Ropin' Trouble (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 2)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  Her body clamped him as he moved in and out, sinking himself deeper and deeper, pulling out to his tip. He clenched his jaw hard and counted to ten—backward. Forward. He even sung a song inside his head. You are my sunshine, my only—

  Her fingers gripped his balls and he forgot where he was, who he was. He wouldn’t have been able to recite his address or his birthday. His body teetered on edge. He could control it…maybe. No. She was a vixen!

  Their bodies were locked together. Her legs were still wrapped tight around him as she rolled his balls in her palm. “Do you like that?”

  “Yessss!” The words hissed from his lips like a hot iron touching water.

  Their gazes met and she looked directly into him—into his soul. Her muscles grasped him, squeezing and molding. A lasso grabbing him by the horns. All restraint broke free and he slipped deeper and deeper, and he was a goner. The release came hard and bright, lightning fast. It came from a part of him buried within, emptying and raging like a forest fire, yet flowing like molasses.

  Minutes passed until he finally gained his lucidity and rolled to her side, dragging her along with him, keeping one arm around her slender waist. She nestled her head in the crook of his arm and together they lay there until their breathless pants became even.

  “That. Was. Awesome.” Her voice seemed muffled, coming through a tunnel.

  Ben couldn’t deny just how great it was. He still hadn’t gone flaccid and his mind hadn’t come down from the extraordinary. He didn’t even have an overwhelming desire to slip out of bed and break the cuddling session. Indeed, he didn’t want to move for fear she would. He could stay like this.

  She played with the small patch of hair on his chest, twirling the crisp curls around her fingers and the gentle action soothed him. He felt good, lying here with her, glorifying in the post-sex high. She moved her leg over his thighs and he swore he could feel her heart beat against his ribcage. He turned his cheek and inhaled her scent. Sugary cotton-candy. He could never get enough.

  Hell, he didn’t think he could get enough of anything about her.

  That was a hard pill to swallow. He didn’t have an ordinary life. Working here at Nirvana eliminated a lot of opportunity of having normalcy in his life. He had nothing to offer a woman like Cara. Nothing she needed. A woman like her wanted a man with a 9 to 5. A nice house with a white, picket fence. A family. Probably even a dog named Rover. He had a dog back home, Pete. He missed his Boxer. At times, he even missed his family. Cara would understand his pain, having a painful history of her own.

  But this wasn’t the time to spill his hidden guilt about Laura.

  There was something about a good orgasm that made people want to talk, and that’s why he never stayed and cuddled.

  He stared up at the ceiling. The dim light created shapes on the white tiles. The shadows metamorphosed into a house, and then a diamond ring. He rubbed his eyes. His heart thumped hard against his ribcage.

  So where was he headed?

  They’d made love. Nope, not ‘love.’ They’d had sex. Both of them had a sexual build-up and needed release. They were connected, by sexual chemistry only. He couldn’t mentally travel down dead- end roads.

  Cara was a lodger. He was a staff cowboy. Nothing more could happen between them but what they’d just shared. His life was here on a ranch that specialized in country living, in Wyoming. A whole world away from Texas, where she lived. They were miles and miles away from each other. They lived distant lives…on complete ends of the spectrum.

  She’d said something about moving. He bit his bottom lip. But she would want to start afresh, not with a cowboy who feared emotion.

  There was nothing wrong with indulging in the thought of having more with Cara. Fantasizing never hurt anyone as long as they kept a true sense of reality attached.

  “Why are you here at Nirvana, Ben? I know it’s beautiful here. The horses, the land, but this place is away from the real world—exactly what visitors are wanting for a short period of time to recuperate.” She was looking at him through the thick fringe of her lashes. Her bottom lip was slightly puckered. He guessed this was where she wanted to get to know him. She probably wouldn’t like what she found.

  “I’m a rancher.”

  “You know what I’m asking.”

