Her Christmas Cowboy

by Jessica Clare

  “No need to apologize, baby.” It felt good to call her that. So good. Caleb kissed her again, his lips playing lightly over hers. Sweet, gentle caresses were what he wanted to give her right now. They’d made love passionately before. They’d made love with enthusiasm, and they’d been frisky and played and teased as much as they’d kissed. But right now, he wanted to be tender with her. To make her realize just how very loved she was. So he pressed another kiss to her mouth, and then began to kiss lightly along her jaw. “Never apologize. Just let me be here to support you.”

  “If we’re together,” she told him in a trembling voice, “I’m going to need my own place. Not this one, but someplace where I can be independent.”

  Did she think that was a deal breaker for him? He didn’t mind. “At some point I’m going to want to marry you and move in together. But I’m happy to wait for as long as you need.”

  “At some point I’m going to want that, too. Just . . . not yet.” Her fingers curled in his hair, holding him as he went to her ear and nipped. A little sigh of pleasure escaped her when he took her earlobe and began to gently suck on it. “I want to keep my job, too.”

  “Fine with me.”

  “I’m just telling you this because I want you to know where I stand,” she explained, breathless. “It doesn’t mean I don’t need you in other ways.” Amy sounded uncertain once more, as if she were afraid he was going to lash out at her.

  He simply kissed her earlobe again, then traced the outline of it with his tongue. “All I ever wanted was to be at your side, Amy. I don’t need to own you. Be as independent as you like. I’m your partner, not your owner.”

  “That’s the difference, isn’t it?” Her voice was soft.

  “It’s everything.”

  “Caleb,” she whispered, his name reverent on her tongue. “I missed you. I thought about you all night and cried. I wanted you so badly but I didn’t trust myself not to use you. Not to fall into the same trap I did before.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” he promised her. “I like the way you are now.” He hesitated, lifting his head. “Though I would prefer for you to stay someplace that has heat.” She must have had a fire going last night, he figured, because her bedroom was only frigid instead of ice-cold.

  “I’d like that, too,” she told him. “For now, can we just share body heat?”

  He thought she’d never ask. Caleb kissed her on the mouth again, slow, tender, and thorough. When she was breathless and squirming in his lap, he gently set her down on the bed and peeled his coat off.

  Donner immediately moved to her side and began to lick her face.

  Amy sputtered, laughing, and hugged the dog around his neck. “Perhaps we should put you in your warm bed in the other room, hmm, my old man?”

  “I’m in favor of that,” Caleb agreed.

  “Come on, Donner,” she said, scooting out of the bed. “Let’s get you the peanut-butter jar and you can lick it while your dad licks other things.” She tossed a saucy wink at Caleb, shaking her hips as she headed out of the bedroom and into the living room.

  Damn, but he loved that woman. His heart felt like bursting from pride at her stubbornness, and at the sheer joy of being with her. No matter what came up, they’d solve it together. They just had to communicate. He pulled off layers of clothing, removing his shirt and pants, his socks and his boots, while she murmured and baby-talked to the dog in the other room. By the time he was down to his boxers, she’d returned, and her gaze devoured him. She had such hungry eyes, his Amy, as she moved toward him. She extended a hand, touching his stomach and tracing down his abdomen before moving to cup his cock. “I love the way you look,” she confessed to him. “I could look at you all day long and not get tired.”

  “Funny, I feel the same way about you.” He put his hand to the tie of her robe and undid it. The flannel material fell open, and he’d never thought red-and-green-checkered plaid was so damned sexy. On her, anything would be sexy, though. It wasn’t just her body, but the way she looked at him, the way she smelled, the way she moved, the way she made those soft noises of need. Everything that Amy was turned him on. It was just another reason she was utterly perfect for him, in every way.

