Her Forever Cowboy (Harland County Series Book 4)

by Donna Michaels

  Good thing they were not in a relationship.

  He nodded. “No worries. I understand. And I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

  “That’s sweet.” She chanced a glance at him. “It’s not your fault you have that effect on women.”

  A big smiled spread across his face and lit his gaze to spine-melting results. This time, she stumbled. Dammit. She couldn’t feel her legs. Well, she could. They were like rubber.

  “Oh really?” The smile turned deliciously wicked, stealing her already thin breath. “Do I have that effect on you?”

  “You know you do, cowboy.”

  And he did. Bastard. So, when he drew her up flush against him, she was powerless to protest.

  “And what effect would that be, darlin’?”

  She smacked him on the shoulder and stumbled backward until her legs got their bearings. “This isn’t about me. We’re talking about my daughter,” she said, drawing in a deep breath, a little relieved to see some of the playfulness leave his gaze, because, dammit, she lost control when he was fun-loving. “Amelia likes you.” She softened her tone and shrugged. “Okay, we both do, but since neither you nor I want a relationship, it’s foolish to let my daughter get attached to you when you won’t always be around.”

  The cowboy shoved a hand through his hair, and blew out a breath. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Then I hope you also know I consider you a friend.”

  His gaze snapped to hers. “You do?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, trying not to smile. “One of the few I have. Actually, you’re a good friend, Kevin Dalton. And don’t think for one minute I don’t appreciate all you did for me last week. Because I do. Very much.” Lightly cupping his chin, she lifted up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, fighting off the fierce urge to wrap around him like a pretzel again. “Thank you, for all you did for me.”

  And to me.

  Strong fingers curled around her elbows and held her immobile as he cocked his head and grinned. “Well now, darlin’, I know you can do better.”

  She fought a battle with a burgeoning laugh and lost. “Yes, I could, but that’s the problem.”

  “You and I have two very different definitions of the word problem.”

  “I bet.” She sobered and held his gaze. “Seriously, Kevin, thank you for all you did for me last week.”

  Trailing a finger down her arm then back up again, he stared at her, blue eyes smoldering to a deep, delicious cobalt. “Trust me, Shayla, I enjoyed every damn minute.”

  Between his shiver-inducing finger, low, sexy voice and brain cell-zapping presence, she could barely think past her last breath. Other than she wanted to touch him. To rewind back to last week and stall the hours so she could get her fill. Because she couldn’t have him now. And, dammit, she wanted him. Bad.

  “Come to Houston with me this weekend.”

  Oh, God. She drew in a shaky breath. “I want to, Kevin. So much.”

  “But?”

  She exhaled and shook her head while he watched and waited. “But it’s not smart. You and I both know it.”

  They stared at each other a beat, and when an imminent pounce shook through her, Shayla, being the pounce-ee, took a step back, then another, until control returned.

  “Let’s keep things simple.”

  His gaze narrowed a moment, before a smile twitched his lips. “And straightforward.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, relief melting the stiffness from her spine. “Friends?”

  He scratched the bridge of his nose and chuckled. “What the hell. Friends.” His smile reflected his ever-dependable fun-loving nature. “So, what do you say we get back to dancing?”

  For two hours, they danced and laughed, and completely ignored the fact their bodies wanted more. Much more. And she knew Kevin wanted more, too. Felt the unmistakable evidence first hand.

  Every brush, every pass, every connection only intensified the burn. Shayla was on fire, body humming, needing, thirsting for all the intimate dance moves they’d practiced in Houston.

  By the time the session was over and she drove away, she was a tingling mass of erogenous need. Waltzes and quick-steps weren’t bad, but the tangos? Murder. Pure murder on her poor, deprived body. The night air and quick drive home helped her regain enough composure to face Mrs. Masters. Her friend’s mother was sweet enough to agree to watch Amelia at the apartment so the little girl’s bedtime routine wasn’t interrupted.

  “Hello, Shayla. How was your practice?” the lovely woman greeted, beautiful as ever in jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt, not a shoulder-length hair out of place.

