Montana Mavericks: a hot cowboy collection

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Montana Mavericks: a hot cowboy collection Page 10

by Rebecca Zanetti


  “I’ll keep you safe.”

  He slowly drew his belt free of his pant loops, the leather whipping through with a whisper that caressed down her body. After unsnapping his jeans, he kicked free of his clothing.

  She swallowed. His cock was solid and huge. He reached into a side table for protection and rolled on a condom. Settling on his knees on the bed, he lowered himself so they were flesh to flesh.

  She moaned in pleasure at his heavy weight, her nipples scraping against his hard chest.

  Finally, she could explore him. Hard ridges of muscle filled her palms when she ran them across his chest. He vibrated, barely civilized, barely contained.

  Then, his muscles bunching, his forehead sweating, he slowly, purposefully entered her, inch by swollen inch.

  “Jake, hurry up,” Sophie groaned, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

  “Patience.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” Her words emerged garbled and breathy.

  He chuckled against her lips and then kissed her deep and sure. With a hard push, he embedded himself fully in her. Man, he was big. Almost too much. “Are you all right?”

  Concern from the strong, controlled man above her shot emotion straight to her heart. Right where she didn’t want it to go. “If you don’t move, I really am going to hurt you,” she hissed.

  His dimple dared her to try it. She nipped his bottom lip. His eyes darkened to liquid midnight. One hand held her hip in place. The other tangled in her hair. “You were being so good. Now you don’t get to move.” His hand slid around and clasped her butt.

  “Not a chance.” She tried to move against him.

  He kept her in place.

  Fire rushed down her torso.

  His weight pinned her, the hand in her curls tethered her, and the hand at her butt kept her still. He was in complete control. He waited, his gaze determined, his focus absolutely on her.

  At least a minute passed.

  Finally, she relaxed beneath him. Obeyed his silent demand to submit. She could trust him—and she did.

  He moved her against him. Then moved faster. Then started to pound. As he took over her body, he breached her last emotional shield. Heat coiled inside her, rolling outward, powerful waves lighting her nerves. She exploded. Tears filled her eyes as the intense ripples devastated her.

  He thrust harder, prolonging her orgasm, filling the world with Jake Lodge. Finally, with a low growl of her name against her skin, he leaped into pleasure with her.

  Exhaustion shuttered her eyes closed before he’d removed the condom and tucked her close. He smoothed a kiss against her damp forehead. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

  This was too much, but she was too tired to deal with any emotion. In the morning, she’d figure everything out, and right now, she was just going to enjoy the hard-bodied cowboy. With a sigh, she turned boneless. Warm and safe, she stretched into oblivion.

  …

  Sophie awoke to a large hand idly caressing her hair on the pillow. Her back was pressed against his broad chest, and warmth flowed around her, through her. She slowly stretched sore muscles that hadn’t been used in much too long. And never like that. Jake had awoken her three other times during the wonderfully long night, and it was well worth it each time.

  “Good morning.” His voice rumbled with sleep.

  “Morning.” She snuggled into his warmth and stilled as parts of him hardened instantly. “What are you, a machine?”

  He chuckled. “No. All of me just likes all of you. A lot.”

  “Ditto.” She stretched like a lazy cat with a big yawn.

  “We have to talk,” he said.

  Uh oh. Not exactly what a girl wanted to hear after an incredible night of sweaty sex. “’Bout what?” She masked her yawn this time.

  “The condom broke,” Jake said.

  “Which condom?” Her brain was too fuzzy to capture his meaning.

  Strong arms tightened around her. “The third one.”

  “Oh.” Reality slammed with a thud as her eyes focused on the painting of a desert landscape on the opposite wall. Thick rust and orange cascaded in firm swipes illustrating hard rock. “The condom broke.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Inside me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh,” she murmured.

  His hand resumed playing in her curls. “How’s the timing on that? You know, cycle wise?”

