“I’m beginning to like this job.”
This time she handed it to him and he ate it in one bite. “So, what do you think? Heaven or Sunset?”
He chewed slowly, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Heaven, definitely. Although both are delicious.”
She grabbed the wet dishrag and wiped the counter, more to reduce excess energy than necessity. “Great. Thank you. I thought so too, but I couldn’t stop second-guessing myself. My plans are to start a cookbook when I get time and I have to write all of my recipes on paper. I have to start over since my laptop was destroyed in the fire.” She was rambling, and he was quiet. She spun on heel, not realizing he was still standing behind her, she bumped against his iron hard chest. “Oh sorry.”
“You have icing in your hair.” His sweet-scented breath brushed her cheek.
“I—I make a mess when I bake.” Swiping a hand over her hair, she noticed his smile. “Still there?”
“Here, let me.” He threaded his fingers through her tresses, gentle for a man with such large hands. “There, all gone.” His hand lingered then he swept his thumb along her ear.
“Deckland…” His name fell from her lips.
“Yes?”
“Is your body tingling too?” she whispered.
“Tingling, blood rushing through my veins and my heart is thudding.” He slid his hand to her nape, stretching his fingers along the sensitive skin, triggering prickles of heat down her spine.
“Is this safe?” They were so close that the tips of their noses almost touched.
“Is anything ever safe when it comes to attraction?”
Beep, beep.
Elsa jumped at the sound of the oven timer. “My cupcakes.”
He pulled back—way back. “I guess you have to get that, huh?” Disappointment covered his expression.
For the life of her, she couldn’t think. The cupcakes didn’t matter, nothing except her feelings. But before she could find the words to tell him what she wanted, he crossed the room. “I better go grab a shower.”
She watched him walk out as regret washed over her. In frustration, she went to the stove and took out the pan. “Awful timing,” she whispered.
Placing the cakes on the counter, she threw down the oven mitt and buried her forehead in her palm. She was tired of fighting the enraging ache for Deckland. She was exhausted from being afraid all of the time.
Dropping her hand and turning, she decided it was time to make a change. He wouldn’t mind her helping wash his back…
“Hello?” The door squeaked and Peyton breezed in, her attention on the cupcakes. “Looks like I came at the best time. And I promise it wasn’t planned.” A smile broke out over her pretty features. “Surely this isn’t just for you and Deckland.”
Elsa forced a laugh, but her insides fizzled. One minute earlier and Peyton could have caught Elsa sampling a cowboy. That could have shocked the woman into labor. “I have a wedding I’m doing tomorrow. However, I have extras. Choose whatever you want.”
“You’re such a darling. The last thing I need is more weight, but I won’t allow it to stop me.” Peyton deliberated over the variety of cakes, grabbed one and sat at the table.
“You are still stunning and I’m sure the dictionary definition for ‘pregnancy glow.’” Her long hair hung in a silken wave, her skin was a perfect shade of alabaster and her baby bump was barely visible under the loose-fitting maxi-dress.
With a shrug, Peyton popped the cupcake in her mouth, chewed and smiled. “This is what contentment does for a woman. I suggest all women find the man who can make her feel like she’s on top of the world. Dillon makes me happier every day. I never would have believed I could be this happy with being sappy. This morning, I woke up and he’d placed a rose on his pillow. Last week, he knew I was tired so he entertained the pre-school group at dance.”
Elsa swallowed the constriction in her throat. She’d once believed in love and happiness. After a rotten relationship, she remained fearful and doubtful.
“You look like you’re in deep thought,” Peyton said.
Elsa chuckled nervously. “Well, before I forget, I have something for you.” Grabbing the pink box and plastic bag she’d set aside earlier that day, she handed them to Peyton. “I know you’ve been craving eclairs and tiramisu, so I made some special for you and lemon tarts for April. And thank you for lending your clothes. I meant to return them before now but I’ve been rushing to get the cupcakes finished in time. I’m very appreciative that Deckland allowed me to use his kitchen, but I’ve had to adapt. Without professional appliances I have to do everything in smaller batches.”