  Underneath the robe, she wore his T-shirt. He hadn’t even realized she’d stolen it from him that night of the Christmas party, but it made him even harder just seeing her wearing it. He loved it, loved the sight of her long legs peeking out from underneath the hem, the shift of her loose breasts against the fabric. He pushed the robe off her shoulders and then pulled her against him for another kiss, his hands sliding to her hips and then hiking the shirt higher.

  She wasn’t wearing panties underneath.

  Caleb groaned against her mouth. It was like she’d instinctively known just how much he needed her. How badly he wanted to touch her. He pulled the shirt over her head, revealing her beautiful body to him, and laid her gently on the bed. He devoured her with another kiss, his hand on one perfect breast, his beard scraping the lower half of her face pink. Over the last while, the sight of that flush of pink had started to become intensely erotic to him. Now he wanted to see it on her pretty breasts, on her belly . . . on the insides of her thighs.

  He moved lower, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking lightly.

  She moaned, arching against his mouth as he made love to her breast, teasing the tip with his tongue as his hand teased her other nipple, making sure both peaks were hard and taut with arousal. He loved her breasts, loved how sensitive they were, and within moments, her nipples were a rosy red, one wet from his tongue, and the beard flush had scraped over the curve of her breast, turning it pink. He moved to the other breast, giving it equal attention while she panted and squirmed under him, her hands in his hair.

  “Caleb,” she begged. “Oh, that feels so good, Caleb. Your mouth . . .”

  He flicked his tongue over her nipple. “Do you like it?”

  “God, yes.”

  “Good.” He gave her breast one final nip and then moved lower, scraping his beard along the gentle swell of her belly, until she was undulating under him, little whimpers escaping her throat. He pushed her thighs apart, and she was hot and wet and so, so ready for him. He loved how wet she got, how slick her folds became when he touched her. It made him feel like a fucking king. He dragged his tongue up and down her sweet pussy, tasting her, before settling in against her clit and beginning the steady teasing that she loved so much. She always seemed surprised when he went down on her, as if he was giving her a gift instead of the other way around. He loved the taste of her, but even more than that, he loved her reactions. It was worth everything to feel her thighs flex against his ears, to feel her body quiver as she came. He held tight to her hips, his mouth on her clit as he flicked and teased, and she bucked against his mouth, gasping his name.

  Caleb was going to stay there, too, until she came. But she reached for him, brushing her fingers against his face as he nuzzled her folds. “I want you inside me, Caleb. Please. I want to come with you inside me.”

  That was a plea he couldn’t refuse. With another kiss to her sweetness, he lifted his head. “I’ll get a condom.”

  The birth control had been in her bathroom, in a cabinet, but since he’d started staying over, they’d moved it to her bedside drawer. He found the strip, tore one off with movements that were more confident and more practiced by the day, and rolled it on quickly. Every moment that he wasn’t touching her was a wasted moment, and he wanted to touch her again, to feel her skin against his. He moved back to her and kissed her once more, hot and conquering. With his tongue, he stroked deep into the well of her mouth in a silent promise. This is mine, he silently told her.

  She met him with her tongue, the kiss deep and slick, and he moved over her, settling his hips against hers. Amy’s thighs were wide, and when he pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, he felt her quiver with n
eed.

  He sank into her, burying himself to the hilt, even as he kissed her.

  This is mine, he repeated silently as he began to stroke. This is mine. This is mine. You’re mine. He silently chanted it over and over again as he thrust into her, working her body to a fever pitch. It rang in his head as her nails dug into his skin and she began to arch, her movements erratic as her orgasm built. It reverberated through every cell of his body as she came, her walls squeezing him so hard that his own release roared through him, and he came, pumping into her with firm, fierce strokes.

  Amy was his, now and forever. It didn’t matter if she was in an apartment, or if she was a teacher, or anything else. All he’d ever wanted was her, her smiles, her laughter, her happiness. As long as he had that, nothing else mattered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Amy curled up against Caleb, wriggling at the feel of his cock still buried inside her. They’d made love three times in a row, pausing between frantic rounds to catch their breath, only to get another burst of need and tackle each other. She was sweaty, her hair a mess, and she’d never been so happy. His big body spooned hers from behind, his hand on her breast, his breath on her neck.