  Yeah, he did. “Four years ago I packed a suitcase and headed out with no idea where I was going. I came across a buddy in a grimy diner off the highway where we’d both stopped to get out of a winter storm. We got to talking over a cup of coffee and he told me about a place hiring staff. A place called Nirvana. He told me all about it and I was hooked. We rode out here and the rest is history.”

  Chapter Eight

  Cara listened to the night sounds through the open window in Ben’s cabin. Crickets chirping. An owl hooting. Branches breaking along the edge of the woods. And nothing else, except Ben’s heartbeat in her ear. She liked the strong sound. It reminded her of the heavy beat of a warrior’s drum. She wanted to know more about him. After what they’d shared she needed to know more.

  “Were you running from something?” She lifted herself up so she could get a better view of his profile. He was staring at the ceiling, his thumb rhythmically rubbing the back of her arm.

  “Why would you ask that?” One corner of his mouth turned down.

  She shrugged. “Not that I think you’re a criminal on the loose. But I imagine you’re here, all of the cowboys are here, for the same reason lodgers are. It’s hidden away here, away from the demons that we eventually have to face.” She smoothed her fingers along the tight muscle of his bicep.

  A good three seconds passed. She thought he wouldn’t answer. “I’m certainly not a criminal. The worst thing I’ve ever done was tip a cow and toilet paper a house when I was a kid. My father would have skinned my hide if I’d messed in anything worse than teen mischief. We went to church every Sunday and the Bible sat on our coffee table. I was taught right from wrong. It’s simple why I’m here. A man like me has a strong desire for peace and serenity. I get that at Nirvana.”

  “And loneliness?”

  “Alone and loneliness are two different things.”

  “Yes, and are you lonely?”

  His grin was forced. “Of course not. I have you here.”

  “Again, you’re manipulating the question.”

  Every muscle in his body tensed. “If I said yes, what would be my options?”

  “I can’t answer that. Have you ever thought about your future? Having a family?”

  Something flickered in his gaze but she couldn’t read it. “I want a drink of water. Better yet, a beer. How about you?”

  “I’m good. So, you have a strong faith, huh?”

  “Yup. ” He got up and she watched him cross the room and her mouth dropped. He had raised, red stripes down his back. Were those left from her nails? She covered her mouth with her trembling fingers. He’d definitely managed to find her wilder side.

  He bent and reached into the small refrigerator, giving her a full on target for her roving eyes. Mm-mmm. His behind was firm and perfectly shaped. She imagined he was in the saddle a lot. He turned and her focus was on the very part of him that had brought her complete satisfaction moments ago. Oh wow…he twitched and was hard again!

  Quickly, she jerked her gaze to his face, knowing she flushed from roots to toenails. She had an urgency to jump out of bed and onto him, but that just wasn’t her…or was it? In one night she’d had a man between her legs—the best, and the only orgasm she’d ever had. And she’d left sex marks on him, marking her territory.

  He popped the lid to the long neck and the cap dropped to the floor, rolling under the bed. He took a long drink then set it on the nightstand before crawling back into bed.

  “What was that like, growing up in a religious family?” She nestled back against him and he held her in a tight embrace.

  “My dad was strict, but the best dad a boy could ask for. He taught me how to be a man.” His breath was warm
against her cheek.

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Here in Wyoming. A small town called Twin Oaks. We lived on a ranch that had been handed down three generations.” He played with a lock of her hair. “My dad handled many responsibilities.”

  “Ahh, ranching is in your blood.”

  “And how about you? Is vintage clothing in your blood?” He massaged her scalp.

  “Mm.” She wrapped her brain around his question while melting under his touch. “My mom was a seamstress, but I wouldn’t say it is in my blood. I once had dreams of becoming a lawyer, but life has a way of throwing up road blocks.”

  “Wow. A lawyer, huh? That’s a big dream, and I bet you would have been a great one. You do realize you’re young enough to pursue anything you want?”

  She smiled. “I think that ship has passed.”

  “Was your dad a lawyer?”

