My Determined Suitor

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My Determined Suitor Page 4

by Shelley Munro


  Duncan waited his turn at the bar, speaking to one of the elders and a girl he’d gone to school with. Spotting Saber with the two women, he ordered a beer for him.

  When he arrived at the table Lana sat on her own.

  She leaned close so he could hear over the music. “Saber and Emily are dancing. They’ll be back soon.”

  He nodded, handing her a glass of wine while debating a walk. Bugger it. The weekend was too short for pussyfooting around. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

  “In here?”

  His brows rose.

  “Oh,” she said, laughing. “I guess you meant outside.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We should wait for Emily and Saber to come back so they don’t lose their table.”

  Yes! “Yeah, okay.” He picked up his beer and took a sip. Damn, he was shaking. He counted to ten to distract himself from thoughts of sex, and in particular, sex with Lana. Didn’t work. His cock stirred, bucking like a bull coming out of the chute. He glanced at the dance floor then at the band, willing them to finish.

  It was a long five minutes until he spotted Saber and Emily.

  “Have you finished your drink?”

  Lana tilted her head, her long, dark hair slipping over one cheekbone. “Are you in a hurry?”

  “Damn straight.”

  She blinked before her sexy lips curved into a smile. “Let’s go for that walk then.”

  “We’re going for a walk,” he said to Saber in a terse voice, not bothering to wait for a reply.

  Yeah, baby. The wicked glint in Lana’s eyes pulled his dick even tighter. He stood and held out his hand, not letting her go even when one of his friends stopped him to talk about tomorrow’s rodeo.

  “Gotta go, Kev. We’re meeting someone.” He didn’t wait for a reply this time either, instead dragging Lana from the marquee, marching away from the noise and gaiety of the fundraiser.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere private,” Duncan said.

  “Is it necessary to run?”

  Duncan slowed, letting Lana catch up. Her heels sank into the grass and she yanked them out with a trace of impatience. A frown tightened her luscious lips.

  “And do we have to go cross country?”

  He stepped up close and kissed her, sliding their lips together until the tightness left her body. She softened, leaning into him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. No bra.

  “Lana.” He dipped his fingers beneath the curved neckline of her dress, peeling one narrow strap off her shoulder. His mouth followed the path of his fingers, taking tiny nibbles of her silky skin.

  “Oops! Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Duncan didn’t see who the man was who’d spoken since he beat a fast retreat.

  “Come on.” Duncan scooped her off her feet and carried her rapidly along a dirt path and out of the light into a stand of trees. By the time he stopped walking the sounds of revelry were much farther away. He set her down in the deep shadows. “It should be more private here.”

  “Kiss me.”

  “I intend to.” And a lot more. He lowered his head to claim her lips, pushing his tongue inside. A hint of crisp wine danced across his receptors as he devoured her mouth, and he gloried in her moan of pleasure. It reminded him of the sounds she made when his cock pushed inside her clinging channel, pleasure just a heartbeat away. He loved kissing her, deciding he’d never tire of the feel and taste of her.

  When he drew back they were both breathing hard. He nuzzled the tender skin of her neck, the wet suction of his mouth making a smacking sound. Lana laughed and struggled to touch his chest, unbuttoning his shirt with urgent hands.

  He slipped his hands under the hem of her dress, lifting the silky fabric so he could touch her intimately, cup the globes of her butt with his hands. Man, the woman made him ache. His dick throbbed against his fly.

  “You have no idea how good this is, how much I needed sex,” she said.

  “Glad to be of service.” Thank God he’d come to Middlemarch. He’d almost changed his mind at the last minute, thinking he needed to let more time elapse. The idea of her fucking someone else… Hell, it had been bad enough when she’d mated with Jamie. His feline stirred, agitated by his thoughts.

  “Um…I hope you don’t think I do this on a regular basis.”