“Where is my brother-in-law anyway?”
“I think he’s taking a shower.” A cold one, she’d guess.
“Good. That gives you and me some time to discuss girly things, like how are things going between you two? Sit down and let’s chat. Living under the same roof with a cowboy like Deckland must be very hard.” Peyton wriggled her brows suggestively.
Elsa pulled out a chair and sat. She wanted to pretend stupidity, but she knew her friend would see straight through her. “I know April has suggested many times before that Deckland is available, but I’m not sure I’m his type.” Spreading her palms on the table, she thought over her words. No one here knew of her past and that was how she wanted to keep it, at least for now. “I’m not even sure that I’m ready to take a step into a relationship.”
Peyton nodded. “I hear you. No worries. Deckland is a genuine gentleman and would never pursue someone who isn’t ready. But it seems you’re at a tug-of-war.”
A funny feeling fluttered inside of Elsa’s chest. Deckland was a perfect gentleman, and he deserved more than she could ever offer. She was like an acid rain on a parade. Her luck had always been poor when it came to men and relationships. The last one was the dynamite that exploded all of her hopes and dreams. “You’re right, he is wonderful. I can’t believe someone hasn’t snagged him yet.”
“I only know of one relationship, if you can call it that, since I met Dillon. Aspen left before things really started.”
Elsa narrowed her gaze as curiosity spun a web. “Do you think he had feelings for her?”
Peyton hesitated. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s hard to know the difference between true emotions and loneliness. And we can’t forget that Deckland is always putting others first, fixing everyone’s problems. That’s just the way he is.”
Her stomach rolled. Deckland liked “fixing” people. He probably saw her as a charity situation. The last thing she wanted was to be a man’s mental case.
Later, long after Peyton had gone and the cakes were packed and put away, Elsa glanced at the digital clock on the stove. 10 P.M. She was ready for bed. Deckland had left again earlier, briskly telling her that he had business to take care of and wouldn’t be back until after midnight. She assumed that was his way of telling her not to bother waiting up.
Climbing the stairs, her neck ached from bending over the counter all day. She needed a steam bath to ease her muscles and, with Deckland gone, she had the place to herself. The large tub would be heaven to sink into.
Passing her bedroom, she went to the bathroom and turned on the water, adjusting it to a slightly bearable temperature. Hotter the better. Deep and wide, the tub took forever to fill, which left her with time on her hands. Curiosity motivated her into looking in the medicine cabinet where Deckland kept his toiletries. She was invading his space, but it wasn’t as if she was in his bedroom snooping.
Picking up a cologne bottle, she recognized his unique fragrance, a mixture of masculinity and spice. Pushing the nozzle, she inhaled the sharp scent. Her muscles quivered at the delicious smell.
Putting the cologne back on the shelf, she touched the unused bar of soap, but skipped it and went for the moisturizing lotion. Deckland thought about his skin but wasn’t obsessed. Turning the sleek bottle over, she squirted a pea-sized amount into her palm and spread the silken creaminess acr
oss her skin. The clean scent made her want to slather her body, but she’d wait until after the bath.
As she replaced the lotion, she knocked a box of bandages over and a prescription bottle fell from the shelf, landed in the sink and rolled until it came to a stop. Picking it up, she read the name but had no clue what it was for, but it was prescribed to Deckland.
Arranging everything back in its place, she closed the cabinet.
Slipping out of her clothes, she remembered she didn’t grab a nightgown to slip in. Seeing Deckland’s T-shirt hanging on the hook on the back of the door, she didn’t think he’d mind if she borrowed it again.
Glancing toward the full-length mirror, she caught her nude reflection. She studied her breasts, her stomach and rounded hips. When compared to most women, she guessed she was considered average. Her breasts weren’t big or small, but they were firm and her nipples were soft. She’d lost weight and her ribs were slightly visible under her pale skin. Her chest and arms had a sprinkling of freckles, which she’d hated as a kid, but now she found they made her unique.