  “He was a police officer. We also went to church every Sunday and life was good, happy. He died when I was ten. Life changed drastically after that.” His heart picked up speed and his hand stopped moving in her hair. She lifted her chin, looking up at him. His jaw was tight and his eyes were narrowed. “You okay?”

  “Just absorbing how terrible that must have been for you to lose a loved one, especially so young.” There was a new thickness to his voice.

  “It was difficult, especially for my mom who became responsible for everything.”

  He rolled over, facing her, cupping her chin in his palm. “You must have had great parents. They have a loving, sweet, beautiful daughter.” He kissed the tip of her nose and her heart swelled. His hand dropped to her bare bottom and she squirmed.

  “Do you like blow jobs?” she asked without inhibition.

  His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly. “What?” His voice was husky and low.

  “Blow jobs?”

  “If I said no, I’d be lying.”

  “I’d like to practice. Do you mind?”

  “Do I mind?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Is that a trick question?”

  “I’m not very good. I don’t know if I have the skill enough to make you—well—you know.” She wasn’t sure why she found it so easy to talk to him and admit her flaws.

  “Sweetheart, I’m not sure there’s such a thing as a bad blow job, unless you use your teeth. A little gentle nibbling can be okay, but biting is a no-no. That’s a danger to the jewels.”

  “Okay, no biting. I’ve got that.” She winked. He was already hard and she smiled, licking her lips at the mere thought of having him in her mouth. Wrapping her fingers around his girth, she slipped her palm up his length and slowly downward. “So, rubbing is good?”

  “Oh, yes. Rubbing is definitely good.” He exhaled and treaded his fingers through her hair.

  Slipping her tongue over the bead of pre-cum at his tip, he sucked in a breath. “I’ll take that as a plus.” She looked up at him.

  “Good,” he practically hissed the word.

  “And, how about suckling?” She opened her mouth over his head, sucking and licking. His muscles tightened.

  “Real good.” His voice was a low murmur.

  “You’re a big man, Ben. I wonder how far I can get you inside of my mouth.” She took him deep and moaned. She sucked him in and out, rolling her tongue along the thick vein along his length. She clasped his balls in her palm and gently squeezed. His moan skidded through the silence. Yeah, she believed giving a blow job—in particular to sexy, brawny Ben—would be something she could get used to.

  “Baby, as good as this feels, I want you. I want to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock. I want you to cum all over me and scream my name.”

  Climbing up on knees, she reached for one of the foil packets from the nightstand, ripped it open and quickly slipped the sheath on him. She crawled over him, situated her parted thighs above his hard body and slid her opening over him. She grabbed the headboard and steadied herself, thrusting up and down on him. “I-I like this position. You’re so deep,” she whimpered.

  “Yes, baby. Deep.” He clutched her bottom and pounded himself against her. She cried out his name. “I love to hear my name come from those lovely lips.”

  Taking on a fast rhythm, the bedsprings squeaked and the headboard struck the wall hard. “I’m moving too fast, making too much noise.”

  He moaned. “No, don’t stop. Perfect. Exactly right.”

  She continued riding him until pulses of tingles washed through her. Cara laid on his chest, clutching his shoulders and rode the waves. Together they moved until satisfaction rolled over them, through them…and they lay spent.

  Chapter Nine

  Cara awoke with warmth on her bare thigh. She fluttered her eyes open, hoping it was Ben but instead it was the sun filtering through the open window. She found the spot next to her empty. She ran her hand over the sheet and it was cold. Ben had been gone for a while. Disappointment filled her.

  She pushed up on her elbow, rubbed the remaining blurriness from her eyes and scanned the room, spotting the clock on the wall. Eight-thirty.

  She couldn’t believe she hadn’t woke up when he got out of bed, but then again, she’d been exhausted and was spent by the time they’d called it a night. After using the last condom, they’d fallen asleep with her tucked in the crook of his arm.

  And to her surprise, she hadn’t woken up from a single nightmare. Maybe the demons were finally leaving the recesses of her mind.