  How could Jordan’s mom wear white and still remain unmarked after nearly three hours with Amelia? Shayla never wore white anymore. White was just a beacon, an empty canvas waiting for stains to happen.

  She shrugged out of her coat and set it on the back of a chair. “Good, thanks. Any problems tonight?” she countered, smiling at her daughter curled up with goggy on the couch, watching one of her favorite educational cartoons, already dressed in her penguin pajamas.

  “No, not at all. She had her bath, and her snack, and now she’s winding down.”

  As if just realizing someone else had entered the room, her daughter’s attention turned to her and she smiled. “Mommy.” Pushing from the couch, Amelia waddled to her in a sleep-relaxed state.

  Shayla scooped up the tired tot and hugged her close. “Hi, honey. Did you have a good time?”

  “Ya.” Amelia nodded, big yawn taking over, then apparently tuckered out by the yawn, she set her head on Shayla’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

  Nothing in the world felt better than holding her sleeping baby girl. Nothing. It was the recharge, the reset her psyche needed to tip her world back on its axis. And one glance at her friend’s mother and she could tell the woman wholeheartedly agreed.

  “I’ll see myself out,” the smiling wannabe grandma whispered, slipping into her coat, then out of the apartment.

  Mrs. Masters wore the same longing and hopeful expression as Mrs. McCall. It was evident in the way both women cared for Amelia and stared at times. Walking into her room to place her daughter in her crib, Shayla smiled. With the virile McCall brothers so besotted with their wives, she suspected it was only a matter of time before one or both sisters became pregnant.

  Standing in front of the crib, she swayed back and forth for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of her sweet, innocent baby girl, while contemplating motherhood for her friends.

  With Jordan running for Sheriff, would the woman be allowed to be pregnant and sheriff? Not really her field of expertise.

  She set her daughter down in her crib and covered her before sneaking out of the room. It was too early for bed, besides, she was way too keyed up from all that ‘dancing’ with Kevin. Again. The cowboy put the sex in sexy, and she needed something cold to help simmer down.

  Shayla was just spooning the last of The Creamery’s Death By Chocolate into her mouth when a lit rap sounded at the door.

  She froze, heart suddenly pounding in her ears, via her throat. Armed with her empty spoon, she hurried to peek through the keyhole. Dark hair, blue eyes, worn jeans hugging a lean, trim…

  The pounding in her ears skipped loud and shot straight to deafening, while a flood of heat washed through her body in a delicious wave. Kevin. Why was he there? She unlocked then opened the door.

  “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” She stood there, frowning at him with a spoon in her hand.

  Idiot.

  “Yeah, well, no,” he said, glancing behind her into the apartment. “Is Amelia asleep?”

  She nodded. “Yes, why?”

  “Because I was trying to respect your wishes to help with her attachment, but I needed to see you.” Troubled blue eyes stared unblinkingly at her. “There was one more thing we forgot to discuss tonight.”

  “Oh? What?” She asked, mind fogged by his unexpected visit and potent presence.

  “This.”

  Befor
e she could reply, he was in the apartment, door closed, pressing her against the wall with his deliciously, hot, hard body, sure hands thrust deep into her hair, holding her head immobile as his mouth caught her startled breath.

  Damn, he moved quick. And the delectable nature of his swift, sure, deliberate movements reawakened the heat in her belly. Oh Lordy did she like this discussion.

  The floor caught the spoon that slipped from her hand as she reached out to grip his collar and hold on tight. Hot and full of desire, the cowboy tasted way better than ice cream. She was open to discussing this all night long, and would’ve told him, but her tongue was currently down his throat.

  Without releasing her mouth, he lifted her up, and she happily wrapped her legs around his hips. A grunt sounded in his throat, then repeated when he pressed his erection against her center.

  He broke the kiss. “I’ve missed this,” he said, trailing hot kisses down her neck, stopping to nibble behind her ear.

