by Mari Carr
Her first kiss, and it was every bit as beautiful as the one he was giving her now, and she felt all those old feelings rekindled. His lips lightly grazed hers, reawakening feelings she thought had died with her husband. Soon his kiss became hungrier, hotter. She reached up, gripping his neck, making her own demands as she pulled him closer. He rasped his tongue against her lips and she opened her mouth, welcoming him in. His grip on her waist tightened and she sucked in a breath as his hands began moving upward, not stopping until he cupped her breasts.
The kiss continued as Jeb tweaked her nipples through her T-shirt. She spread her legs and began rubbing herself against his thigh. Her body was on fire. It had been so damn long since she felt the slightest spark of desire. She’d have to change her panties at the end of this interlude. She was too wet, too needy.
One of his hands left her breast, rising to grasp her ponytail. She shuddered when he pulled her head back, directing her with slight tugs on her hair, nipping her neck.
“It’s still there. Still the same,” he whispered against her skin. It had always been this way between them. One kiss and it was as if the entire world had gone up in flames. She struggled to pull away.
“No,” she whispered. He hesitated and she could sense him taking stock, trying to decide if she really meant her refusal. She battened down her hatches and pushed against his chest. “No.” Her voice was stronger this time. “This isn’t the time or place.” She glanced out into the yard, relieved none of the ranch hands had walked by and caught her making out with Jeb Carter in the doorway.
She was just so damn tired. It had weakened her resistance. Next time he tried to kiss her, she would be prepared, stronger, better able to fight him off.
“You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.” He studied her face and she knew he wasn’t discouraged by her pushing him away. If anything, giving in to his kisses had likely fueled his intentions to claim her…by any means necessary.
She shrugged. “It’s been a long month. Hell, a long year.”
He grasped her cheeks in his large palms but made no move to draw her closer. “You’re gonna hire me.”
He was relentless. She chuckled, then conceded. She needed help. “Maybe.”
The grin he offered in reply was cocky, smug, and she knew she’d lost this round. Jeb would get his way. “My duffel bag is in the car. Make room for my stuff in your closet.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’ll stay in the foreman’s cabin and my bedroom door will be locked—every night.”
“Maybe.” He walked back to his car and she wondered what the hell she’d just unleashed.
Chapter 2
Claire pulled a tray of cookies from the oven, wishing for the thousandth time she could find a decent cook. Slaving in the kitchen all day, cooking for eight men, was not her idea of a good time. Unfortunately her previous ranch foreman had been married to the cook.
Mr. and Mrs. Wilkerson had worked for her husband’s family for nearly thirty years and they’d been a godsend to her after Bobby’s death. They’d planned to retire months ago but had stayed on, helping her get her bearings as she dealt with her husband’s untimely passing.
Several weeks earlier, she’d convinced them to live their dream and move to Florida. She’d foolishly thought finding replacements for them would be easier than it had been. She’d hired a new foreman, Rafe, before they left, and she’d assured Mrs. Wilkerson a cook wouldn’t be far behind.
Rafe, however, had been a terrible man, verbally abusive toward the other hands, and she’d fired him after only two weeks on the job. Taking over that role as well had left her precious little time to hire anyone else and she’d tried to hold down the fort, running the ranch and cooking the meals—working eighteen-hour days just to keep up.
She had to admit, hiring Jeb had been the smartest and stupidest thing she’d ever done. He’d grown up in the area, so most of her ranch hands already knew him. They’d accepted him as their boss with very few questions asked.
Because of his success on the circuit, Jeb was also a bit of a local celebrity, which meant a few of her younger employees were eyeing him with not just respect, but hero-worship as well. Jeb got a kick out of teasing her with that fame, telling stories of his days with the rodeo at dinner each night while the other hands hung on his every word. She grinned at his shameless attempts to impress her and she wished to hell they hadn’t worked, but they had. She was as enthralled by his rodeo tales as the men were.
Regardless of his lack of experience, he did indeed know his way around a ranch and he’d taken to the role of foreman like a fish to water. His decisions were sound, he learned quickly and he was a hard worker. He’d taken a huge load off her shoulders, and for that she was grateful.
He’d also staked some sort of claim on her—and he made sure everyone knew it. They’d gone into town two days earlier to pick up some supplies and Jeb kept his arm draped around her waist during the entire excursion. No matter how many times she tried to step away from him, he somehow managed to keep her close. The gossip had spread through the town like wildfire that Jeb and Claire—the high-school sweethearts—were back together.
“Let me help you with that.” Jeb reached from behind her to take the plate of cookies out of her hands.
“I can carry them.” She knew she sounded petulant, but the man seemed hell-bent on coddling her.
He kissed her on the cheek and ignored her as usual, taking the plate. “Dinner was damn tasty and these cookies smell too good to share with those yahoos. What do you say you and I sneak out back and eat them all ourselves?”
She laughed. “There are three batches on that plate.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean. There’s really not enough here for you too. I suppose I could spare a couple, but no more than two.”