  Her heart pretty much stopped beating. “Ah, the timing.” She calculated in her head. Once and then again. “Um, the timing would be ideal if we were planning to procreate.”

  He stiffened behind her. Not in the good way. “Ideal, huh?”

  “Yes.” Dread made her limbs heavy. “But, hey. No worries to you. Really. I’ve got this.” Could this be any more awkward?

  One smooth motion had her under him. All of him. Amusement warred with intent in his eyes. “You’ve got this?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She nodded vigorously against the pillow, her face aching as embarrassment spiraled heat into her cheeks. She bravely met his gaze even as her breasts pebbled in response to his welcome weight. Condoms broke—it was possible, even in this day and age. Nothing was a hundred percent, even though people acted like condoms were. The warning was on the box, for goodness sakes.

  “Sophie?” He lowered his face. His muscled body pressed her into the mattress. “Do you think you’ve gotten to know me during the time we’ve spent together?”

  She groaned. Even with the recent revelation of a broken condom, her body reacted to the feeling of him against her. She fought to keep from moving against him. From stretching up into his heat. “Yes?”

  Jake’s jaw firmed. “If you had to guess, how do you think I’d react to your statement?”

  “My statement saying that I got this?” Her voice whooshed out in a breathy whisper. She tried to concentrate on the subject at hand. Instead of the hardness caressing her flesh.

  “That statement,” he said.

  “Um. Not so good?” she whispered.

  His eyes glittered in the morning light. “Not so good,” Jake affirmed.

  “Ah. Sorry.”

  “If you are pregnant,” Jake said, enunciating each word, “we will deal with it together.” He pressed a hard kiss against her lips. “Got it?”

  “Yes.” She gave up the fight and moved against his hard erection.

  His gaze was intent. “Sophie?”

  “Yes?” She moved again.

  “Are you trying to distract me?” he asked.

  “No. I’m trying to motivate you. Is it working?” She flashed a grin.

  His eyes flared, hot and bright. “Yes.”

  “Thank God. Use a good condom this time,” she said.

  Chapter Twelve

  Monday morning, she found a third note on her windshield. This one was even more threatening. Last chance. You don’t wanna ruin the land. Should she tell Jake? Or the sheriff?

  She stuffed the note in her purse and spent the day preparing for the hearing. She’d call Quinn the day after.

  The doorbell chimed as night approached, and she flew down the stairs to keep from disturbing Mrs. Shiller, who’d gotten sick.

  “Preston.” Seeing Aquaman on her doorstep wouldn’t have shocked her as much.

  “I flew in with the Charleton Group’s attorneys, grabbed a car, and came to surprise you. Surprise.” Sunlight glinted off his silver watch as he leaned forward to peck her on the cheek. His beautiful suit with a Burberry tie complemented his deep eyes and wavy blond hair, and he looked as out of place on Mrs. Shiller’s country porch as a scarecrow by the Eiffel Tower.

  Relief filled her that she wouldn’t be alone. “I’m surprised.”

  “I thought you could use moral support tonigh
t.” He lifted foam boards she’d stacked by the door and led her to a silver Jaguar.

  Sophie handed over the remaining exhibits, sank into the front seat, and squirmed. Her uncle’s company must really need the job if Preston had left a city for the country.

  “You rented a Jag in Maverick, Montana?” she asked.

  “There was only one, pretty lady.” Preston shut her door then placed the colorful boards into the trunk of his car and climbing into the driver’s seat. “We can celebrate later tonight

  Her mind reeled. She had enough to worry about without hurting Preston’s feelings about the cruise. No way could she go with him now, considering she’d had crazy monkey sex with Jake Lodge last night. “I’m sure I can catch a ride home. I think my friend Loni will be there.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance as Preston maneuvered the sleek vehicle through the windy road past town. “How have you managed this last week? I thought I was kidding when I asked how it was being in the middle of nowhere.” A hard rain began pelting the car, and he flipped on the wipers.

  “It’s peaceful here.” How could he not see how quaint and safe the town was?

