The Maverick Fakes a Bride!

by Christine Rimmer

  Now he was the one sucking in a sharp breath. “Brenna.” He found her nipple under the lace and teased it a little.

  Her hungry little gasp sent a bolt of hot desire shooting through him.

  All these years and years he’d known her. Never had he dared to believe they would ever get here. In a big bed, just the two of them, with only a few scraps of fabric between them. He had never let himself even think about making love to her—well, not until lately. And now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  She amazed him, always had. And even more since he’d spent the past four and a half weeks with her. Not only was she the prettiest girl in Montana, she had imagination and resourcefulness, a great sense of humor, and the willingness to stay the course no matter how tough the task.

  And she was kind. Generous, too.

  “What are you thinking, Travis?” Her eyes shone up at him through the darkness.

  “Good things.”

  “About?”

  “You.” He dipped his thumb under the lacy cup that covered her breast, tugging it down, freeing her softness to his waiting hand. “So beautiful.” He lowered his head and captured her nipple, rolling it on his tongue, giving it a little nip with his teeth.

  “Travis!” she gasped.

  “Um?”

  And she sighed. “Do that some more.”

  He pulled the sheet up and over their heads.

  She laughed then, muffling the sound by pressing her face against his chest. “I feel like a naughty kid in a fort of blankets.”

  He kissed her hair, her cheek, the silky skin of her throat. “Works for me.”

  She stroked a hand, fingers spread, down his chest to his belly. And lower. He had to hold back a groan as she touched him through his boxer briefs. He was rock hard already, and they’d hardly begun.

  “Let’s take off the rest,” she whispered in his ear.

  “You’re on.” He let his fingers wander over the smooth flesh that covered her rib cage, all the way to her back and the clasp of her bra. A flick of his fingers and he had it unhooked.

  She made a sweet, humming sound and did the rest, slipping the straps down her arms, pulling it off, lifting the blanket on her side just enough to drop it to the rug.

  He slipped his fingers under the elastic of her panties. “Let me.”

  “Oh, yes!”

  “Lift up.” And she lifted. He took those panties off and away.

  “Now these,” she commanded, her cool, clever fingers on the waistband of his boxer briefs. He didn’t argue. She eased the elastic over his erection. He took it from there, whipping them down and off, sticking his arm out from under the covers to toss them away.

  And that was it. They were completely naked under the covers. Clasping the sleek curve of her shoulder, he pulled her into him. They lay on their sides, face-to-face.

  She offered up her mouth, and he took it in one of those kisses that sent him straight to paradise. He dipped his tongue in and caressed all the wet, slick surfaces beyond her parted lips.

  As he kissed her, he let his hands wander to the places he’d never dared to go before—the bare curve of her waist, the firm slope of her hip, the round, high globes of her gorgeous bottom, the strong, smooth length of her thigh.

  No, he couldn’t see her, not clearly. She was a sweet, soft shadow in this secret cave beneath the blankets with him. He wished he might feast his eyes on the sight of her.

  But in the end, it didn’t really matter.

  He saw her in a deeper way. She was burned into his brain and branded on his heart.

  And what he couldn’t worship with his eyes right now, he would memorize forever by touching her everywhere. He cradled her breasts, kissing one and then the other. They fit his hands just right, her nipples tight and hard, pressing so perfectly into the center of his palm.

  She whispered his name as he stuck out his tongue to taste the valley of sweet flesh between her breasts. He followed that valley down, rolling her to her back so he could rise over her and trail his hungry lips down into the hollow of her waist.

  He dipped his tongue in her navel, nipped the softness just below it. She quivered beneath him, reaching for him, weaving her fingers into his hair, murmuring breathless encouragements as he kissed his way lower still.

  Sliding a hand down the top of her thigh, dipping it under to hook the back of her knee, he eased her leg up so that he could slip under it, coming up in the place he most longed to be.

  He kissed her, a rain of kisses, really. He scattered them across her belly and downward. She moaned when he nuzzled her, parting her, blowing out a slow breath on her wet, waiting core.

  She smelled of flowers, of honey. She tasted so sweet, musky and womanly. He gave himself up to the taste and the feel of her, using his hungry mouth and his fingers, too, driving her higher, until she was whimpering, tugging at his shoulders, trying to pull him up into her arms.

  Not yet...

  He kept kissing her, caressing her, dipping one finger and then two into her wet heat, stroking her.

  He knew the moment she couldn’t hold out against him any longer. He felt her go over, and he smiled against her secret flesh as her climax rolled through her. She called out his name and he had to reach up, cover her mouth with his hand to help her hold back her breathless, excited cries.

  Not until she finally went loose and boneless, the pulsing of her climax fading to a flutter, did he sweep up her body to press his lips to hers.

  She grabbed for him, her fingers digging into his shoulders at first, a long sigh escaping her. And then she wrapped her arms so tight around him, kissing him back with sweet heat and hungry tenderness. Those eager hands of hers strayed down over his back, grabbing on tight and yanking him hard and close.