  Guilt shaded her words and his alarm rose. He’d loved his cousin like a brother but he’d died. How the hell did he fight a ghost? “Of course I don’t. You told me there had been no one since Jamie, and besides, I noticed your tightness.” Damn, they needed to change the subject. He didn’t want to talk about Jamie or the past. “Turn around. Put your hands on the tree.”

  With his excellent night vision, he caught her shiver. His eyes narrowed, his body tensing until he heard the soft hiss of her breath. His orders turned her on. He relaxed, although took care to maintain a neutral expression.

  She turned away, placing her hands on the rough tree trunk one at a time. Once settled, she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming. His ears picked up her elevated and choppy breathing. Damned sexy. Hot. His cock pulled even tighter, and he barely resisted a wince. Duncan closed the gap between them, allowing his body heat to sear her back. He pushed aside the curtain of shiny dark hair to expose her neck.

  “Duncan, we need to hurry before someone comes along.”

  “Patience, sweetheart. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like having someone watch you make love? How hot it would feel?”

  “Embarrassing,” she muttered, sounding as if she knew from experience. “I don’t like giving a show.”

  The ghost of Jamie again. Duncan stilled, shock kicking him in the gut. Interesting. He wanted details except her tone didn’t encourage questions. Another shift of subject required. He nuzzled the delicate skin of her neck and licked a tender spot right behind her ear. She sighed, so he did it again. Her flavor exploded across his tongue. Vanilla spice and honey. Decadent and addictive.

  The sound of approaching voices made her tense and him curse under his breath. If he didn’t do something quick, he’d lose her. The key to winning her was sex. He had to get her to want him, crave him. Bloody Jamie. What the heck happened in her marriage to leave these mental scars? When she stirred, he moved to both distract and reassure her. He skimmed his hands beneath her dress again, peeling silky panties down her legs.

  “No one can see us here. I promise. Lift your feet for me.” He held his breath while she hesitated, only releasing it when she obeyed. He bent, maneuvering the silk off her legs, over her shoes, and stuffed the panties in the rear pocket of his jeans. Then he set about seducing her.

  The voices came closer and closer. Lana moaned her distress at impending discovery, but to his relief she stood firm while he petted her. He slid his hands up the inside of her thighs, knowing the friction of his rope-roughened hands against her tender skin would drive pleasure to the fore. As she pushed back her bottom, seeking a more intimate touch despite the risk of discovery, he grinned in pure relief. Man, she responded so readily, so honest in her reactions. It made him hot, his feline eager to possess and mark her. He let his fingers wander closer to her sex.

  “Duncan.”

  At least she knew who made love to her. That was a start. He dipped his fingers into her cream, smoothing it back across her puckered rosette. “Do you want me, Lana?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to touch my clit,” she wailed, fingers gripping the bark of the tree while pushing against him.

  “I want that too,” he said, dark heat flashing through him. God, did he ever. “Let me tongue you first.” With light pressure on her legs, he indicated he wanted her to shift her stance. She obeyed with alacrity, her arousal a decadent scent teasing at his restraint. “That’s it. Good girl. Yeah, that’s perfect.” Unconsciously he used the soothing tones he used while handling bulls and horses. He knelt, lifting the full skirt of
her dress and kissed one thigh. Duncan heard the timbre of voices, a male and female arguing about drinking. He doubted the couple even knew they were there. With his tongue he rasped over her soft flesh, moving up to the crease of her thigh. He gripped her curvy ass with his hands, steadying her when she trembled. God, her taste and scent. The memory would be with him always—a combination of spices and sweet honey.

  “Duncan, please stop teasing.” Her voice held a note of strain and this time he thought it was sexual rather than anxiety at discovery in a compromising position.

  Hell, it wasn’t as if he could take much more of this either. His jeans tightened until he suspected a permanent zipper line etched onto his cock. His fault for discarding underwear. He raised his head and buried his face in her sweet pussy, rasping his tongue across her swollen flesh while dipping his finger into the valley running between the curves of her butt. Back and forth he licked her, tongue fluttering across her swollen nubbin, finger massaging her puckered rosette. She trembled so much he had to use one hand to steady her. Her legs tightened around his head and small cries of pleasure escaped her. Sweet. And all his—as long as he could get past her protective layers. He stroked her rosette and pushed a single finger inside while going for a direct assault on her clit. Lana gasped, a gush of juices surging against his mouth.