“Dining room.” She pointed toward the other room before picking up the coffeepot and snatching a cookie off the plate. She’d learned that on a ranch, she needed to grab fast if she wanted to eat. Jeb’s arrival with dessert proved that point as he was met with loud cheers.
The after-dinner conversation was always her favorite time of the day and she smiled as she watched Jeb interact with the other men. There was an instant camaraderie between them all that had made the last two weeks so much easier than the weeks preceding.
She listened as Jeb wove jokes and friendly conversation in with the list of chores awaiting them all the next day. While Bob had been exceedingly kind and patient, he’d also been far too serious, rarely laughing. She was struck once again by the innate differences between her late husband and the man who now sat in his chair, marveled at her attraction to two men who were so very dissimilar.
“There are some problems with the fencing over on the east field,” Jeb said. “We’ll have to repair it before we can move the cattle.”
She stretched her stiff neck slowly and tried to stifle a yawn, but Jeb’s gaze narrowed on hers and, as always, he saw right through her, clearly recognizing her exhaustion.
“All right. Back to the bunkhouse.” Jeb stood and the men followed suit. As she said goodnight, she mentally made a list of the chores left to do before she could fall into her bed.
She started carrying the dessert dishes to the kitchen, surprised to find Jeb behind her with the empty coffeepot and two cups.
“I can take care of this.” She took the cups from his hands and loaded them in the dishwasher.
“I’ll help.”
She nodded, wishing her traitorous body wouldn’t react so violently to his proximity. Her nipples were starting to protrude behind her T-shirt and just the thought of being alone with him had her pussy going damp. For two weeks she’d held him at bay, and for the most part Jeb had respected that distance and the limits she’d set. He’d stolen the occasional kiss, and more than a few times he’d grasped her hand to hold.
But, overall, he was wooing her slowly, letting her get to know him again, and while her mind appreciated that fact, her body was about to go
on a sex-starved rampage.
She walked to the sink, careful to keep her back to him. Scrubbing a pan, she left the chore of wiping up the counters to him. For several moments they worked silently, tidying up the kitchen.
She stiffened when he walked up behind her, his chest far too close to her back. His hands came up to grasp her waist.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Enjoying the show.” She glanced up at his comment and caught sight of the two of them reflected in the kitchen window. So much for hiding her body’s reaction. Her face was flushed, her breathing harsh and her nipples were erect and practically screaming, Here I am.
“God, I love your tits, Claire-bear.”
She scowled. “What’s the matter, Jeb? Couldn’t think of anything chauvinistic to say?”
Her tone dripped sarcasm but he didn’t take offense and she watched his grin grow bigger through his reflection. “I stand corrected. I love your big tits.” As he spoke he cupped her breasts, roughly kneading the sensitive globes. She resisted the urge to lean against his chest and let him have his way with her. She reached up, gripping his wrists to pull his hands away.
He shook his head. “Put your hands back on the counter.”
She froze for a moment, considering the commanding tone in his voice. It was the same one that had haunted her dreams for a dozen years. She’d grown complacent the past two weeks, assuming Jeb would continue his slow assault on her senses. Now, with a few words and touches, she knew the sand in that particular hourglass had run out. He was pressing his suit—Jeb-style.
“I won’t ask again,” he repeated when she failed to comply. “Put your hands on the counter.”
The same war she’d waged against herself years earlier began again. Her body was begging to obey, to jump through any hoop he set before her, while her head insisted giving anything to this man would be dangerous to her heart.
“You still think too much, darlin’.” He reached behind her and untied the apron that hung at her waist. “How ’bout I make it easy for you this first time?”
She wasn’t sure what he was talking about until he quickly grabbed her wrists, tying them securely behind her back with the apron strings.
“Jesus,” she muttered, struggling to free her hands.
“I was hard to beat in the tie-down roping competitions,” he joked, kissing her lightly on her cheek.
“Untie me.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Dammit, Jeb. Untie me right now.”
He turned her until she was facing him and pushed her back against the sink. She gripped the edge of the counter for support as he shoved her T-shirt above her breasts.
“Now where was I?” He roughly pulled her bra down, the tight, lacy material thrusting her breasts and nipples out. “Oh yeah. I was admiring the view.”
She gritted her teeth against his sensual assault when his lips landed on her areola, sucking and biting until she was crying out for more. Past experience had proven he wasn’t an easy lover. The gentleness she saw in him during their day-to-day activities would definitely melt away when it came to sex. It was one of the reasons she’d broken off their relationship when they were younger. His needs were too intense, too frightening. Not in the sense that she was afraid of being hurt, but more because her desires ran along the same lines and it scared her. How much would she surrender to him?
“God, Jeb,” she moaned when he sucked her nipple into his mouth. She wanted the use of her hands, wanted to be able to hold him to her, keep him latched to her all night long.
No, she thought. No. This was wrong. She was letting him take her over again. Letting him control her.
“Stop.”
As quickly as that, he moved away. He stood in front of her and she didn’t like what she saw on his face. Pure, naked, unleashed need. He wouldn’t be denied any longer.
