A half sigh, half whimper escaped her throat.
“That. Holy hell. That. Noise. Right. There.” Each word punctuated by the powerful flex of his hips as he drove into her. Hard, fast, unyielding.
Perfect.
Curling her fingers around his biceps, Ainsley hung on for the ride. The darkened hunger in his heavy-lidded gaze fed her own, drowning out everything around them.
In Clay’s arms, she wasn’t flailing, wasn’t alone in a world that didn’t care about her. Being with Clay gave her a sense of peace and—when he reached between them to stroke her tender nub—pleasure. Her eyes drifted closed. Oh god, Clay knew all about giving pleasure.
“Stay with me, Ainsley. Let me see your eyes.”
She forced her lids open.
“That’s it. Keep your eyes on me. Show me how much you enjoy having me inside you. I wanna see you fly.”
She fixed her gaze on his face. The tight set of his jaw. The heightened color of his cheeks. The raw, blazing need staring back at her.
Holy shit. She’d done that.
Stars floated in front of her eyes. Her spine sizzled and Ainsley let go. She cried out. Her muscles squeezed him until he grunted, pumped deep, and held as he found his own release.
He sheltered her body with his, planting kisses along her neck. Nuzzled her ear as the lingering pulses of her orgasm died away.
He kissed the tip of her nose before easing back and getting to his feet.
Ainsley enjoyed the view of his naked ass as he dealt with the condom, then fell to the blanket beside her.
Clay traced her lips with the tip of a finger. “That dreamy expression on your face is sexy as hell.”
“Mmm. Guess I’ve got my answer about kinky outdoor action.”
“What answer is that, baby?” He wrapped his hand around hers and linked their fingers.
“I’m definitely into it.”
He laughed and raised her knuckles to his lips.
She stared at the sky streaked with hues of blue and purple. There were few things more beautiful than a Texas sunset. The perfect backdrop for what they’d just shared.
Almost perfect enough to make her forget how close they were to Shadow Maverick land, and ignore the nagging feeling she had about Clay’s reasons for bringing her here.
Chapter Ten
By Saturday, Ainsley had gotten used to having Clay in her bed. There was something quite delicious about having all that warm, male flesh at her disposal. And she wasn’t the only one doing the enjoying. Even in sleep Clay’s hands were on her. Holding her, cupping her, caressing her.
He touched her as though he never wanted to stop. Fine by her.
“You awake?”
But, damn. Adjusting to the ungodly hour he rose each morning would take some getting used to.
“Hmm.” She pressed back, rubbed her naked ass against him, and found him hard.
“Don’t tempt me, baby. I gotta get up.”
Ainsley shifted, arched into him again. His length nestled against the crevice of her ass. “Who’s tempting who here? My hands aren’t the ones roaming wild this morning. And for the record, you’re already up.”
Clay plucked at the nipple he’d been teasing. “You’re a wicked, wicked woman, Ainsley Russell,” he said against her ear. With a kiss to her cheek, he rolled from the bed.
She groaned at the loss of his heat. She stretched her arms over her head, exaggerating the movement when she noticed his gaze locked on her breasts. “You sure you can’t stay in bed a little longer?”
“If I get back in bed now, it’ll be hours before we crawl out again. Maybe days.” He glanced down at his erection. “I’m about to take the coldest shower of my life. I hope you know you’ll be responsible for the hard-on I’ll have every time I think about the way you look right now. All mussed and sleep-pretty.”
She kicked off the covers. “Don’t forget naked.” And shameless.
“And so gorgeous I can hardly take my eyes off you.” His brows pinched with indecision. “If I didn’t have to meet Pax…”
Ainsley missed the rest of his mumbled words as he disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the shower coming on dashed any hope he’d be back to give them both a little relief.
She stared at the ceiling and listened as Clay brushed his teeth. She didn’t understand why he was still coming around. From what she’d heard, he wasn’t the stay-for-breakfast kind of guy. Either his reputation was over-exaggerated, or … well, no or about it. She certainly wasn’t special enough to warrant such a dramatic change in behavior. The fact he’d spent the last six nights in her bed was evidence enough her information was nothing more than small-town gossip.