  “Come for me, sweetheart.” She trembled. “That’s it, babe.” He moved his finger, savoring the buck of internal muscles while he curled his tongue around and across, giving her the exact pressure she required.

  Suddenly she spasmed under his tongue, her moan of pleasure humming right through him. That was what he was talking about. He’d reel her in with hot sex and pleasure. Before she knew it, he’d have his mark on her shoulder and a matching one on his. He licked her with long, luscious strokes, letting her come down slowly before he started the process over again. When she ceased shuddering, he eased away and stood. The night had become silent apart from the faint sounds of music in the distance. As he’d hoped, the owners of the voices had passed without noticing them. They were alone.

  Duncan unfastened his jeans, the whine of his zipper loud enough to make Lana jump.

  “Easy,” he said, reverting to his soothing voice again. Two steps forward and one step back. It didn’t matter. Despite his feline’s urges, he could exercise patience.

  He gripped his cock, his head tipping back to enjoy the pleasure of his tight, stroking hand. Hell, he hovered so close to climax it wouldn’t take much more to toss him into pleasure. Fast wasn’t what he wanted between them. Duncan eased behind her, moving her body with gentle hands so she leaned forward and he lifted her dress. The sight of her damp, swollen tissues filled him with pride, with lust and a sense of ownership. His woman. He guided his cock to her entrance, sliding to the hilt in one thrust.

  “Damn, that feels good. Like liquid silk.” Giving in to temptation, he nibbled at her neck, going close but not too close to the site at the juncture of neck and shoulder where he’d mark her soon.

  “Duncan, move,” she ordered, making him chuckle.

  “Good things come to those who wait.” And ain’t that the truth. Heeding the soft demand in her voice, he upped the pace. He plunged into her tight channel, surging and retreating, letting the pleasure build and build. When the warning tingle of orgasm pulsed through him, he sought her clit, sliding an insistent finger over the sensitive nub. “Come for me, sweetheart. Now.”

  Her channel clenched his cock, and he exploded, gasping with the awe-inspiring sensations. Tight spasms milked him dry, and he stood, lungs pumping for breath, hands clutching her to his chest. Only when she stirred did he let her go and separate their bodies. In silence he dug into his pocket and pulled out a clean hanky. He handed it to her while he pushed his cock into his jeans and zipped.

  “Can I sleep with you tonight?” He asked half expecting her to say no. He’d prepared for that, telling Saber earlier he’d be around later. Initially he’d thought he’d spend the night at the campsite, make sure he got plenty of sleep before his bull riding event the next day. After meeting with Lana and experiencing her skittishness firsthand, things had changed. When it came to it, he didn’t care if he won the go-round or not. Lana was the prize he sought.

  After a quick cleanup, Lana smoothed her dress with a swish of fabric. He accepted the hanky back and stuffed it in his pocket while waiting for his answer.

  “What about Saber and Emily? What will they think?”

  “I’m sure they’ll understand. Besides, you’ve heard the gossip about the Mitchell brothers and their women. I doubt anything we do would shock them.”

  “I don’t want to start any rumors.” She stared at him for a moment before glancing down to gaze at her shoes.

  “No problem,” he said. Lie! A friggin’ big problem when he wanted to shout their relationship from the rooftops. However, to appease Lana, he’d sneak around if that was what he had to do. “Do you want to go back to the dance or head to Saber’s?”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, still refusing to look at him. “Could you take me back to the house?”

  “Sure. My SUV is at the campground. It’s not far to walk from here.”

  “Thanks.”

  Duncan gestured for her to precede him out of the stand of trees into the moonlight. When the path widened he took her arm, guiding her over the rough spots.