  “Merry Christmas Eve,” he mumbled as she twitched against him.

  For some reason, that struck her as absurdly funny, and she giggled. “Merry Christmas Eve to you, too. Is it officially Christmas Eve? I don’t think the sun has gone down yet.” They’d spent all morning in bed, and possibly part of the afternoon.

  So far, this was turning into her favorite day ever.

  She felt him shrug. “Time doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.” He pressed a kiss to her neck, then her shoulder. “Your present is in my car. Should I go get it?”

  A little flutter sparked in her belly. “You brought my present?”

  “Yeah. I figured I’d give it to you anyhow, even if you and I didn’t work out.” He kissed her shoulder again. “Gotta say, I’m glad we did, though.”

  She was, too. “Yours are under the tree.” They’d been just another thing she’d cried over last night, along with his shirt, his favorite mug, and the scent of him on her pillow. It had been a really teary night. It had felt wrong to push him away, but she hadn’t trusted herself.

  Talking to Caleb had made it all come into perspective. He didn’t want to own her. He just wanted to be with her. That was the difference, wasn’t it? It had been Blake who’d constantly made her feel like she wasn’t good enough. Blake who had wanted to know where she was at all times, what she was doing, what she was spending. Caleb just wanted her to smile.

  She relaxed, snuggling down against him. “But we have to get out of bed to get the presents.”

  He nipped at her shoulder with his teeth, sending a ripple of pleasure through her body and making her acutely aware of his cock still deep inside her. “I guess I’ll sacrifice myself and get dressed. I should toss this condom, anyhow. You stay there.”

  She let out a little sigh when he moved away from her, his body leaving hers. It was immediately cold in the bedroom without his warmth, and so she pulled the sex-scented blankets around her like a cocoon. “Check on Donner, too, will you? Make sure he’s not in a peanut-butter coma?” The jar had been nearly empty when she’d given it to him. She’d almost tossed it last night, and then had kept it to keep him distracted. He did love peanut butter so much. He got it all over his gray muzzle and it was the cutest thing.

  Smiling, she turned in bed and watched Caleb as he emerged from the bathroom, cleaned himself up, and pulled on his jeans and boots. “Be right back,” he promised, kissing her before leaving the bedroom.

  She closed her eyes and snuggled under the blankets, wondering how many condoms they had left. She wanted to lie in Caleb’s arms all day, but she knew they’d been steadily working through her supply. Maybe she’d call the doctor when she got paid again, get on the pill. She could take control of that situation, she decided, and it was an idea she liked. She wondered what it would feel like to have sex with Caleb without the condom, and daydreamed about that for a brief moment.

  The doorbell rang.

  That was weird. Amy sat up in bed, frowning. Why would Caleb ring her doorbell if he was going outside . . .

  She gasped, surging out of bed. Oh no. Oh god, no. She knew who that was. She knew who would ring her doorbell today.

  Blake. Fucking Blake.

  Amy dragged her shirt on—well, Caleb’s shirt—and finger-combed her hair. She dragged her robe over her body, but the tie was nowhere to be seen. Shit. She wrapped the robe tight around her waist and then, holding it closed, left the bedroom.

  Caleb stood at the front door, and she saw Blake was facing off against him on the other side of the threshold. Both were scowling at one another, and she saw Blake was wearing another tailored suit . . . while Caleb wasn’t even wearing a shirt. His tanned chest and tousled hair made it obvious what they were doing.

  She ran a hand through her hair again and tried to find her courage. “Go away, Blake.” God, did her voice have to choose that moment to squeak?

  “I told you I would be back, Amy,” Blake said in his most patient and dismissive voice. “You were going to pack your things so we could leave, remember?” His lip curled as he studied Caleb. “Clearly there was a misunderstanding.”