  Now he was the one moaning, as her knowing fingers slipped between them and wrapped around the aching length of him, tight and demanding, just the way he liked it. She stroked him, long, strong strokes, running her thumb up over the flare, rubbing the head, until he was sure he would lose it right then and there.

  But somehow, he held back, kept himself hovering just on the brink for an eternity of pleasure as she kissed him and played him with her sweet, clutching hand.

  “You make me crazy.” She breathed the words against his open mouth.

  A laugh that was more like a groan escaped him. “I make you crazy? I might have a heart attack right here and now.”

  “It’s not any more than what you just did to me.”

  “You’re killing me.” The whispered words came out of him sounding like a plea.

  Her naughty hand moved up, over, down. “I want you to feel me, Trav. Every stroke, every kiss.”

  “I do, I swear to you. Bren, you know I do.”

  “I want you to remember this, remember us.”

  “I could never forget.”

  “I want...everything, Travis. For as long as this crazy ride lasts. I want all there is. With you.”

  “Yes.” He really had no idea what he was agreeing to. Only that somehow, he had to make her understand that she was something special, that there was no one like her. “You have it. You...always did. You have to know that’s true.”

  “Oh, Travis...” And she kissed him, another endless, seeking kiss as she continued to stroke him fast and hard and so, so good.

  “I can’t—We have to—Right now,” he babbled low against her parted lips.

  How she understood his meaning, he would never know. But she did. “The drawer!” she cried in a torn little whisper. She loosened her grip on him enough that he could lift up and reach out from under their tent of blankets.

  He got hold of the drawer pull and gave it a tug. Then he dipped his hand in and took out a condom. He had no idea what kind it was. Ribbed, flavored, purple, bright gree
n? He felt around the rim—no weird spikes or anything.

  “Got it?” she panted, her whisper sweet and urgent.

  “Yeah.” He retreated back under the blankets again.

  “Oh, please let me,” she begged, eager and earnest and downright adorable. He gave her the pouch. “Roll over,” she commanded, suddenly bossy.

  Grinning, though he ached with the need to have her immediately, he stretched out on his back. A moment later, she held him steady as she rolled the condom down over him, snugging it in at the base with great care.

  And then, before he could grab her and roll her under him, she hitched a leg over him, taking him firmly in hand and guiding him to the brink of her sweet, waiting heat.

  He groaned way too loud. How could he help it?

  “Shh.” She sat up tall on him, bending only enough to press a finger against his lips. “We’re being quiet, remember?”

  He answered with a tortured sound. It was the best he could do as she slowly took him into her.

  Slowly, so very slowly, she came down on him. He reached for her, taking her hips between his two hands, steadying both of them as her body accepted him.

  It was glorious. She was glorious, so wet and hot and tight—and so giving, too.

  Always, he thought.

  Always and forever. The words got stuck in his mind, echoing softly. He wasn’t sure why. But they seemed like the right words.

  Yeah, he’d been with way too many women. But there was only one Brenna. Her body felt just right to him, thrilling and perfect and also familiar. Like he’d been lost for the longest time and finally sighted the lights of home.

  Found. He was found. Finally, with her.

  She surrounded him, claiming him, until he couldn’t take the wonderful agony of it. With a final sharp tug, he pulled her all the way down.

  “Oh!” And then she let out a long sigh. “Oh, yes...” For a moment, neither of them moved a muscle. They absorbed the reality—that she held him within her.

  All the way in.

  And then, with a soft moan of surrender, she curved her body over him. Her sweet-scented hair fell along his shoulder, a big swatch of it slipping, like a whisper of silk, down the side of his neck.

  Her tender breasts felt so good against the hard wall of his chest. He reached up and wrapped his hand around her nape, guiding her mouth down to meet his in a wet, open kiss.

  And then they were moving, rocking together, urgent and hungry, then slow, deep and hard. But the kiss never broke. They kept their mouths fused together. She breathed in his yearning sighs, and he swallowed her moans.

  He rolled so he had the top position and then rolled again. Now they lay on their sides.

  She was all around him, scent and sweetness, spice and heat. He hadn’t known, had never realized that sex could be like this. So true and simple, so deep and tender and right. She’d probably gone and ruined him for any other woman.

  Well, so what?

  He was finally ready and willing to be ruined. He could lie here with her, buried in blankets, rolling and rocking, straight through to the day after the end of forever.

  Too bad this rough, hot magic couldn’t last. He felt the end coming. There was no way to stop it.

  He rolled again, striving to hold the last shreds of his control. She was under him, her mouth fused to his, her hands clutching his back, rocking him to paradise.

  And then he felt her go over. He drank in her keening cry as her body pulsed around him.

  That did it. His climax roared through him, mowing him down, dragging him under.

  He let out a shout.

  “Shh, Trav. Shh...” Her hand was there, covering his mouth. He chanted her name against her palm as the world turned inside out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Some idiot knocked on the suite’s door at five the next morning.

  Travis put his arm across his eyes and willed whoever it was to go away.

  The knock came again.

  He rolled to his side and kissed Brenna’s bare shoulder. “Somebody’s at the door.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I’ll get it.” He started to slide over the side of the bed.

