by Jennie Marts
Her shirt hit the floor followed by her white bra, and she lay back—vulnerable and exposed—as he gazed down at her, a look of carnal hunger in his eyes.
And that’s what this was—a carnal yearning—sexual need in its purest form. Her body obeying its primal craving for this man.
Her body wanted him, but her head warned her to wait, to protect herself, to conceal her scars.
Her hands automatically reached up to cover herself. What would he think of her if he saw the evidence of what the years of abuse had done to her body.
“Don’t. You don’t need to cover yourself. I can take it.” It was as if he read her mind, as if he knew her fears.
He gently touched her hands, pulling them away, and her heart beat hard against her chest, as his gaze traveled over her, taking in each blemish, each trace of damage, each wound.
She watched his eyes, waiting for the look of horror or disgust. But instead of shock or judgement, all she saw was acceptance.
He traced the thin white line of scar tissue crossing her hip where Leroy had shoved her into the kitchen table, then he leaned down and softly kissed it. He kissed the small puckers of skin on her shoulder where Leroy had burned her with a cigarette.
Kissing each scar, he acknowledged and accepted her pain, what she’d been through.
“Don’t ever be ashamed of your scars,” he said. “They aren’t marks of shame; they’re evidence of your survival. Each one is a testament to the bravery and strength that it took to survive.”
His words filled her, taking her shame and humiliation and offering them grace, turning them into confidence and self-assurance.
She fell in love with him in that single moment.
She’d felt it coming, had been tumbling and stumbling toward it, but that moment sealed it. Whether it was smart or not, whether it made sense or not, even if they hadn’t known each other all that long—none of that mattered—she was head over heels in love with Cash Walker.
He ran the back of his fingers down her neck and skimmed the inside of her breast.
The look in his eyes was full of tenderness and adoration, and his voice was choked with emotion. “Not one of those scars matters to me. They’re just marks on your skin. I care about what’s in here, and I know that your heart is good and sweet, and that’s what makes you so beautiful to me.”
Yep. In love. All the way. No turning back.
Cash was the one.
Her heart felt like it would burst with the intensity of love she felt for this man. She couldn’t speak, afraid that if she tried, she would ruin this moment or start crying. And this moment was perfect. One she would remember for her whole life.
And Cash wasn’t through with her yet. He dipped his head, kissed her softly then brushed his thumb across the bottom of her lip. “Let me show you what it’s like to be treated the way you deserve to be treated. To be cherished. To be cared for.”
She held her breath, waiting for him to say “to be loved.” He didn’t, but she could still feel it. She knew he cared about her. Not the same way she felt for him. She couldn’t imagine anyone feeling for her what she felt for him. But she knew his feelings were real.
His words were so raw, so full of emotion, so different from the normal flirty tough cowboy that he portrayed to everyone else. And that was enough. Enough for her.
“Tell me what you like,” he said, his voice husky as his gaze roamed over her body.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She didn’t know what she liked.
Things with Leroy had always been a frantic rush of him getting in and out, only concerned with his own needs and never hers. It was often a sweaty, awkward fumbling that she bore in hopes that it would be over soon. He’d never taken the time to pursue her needs, never taken the time to even look at her the way Cash devoured her now with his intense gaze.
She shrugged, self-conscious again. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure. Leroy never—I mean—he never asked me about stuff like that.”
His look darkened at the mention of Leroy’s name. “But surely other men did—” He stopped, a stunned look on his face. “Weren’t there other men, before you got married?”
She shook her head, her eyes cast down, embarrassed. “No, he’s the only man I’ve ever been with. Until now, I mean.”
He touched her cheek tenderly. “I didn’t know. Are you sure you want to do this? Do you need more time? I can wait.”
“I can’t. I want this.” She took his hand from her cheek and entwined his fingers with hers. “I want you.”
He leaned forward, dropping a soft kiss in the spot on her neck just beneath her ear and sending another shiver of pleasure racing through her. “I want you, too,” he practically growled. “I want you so bad.”
“I’ve waited years for a man to want me like that, to touch me the way you do. I don’t want to stop. Please don’t stop. I want to feel what’s it’s supposed to be like. To be wanted like that.”
He leaned back, eyeing her with a look of indecision, then a teasing grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “I guess when you put it like that, there’s no way I can refuse. And at least I know the bar’s been set pretty low.”
She laughed, and the tension left her shoulders.
This was what sex was supposed to be like. Not the way it was with Leroy and not the way it was portrayed in the movies where everything was perfectly choreographed. This was real.
And evidently real sex was messy and clumsy, but full of fun and laughter mixed with steam and passion.
Yes, this was what she wanted. This man, making her insides go soft and swirly as he teased her body with his mouth and hands, while he still made her laugh and quieted her unease and self-consciousness.
His eyes were dark and intense, but his touch was soft. His hands were rough and reverent as they slid down her legs. He lifted her leg, bending it at the knee, and laid a kiss inside the arch of her foot.
Holy crazy hotness. The feel of his whiskered chin scraping her sole sent rushes of desire tearing through her, not to mention that she lay exposed and open before him.