“No.” He reached up to hold her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’m not stopping, Claire, and I’m not holding back. You want this as much as I do. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
She swallowed heavily and knew the lie lodged in her throat wouldn’t come out this time. She did want him. Wanted him with a passion that threatened to consume her until she was reduced to ash. She closed her eyes, unable to look into his chocolate brown gaze. “I do want you,” she whispered.
“Open your eyes. Open them and say that again. I wanna make sure you know who you’re talking to, who you’re inviting to your bed.”
She opened her eyes, narrowing them in response to his smug demand. “I know full well who I’m talking to, Jeb Carter. You’ve made no secret about the fact you want me, so what are you going to do about it?” Her words were laced with challenge.
She was tired of mourning, of waking up alone and sad. And she was tired of pretending she didn’t understand what Jeb wanted from her. She knew all too well what he would expect and she knew she’d give it to him. Her resistance was shot.
He grinned wickedly at her dare, and for a second she wondered if she’d pushed him too far.
Fuck it, she thought, and she smiled back.
Jeb tweaked her nipple with his forefinger and thumb, just a quick, firm pinch to remind her who was in charge. Then he took another step back and looked at her, his gaze traveling the length of her body. “You sure are one long, cool drink of water,” he drawled, and she laughed.
“Is that your nice way of saying I’m still too tall and skinny?”
He shook his head. “I like your height. You fit me.”
He was the only one she’d ever fit. She’d always hated her cursed height. While six feet wasn’t a bad thing on a man, it had made her a bit of a freak in high school, a time and place where no one ever wants to stand out as being different. She’d had Bob by two inches barefoot, though her husband never seemed to mind looking up at his wife.
And while she and Jeb didn’t see exactly eye to eye, she was definitely the one looking upward in this relationship. Jeb was six foot five and pushing two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. He actually made her feel small. The same had held true in high school and, if she was perfectly honest, she knew that was part of his initial appeal for her, part of the reason she’d succumbed to her first true teenage crush. Then he’d talked to her at homecoming and the crush had turned to full-fledged first love.
“Are you going to stand there staring all night? I have to admit I remember a bit more action from you when we were younger.” She wasn’t sure where she was finding the nerve to taunt Jeb so. In high school she’d been inexperienced and shy, perfectly willing to let him rule their relationship.
Part of her reason for resisting him so long had been the independent streak a mile wide that had woven itself through her body with the passing of time. She wasn’t a pushover and she wasn’t exactly submissive. All the more reason she should have kept her mouth shut about wanting him.
He placed his hand on her cheek. “Been waiting for this moment for a lot of years, darlin’. I intend to take my time, do it right.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not some skittish virgin anymore, Jeb. I don’t need the kid gloves.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I know damn well what you need, Claire. Don’t think for a second I don’t.”
He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her lower body toward his, pressing his denim-covered cock against her, letting her feel his erection. She licked her lips at the prospect of having all that rock-hard flesh filling her once again.
“You gave your virginity to me. I was your first lover and, if I’m not mistaken, I was your first act of true independence.”
“What do you mean?” She was confused by his comment, by his willingness to forgo the sex she was clearly offering to reminisce.
“When you broke things off with me, I saw the woman you were becoming for the first time.”
She snorted. “I don’t really think you saw anything that night. You were pissed as shit. You stalked away and punched a de
nt in the side of your truck.”
He shrugged, his face rueful. “Broke two knuckles. But after a few years I calmed down and realized you were right.”
“A few years?” she asked with a smile.
“You were a hard woman to get over.”
His words touched her heart and she felt the same stirrings she’d felt all those years ago. The same yearnings and feelings of fondness she’d locked tightly away during the years of her marriage. She cleared her throat, struggling to find some safe response that wouldn’t give her away. “Have to admit I like the sound of that you were right comment. You mind saying that again, so I can soak it in properly?”
Jeb reached around and playfully tugged her ponytail. “Just like a woman. Figures that would be the one part of my heartfelt confession you’d latch on to.”
Her grin grew. “I heard the rest too.”
Jeb’s face sobered as he spoke. “You’d have hated the rodeo and I would have hated ranch life back then. Too much wanderlust inside me. It was just as you said—we both had some growing up to do.”
“And now we’re grown up, so I’d like to suggest you either get the lead out and fuck me or untie me so I can finish the dishes.”
Jeb reached around her back and released the apron strings. Her heart crashed at his action. He’d changed his mind. Before she could let the pain of that thought sink in, Jeb dropped the apron and reached for the hem of her shirt. He had her shirt and bra lying on the floor by her feet in less than five seconds.
“Jeb—” she started.
“Kick off those boots and take off those jeans,” he demanded as he pulled his shirt over his head, adding it to the pile of clothes on the floor. “You’re gonna get more than fucked, Claire. You’re gonna get way more than fucked.”
Chapter 3
Jeb stared at the love of his life and tried to decide what to do first. It was clear the shy, sweet girl he’d loved back in school was gone, replaced by the sexy-as-shit, intelligent woman before him. His strong desires when they were younger were nothing compared to what he’d learned during the years he was away. Claire was going to get a hell of an education tonight.
