Cowboy 12 Pack
Page 131
She smacked him. “I knew what you meant.”
“It’s a beautiful day. Cody has some awesome trails.” One, in particular, that led to a secluded pond. If he was charming enough, he might convince her to skinny-dip with him.
“That sounds like fun. But Ford?”
“Yeah?”
“In the interest of full disclosure, I should probably tell you…”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m on a mission to distract you. You know. So Porsche can have fun without you looking over her shoulder.”
He grinned. “You are pretty distracting.”
“Thank you.” She gave a little curtsy.
They stepped into the barn and a couple of the horses turned their heads and greeted them with snuffles.
“What do you think about the mare?” he asked, petting her muzzle. She shook her mane and showered him with a wet snort.
“She’s a pretty girl. But what about this guy?” She wandered up to the stallion’s stall and rubbed his nose. Ford leaped forward and grabbed her hand. Dancer was known for nipping.
“He’s a little wild. Maybe the gelding?” He thrust a thumb at the younger horse standing passively in his stall.
Crystal’s nose curled with something that might have been disdain. She petted Dancer again. He nudged her shoulder with his long snout. “I like this guy.”
Ford chuckled. “I think we better start out slow, don’t you? The mare is trained for trail rides and used to inexperienced riders.”
“Is she?”
He had no idea what that dry tone meant, but it sounded a lot like Porsche’s pout when she didn’t get her way. But if he was going to take Crystal out for a ride, he was going to make damn sure she was safe…and on a mount she could handle.
“I’ll saddle them up for us,” he said.
“The stallion?”
“No, honey. The mare.”
CRYSTAL FORCED BACK a frown. He might as well pat her on the head.
Porsche was right. He was overprotective. And she would appreciate it, if she hadn’t really wanted to ride the stallion. He seemed spirited and game for anything. Still…it had been a long time since she’d ridden. It would be a delight, even on a tame mare.
And though, clearly, Ford thought she was a hopeless city girl who couldn’t even saddle her own horse, she decided not to disabuse him of the notion. She leaned back on a bale of hay and watched him work as he tossed the blanket and saddle over the mare and then saddled up the gelding. He was, she found, fascinating to watch. It wasn’t just that he dressed the part, and it wasn’t that his face and form were scintillating, but she liked the way he moved with a calm assurance, the confidence of a man who had done this often, every day, for years.
When he finished, he turned to her with a smile. “Ready?”
Was she ever. She bounded to her feet and greeted the mare again, petting her muzzle. “Are you ready, girl?” The horse snorted in response and Crystal chuckled. She’d always thought horses were much smarter than people gave them credit for. And she always made sure she respected the creature she rode.
“Can I help you up?”
She didn’t need help mounting a horse, but with his hands on her hips, she wasn’t going to demur.
“Put your foot here.” He touched the stirrup and though she knew damn well where to put her foot, she did so without comment. It was kind of fun, pretending to know nothing, although to be honest, her motivation stemmed from the assumptions he was making about her. Assumptions that provoked her.
But how sweet would it be to prove him wrong?
She let him take the lead as they made their way down the trail through the meadow. He set a slow pace, and though she wanted to put heels to the mare and ride like the wind, she followed. As they rode, he talked about the area, his ranch and the small town of Snake Gully. It all sent pings of longing through her, because it reminded her so much of home. He asked her about Dallas and her life there, and she told him about the business she and her friends had started, her apartment—as exciting as that was—and some of the annoyances of living in a huge metropolis.
It was a gorgeous day, and the company was wonderful. And she was astride a horse. She couldn’t have been happier.
He took a turn and they headed into a stand of trees. She enjoyed the dappled sunlight through the leaves, the cool breeze on her cheeks and the scent of the loamy woods. A smile curled on her face.
“Having fun?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. This is lovely.”
“There’s a pond down this way.” He gestured to the left. “Are you interested in a swim?”
She chuckled. “I didn’t bring a suit.”
His eyes twinkled. “Neither did I.”
A shiver skittered up her spine. “Are you suggesting we go skinny-dipping?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“In the middle of the morning?”
“It’s nearly afternoon.”
Not hardly. But she had to admit the prospect had appeal. Seeing his body splayed out before her… “In broad daylight?”
His expression was naughty. She liked it. “No one will see us. Trust me. Other than Cody, they’re probably all still recuperating from last night. If the hooting and hollering were any indication, the party went on until the wee hours.”
“Is it a secluded spot?”
“Very.”
Something trilled through her. It tasted like anticipation, that and great joy. Freedom. Release from the bonds that had held her hostage for far too long. It was a beautiful day and he was a beautiful man and while she knew it was only for the weekend—after that she would never see him again—she couldn’t allow herself to miss a minute of this adventure.
She nibbled back her smile and said, “We’ll see.”
“We’ll see?”
“We’ll see if you can convince me.” And then she set her heels, as she’d been longing to do, and let the mare fly over the ground, pounding along the path in a reckless flight, dodging low-hanging branches, leaping over fallen logs and tearing up the loam on the path.