  A jagged arc of lightning lit the forest on either side of the narrow road and belied her words. “So is the moon, but I don’t want to live there,” Preston said tersely. “The casino is on the other side of the reservation?”

  “Another twenty miles on the way to North Dakota.” Sophie shivered in her white summer suit as the night grew even darker outside the purring vehicle.

  “I did some checking and the tribe wants to build its own golf course on the other side of the land, away from the lake. They’re supposed to break ground in the next few months,” Preston said.

  Her saliva dried up in her mouth. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  If Jake was fighting her for monetary reasons and not “for the land,” she’d kick his butt.

  “Why don’t you fly home with me tomorrow? The commissioners might not make a decision for another week.” Preston wrenched the wheel to the left as a branch crashed into the road, scattering green pine needles all around.

  “Actually, I thought I’d stay. I was hired to design a memorial garden and should be able to finish it this week.” She’d come up with a great plan and couldn’t wait to share it.

  “Hired? By whom?” Preston asked.

  “My friend Loni.”

  Preston stiffened. “Is she from Maverick?”

  “No. She’s on the tribal council,” Sophie admitted.

  “Sophia. They’re on the opposite side of us on this,” Preston drawled.

  Just because the tribe opposed one of her clients didn’t mean the tribe couldn’t also be her client. Plus, she wanted to create that garden. “They’re not involved in the golf course design. The tribe is a separate entity, just like any other citizen, and it happens to oppose the proposal. It’s not us against the tribe…”

  “Are you sure about that? I heard their lawyer is ruthless.” Preston’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

  “Jake Lodge.” Just saying his name skittered heat across her lower belly.

  “Yes. Jake Lodge.”

  City lights came into view, and Sophie shook her head. “Jake isn’t like that.” He couldn’t be. He was a good guy.

  “You sound like you know him, Sophia.” Preston’s voice lowered to a timbre she’d never heard before.

  She shifted uncomfortably in her plush seat. “For the love of Pete. Would you please stop calling me Sophia?”

  “That’s your name,” Preston said.

  “I go by Sophie.” She hunched her shoulders, feeling like an idiot for not complaining sooner.

  “Why didn’t you ever say something?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Sophia sounded right coming from you.” Until Jake Lodge came into her life.

  “What is going on with you, Soph…ie?” Preston parked in front of the brick County Justice Building. Fat raindrops plopped onto the windshield, and the wind rattled against the glass.

  Sophie could only shrug as she jumped out of the car and looked up at the five-story stately brick building presiding over Main Street. Preston retrieved the exhibits from the trunk, and they dashed inside the double doors.

  She smoothed her white pencil skirt as her tan pumps clacked on the wood floor while she followed signs to the public meeting room. Her stomach dropped at the sheer number of utilitarian blue chairs lined up in rows.

  Preston waved to two men seated at a long table and nudged Sophie in their direction. She skirted the rows of chairs and strode toward them.

  “Miss Smith.” Oliver Winston stood and smiled. Sophie shook his hand, having met the Charleton Group’s managing partner several times while creating her design. Stateliness defined him in his burnished brown suit with D&G loafers, and his Rolex shot prisms of light around the room. His red tie appeared to be hand-sewn silk.

  “This is Niles Jansten, our attorney.” Jansten took her hand in a firm grip—almost too firm. His shrewd brown eyes were set in an aristocratic face, and he smiled perfectly bleached white teeth. His silk tie screamed luxury. His eyes roamed from her eyes to her breasts and Sophie removed her hand. She gave a silent prayer of thanks she was seated between Preston and Oliver.

  Niles said, “First I’ll introduce the development, and then Miss Smith will show her design to the commissioners. They may or may not ask questions at that time. Then the public will testify. Most will babble on about how development, any development, is bad. The commissioners have heard it all before.” He gave Sophie a quick once-over and she fought an irritated shiver. “Then I’ll have a few minutes to rebut all of that and we’re off.”