His fingers circled her ankle then slowly traced up her leg. She shivered at the exquisite anguish as he teased and tickled her skin. Bending forward, he lay a kiss on the inside of her thigh.
Sucking in her breath, she waited, waited to see where his lips would touch next. A moan escaped her as his whiskers grazed the tender crease of her thigh. She’d never experienced a feeling like this—the way her body reacted with a desire that verged on pain.
Everything else fell away—her scars, her past with Leroy, her insecurities—they were all replaced with this experience with Cash. With these breathless moments filled with passion and anticipation.
She savored each feeling, each new sensation, as the flame built inside her, creating a fire of need and wanton fervor.
His lips kissed and teased, getting closer to her feminine core, and she thought she might explode if his mouth got any closer and actually touched her there.
On the other hand, she might explode if he didn’t.
Speaking of his other hand—it was doing delicious things as he searched out her warm center, exploring, rubbing, bringing her closer to the edge with each stroke.
“Damn, woman, I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I can’t wait any more. I need to feel you.” He stood up, hurriedly working his jeans over his hips, stopping to yank his wallet from his pocket before dropping them to the floor. He pulled a foil-wrapped condom from its folds before tossing the wallet onto his jeans, then covered himself and settled back between her legs.
His weight on top of her felt wonderful, his muscled arms cradling her against him as he pressed into her. She sighed as his strong fingers ran down her back and dug into her hip.
It had been so long. And it had never been like this. This was all new—the sensations foreign and even a little frightening. But she didn’t want him to stop.
She caught her breath—a quick gasp at the sweet i
ntensity of the stretching fullness that bordered between pleasure and pain. Then the slow rhythm of movement as he rocked against her, her core pulsing with need for him.
Glancing up at him, she saw his jaw tighten, as if he were trying to cling to some form of control. And losing.
His motion quickened, and threads of pleasure slid through her.
Her thoughts were jumbled, she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think at all.
Could only feel. Feel the toned muscles under her fingers as she clutched his back. Feel the scrape of his teeth against her collarbone. Feel the sheets twisting beneath them.
Her body quivered with bliss as he carried her higher and higher, her toes curling as she teetered on the edge.
A sigh caught in her throat, her breath coming in short, tight gasps as his quickened movements sent her falling over, holding on to him as the flashes of heat coursed through her. Again. And again.
Then she was dissolving under him, melting into the bed, as he slumped on top of her, spent and sated.
She kissed his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, then he slid off her and drew her close to his side.
Trying to catch her breath, she curled in to him.
And. Couldn’t. Stop. Smiling.
It was as if she had no control of her own facial muscles; the grin overtook her face, and she couldn’t stop. A tiny ripple of laughter bubbled up inside her.
He jostled her against him. “I don’t know if laughter was the reaction I was going for.”
Her grin practically split her face. “I’m just so dang happy. And that was really amazing.”
He chuckled. “Okay, I’ll take that reaction. Especially the amazing part.”
“Cash Walker, I think you have ruined me for every other man.”
He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to his. “Good. Because I plan to be the only man who makes you feel like this. The only man who’s ever gonna be in your bed again. In fact, I don’t think we should ever leave this bed. What do you have to say about that?”
“I say that sounds good to me.” She gave him a sideways glance as she pulled her bottom lip under her teeth. “I just have one question for you though.”
“What’s that?”
“When can we do it again?”
Chapter Twelve
Cash draped an arm around the back of the bench seat in his truck and grinned as Emma scooted closer and slid under the crook of his elbow. “You have a good day?”
It was the next day, and he’d just picked her up from the diner. They’d planned to go horseback riding that afternoon, and Cash’d had Cherry put together a full picnic supper complete with fried chicken and strawberry lemonade. He was surprised at how antsy and excited he’d been all day as he’d waited for Emma to get off work.
“It was good, but long.” She gave him a gentle nudge in the ribs. “I know it’s only three o’clock, but I’ve been thinking about our—um, date, I guess—all day.” He felt her shoulders tense. “Is it okay to call it a date?”
“Sure. You can call it whatever you want.” He dropped his hand down to rub her neck, and he felt her shoulders relax as he said, “And I’ve been thinking about it, and you, all day today, too. I’ve got it all planned out. We can take the horses down through the back pasture and up into the hills behind the farm. There’s a real pretty lake up there that I thought you might like to see. And I even had Cherry make us a picnic to take along. She brought it out while I was waiting for you.”
“So that’s what was in the basket. I saw her bring it out while I was hanging up my apron.” She shook her head, her gaze fixed on her clasped hands in her lap. “I’ve never had anyone actually plan a whole date for me before.”
“Well, then it’s about damn time you did.”
She turned her head to him, a beaming smile covering her face, and he would have planned a hundred dates, arranged for a hundred picnics—hell, he’d fry the chicken himself—if it earned him another grin like that one.
He pulled the truck into the driveway of the farm, and thirty minutes later, Emma had changed into jeans and boots, and Cash had packed up their supplies and saddled the horses.