  But her hand shot out and closed on his wrist. “Get back here.”

  He put up zero resistance. She gave a tug and he rolled back to her, wrapping his other arm around her, drawing her close. She felt like paradise and she smelled of apples and sex. He wanted to spend the whole day in bed with her. But they had a million bucks to win. Resignedly, he whispered, “It’s Gerry. You know that, right?”

  “Ugh.” She tucked her head under his chin and wiggled a little, burrowing in.

  He pressed a kiss into the wild tangle of her hair. “Gerry’s not giving up.”

  She made more grumbly sounds and snuggled even closer.

  The next knock was louder.

  She bit his chest. Lightly. “Suddenly, I hate Gerry.” With a sulky little moan, she pushed him away. “Go. Answer it.”

  He slid over to the edge of the bed again, sticking his head out from under the covers, spotting his jeans right there on the rug. Scooping them up, he dragged them under the sheet with him and pulled them on.

  The knocking started up again.

  “Hold on! I’m coming.” He rose to his feet. “Stay there. I’ll see if I can get rid of him.”

  “Ha. There is no getting rid of Gerry.” She flipped the blankets over her head.

  He laughed and shut the bedroom door behind him before answering the insistent knock. “Gerry. What a surprise.” For once, the guy didn’t have a camera crew with him. But there was a wrangler and a woman with a food trolley.

  “Rise and shine.” Gerry handed Travis a pile of clothes as the wrangler stepped forward and set both his boots and Brenna’s inside the door. “We couldn’t get the paint out of Brenna’s shirt and jeans. Tell her she can trade them for something from her suitcase.”

  “Will do.” Travis stepped aside so the woman could wheel in the trolley bearing a coffee service and two covered plates.

  Gerry glanced at his watch. “In forty-nine minutes you both need to be fed, dressed and ready to go.”

  “All right.”

  “Requests? Complaints?”

  He almost smiled as he remembered the night before. “Not a one.”

  “Well, all right then. See you at six.” With a wave, Gerry, the wrangler and the girl from hospitality services headed off down the hall.

  The bedroom door opened and there was Brenna in a terry-cloth robe with High Lonesome embroidered above the tempting curve of her left breast. “I smell coffee.”

  “Come and get it.”

  But she didn’t. She just stood there in that white robe, her red hair sleep tangled on her shoulders, her cheeks pink with beard burn and her eyes full of promises he aimed to make her keep.

  “Trav...”

  “C’mere.”

  She ran to him. He wrapped his arms around her. She pressed those soft lips to the side of his throat and whispered, “All those condoms in that drawer?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You need to figure out a way we can take them back to camp with us when we go.”

  * * *

  Brenna spent the ride back to the canteen trying not to look at Travis. She knew if she met his eyes, she would lose it, just burst out laughing. Partly from happiness. Because last night was the best night of her life.

  But also because every pocket they had between them was stuffed with condoms. As were their boots and their underwear.

  Gerry stopped the van near the canteen. “Report to Roger inside,” he said.

  “Sure will,” replied Travis as he pushed his door open. “Thanks, Gerry.”

  “My pleasure. Toodle
-oo.”

  Brenna slid across and followed Travis out. Taking their sweet time about it, they started for the entrance to the canteen, switching course as soon as Gerry drove off.

  Laughing, they took off running for the tent village, where the others were finishing up breakfast. Steve called out a greeting. Roberta, sitting with him beside the campfire, signaled them over.

  “Be right there!” Brenna called and ducked into their tent behind Travis.

  Chortling like a couple of complete fools, they emptied their pockets, undid their clothes and pulled off their boots to shake out the contents. Then they scrambled to put it all out of sight.

  Brenna smoothed her hair and checked to see that she had everything buttoned. Then she followed Travis out of the tent. She got welcome-back hugs from Roberta and Steve, and then she and Travis raced back to the canteen to report in to Roger.

  That day she got paired with Wally on another series of short challenges. It all went off reasonably well.

  But the best part was that night. She and Trav zipped their sleeping bags together and made love until midnight. She got to fall asleep in his arms and wake up with him spooning her.

  The next day, the judges named a winner and a loser of the four days of random challenges. Steve got his immunity bracelet. Fred Franklin went to the lodge.

  And Brenna got another beautiful night in Trav’s arms.

  Sunday, they started a two-day challenge. They lost Wally on Monday. And then they were six.

  Tuesday, the Fourth of July, they gathered at the canteen bright and early to learn there would be no challenges that day in honor of the holiday. “Instead,” Jasper announced, “each of you remaining contestants will have a visitor from home.” On cue, a white van drove up. Travis’s cousin Eli Dalton stepped out. And then Fallon.

  With a happy cry, Brenna ran to meet her sister.

  Fallon’s arms went around her. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Brenna hugged her tight. “I can’t believe you’re here.” Then she whispered a warning, “Anything you say could end up on the show.”

  Her sister laughed. “I kind of thought so when they put this microphone in my hair—Oh, and I couldn’t help but notice there are cameramen everywhere.” She waved a hand in the direction of the cameras trained on them.