  “What about the tribe?” Oliver murmured.

  Niles tapped his watch. “Either they’ll all testify with the public, or just one representative will testify on behalf of the entire tribe. It could go either way.”

  “I think their attorney will be testifying.” Preston turned to watch the public file in and take seats.

  “Oh good. A country lawyer to deal with. Can’t wait,” Niles sneered under his breath.

  Preston raised an eyebrow at Sophie. “Not so sure Jake Lodge is an ordinary country lawyer, Niles.”

  “We’ll see. Please tell me he’ll be wearing cowboy boots,” Niles muttered.

  “Actually, I’ve seen him in slate gray Armani.” Sophie kept a smile plastered on her face. “Though I doubt we’ll see that tonight.”

  “Why not?” Niles asked.

  She crossed her sandaled feet under the table. “The crowd is small town. The commissioners will be as well, I assume.”

  Preston nodded next to her. “Good point. We’re overdressed, aren’t we?”

  “I’m not.” She nodded toward a group of newcomers. “There’s Jake Lodge.” Chocolate Dockers over buffed brown cowboy boots showed long and lean legs. His crisp white dress shirt with red tie emphasized his tanned face and strong jawline, while his navy sports coat accentuated his muscled torso. His jet-black hair was tied back at the nape, giving him a primitive appearance. His brothers, Hawk, the chief, and his parents filed in behind him, along with several other members of the tribe.

  “He certainly has presence.” Preston settled back in his chair and laid a casual arm along the back of hers.

  Coal-black eyes instantly shot their way. Sophie straightened in her seat and her heart dropped to her stomach. Jake said something to his family, his gaze holding hers across the room. The others began to take their seats.

  Jake started forward, forging a path directly toward them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Several people nodded to Jake, but nobody attempted to stop his forward movement. Sophie couldn’t blame them. The look in his eyes warned of determination, and she had the oddest urge to ask Preston to remove his arm fr
om her chair.

  “So that’s how it is,” Preston murmured. “I had a feeling…”

  Energy emanated around Jake when he reached her table. “Did you drive here in that storm, Sunshine?”

  “No, I drove her.” Preston stood and extended a hand. “Preston Jacoby.”

  “Jake Lodge.” The men shook hands. There was no question they were sizing each other up. “I played the Mintwell Island course you designed outside of D.C. It was a great challenge,” Jake said.

  “Thanks. You like a challenge, Lodge?” Preston smiled.

  Jake showed his teeth. “Haven’t lost one yet.”

  “There’s always a first time.” The men released each other.

  Jake nodded. “Not now. Stakes are too high, sport.”

  Sophie’s stomach dropped. They weren’t talking about the golf course anymore. If they ever had been.

  Jake turned to the other men. “You must be Oliver Winston and Niles Jacoby.”

  Surprise flashed across Niles’s face. “You do your research, Mr. Lodge.”

  “Of course.” Jake dismissed the men with a quick grin at Sophie. “Good luck with your presentation.” He moved away after saying to Preston, “I’ll make sure she gets home tonight.” He returned to his family and took his seat.

  Loni waved at Sophie and mouthed, Good luck. Colton gave her a wide grin, Quinn nodded, and the chief winked. Several other people she had met at the branding picnic filed into the room. Ignoring the knotting in her stomach as people filled the room to capacity, Sophie waved back.

  Three county commissioners entered through a side door. First came Madge Milston, a pretty white-haired ex-librarian, then Jem McNast, a silver-haired farmer from outside Maverick, and finally Jonny Phillips, the retired high school football coach.

  Madge introduced the board and set forth the rules for the hearing. Then she called Niles to the podium.

  “He’s good, isn’t he?” Preston whispered about halfway through the presentation. Sophie nodded. Niles’s lengthy PowerPoint presentation illustrated the Group’s other developments as well as the economic advantages it had brought to other areas. He showed beautiful homes, golf courses, and views. Finally, he turned the podium over to Sophie.

 

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