The area between her legs had a narrow trail of groomed hair, the same color as that on her head. Her ex had liked her skin bare and she’d waxed regularly. The first thing she’d done when she’d left him was grow a “landing strip.” It was amazing how little, unimportant things could make a woman feel liberated.
Would Deckland find her attractive without clothes on?
She wasn’t graceful and stunning like Peyton or glamorous and beautiful like April. She certainly couldn’t be considered mysterious and spontaneous, as she believed a man wanted—probably what Deckland wanted.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d bury herself in a depressed mood.
Turning away, she stuck her hand under the running water. The tub was finally full enough for her to slide shoulder deep.
Her skin tingled as she sank into the luxurious embrace. Stretching out and leaning her head against the edge, she smiled as her muscles warmed like butter. The tub was big enough to fit a brawny cowboy like Deckland, probably both of them at the same time. The image sent drops of desire through her veins.
Closing her eyes, she relaxed completely, enjoying the sensation of the water sliding over her skin like a feathered caress. Her nipples beaded and the nub between her legs flared.
Since she’d come to the ranch, she hadn’t pleasured herself, but desire flowed like wine.
Allowing her hands to wander, she smoothed her palms across her breasts, flicking her hardened nipples with the tip of her thumbnail. Shards of electricity coursed through her. Biting her lower lip, she derailed a moan.
Sliding her hands lower, over her ribcage and stomach, she dipped her fingers to the slick wetness between her legs. She imagined Deckland’s callused hands exploring her body, teasing her nerve endings into awakening. His fingers were long and would fill her core, reaching deep inside of her. Her flesh would tremble under his touch, every sweet curve would rouse upon his attention. He would take her places she only dreamed of going.
A whimper escaped her moist lips when heat grew creamy in her slit. Aroused beyond belief, she couldn’t believe she could find such satisfaction with her own small fingers. Lusty thoughts of a sexy cowboy with pensive eyes made self-pleasure go a long way.
CHAPTER FIVE
HE WAS EXHAUSTED and the sooner he fell into bed, the better. He was horny and the torment wasn’t getting any better.
Storming out of the house a few hours ago, he’d rambled an excuse off to Elsa as he passed her in the kitchen on his way to the door. Hell, he couldn’t admit to her that he’d implode with need if he touched her one more time and was expected to back off.
Sometimes a man just needed to clear his head. He’d gone to Starkey’s and had a beer.
A group of women who were celebrating a bridal shower had paid for his drink. Several of them, gorgeous and smelling good, had made it obvious they were available for his taking. They’d brushed their breasts against his shoulders, laid soft hands on his forearm and looked at him with sultry gazes. He’d gotten a glance at more cleavage tonight than he had in the last year. He’d known, without a doubt, he could have propositioned one, two or more of them and they’d have screwed him senseless.
When was the last time he’d been screwed senseless?
He groaned in disappointment.
Truth was, not one woman he saw tonight had interested him. Even the most beautiful of the group didn’t fill him with a desire so dark and deep that he thought he’d starve with hunger if he didn’t have her. He had no overwhelming drive to tear any one of their clothes off, throw them into bed and make love to them until they were a trembling mass of skin and bones.
The only woman who came to mind—the one who had him raging like a savage beast—was the one he couldn’t have. The woman he had no business wanting.
Elsa.
Climbing the stairs, he tore his shirt from his frame. Seams ripped and he didn’t give a shit. He got to the middle of the hallway when he heard a faint sound.
A sliver of light tumbled from the crack of the opened bathroom door.
Another sound drifted to his ears. A moan?
What the hell?
“Elsa? Is that you?”
No answer.
He headed in the direction of the light that beckoned him. He pushed through the open door, took one step into the bathroom and stopped dead in his tracks. His breath swooshed from his lungs. Elsa was in the tub, her long locks spread over the edge like a golden wave. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were a fascinating color of red. She appeared to be sleeping but her shoulder jerked.