She was aware of his concerned cry, of the hooves beating the ground in pursuit, and she hunkered lower and urged her mount on. He caught her of course, but not until she reached the clearing surrounding a sparkling pond, and slowed.
Her breath snagged in her throat at the sight. It was secluded and lovely and very tempting. The sun shafted through the trees, licking the water and sending diamonds dancing over the surface.
Ford’s gelding came to a halt beside her and he grabbed her reins. To her surprise, his eyes were wide, his nostrils flared. “Are you okay?”
Okay? It had been glorious.
She burst out in laughter, aware that the sound made him start, made his gaze snap to her lips. “Of course I’m okay.” She shot him a smirk and slipped from the saddle like a pro.
His eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You’re no newbie.” He dismounted as well and stalked around the mare to her side. “You know how to ride?” This in an accusing tone.
“Of course I know how to ride. Who doesn’t?”
“Oh, my God.” He raked his hair. “You scared me half to death when you took off like that. I thought your mare had bolted.”
“She wouldn’t do that. Would you, sweetums?” Crystal stroked the mare on the muzzle; she snorted and shook her head. “Of course not.”
She peeped at Ford. His expression was fierce, but it softened a little when she grinned at him.
“You scared me half to death,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “But you deserved a scare.”
“I did?” he squawked. “What did I do?”
She grunted as she led the mare to a soft patch of grass on the far side of the pond and hobbled her. “You were treating me like a moron.”
“I was not!”
“You were.” She propped her fists on her hips as he secured his horse as well. “You assumed I didn’t know anythin
g about horses. You assumed I was a helpless city girl.”
“You live in the city.”
“I haven’t always lived in the city. And that is beside the point.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” She blew out a breath. “You didn’t even ask me if I knew how to ride.”
A red tide crept up his face. “I probably should have asked.”
“You probably should.” Her smile was wicked. “It was cute the way you explained everything to me though.”
“You must have thought I was a complete jerk.”
Her heart wrenched as contrition flooded her. She shouldn’t be teasing him like this. His only failing was that he had jumped to assumptions. And he had been very conciliatory. “No. I didn’t think that at all. I thought you were charming. And honestly…I probably should have said something.”
He took her hand and they walked through the foliage to the pond. It was surrounded by a rocky escarpment on one side, which shielded it from the path. “How long have you been riding?”
“All my life.”
“All your life?”
“I was raised on a farm.”
“Really?” He raised a brow. “Bet you couldn’t wait to get away.”
“On the contrary. I miss it terribly.”
“Do you ever go home?”
“There’s no home to go to. It was sold off when my dad died. It’s a housing development now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. It was rough. But hey. I made a new life for myself. Great business. Great friends. Just…different.”
“So…you’re a country girl at heart?”
She didn’t understand the tone of his voice. “I suppose.” She shot him a smile and something in his features released. He smiled back.
“So…country girl,” he said, pulling her closer and settling his body against hers. “What do you say to a swim?”
“It does look inviting.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“And there is no one else around.”
“Not a soul.”
“All right.”
Crazy? Foolish? Silly? Probably.
She didn’t care.
Chapter Seven
‡
AND WHEN HE stepped back and—holding her attention—whipped off his shirt, she cared even less.
Oh, yeah, it had only been this morning, but it had been far too long since she’d seen him, touched him. Somehow he was in her blood. A sizzling need raced through her and she set her palm on his chest, exploring the fascinating landscape of muscles, skin and hair.
He chuckled and caught her wrist. “Don’t start anything.”
“Was I starting something?”
“I think you were.” He tipped his head and added in a low voice, “You did want to go for a swim, didn’t you?”
“Or something.”
“Well, if you keep that up, we’ll never make it into the water.”
The implication—of exactly where they’d end up—snarled in her belly. Memories of the glory of this morning rocked her. The thought of doing it again, of doing that again, was beyond tempting.
She shot him a wicked grin and something flashed in his eyes, a resonance, an understanding. They weren’t going to make it into the water.
He fiddled with the buttons on her blouse. “Regardless, you need to keep up.”
“Keep up?” Her breath caught as he undid one, then another, then another, revealing her breasts. But what really got her, what sent a bolt of electricity through her, was the expression on his face. As he stared at her, his jaw firmed. He cupped her, skimming rough pads of his thumbs over her nipples, and even as sensation screamed through her, his nostrils flared. His arousal was blatant, bestial and fierce.
When his gaze lifted to meet and tangle with hers, her pulse thrummed, her knees locked.
It was as though the world wafted away. The birds chattering in the trees, the rustle of the breeze, the snuffle of the horses, faded. It was only the two of them. The connection. The warmth of his hands on her. His smile.
He scudded lower, scraping his palm over her ribs and waist, studying her, soaking her in. Her skin rippled with pleasure.
This morning it had been hard, hot and fast, but this…this was slower, sweeter, a delicious orgy of sensation.