She was relieved, actually. One night would’ve been a cruel joke—not near enough to scratch the itch she felt whenever they were together. It had been the best week of her life.
With his laid-back attitude, Clay was fun to be around. He liked to take his time, whether they were sharing a meal, or getting naked. He was quick to smile—each one a panty-melter if she’d ever seen one—and when he laughed, holy shit, the sun shone a little brighter.
Ainsley had been tempted to confide in him. To tell him about the problems she’d inherited. She didn’t know how much longer she could breeze over his questions about her operation before he called bullshit. Didn’t know how to go about communicating what she felt. She still had a nagging sensation there was something he hadn’t told her.
She felt they were becoming friends. Hoped they were. She couldn’t stand it if he were using her to place his family into a better position to take over her ranch.
Jesus. Why couldn’t she just trust him? She wanted to. So much it hurt. She’d had her fill of people using her for their own advantage. For once in her life, she wanted to know what it felt like to be on equal ground, to have a real relationship.
Ainsley rolled from the bed, threw on the cami and shorts she no longer slept in, and went down to the kitchen. After setting the coffee to brew, she went about collecting the things she’d need to make breakfast. By the time she heard Clay on the stairs, the bacon and eggs were almost done.
Ainsley turned to see him drop his ever-present duffle bag and work boots by the door.
“Watch out for the—”
“Son of a bitch!”
“—jagged spot.”
Clay hopped a few steps and planted himself in a chair. He crossed the injured foot to rest against his thigh, bending over to pull off his sock and inspect the damage.
Ainsley left the bacon cooking and rushed to his side. “Are you okay? Here, let me see.” She wiped away the line of blood on the arch of his foot. It quickly reformed.
He snatched the dishtowel from her shoulder. “Damn it, Ainsley. I wish you’d let me fix that. One of these days, you’re going to slice your foot wide open.”
“I’m not the one sitting in a chair bleeding. And it’s not your responsibility to keep fixing things around here, Clay.” She grabbed a bottle of peroxide from under the sink. “The porch. The roof of the barn. Timber’s stall door. I appreciate it, I really do.” But, enough was enough. He refused to take money for supplies or his efforts, and she hated that his actions made her question his motives.
She set the bottle on the table beside him and leaned over his foot.
“I’ve got this, thanks.” He opened the peroxide. He drizzled it over the area, holding a towel to catch the excess. Fast and efficient, he cleaned the injury. Ainsley wondered how many wounds he’d tended in the past. Working on a ranch, probably quite a few.
“While I’m enjoying a helluva view, I think your bacon is burning.”
Ainsley smacked his shoulder and laughed. “You’re not supposed to be looking down my top.”
“That would be like giving a deaf man his hearing and telling him not to listen. Bacon, Ains. Burning.”
“Oh. Right.” Of course. Throw a set of breasts in front of him, no matter who they belonged to, and he’d pay attention. Normal male b
ehavior, sure. But it reminded Ainsley of the fleeting nature of their … whatever the heck they were doing. Having sex, maybe becoming friends, not having a relationship.
Bacon popped and sizzled, warranting her attention. She pulled the frying pan from the burner. Hot grease jumped, dotted tiny pinpricks along her forearm as she set the pan aside. She picked up a fork and started removing the slices. “I hope you like your bacon crisp.”
“I like bacon, period. The crisper the better, in my opinion. While I appreciate the effort, you didn’t have to cook for me. It’s early. You should still be tucked into bed.”
“It should be a crime to get up before the sun on a Saturday, but I have chores to do too. Besides, I’ve never had anyone to cook for before. It’s nice,” she admitted softly.
“Maybe someday you’ll have a house full of kids running around. You might change your mind about how much you love to cook then. Me and my brothers and sisters ate pretty much ’round the clock growing up. Drove my mom nuts.”
