by Caro Carson
The slide of her tongue was firm and perfect. It satisfied him deep inside, a moment of relief because that hunger had been answered. Ah, finally, a kiss. But then the hunger demanded more.
He wanted to know the shape of her, so he let his hands slide and explore. Her body was softer than it looked when she saluted the sun in those God-blessed yoga clothes. Her muscles were relaxed, languid. He shifted their embrace from one of comfort to one of desire. Her hips pressed against his hardness, a moment of bliss—but then he needed more.
Her hands tugged his hair harder than he’d expected. It was just what he wanted, just what he needed—for a moment. Then greed built like a fire, consuming them both. She rose up on her toes to get closer to him, so he cupped her backside and held her tightly in place.
Not tightly enough. She could still move, and she did, sliding up another inch along his hard body, straining for more as they stood on the porch, reaching for something clothing made impossible.
“I’m gonna lose my mind if you do that again.” He was warning her, or he was begging her.
“I know. I know.” Her words were panted out, raw with need, no purr, no seduction, nothing deliberate.
Still a sex goddess. More of a sex goddess.
She couldn’t go higher on her toes, but she tried, hands in his hair, flexing her arms, seeking him. If they were only horizontal, she could slide up his body, and it would all work perfectly. They’d fit together, they’d find the release that was desperately needed now, right now, if only they were horizontal—
“Please.” She panted the word against his mouth, and he knew exactly what the rest of the desperate plea was. Please fix this. Please finish this. Please give me what I need.
He kept one hand buried in her hair, cupping the back of her head, and watched her intently as he opened the door, waiting to see if that was what she really wanted.
It was; she told him what he needed to hear. “Yes.”
She knew what she wanted, and she took the first step, bringing him with her, like a dancer leading with an arm around his waist. Two steps brought them inside, and he slammed the door.
Clothes were coming off. His hands slid under the loose green top to the black spandex underneath, the kind of sports bra that never came off easily, damn it, until he felt the hooks in back, thank God. She made short work of his belt with her sure hands while he unfastened her hooks. Her soft breasts spilled free. He filled his hand with one breast, a moment entirely of touch because he could not see her beneath the green top. Not yet.
He kissed her breast through the shirt. In response, she gasped and her hands on his fly shivered to a stop. She was his. She was perfect. This was all he wanted. Then the hunger roared again, and it wasn’t enough.
He scooped her top up and over her head. She was so beautifully cooperative, raising her arms so he could draw the shirt completely off, shaking her wrist for him when the bra stuck there.
Together, they tossed away the barriers. She kicked off her sneakers and went to work on the button of his jeans. He dragged his shirt over his head while trying not to lose sight of her bare breasts, as beautiful as the rest of her, with one tiny, dark freckle on the curve of her left breast, just off center of her cleavage, a sexy imperfection he wanted to savor.
She unzipped his fly and slid her hands beneath the waistband to push his jeans to the floor.
Now she hesitated, but the look on her face was one of desire, not fear. After a pause to enjoy the anticipation, she closed the space between them and pressed her nude body against his.
Yes. Yes and absolutely yes, it felt absolutely right when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. He lifted her higher, holding her thighs in his hands as she cried an inarticulate sound that meant yes, this was what she’d begged him for. They needed to get horizontal soon, needed to find a bed or a couch or hell, the floor would work—
But all Sophia did was take a breath, and it was enough to align their bodies at just the right angle, with just the right amount of pressure, and he was sheathed inside her.
He rocked backward, leaning against whatever piece of furniture was behind him, completely undone at the sensation. Nothing had ever felt so good, nothing in his life. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Sophia was hot and wet and all around him. All his.
Hot and wet, so wet...
He wasn’t wearing any protection.
Her breath was in his ear. He rained kisses down her neck. “The pill,” he managed to say. “Tell me you’re on the pill.”
“No. Don’t you have a condom?”
He shook his head sharply. It wasn’t something a man needed to carry to work on the open range, damn it all to hell.
“Just—wait—don’t—” He steeled himself—the coming sensation was going to be climax-worthy, but he couldn’t, not without protection—then he cupped her bottom and slid her up and off his body. He was sweating from the effort to keep control, a desperate man. “Do you have a condom? In your suitcase? Anywhere?”
“No. I swore off men. Forever.” She unwrapped her legs from his waist but stood on her toes before him, arms still around his neck, their bodies still pressed tightly together. “I didn’t know there would be you. I never thought there could be you.”
She kissed him again, loving his mouth the way their bodies wanted to be loving. He kissed her the way he couldn’t have her, although God knew they were both willing.
Still, knowing she wanted him eased something in his chest, and her skin felt glorious against his skin, so when she ended the kiss, Travis found that he could smile, even tease her. “So when you said this wasn’t going anywhere...”
She gasped-laughed and smacked his chest, but she was quick with the comeback. “You said we had one moment. It sounded kind of romantic at the time, but...” She made a little shoo motion with her hand. “There it was. Hope you enjoyed it.”