  Lana walked at his side in silence. “Bother.” She stopped without warning. “I left my purse with Emily. I’ll have to go back and get it.”

  “How about if we stop there on the way out to the house? I can run in and get it for you.”

  She laughed, her pale face lighting up. “Won’t you mind carting around a ladies purse? No telling what the other cowboys might think.”

  Duncan snorted. “I’m secure in my masculinity. If they want to laugh, let them. I’ll get my own back when I whip their asses at the rodeo tomorrow.”

  They walked into a deserted campground since most of the cowboys were at the fundraiser. As promised, Duncan made a quick stop to collect Lana’s bag.

  “How’s the restaurant going?” Duncan hated the crushing silence between them.

  “Really well. We have a steady clientele along with quite a few tourists. It’s hard work but I love it. Jamie said—”

  To his frustration she broke off, flashed him a fake smile and sank back into silence again. “What did Jamie say? You can discuss him, you know.”

  “No, I can’t. You were best friends and cousins. This is weird.”

  Weird or disloyal? Either way Duncan didn’t like the way Jamie kept coming between them. “Jamie was conservative. I’ll take a guess and say he’d have preferred that you didn’t keep up the restaurant after you mated.”

  “Conservative is one word for it.”

  The lifting and tightening of her jaw told Duncan Jamie’s traditional tendencies were a sore spot and a former source of tension between the mates. Whenever he’d seen them together they’d been happy, he thought, genuinely happy. Perhaps he’d ask around, do some subtle digging rather than talk to Lana. Emily might know something. If he explained his reasons for wanting to learn about Lana, she might even tell him. Likely tease him as well, he thought with a sigh.

  Finally the silence got to him. He leaned over and started the sound system. A surreptitious glance told him the move had relaxed Lana. She’d eased into the seat and closed her eyes, listening to the lyrics of the Shania Twain ballad.

  Duncan turned off the main road, driving toward the Mitchell homestead. Best he didn’t mention he’d purchased land near Cromwell and not far from Queenstown. Five minutes later he pulled up outside the homestead.

  “Lana, we’re here.” He reached over to wake her, wanting to kiss and touch her. At the last second he decided to go slow because wariness rode her like a green cowboy climbing on board an experienced rodeo bull. He grasped her shoulder, shaking her gently.

  She came to life with a jolt, senses kicking in at once. “Are we hom
e?”

  Her words squeezed his heart. Hell, yeah. They were home. Lana just hadn’t realized it yet.

  Chapter Four

  Despite the dark interior of his SUV, he caught the faint heat in her cheeks and the widening of her eyes. It was difficult to restrain his grin.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t since we’re in Saber and Emily’s house.” Lana refused to meet his gaze.

  Huh, if she thought he’d back off, acting the gentleman at this late stage, she could think again. Determination tightened his hands on the steering wheel. They were back to cat and mouse again. Fine. The idea of pursuing her pumped adrenaline through him in a heated surge. They’d go through the chase for as long as it took Lana to realize they were a couple and belonged together.

  “How about a coffee?”

  She shot him a look of disbelief. “At this time of the night?”

  “You’re chucking me out? The least you can do is give me a coffee to make sure I don’t run off the road on the way back to the campgrounds.”

  Lana made a faint huffing sound, and he had to work hard to restrain his amusement. “All right,” she said. “I’d hate to have that on my conscience.” She opened the door and climbed out, walking up the footpath to the front door of the homestead without waiting for him.

  Duncan chuckled this time, his attention drawn to the sway of her hips as she flounced away from him. By the time he followed she was already inside. In the kitchen, he leaned against the counter and watched her, content to enjoy the way she moved as she made coffee.

  “And I’d need a kiss good night,” he said, breaking the silence between them.

  Lana stilled, and he heard her swallow. Nerves, distaste or something else? Time to find out.

  “I’ll take that kiss,” Duncan said, deciding to push her and his luck. Time would tell.

  “Now?” Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

  “Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?” He prowled around the edge of the kitchen counter without taking his eyes off her.

 

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