her want more. His hands found her waist, drawing her close. “Is this where it gets complicated?” she asked.

“Let’s dance.” He cupped her face and claimed her mouth. No more seduction. This was, hot, demanding, and possessive. There was no retreat. His firm, calloused hands moved over her body, caressing, teasing, causing heat to pool between her legs. She slid her hand between their bodies, delighting in his quiet moan. He gently covered her hand.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he whispered, bringing her arms up around his neck and kissing her senseless again. “Turn around.”

She complied with his request and a moment later felt a cool liquid on her scalp. He slowly massaged the soap through her hair and she leaned into him, closing her eyes, surrendering to his touch. His breath was hot against her neck, his hands filled with lather smoothed over her shoulders, gliding over her skin, cupping her breasts, teasing her firm tips between his fingers. He pressed close, his hard length leaving no illusion of what he offered.

She held her face up to the showerhead, letting the soap slither down her body and his. Holding her against him with one hand, he held a cloth in the other, smoothing it over her triangle of curls and lower between her thighs. He dropped the cloth, continuing to stroke until she purred with satisfaction. She wrapped her arm around his neck, nuzzling the warm, rough underside of his jaw. Her body rocked, grow tight with need. He was more than any fantasy she’d had about him as he took his time to pleasure her, build her desire, to seduce her so completely mind, body and soul. Who’d have thought as much from this stoic, mild-mannered cowboy?

“Is this what you want, Liberty?” he whispered, his teeth raking over her wet flesh. He stroked, finding the spot that brought her to her toes, until her knees grew weak and she crumbled against him, pushing her bottom against him with a ragged sigh.

Growling low, he turned her in his arms. His mouth came down on hers in a fiery kiss that left her unable to breathe. Beneath the stream of water, he held her face in his hands. Water dripped from those impossibly long black eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes. “Protection,” he said simply.

“Birth control. I have that covered.” She reached out and touched his jaw, drawing him to her, culminating in another heart-stopping kiss. She ached for him, wanted him everywhere, on her, and inside her. He lifted her in his arms, braced her against the wall, and plunged deep. He held her thighs, nestled inside her and met her mouth in a slow, burning kiss. “It’s not so complicated, is it?” She smiled and kissed a bead of water from his eyelash.

“Aw, damn,” he muttered. “Next time I promise it will be slower.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I like fast.”

Bodies fused, he moved his powerful hips, filling her with each thrust. She held tight to his neck, her ankles clamped around his waist. Sweet friction, liquid heat pooled between her legs, the tension building as before with mindless desire.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his stormy gaze bore into hers.

She clung to him, trying to look at him through the delicious haze swimming in her head, commandeering her body. A soft groan escaped her lips as her body began to crash in a succession of rolling thunder. His gaze narrowed, his mouth set firm and he pushed deep twice more before giving over to his own release.

Swallowing against the dryness in her throat, she blinked, suddenly aware that the water sprayed into her eyes. She swiped at them and met his humorous gaze. “Your water bill is going to be horrific.”

The corner of his mouth lifted and he slowly dropped her to her feet. Turning into the water, he forced his hands through his sandy brown hair. He’d probably been a towhead as a child. The thought of him as a young boy sparked an unusual note of sentiment inside her. She noticed then the outline of a bear’s claw tattoo on his right shoulder, and the scar it appeared to cover. Liberty traced it with her finger.

He turned and held her face between his hands. His mouth touched hers in a kiss so gentle her body trembled.

“What’s the story of that tattoo?” she asked, averting how unprepared she’d been by his kiss.

“Attacked by a bear.” He touched his lips to hers, oblivious to her shocked look.

“A real bear?”

He pulled back and smiled. “Pretty much all they have around here.”

“How old were you?”

“You realize we’re standing here naked in a shower?”

She turned his back to her to get a closer look. “I’ve never known anyone attacked by a bear and lived through it.”

He chuckled and glanced over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have, had Jed not scared him off. We were out hunting, Jed, Michael, and me. When I realized I couldn’t outrun the bear, I rolled up in a ball and covered my head.”

“That must have been terrifying.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips to his shoulder.

“The thought of it still terrifies me. Michael suggested I get the tattoo. He believes because I lived through the attack that the bear and I are brothers now.” His hands came over hers. “Tired of my stories?”

She eased her hand lower, amazed to find him partially aroused already. “You distract me.”

Turning to face her, he kissed her softly, drawing her mind blank. “I can do better than that.”

She snaked her arm around his neck, wanting to taste him again. Her body responded, like oxygen to her soul. She feared she’d never get enough of him. “I believe you can.”