  She sucked in a breath and crushed him closer, kissing a path across the only flesh available to her, his temple. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  There, she managed to say it out loud. Whatever happened, happened. At least she had the clear conscience of stating the obvious.

  “I know.” His warm breath tickled her ear as his teeth nipped her earlobe and sent goosebumps down her body. Then his hand slid under her sweater, skimming over her ribs to cup her bra and brush a thumb across her lace-covered nipple.

  The heat pooling in her belly spread to every pore north and south. At once. Things were getting real.

  Yeah, real good.

  Shayla grabbed Kevin’s head and pulled his face to hers, gaze full of so much heat and longing it was nearly his undoing.

  “Please tell me you have a condom,” she said, voice breathy with need before kissing the corner of his mouth and running her tongue over his lower lip.

  Jesus, she was killing him.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, returning the favor, then slid his tongue into her mouth for a very thorough sparring match that had need spiking through him and her gorgeous prone body shaking in his arms. Breaking the kiss, he sucked in a breath. “What room?”

  “Guest room,” she replied, kissing his jaw. “Amelia’s asleep in mine.”

  He pushed them from the wall and headed down the hall, two hands full of a world-class ass he’d never tire of touching. Or kissing. Or biting. Or licking. Heat skittered down his spine. He only came by for a kiss, to satisfy the fierce ache the damn dancing had created. An ache only her lips could assuage. But somewhere between assuaging and drawing back, the lines blurred, resolve shifted, and the next thing he knew, her legs were around his hips and he was hard. Hell, he’d been hard since that damn tango at Mrs. Avery’s.

  This was a bad idea, but he was past caring. Especially when she nipped at his chin, then bottom lip and sucked it into her mouth. Damn, she was potent.

  Kevin carried her to the bed, then let her slide slowly down, enjoying every single soft curve brushing his body. Groaning, he drew her in closer, kissing her long and deep and… Oh Jesus, her hands slipped under his shirt and skimmed his abs as she unbuttoned his jeans.

  Sneaky little minx.

  Desire flamed through his body. He released her mouth and ran his hands down her sides to rest on her hips. “We need to lose the clothes. Fast.”

  “I agree, cowboy,” she said, stepping back to pull off her sweater, then unbutton and unzip before she shrugged out of her jeans.

  With his coat and shirt already on the floor, he nearly lost his balance and fell on top of them as he shucked his boots, socks and jeans while she stood before him in a lacey black bra and matching panties.

  “Nice.”

  The gorgeous woman had no idea what she did to him. He removed his boxers, stepped close and fell with her onto the bed, vaguely thinking that Cole was right. He hadn’t lasted a week.

  He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and grinned down at the beauty beneath him. “What’ll it be?” He brushed the hair from her face. “Top or bottom?”

  A wicked smile curved the lips she pressed to his palm. “Both.” Then a second later, she rolled them until she was on top. “Okay?”

  “Absolutely, darlin’.” His voice was low and rough to his ears, but considering he was hard and throbbing, he wasn’t surprised. He skimmed his hands up her thighs and ribs on his way to her back. God, she was so soft. Silky. With a quick flick, he unhooked her bra and tossed it over the side of the bed. Freed, her beautiful breasts bounced, those silver-dollar nipples bared and begging for his attention.

  He obliged.

  Cupping and tweaking, he brushed his thumbs over both peaks, and she closed her eyes and moaned while she rocked on his erection. Stars. Kevin saw stars and clamped down hard on his control. She was magnificent, and so damn responsive he wanted to hear her scream his name. Stroking a finger over the black lace covering her mound, he was rewarded with a long, low moan.

  “I need you in me,” she said.

  He grabbed her upper arms and tugged her down, temperature nearing inferno at the feel of her soft, full breasts brushing his chest. She opened her mouth, but he didn’t wait for her words, he kissed her hard and deep, needing so much. She trembled and touched her tongue to his. That’s what he needed. Her hunger, her heat. He needed to know he wasn’t in the crazy firestorm of need alone.