As he stroked her, she stroked him, meeting him caress for caress. When he eased her blouse off, she helped, shaking it to the ground in an unheeded pile. Her bra followed and—
He froze. His attention locked on. He hissed out a breath. “Jesus, Crystal.”
She shuddered as he took her breasts, touched her, skin to skin. This time there was a tremble in his touch as he worshiped her. He bent his head and kissed the areola, just to the side of one nipple. It was gentle. Sweet. Reverent.
It annoyed her.
She wanted to feel his mouth on her. Now.
She nested her fingers in his hair and attempted to direct his head where it belonged and he chuckled. He didn’t comply, but he did circle the other nipple. He circled it until it stood out in an aching bundle. She tightened her hold and he chuckled again.
“Stop teasing me.”
He glanced up. “I’m not teasing you.”
“Aren’t you?”
His smile was unrepentant. “I’m teasing me.”
That hit her and hit her hard, the weight of his words staggering her. Revealing that he indeed wanted this as much as she. “You like being teased?” she asked, yes, in a teasing voice, though it was slightly rough.
He stilled. A flicker of something—trepidation, perhaps—crossed his face. “I…ah…sometimes.”
Resolve and mischief and need danced within her. “Lie down. I’ll tease you.”
His throat worked. “I didn’t mean now—”
She glowered. “Lie down.” She invested the words with a commanding tone, which seemed to baffle him, but he complied, quickly grabbing the blanket from the saddle and settling it in a small clearing surrounded by bushes. Even though there was no one here, she appreciated the privacy. Making love in the absolute open would inhibit her, and she did not want to be inhibited. Not now. Not with him.
He lounged back on the blanket, rested his head on his hands and stared up at her. “Well?”
He was so beautiful, lying there. With his chest bared, his muscles bunched, his expression hopeful. She knelt at his feet and he peeped up so he could see what she was doing.
What she was doing was removing his boots.
It took her a while because they were pretty tight and in the end he helped, sitting up and yanking them off in a heated rush. That he tossed them heedlessly to the side spoke volumes. Because they were his boots.
Then he settled back again and, to her amusement, lifted his hips. Not in a blatant way. It was a nudge. A hint.
But she didn’t remove his jeans. Not yet. This was a tease. At least it would be until she achieved the result she wanted. Which was: Ford losing all control.
She smiled and sauntered closer and unzipped her jeans. His gaze was locked on her fingers, but it was restless and flicked up to her breasts with frequency. As she shimmied out of her pants, he shifted. When she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, his muscles locked. His attention snapped back down. His breath stalled.
Crystal shook her head and gave a little chuckle.
No. Panties stayed on.
This was a tease.
Instead of stripping completely, she knelt at his side and arranged his arms over his head. When he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her finger at him. “Don’t move.”
“Don’t move?”
“Not a muscle.”
“Oh, God,” he wailed, but she could tell, from the ferocious intensity of his features, he was enraptured.
There was something terribly thrilling about having a magnificent man like this sprawled out before her, hot, hard and enraptured. She could do whatever she wanted. Taste or touch or torment him…
And o
h. She did. It was glorious. She began with kisses on his chest and then, because she couldn’t not, stroked him as well. She loved the sensation of his skin, his bristly hair beneath her palm. She loved his smell, his heat, his essence. She sank into it, into him, exploring every fascinating bulge, every curve and jut. But always, and only, above the belt. It didn’t take long until he began twitching impatiently. Huffing sighs and biting back groans.
She edged up to place a kiss on his lips—and ah, how delicious that was. When she moved away, to continue her exploration, he tried to follow her lips. She smiled at him and shook her head.
“I think I like this,” she said. “This being in control.”
“You’re killing me, you know.”
“Am I?”
“Jesus. Look.” He arched his hips and she glanced at his crotch. The evidence was undeniable.
“Hmm,” she murmured, considering his impressive erection. “Maybe I should do something about that swelling.”
“Oh, do,” he grunted on a laugh.
But when she measured his length against her palm, he stopped laughing. The sound ended on something of an eep. She stroked him and his cock surged.
Her mouth watered; her pulse raced. Her clit began to ache and throb.
A wicked imp within her rose up. She shot him a naughty smile and levered her leg over his hips, straddling him. His eyes widened. His lips parted. He might have uttered, “Yes.” When she lowered herself onto the rock-hard lump in his jeans, his eyes crossed. “God, yes.”
“Do you like this, Ford?”
“Yes, Crystal.”
She rocked forward and the pressure, the friction of her sensitive clit against the steel of his erection and the rough pattern of his zipper, sent sensations careening through her. It was so good, she did it again and again, dry humping him there in the little clearing by a lovely lake as he lay beneath her, fists clenched and muscles tight.
She braced herself on his chest and rode him, rubbing herself to bliss, leaning forward to scrape her breasts against his chest and reveling in the harsh abrasion of his chest hair on her sensitive nipples.
Closer and closer, she came to heaven, using him as her whipping boy, her nipping boy. She raked him with her nails, lapped at the sweat beading on his brow and took. And took.