Ainsley’s heart fluttered at the idea of becoming a mom. The idea both thrilled her and scared the living shit out of her.
“If I’ve got a house full of kids, the husband who filled my belly with them better be prepared to help. I won’t have a man who thinks it’s okay to take his pleasure and not love and care for the results.” She’d seen too much pain and heartbreak to invite it into her own home. “I’m sure your dad helped out when your mom needed a break, right?”
“He did. Although he can’t really cook worth a damn. He could whip up a platter of ham and cheese sandwiches like nobody’s business, though. They make a good team, my parents. Each stepping up for the other when needed. They put each other first, even before us kids.”
“You never resented them for that?”
“Hell no. The home is only as strong as its foundation. Their happiness together was evident in how they loved and raised us.”
“All children should be so lucky. I won’t accept anything less for mine.”
Clay’s jaw clenched. His gaze flared with an emotion she didn’t understand before he returned to doctoring his foot. He finished quickly and went to the sink to wash his hands.
Ainsley filled their plates, wondering at the sudden tension in the room. She set the plates on the table, and turned to the coffeepot. By the time Clay resumed his seat, she was ready to join him.
“I’m sorry about your foot. Is it okay?”
“Just a scratch. It’ll be fine.”
For the first time since they’d met, an awkward silence descended.
He’d been the one to bring up kids. Had he thought she’d have them by immaculate conception? That she wouldn’t expect the same loving commitment she was prepared to give? His reaction to her husband comment didn’t make any sense. It’s not as if she’d been talking about him. Although he would make gorgeous children.
Nothing could stop the fantasy from playing out in her head. A brood of rough and tumble boys and strong-willed girls with Clay’s dark coloring and her aqua eyes. His devilish smile. Her independent nature.
Shit.
“You’re meeting Pax this morning?” She attempted to break the tension.
“Yeah. He’s meeting me at my place along with Colt and Dakota.”
“Those the guys you were with last weekend?”
He nodded. “We’ve been friends since grade school. Colt’s the vet around here. I’m surprised you haven’t met him.”
“Thank goodness I haven’t had a need for his services. I’m sure those days are coming to an end soon.” One way or another. “And Dakota … he’s the bull rider, right?”
“A damn good one too, when he’s not all banged up.”
“How bad’s he hurt?” Ainsley was suddenly grateful Clay wasn’t into that kind of thing. Oh god, he wasn’t, was he? “Please tell me you don’t ride.”
“Not me. My riding is limited to horses, motorized vehicles, and beautiful women.” He offered her a wink. “As for Dakota, he busted his leg along with a couple of ribs. He’s rehabbing. Stubborn jackass will be back on the bull before we know it.”
Ainsley tried to ignore the inference she was one of the many women in his life. “I’d like to see it sometime. You know … your place. Where you live.”
Clay glanced at her, and then resumed eating as if she hadn’t spoken, his expression pensive.
“No pressure,” she said. “I mean, you always come here and I don’t mind at all, but I assume you live closer to Shadow Maverick. You might get to sleep longer if I stayed at your place once in a while.” And she was rambling. “Or not. I don’t mean to assume we should spend every night together. You might have other…” God, what was wrong with her?
He released his fork with a clank. “Other what, Ainsley?” He cursed softly. “Other women?”
He’d read her mind. Damn it. It was so fucking confusing, having him here. In her bed, in her life. She’d grown accustomed to him. It scared her how aware of him she was even when he wasn’t close. It was too much, too soon. Too easy to let her emotions create expectations he wouldn’t want any part of.
“Why not? I don’t have any claim on you.”
His strange expression was back. “Is that what you want?”
Lord almighty, this wasn’t the way she’d intended their breakfast to go. Butterflies exploded in her stomach, and she looked away. The thought of him touching another woman made her want to vomit, but what did she have to offer him? Clay had a strong, loving relationship with his family. He took pride in continuing the legacy of Shadow Maverick Ranch. Hell, he could probably trace his roots back hundreds of years.