  Caleb looked over at her, and she mentally cringed. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me.

  But his eyes were calm as he gazed at her. “You want to handle this, baby, or do you want me to?”

  It felt like all the breath she’d been holding suddenly left her.

  He was going to let her figure this out. Let her choose. For some reason, she smiled. Amy felt stronger. Prouder. She stood a little taller as she hugged her robe closed, and surprisingly, she didn’t feel a bit of shame—not anymore—at her ex-husband catching them undressed. “I’ve got it. Thank you, Caleb.” She turned to Blake, taking a few steps forward until she stood in front of the door—and in front of her lover. She faced down her controlling ex-husband with a calm expression, even though her heart was pounding. “There’s no misunderstanding. I never said I would go anywhere with you. You said that. I never agreed.”

  His jaw tensed, like it always did when he was about to snap. It used to fill her with terror, knowing that she was going to get an earful of berating. “You’re being irrational, Amy,” he warned.

  “I’m not,” Amy said, and her voice was stronger this time. “You’re the one that’s not grasping the fact that we got divorced. I have court documents that say we’re done, Blake. I left the state to get away from you. What part of this can’t you seem to understand?”

  “You don’t know what you want,” he said, dismissive. His gaze flicked to Caleb and his lip curled, but she noticed he made no move to come into the house.

  Good. “I do know what I want, Blake. It’s not you. Go away.”

  “Amy, be reasonable.”

  She thought she was being perfectly reasonable; she really was. “I don’t want you in my life, Blake. I thought that the divorce made that pretty obvious.”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  The tone of his voice changed, going from dismissive to persuasive. “Please, Amy. I . . . miss you. I want you back. I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you were gone.”

  Once upon a time, she would have melted over this. Felt like she was making the right decision to stay at his side, even knowing there would be more inevitable negative comments, more backhanded attacks that would make her hate herself. Now that she was gone, though, she didn’t miss him at all. She was able to see how he’d worked her to get what he wanted. He’d say anything in the moment, as long as it got him results. The words meant nothing to him.

  She was never going back. “You can’t miss me, because you never had me, Blake. You just want a puppet
to dance to your little games. I’m not doing that anymore.” Amy straightened, tall and proud, and gestured at his sports car. “Also, if you can afford to rent that, you can afford to pay me alimony. I’m talking to a lawyer in the New Year, so be ready for that. I want the money I’m owed, and I’m staying here. We’re done. There is no ‘us’ anymore. We’re divorced. I have a life, and you need to get one.”

  Caleb huffed a quiet sound of approval, his hand going to the small of her back in silent support.

  The support made Amy happy. Even so, what made her happier was that she realized she didn’t need his touch to be strong and brave. Just having him at her side, reassuring her with his quiet presence that he had her back, had given her the courage she needed to stand up to her asshole ex. It was like Caleb had said—they were better together. They were stronger together, as partners in life instead of one leading and the other following.

  Funny how things all made sense with a bit of perspective.

  “This is your last chance,” Blake said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not going to ask again, Amy. You should be thrilled I’m even here to try and rescue you.”

  Rescue her? From what? Freedom? Independence? A man that loved her and a job that made her happy? “This is your last chance,” she retorted. “If you don’t get off my porch, I’m going to call the sheriff and file a restraining order on you. I’m sure that’ll look great in front of the judge when I file against you for unpaid alimony. You’re going to look like a crazy stalker who can’t take no for an answer.” She made her expression pitying, just because she knew that would drive him crazy. “It’s not a good look for you, Blake.”

  Blake’s jaw clenched. “Last chance . . .”

  How many times did she have to say no? Jesus.

  Caleb cleared his throat and put his hand on her shoulder. “Have you said what you need to, baby?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I have. Just shut the door and let’s go back to bed.” She tossed that in deliberately.