He patted the neck of a golden-colored mare. “This is Ginger. She’s a real sweetheart. She’s been around forever. We let little kids ride her because she’s so gentle. She’s the horse that Charlie learned to ride on as well, and she was way more scared than you are.”
She nodded and rubbed her sweaty hands on her jeans. “Okay.”
“So stick your foot in here, then grab a hold of the saddle horn to help pull yourself up.” He held out the stirrup. “You nervous?”
“Heck, yeah, I’m nervous.” She fit her boot into the stirrup, grabbed the horn of the saddle, pulled herself up, swung her leg over, and dropped into the saddle. Offering him a brave grin, she said, “But I’m not scared.”
Cash brushed his hand down her leg as she settled into the saddle. “You’re going to do fine. I’ll lead, and Ginger will pretty much follow along behind my horse.”
“Pretty much?” Her voice was a little shaky, leading Cash to believe she might not feel as brave as she was acting.
“Trust your horse. Yeah, she’s big. But she’s solid. Even when she’s walking on rocky ground or trotting a little, to her, she’s just walking. She’s very surefooted so she won’t fall down or anything.” He showed her how to guide the horse using the reins then patted the horse’s mane. “She’s a good horse. She won’t let you down.”
Not like I might.
The thought struck him as he climbed atop his own horse, a dark brown gelding named Renegade. But he didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to contemplate all the reasons why getting involved with Emma was a bad idea.
Waking up beside her this morning sure hadn’t been a bad idea. She’d looked like an angel with her hair spread across the pillow and her expression serene as she slept.
They’d sliced the pie the night before, scooped on dollops of vanilla ice cream, and eaten it naked in her bed.
He’d grinned that morning as he’d brushed an errant crumb off his pillow, remembering the way the vanilla ice cream had tasted as he’d licked drops of it off her bare skin.
The movement on the pillow had woken her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she must have liked seeing his grin, because she rewarded him with a smile and cuddled into his arms.
They’d made love again that morning, slow and sweet, and by the light of day, Cash could see the multitude of scars on her body. Scars that Leroy had given her. His gut churned with anger at the thought of Leroy hurting her, and he knew if he ever ran into him again, he just might kill the son of a bitch.
Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he focused on the ride ahead and making sure that Emma was okay on the horse behind him.
He gave his horse a nudge in the side and clicked his tongue, and the animal plodded forward. Ren had been his horse for the past ten years, and they had an understanding.
Turning in the saddle, he checked on Emma. “Just give her a little kick in the sides with the heel of your boot, and she’ll start walking.”
Emma prodded the horse with her heels and gripped the reins, her face showing a slight bit of alarm as the horse lumbered forward.
He chuckled. “You okay?”
She gave a nod. “Yep, I’m okay.”
He turned around and guided Renegade through the pasture and up toward the wooded area behind the farm. The path through the fields was easy, and he wanted her to have that time to get comfortable before it got a little rougher as they entered the trees.
“You still doing all right back there?” he called over his shoulder.
“I’m doing fine. Ginger is just following behind your horse. I don’t really even have to do anything besides sit here. I’m having fun, actually.”
“Good. It’s gonna get a little rocky through this next part, but just hold on. I promise it will be worth the wait.”
Twenty minutes later, the woo
ds opened on a clearing, a sparkling blue lake in its center. He heard Emma’s gasp and grinned. “I told you so.”
He led them over to a large cottonwood tree, climbed down from his horse, and helped Emma dismount.
She slid down and leaned against him as her knees started to buckle. He grabbed her before she fell. “Whoa there. You all right?”
Rubbing her legs, she looked up at him with a sheepish grin. “Yeah, I’m fine. My legs are just a little shaky. It’s just been a while since I’ve used my horseback riding muscles.”
“I thought you said you hadn’t ridden a horse before.”
“I haven’t. But I used the muscles plenty last night.” She arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for the meaning of her words to soak in.
“Oh, you mean—” He wiggled his eyebrows then chuckled at the pink tinge in her cheeks.
She laughed with him as he led the horses closer to the tree. Its trunk was massive, with snarled roots snaking out along the ground and thick branches strong enough for him to toss the reins around to hold their horses.
Even though it was early fall, the tree’s branches were still thick with leaves, and they formed a canopy over the base of the tree. A slight breeze blew, and whispers of sound fluttered through the multicolored leaves that were just starting to change.
“It’s beautiful,” Emma said, her voice holding a tone of awe.
Cash slipped up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and speaking into her ear. “You’re beautiful.”
She ducked her head, obviously embarrassed. “You don’t need to say that, Cash. I know I’m not. I’ve always been plain. Even in school, I knew I was kind of like a dandelion in a bed of roses.”
“What are you talking about?” He turned her around and tipped her chin up. “You’re no dandelion. And you are beautiful to me. Being beautiful is about more than the way you wear your hair or how you look. It’s the way you are on the inside. It’s how you treat people and how you care for animals and old folks. Your beauty shines through when you smile at customers in the diner, when you laugh with Charlie, when you put a comforting arm around Sophie, and when you grin up at me in the moments after you’ve just called out my name and God’s in the same breath.”