Ainsley couldn’t trace her roots to the corner store. Not to mention her legacy was hemorrhaging cash like a busted water pipe. It would be selfish of her to tell him yes, she did want exclusive rights to everything he had to give, when she couldn’t offer him half in return.
Thankfully, he didn’t press for an answer. He pushed his plate away and changed the subject instead. “I’m headed to Galveston with the guys today. Pax’s girlfriend, Reese, has a friend who has a house there. The recent storms caused some damage to her roof. I offered to help with the repairs. I’m not sure when we’ll be back.”
“I hope for her sake the damage isn’t too bad.” Ainsley collected their plates and carried them to the sink. Her brain knew they didn’t—shouldn’t—have to spend every night together. Her body wasn’t so logical. Her bed would feel empty without him beside her. “Do what you need to do. I’ve neglected things around here that need attention, so I’ll be busy anyway.” She had a meeting with her second-in-command, followed by fixing a section of fence she noticed down during their last ride.
“What’s going on with you this morning?”
Excellent question. She wished she knew. Her emotions were foreign … so confused and needy. Two things she refused to be. “Nothing.”
“Have I worn out my welcome? You want me out of your bed?”
She spun around. “What? No.”
There was the crux of her problem. She wanted him more than she had a right. Until the mess of her life was sorted, she needed to keep a lid on all the feelings he provoked.
He slid his chair back and patted his thigh. “Come over here, baby.”
Feeling ridiculous, Ainsley shuffled close enough for him to pull her onto his lap. Strong arms enveloped her waist and she leaned against him. “I’m sorry.”
He kissed her forehead. “What for?”
“For being such a girl, I guess.” She’d never been such an emotional basket case before. It set off all kinds of warning bells in her head. She needed to focus. Keep it about the sex and the friendly companionship they had—while they had it.
“Don’t ever apologize for that, baby. In case you haven’t noticed, I like the fact you’re a girl.” He lifted her chin until she looked at him. “I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but you can talk to me if there’s something bothering you.”
“I’m good, really.” She captured his bottom lip, suckled it until he groaned and pulled back.
“Nice distraction technique, Ains. If I didn’t have to go, it might’ve even worked.” He stood, holding her against him until she found her footing. “You feel like going out tonight? We could head over to Slick’s. Have a bite to eat, a few drinks?”
“Sure, okay. Should I meet you there, or do you want to pick me up?”
“It’s customary for the man to pick up his girl when they have a date. Give me until about eight, okay?”
He kissed her, slow and easy. “Thanks for breakfast.” He stared down at her as though he had more to say. Heart in her throat, she waited him out. Finally, he nodded once and let her go. “Tonight then. Enjoy your day, baby.”
As she watched him leave, Ainsley had the feeling their conversation was far from over.
Chapter Eleven
By the time they got to Slick’s, the Saturday night crowd was in full swing and Clay was starving.
Ainsley had been quiet on the way into town, alerting him the storm from this morning hadn’t passed. Not so much on his part either. She was trying to pull away from him; he could feel it. What he didn’t know was why.
The idea Ainsley thought he’d fuck other women while he was actively pursuing her stuck in his craw. He’d willingly admit he hadn’t lived like a saint. But Jesus Christ, did she really believe he was that big of an asshole?
Where the hell had he gone wrong?
Oh gee, perhaps the part where you’ve been lying to her?
Clay slammed down hard on that train of thought.
How he felt about Ainsley wasn’t a goddamned lie. Nothing about what they’d shared between them was a lie. He kept his motives for checking out her property quiet to protect her. If his plan worked, she’d thank him. If not, she’d never be the wiser, never feel the disappointment.
Oh, the irony.
He expected Ainsley to trust him, to open up, talk to him, and he hadn’t given her the same courtesy. It was too soon to commit to anything long-term, but Clay knew what he wanted. Had since the first moment he’d spotted her. Following his instincts had served him well, and everything about Ainsley had his brain shouting mine! He figured he’d keep that little tidbit to himself for a bit, but easing her mind about who he’d share a bed with seemed imperative.
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