  Ben brought her more encouragement than she could ever imagine. He was gentle, kind and giving in bed.

  But where was her cowboy this morning?

  As if on cue, the door opened and in strolled Mr. Sexy. He pulled off his hat and tossed it onto the chair that was already covered in clothes. He wasn’t the best housekeeper, but living under tight organization for so long, she didn’t care one bit if he had laundry on the floor, the toilet seat up or cobwebs in the corner. In the end, those things didn’t matter to her.

  “Well, well, lookie who is awake.” His smile was dazzling and his eyes twinkled. He held up a small white bag and shook it.

  “More condoms?” Her stomach fluttered and her inner thighs moistened.

  “I’ve turned you into a sex maniac.” He laughed. “This is breakfast, considering we both need nourishment. And caffeine. Lots of it.” He dropped the bag on the end of the bed and crossed to the small makeshift counter to the coffee maker.

  “I could use coffee.”

  “I’ll have us set in no time at all.”

  “I bet you will.” She sat up, covering her chest with the sheet, watching him move with such grace for a brawny, tough man. “Do you really think I’m a sex maniac?” Was that a bad thing? Of course, maniac wasn’t a good thing…she didn’t think. Either way, she was confused.

  “That was meant as a compliment.” He turned and winked. “I do believe I’ve opened the locked door to the treasure chest. I’m happy to help in any way I can.” His smile grew.

  “I will admit, I woke up looking for you.”

  “I had early morning chores. I wanted to stay, more than you can imagine.”

  She pushed her fingers through her hair, realizing it must be a mess. “You can’t stop working just because I’m in your bed. I guess it was a bit presumptuous of me to think you grabbed more condoms.”

  He leaned against the counter and said huskily, “Last night was great. Hell, better than great. However, I didn’t want to make you think all I wanted was sex so I didn’t know if grabbing more condoms was appropriate. But since you mentioned it first,” he reached into the waistband of his jeans and produced a box. “Will fifty be enough?”

  Her toes curled and she wagged her brows. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “I like the way you think.” Once the coffee was done, he poured two foam cups full and sat down beside her on the bed, handing her one cup. “I don’t have any real cups and I’d offer milk and sugar, but I’m afraid I don’t have those either. I bet you like mochas or iced coffee.”
<
br />   “Black is fine. It’ll be pure caffeine to the bloodstream.” She sipped the brew and it was definitely a shot to the circulation. The cowboy liked his coffee rich, for sure. “What’s for breakfast?”

  He grabbed the bag and placed it into her lap. “Motley’s croissant. It’ll melt in your mouth.”

  She opened the top and peeked in, the crusty aroma made her belly growl. “But there’s only one.”

  “I ate already. The guys and I have an early morning breakfast, work our chores and then later, Motley prepares a bigger breakfast. If I didn’t keep busy, I’d be as big as a house.”

  She bit into the buttery bread and savored the delicious goodness. “This is good. The chef has talent.” She rinsed it down with a large drink of coffee. “So you’ve already done chores? That’s why you were up early?” At least it wasn’t to get away from her.

  He nodded. “Bright and early this morning. Still have a few chores left, but I wanted to stop in and see if you’re doing okay.”

  “I guess I should hurry, get dressed and head back to the treehouse.” She started to move when he laid a hand on her knee. She looked up at him as a lump formed in her throat.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?”

  She shrugged. “Just figured you’d want me to go. You’re busy and have things to do.”

  “Only if you wish to go, but I like this, having coffee together.” The sincerity in his tone and pale eyes made her heart jump.

  “I like drinking our coffee together too. Thank you. Especially for thinking of me, the croissant and all.” She ate in silence, finished the last bite and last bit of coffee.

  “I have something else for you.” He stood up and threw his empty cup into the trash bin.

  She blinked. “You do? For me?”

  He chuckled. “Yes. I know it’s not your style, but everyone on a ranch needs them.”