  Running his hands down the curve of her back, he released her mouth to kiss a path down her throat and sink his teeth in her neck just behind her ear. She sucked in a breath and rocked against him. Heat ricocheted down his body. He ripped off her panties then flipped them over so he was on top. “My turn,” he said against her collar bone as he brushed his lips down her breast and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

  “Kevin,” she said in a breathy whisper, her fingers thrusting into his hair to hold him there.

  But he had plans.

  He released her gorgeous peak in exchange for the other where he tugged until her squirming had him fighting to keep from exploding. The woman was a gift. She gave without even knowing. He kissed a path down her quivering belly straight to the part he longed to taste and explore the most. Shayla trembled and opened her legs as if she needed his mouth on her there, too.

  Well, he was not about to disappoint. Kissing a trail down her inner thigh, he spread her farther, holding her open with his shoulders as he brushed a finger over her center. “You’re wet,” he said before pressing his mouth to her glistening folds.

  A sweet, sexy whimper met his ears as her fingers returned to tangle in his hair and hold him in place. Glancing up, intent on telling her he wasn’t going anywhere, he stilled, heart rocking hard in his chest at the sight of her caught up in the fiery passion. Lips parted, eyes half-closed, glazed over and dark with need. She was every man’s fantasy.

  She was his tonight.

  Empowered by the knowledge, he watched her face as he pressed his mouth back on her and didn’t let up until he commanded the scream he’d yearned to hear. When her shuddering finally stopped, he brought her down slowly, enjoying every last bit of her succulent taste, before pulling his mouth away.

  She was so sweet.

  So beautiful.

  So hot.

  “Damn, cowboy,” she said, lifting up on her elbows to stare down at him. “I needed that.”

  A chuckle broke from his dry throat. “Me too, darlin.” He kissed one thigh, then the other before leaving the bed to fish the condom from his jeans. Foil packet in hand, he returned and brushed her hand aside when she went to help.

  “Thanks, darlin’, but if you touch me now, we’ll be done before we start.”

  A killer smile crossed her face. “Well, we don’t want that,” she said, laying back down while he covered himself.

  “No, we don’t.” He bent to kiss her hip, brushing his hands up her body until he filled them with two glorious breasts.

  She moaned, arching into him, tight nipples poking his p
alms while he nipped at the sexy curve of her waist, kissing a path to her belly button where his tongue slipped out to explore.

  She inhaled and squirmed. Damn, the woman had great squirm. And hunger, because she grasped his head and tugged him up to her mouth and kissed him wet and hot and deep.

  Ah hell, he was done.

  “I need you in me, now, Kevin,” she said against his lips. “Please.”

  Burnt bagel done. Without the salsa. Shayla’s gorgeous spread was hot enough. “Anything you want,” he said, voice low and raspy.

  Lifting up, he positioned his erection against her hot, wet heat and pushed in. His moan mingled with hers in a matching proclamation of pleasure.

  “I wish you knew how exquisite you feel around me,” he told her, watching her eyes glaze over as he slid in and out of her slick, silky warmth. “Exquisite,” he repeated.

  Soft hands skimmed up his abs and pecs, as her desire laden gaze held his stare. “I was thinking more like magnificent.”

  She thought he was magnificent?

  More of that power went to Kevin’s head, and puffed out his chest. The sexy, erotic creature thrusting beneath him with lush curves, beautiful red hair and mesmerizing blue eyes thought he was magnificent. Yeah, he could live with that.

  He’d been with a lot of women and prided himself on putting a pleased smile on their faces after a mutually satisfying romp. But none had ever made him feel ten feet tall, or want to pound on his chest. Or just plain feel.

  Shayla did.

  The others all kind of blurred together. Not Shayla Ryan. Hell no. The gorgeous, sexy woman stood out. Her hot kisses, charged touch, sensual scent, sweet, exquisite taste.

  God, he loved her taste.

  Grabbing her hands, he held them by her head, pressing into the mattress as he lowered his mouth to hers to sample more of her hot, addicting sweetness. He swept his tongue into her mouth, and she moaned and bucked against him. Heat shot down his spine and his body began to tighten.