Her pale pink nipples skimmed right above the line of water. His mouth watered and his dick cocked in observation. Another moan slipped past her trembling lips, a telltale sound that warned him she was focused.
Her back arched as the water splashed around her, her knees widened.
Bloody hell! She was touching herself.
Growing to unreasonable length, his cock was strangled by the teeth of his zipper. He shifted quietly and carefully, but it didn’t help. She was mesmerizing.
He wanted to call her name, to have her look at him while she brought herself to orgasm, but she’d probably throw a bar of soap at him.
Or, would she invite him in?
Yeah, right!
She rolled her head and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. His fingers itched to help her reach a climax. He couldn’t see her fingers moving, but in his mind, he imagined every detail. Every wet curve. The quivering of creamy flesh.
If he wasn’t careful, he’d go, then and there, while watching her from the shadows.
He couldn’t allow that to happen. He needed to give her privacy, yet he could promise her far more pleasure than her own touch.
Stepping back, he closed the door with a soft click. He hoped she didn’t hear it shut.
Making his way to his room, frustration pounded through him. For as long as he lived, he’d never forget how beautiful she looked as she touched herself.
Muttering a string of curses, he threw his discarded shirt on the chair in the corner and jerked his belt buckle loose. His fingers paused when he heard the draining of water through the pipes. She was finished. His mind traveled down fantasy, she was toweling off her tight, rosy body flushed with satisfaction.
He tore his hand through his hair. They’d walked around the obvious attraction for days and his patience was thin. He’d caught her looking at him many times, interest filling her stormy eyes before she turned away.
Or, did he just hope the draw wasn’t one sided?
The bathroom door opened, soft footsteps sounded on the wood floor—his heart skipped a beat. He anticipated hearing her walk past his door to her bedroom, but when the knock came, he almost jumped from his boots.
Thoughts flicked through his brain. He could ignore her, pretend he was sleeping. It’d be the safer, less complicated route. But when did he ever run away from a challenge? Driven by the
need to see her, he strode to the door and pulled it open.
My God, she is beautiful.
He inhaled her scent, but there was a mixture of fragrance. She’d used his lotion. And she wore his T-shirt. His blood boiled with desire. He didn’t think he could withstand much more agony.
Her eyes were the color of a perfect sky, her skin flawless and her lips were full and the same shade as her nipples. He wanted to explore her, every silken inch until she clawed his back in need.
To be the one to fill her with pleasure would be the closest to heaven he could get here on Earth.
Would he ever get the opportunity to hold her, touch her, make love to her?
If looking at her would be his only salvation, he was a doomed man.
Tension spiraled through him. “What are you doing?”
Her gaze narrowed and her hands planted on her hips.
****
His menacing tone drove through Elsa like poison. Her brain scrambled for words, but her tongue was thick and her nerve endings raw. “Deckland…what are you doing here?”
“This is my bedroom. And that—” he pointed his head at the shirt she wore “—is mine.”
Sweeping a shaking hand down the material of the T-shirt, vulnerability crushed its way through her. “I-I forgot to grab my clothes before I went into the bathroom. The shirt was there, so I grabbed it.” She couldn’t tell him that she wore the shirt because she wanted to be close to him.
He licked his lips. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here, in my room.”
She pushed through the numb paths of her brain, searching for an answer as heat flooded her limbs. “You saw me, didn’t you?”
His lips curled. “The bathroom door was open. Did you do that on purpose? As if you walking around here in my clothes, smiling sweetly, isn’t enough to tease me to the edge of insanity.”
Blinking, she crossed her arms over her chest. Humiliation was exchanged for irritation. Having him here, staring at her, gorgeously annoyed and eyes as dark as a blustery sky made her tension roll back into place.
Second Burn Cowboy (Second Chance Series Book 6) Page 5