“What am I thinking now?” He touched her lips, slow and thorough, setting her skin on fire. He broke the kiss, stepped back and turned off the water.

She took his hand. “I’m hoping you’ll show me.” She slipped her hand in his and drew him out of the shower stall.

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to hurt you, Liberty. Let’s be clear about this before we go any further.”

She wouldn’t have expected anything less from this man. He said what he felt, honest sometimes to a fault. She might hate herself in the morning, but she’d waited too long—dreamt too many times of him looking at her this way. “I’m a big girl, Rein. I know what I’m doing.” She grabbed a fresh towel and slid it over him, admiring his hard body hewn by rugged work and the outdoors. His bronze skin, even his farmer’s tan on his shoulders was sexy. She focused on his firm thighs, and then dropped the towel and looked up at him with a wicked gleam. His hand shot out, smacking the wall for balance as her mouth closed over him.

“Gawd almighty,” he said in a broken whisper. “Is that....”

Liberty leaned back. “My tongue stud? What do you think?”

His gaze narrowed as he drew her to her feet, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to the bed. “I think two can play at that game.”

Rein rubbed his face with the end of his T-shirt and glanced up from his work at Liberty. She stood on a ladder, adjusting a deer horn chandelier she’d picked up at a restoration store in Billings. It couldn’t have fit more perfectly with the décor for the rustic cabin. He’d begun to think the same about Liberty. In the weeks they’d worked together, he’d come to realize that she was a voracious self-taught student, researching carefully the history of the area, so she could bring those traditions to life for visitors to the ranch. Talented in many ways and not just in bed, the secret affair that began with the explosive liaison in the shower hadn’t weakened. If anything, it’d had gotten to the point where he thought about her on a daily basis, anxiously awaiting for one of their secret “meetings.”

He calculated in his head how many such “meetings” they’d had these past few weeks. From a steamy swim in a secluded mountain lake, to sneaking up into the hayloft long after everyone else had gone to bed. They’d even tried out the sturdiness of the old tree-house, deep in the forest glen, that he and his brothers built years ago. He had to remind himself often of their temporary agreement—their summertime fling with no expectations, no strings.

But aside from the off-the-charts passion between them, he found himself savoring the moments when they’d talk about everything—and nothing at all. Those times when she’d curl up under his arm and fall asleep. She was a giving lover, aware of what pleased him. They joked about feeling like kids, having that freedom, the secret thrill of being caught. It made their times together all the more enticing.

She tipped the light, checked the fixture, and glanced at him. “What do you think?”

Standing on that ladder in those shorts and a skimpy pink tee shirt would at one time caused him to be critical of how she dressed, now he didn’t see her clothes at all, knowing intimately what a wonderland existed beneath.

“Beautiful.” He removed his tool belt and snaked his way through the disarray of furniture waiting to be arranged in the great room. During the course of the past few weeks, with Liberty taking care of the esthetics, the cabin project had been moving along much faster than expected, of the six cabins Rein had planned on this project. He already had four complete and a fifth, nearly done.

She smiled watching him. “Smooth talker.”

“Come on down here, I’ll show you smooth.”

Raising her brow, Liberty descended the ladder, turning to face him on the last rung. “It’s the middle of the day. Aren’t you afraid someone will discover us?”

Rein couldn’t be sure whether Dalton suspected the two were having an affair. He never asked, but he’d chosen to remain up at the main house after Wyatt and Aimee returned from their honeymoon. Rein had chosen not to ask why. Wyatt, on the other hand, preoccupied with Aimee, the pregnancy, and getting the nursery ready, had hardly asked about the cabins at all.

Rein lifted the hem of her shirt, seeing her smooth skin, now browned by working outside, driving him crazy at times in wearing her shorts and a swimsuit top. He pressed his face to her flesh, inching his mouth up her torso, pleased when she clamped her hands on the ladder for balance. He wanted her undone, just as she’d become an addiction for him.

Barely a week had gone by all summer that they hadn’t found somewhere to meet in private. Nights when they all gathered at the main house and he played cards with his brothers, he’d look over to find her shooting him a smile meant to invite him later to her bed. On occasion, he’d make the excuse of having to go with her on a buying trip to Billings, and most often they’d find an isolated hotel room on the edge of town for a few hours.

“Dalton’s gone to Billings. Wyatt’s rubbing Aimee’s feet and watching chick flicks this afternoon.” He breathed in her sweet scent of coconut and vanilla, gently raking his teeth across her flesh.