“Oh, hell no. We’re having another moment.” There were a hundred ways to please a woman, and he was more than willing to try them all with Sophia.
He pushed her just a foot away, so he could finish stepping out of boots and jeans. She watched, then she touched, one finger trailing down his arm, then one finger trailing up the hard length of him.
He cursed softly, and she laughed, because she knew exactly what he meant by that curse.
She bit her lower lip. “The MacDowells lived here, right? Three guys. Don’t you think they might have left something behind in a nightstand from their college days?”
Travis kicked the jeans out of his way and they held hands, jogging naked together through the house to the bedroom hallway. From one room to the next, he took the nightstand on the left side of each bed, she the right, but their search turned up nothing.
“They would’ve probably been expired, anyway,” she said, hands on her hips, wrinkling her nose in disappointment while she talked to him, as if it were perfectly natural to chat with him in the nude. “Aren’t you guys the same age?”
“Give or take a few years. I’m thirty-one, so yeah, we’re looking for ten-year-old condoms.”
They laughed at themselves, but the sound of an ATV brought them both to the window to steal a peek, side by side.
“The greenhorn’s back from the cedar burn.”
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now I hope he doesn’t notice Samson’s out in the paddock, so I won’t have to explain where I’ve been later.” Travis ran his hand lightly down her back, marveling again at the dip of her lower back and the curve of her thigh. “Much later, because I’m not leaving now. We’ve got some creative moments in the immediate future.”
She kissed his cheek, such an absurdly innocent move. “You still smell like smoke.”
“Had I known the best moment of my life was going to happen today, I would
have showered before stopping by to throw tomatoes. And I would have brought a damned condom. Spontaneity isn’t my strong suit.”
She touched him, fingertips smoothing their way from his smoky hair down his chest. “You could take a shower here, and I could try to figure out just what your strong suit is.”
“Is that shower big enough for two?”
“Let’s find out.”
Shampoo and slippery soap led to more laughter. Hands made discoveries, laughter faded into something more intense. Bodies were finally, shatteringly satisfied. As far as spontaneous moments went, although they’d been caught unprepared for basic necessities, Travis could have no complaints.
When he was dressed once more and walking the familiar path to his house, it wasn’t the sex that occupied his thoughts; it was the moment that had come afterward. Under the steady, soothing stream of the shower, he’d cradled her against his body for a long, long time. Neither one of them had wanted to move. The water had run down their skin, and the silence between them had been as powerful as everything that had come before.
He was in love with her.
It could go nowhere. It was a fluke they’d found themselves on the same ranch. She was leaving, had been destined to leave since before she’d arrived.
They’d had their moment.
As he walked into his empty house, he already knew it would never be enough.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m getting married!”
Sophia smiled at her sister’s excitement as she pulled groceries out of a brown paper bag. Eggs, flour, real sugar. Sophia had so much time on her hands and such a plethora of Mrs. MacDowell’s old cookbooks, she’d decided to try her hand at baking a few things to supplement her frozen dinners. Besides, she could sneak the results of her successful attempts into the barn after dark. Not for the horses, but for Travis, her secret lover for the past two nights.
And tonight. She would definitely find him again tonight after sunset.
With a little thrill inside that she hoped wasn’t obvious, she scooped up the five-pound bags of flour and sugar and headed for the pantry, laughing at her excited bride of a sister. “Yes, I know you’re getting married. September twenty-fourth. It will be here before you know it.”
“No, I’m getting married in five days, and you’re going to be my maid of honor.”
Sophia stopped in the middle of the kitchen. “What?”
“Somebody had a big party planned at the place we booked for September, and they canceled it. It’s Fourth of July weekend, which might not sound so romantic, but I think it will be special. The rooftop patio overlooks Sixth Street. You can see the Capitol all lit up for the night, and the city will have fireworks going off all around us.”
“But that’s less than a week away. A wedding in a week?” Sophia held the ten pounds of flour and sugar steadily as she stared at Grace. “Is that even possible?”
“The florist said she could do it. The corporation that canceled their party had already booked a bartender and music, so we’re just scooping up the people they had reserved. Kendry and Jamie weren’t going out of town for the holiday, anyway, so I have my bridesmaid and Alex has his best man. If you’re in the wedding, then Alex wants to ask his friend Kent to be a groomsman, so we’ll have two girls, two guys. Please say yes. It’s perfect.”
Alex came in the kitchen door. “I found Travis.”
And then Travis was right there, hanging his hat on the hook, and Sophia wasn’t sure how to act.
Travis had left her bed at dawn in order to get to the barn before his men, or so he hoped. She wondered if he’d made it there first. If he hadn’t, then she wondered how he’d explained arriving from the direction of the MacDowells’ house and not from his own. Had anyone arrived early from the bunkhouse?
She couldn’t tell from Travis’s face whether that had happened or not. He stood near the door with his usual impassive cowboy demeanor, but Sophia knew what he looked like when he laughed. She also knew what he looked like when he was at his most primitive, head thrown back, muscles straining, powerless to stop the climax she’d brought him to.
The flour slipped from her arm. She hitched it back up.
Alex looked like a very pleased Clark Kent. “So Grace told you the big news?”
“Just a second ago. I hardly know what to think.”
Alex explained to Travis. “We’re getting married this weekend.”
“Congratulations.” Travis stole a look at Sophia. He knew about September. She’d been throwing tomatoes, wishing her sister needed her in September. She hadn’t wanted her sister to need her this badly, though. Not badly enough to ruin her own wedding.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Sophia asked Grace. “There was nothing wrong with September. I’m afraid you’re not going to have the wedding you want if you try to cram this in on short notice. What about your cake? What about your dress?”
“There was something definitely wrong with September. You weren’t going to be there. You were so nice about it, but when I drove away, I didn’t even make it halfway to Austin before I started crying.”
“You seemed so happy when you left.”
“Well, a hard conversation was over. You’d been so generous about it all, but I realized that I was settling for something I didn’t want. I want you in my wedding. I started feeling kind of sorry for myself, that because of the paparazzi and all the pressure you’re always under, I wouldn’t get my wedding the way I want it. The bride is supposed to get what she wants, right? Well, this bride wants her sister. I sat down and called all the venues on our list one more time. It was my bridezilla moment.”
Sophia couldn’t help but laugh at Grace’s pride in her supposed diva fit. “That’s the sweetest bridezilla moment I’ve ever heard of.”
“Seriously, Sophie, it’s going to be one of the biggest days of my life, and I need you there. I just can’t imagine getting married without my sister as my maid of honor.”
“Oh, Grace.” The tears were instant, blurring her vision. The sugar slipped from her arm, but somehow Travis caught it before it made a spectacular five-pound splatter on the tile. She smiled up at him through her tears. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He took the flour from her.
Sophia wasn’t sure why Alex had invited Travis in for this little family moment, but she was glad he was here. He’d been there for her when she was upset that her sister didn’t seem to need her, so it seemed right that he got to share this happy moment, too.
Now that Travis had freed Sophia’s arms, she could hug Grace, precious Grace, the sister who still needed her. “I can’t believe you’re doing all of this just so I can be in your wedding. Thank you.” She turned to Alex. “And thank you. You’re okay with this?”
The way his expression softened when he looked at her sister made Sophia feel mushy inside.
“I wanted to marry her yesterday,” he said. “I wanted to marry her the day before that, and the day before that. I’m very okay with this weekend instead of waiting for September. Very.”
Sophia squeezed Grace’s hands. “So you’re doing this. What can I do? What about your dress? Do you want me to call in some favors? You look so good in Vuitton. I could ask them to overnight me some samples in white. I’ll tell them it’s for a big event. That’s the truth, too. I’m sure we’ll be photographed enough to make it worth their while.”
Grace squeezed Sophia’s hands in return. “I already had Mom’s wedding gown taken out of storage and shipped here last month. It just needs cleaned and fluffed. The dress shop is going to detach the old crinoline and I’m going to wear a new one underneath, but they have that kind of thing in stock. It’s not a problem at all.”
“You’re wearing Mom’s wedding dress?”
Grace bit her lip. “I should h
ave asked you. The crinoline is a minor alteration, I promise.”
“You don’t need my permission. I’m not your boss. It’s as much your dress as mine.”
“Yes, but is it okay with you?”
“You’re going to be such a beautiful bride, you’re going to make me cry, anyway, but this is really going to be unfair. I’m going to look like a blubbering mess in all your photos.”
Because being with her sister felt like her old life, Sophia started brainstorming their usual plans. “We’ll have to fly Tameka in to give me bulletproof makeup. If my nose turns red, I’ll be in all the gossip rags as a coke addict or something. That’s just what we need when I’m trying to let the controversy die down. We can fly in Jolin with Tameka. She does such great hair.”
“No.” Because this was not their old life, Grace interrupted. “I’ve already got a hairstylist here. Austin isn’t exactly a backwater. My stylist is really good. The only person we’re flying in from LA is you.”
“Me?”
“It will look that way. We’re going to sneak you off this ranch and fly you to the Dallas airport. You’ll get a nice first-class seat from Dallas back to Austin. Everyone will text their friends that you’re on their plane, and when you land here, the paparazzi will assume you flew in for the wedding. You, me and Kendry are going to set up base in a hotel suite, so that Alex doesn’t see us before the big day.”
Alex turned to Travis. “Which brings us to why I asked you to stop in. Texas Rescue, completely by coincidence, has decided to conduct a training exercise tomorrow. It involves extracting a practice patient by helicopter and transporting her to the Dallas airport’s medevac facilities. We were wondering if we might be able to use this ranch as the starting point. It looks like you’ve got plenty of room for a helicopter to land around here somewhere.”
As Travis and Alex worked out locations and timing for her escape, Sophia stood at the counter with Grace, pretending to be absorbed by their conversation. She really just wanted to look at Travis.
