by Sasha Burke
I’ve been a complete gentleman (really, I have).
On the plus side, I’ve been able to save tons on hot water since cold showers are all I take anymore. But on the negative, my concentration’s been total shit. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I asked if you’re going to miss having him next door.”
I give her the blunt truth. “That cranky grouch has been giving me a hard time from the day I put a bid on this ranch, and he’s been riding me ever since, offering his curmudgeonly two cents on how I’m running things nearly every day. Call me a sentimental bastard but I don’t like knowing he’s going to be off somewhere being a pain in someone else’s ass from now on.”
Misty-eyed over my candidness, she smiles. “I think he’s going to miss you, too.”
Ah, hell. Not really one for these touchy-feely talks, I pull out the small cauliflower-looking rock I’ve had in my pocket all day and segue not at all smoothly, “Before I forget, I found this earlier. I think it’s a geode, but I’m not sure. Thought you might want to lick it or something.”
Her eyes widen and she races past me to get to her backpack, squeaking when she begins hydroplaning across the wet floor and crashes right into the wall like a flattened cartoon character.
“Think I loosened a filling with that one,” she mutters, peeling herself off the drywall.
Before she can knock herself out by accident, or worse, I gently push her into a dining chair and go retrieve her bag for her while she studies the rock, staring at it like it’s the moon itself.
Then for the next few minutes, I watch her use a bunch of little tools to listen—yes, listen—to the rock, after which, she goes rummaging excitedly through her seemingly bottomless bag for some vice grips, clamps, and (I kid you not) a handheld rotary saw.
“Over my dead body,” I bark, snatching the battery pack before she can power the saw up. It may look like an oversize Dremel, but this is Katelyn we’re talking about, and the blade is big enough to cut through bone. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you operate that.”
Her brows stitch together in confusion. “Why not? It’s perfectly safe. I use it all the time.”
And she still has all her fingers? “I thought you use hammers and chisels to crack these things open.” I grab a mini mallet from her side pocket. “Here. Go nuts.”
“If it’s not a hollow geode, which it doesn’t sound like this is, that method will crush it into pieces.” Shrugging, she gives the hand tool back to me and stands. “I keep a table saw in my SUV. I don’t usually lug it out for any specimens smaller than a softball, but if it makes you feel better…”
I think I’m getting a migraine. “How about you teach me how, and I cut it?” I offer.
She lights up. “You really want to learn about this stuff?”
“With you teaching? Yeah,” I reply honestly. And if it saves us an ER visit, all the better.
“Hey, Boss,” crackles in Jonah over the two-way radio in my back pocket, abruptly filling the room with sounds of escalating chaos going on outside. “Sorry to bother you but we need you out here. The irrigation system’s giving us bigger problems than I thought.”
For fuck’s sake, four years later and I’m still having issues with the crap work the owner before me did around the ranch. I shoot Katelyn a silent apology. “Damn it, I got to check on this.”
She cuts me off with a shooing motion toward the door. “I already overheard the guys were having some trouble with the drainage over at the pastures when I was walking the twins home.” Untying her apron, she grabs my keys off the wall and yanks on her rubber boots. “I don’t have a whole lot of agricultural geology knowledge, and I never got into the water management areas of study in my program, but, I do know land so why don’t I tag along and see if I can help at all.”
With that, she goes and climbs in the driver’s seat of my truck. “I’ll drive so you can eat,” she calls out, plopping a sandwich she’d already packed in plastic wrap for me onto the dashboard before proceeding to mess with my mirrors and seat settings, just like last time.
Stomach growling and mouth all but drooling, I unwrap what appears to be a Thanksgiving dinner between two homemade slices of bread. Good lord. My fault for giving into my curiosity.
Though it pains me to do it (it really does), I wrap the fantasy feast back up and return it to the dashboard, untouched for the time being.
“What’s wrong?” she asks quizzically as she reverses the truck out. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Between cooking, cleaning, entertaining Winston’s grandkids, and Lord knows what else, did you get a chance to eat today?” At her negligent shoulder lift, I scowl. “You’re doing too much for us around here and not taking care of yourself. Pull over. I’m driving you back to the house so you can eat and have some down time before everyone comes in for supper.”
Amazingly, she does exactly as I ask and stops the truck right then and there. But, instead of swapping seats with me, she stays put and quickly reaches for my sandwich. Eyes locked on mine the entire time, she unwraps it and lifts it up to her now parted lips.
Instantly, my cock is as stiff as a spike.
Hearing the tiny sigh she makes as she chews the bite she’s taken shouldn’t be turning me on this much, but for some bizarre reason, it is.
“There, better?” She brushes the stray crumbs from her lips and hands the rest of the sandwich to me before shifting the truck back into drive. “Now I’ve eaten today. Your turn.”
Jesus Christ, I just got a hard-on watching the woman steal some of my food.
Well, that settles it.
I’ve definitely got it way worse for her than my dogs and men combined.
12
| Katelyn |
I know what I said about not having any interest in the areas of geology that farmers and ranchers often hire experts for, but I have to admit, working with the guys on their irrigation problems last night was pretty interesting. So much so that after we got back here, I didn’t even go up and change out of dirty clothes before grabbing my laptop and researching the topic online, reading article after article until I fell asleep on the couch.
Of course, come morning, I woke up all warm and snuggly in the upstairs bedroom.
Honestly, I’m not sure which version of Cade affects me more. The bossy caveman who throws me over his shoulder and cuffs me. Or the stubborn gentleman who takes off the clothes I’d been wearing out in the fields—but not my underwear—before tucking me in with the sweetest note ever to wake up to.
FYI, I deserve a friggin’ medal for keeping my eyes averted the whole time.
Even more evil than my getting a tiny thrill from reading that tormented message? Knowing that if the positions were reversed, my eyes wouldn’t have obeyed nearly as well.
And that’s why I’m back on the same couch reading again after a long morning working at the fabric store and a fabulous marathon rock finding session all afternoon. Only this time, I’m determined to stay awake until he comes home.
“Hey. You waiting up for me?”
At the sound of Cade’s deep, masculine voice filling the living room, I quickly sit up and immediately turn to greet him, the chapter I’d been glued to in one of my mineral textbooks now completely forgotten. Along with my surroundings.
And pesky little things like gravity.
For what feels like a full second there, I’m like those cartoon characters suspended in the air for dramatic effect before I drop, tumbling right over the edge of the couch onto the floor.
Cade gets to me in a few quick strides, with a sighing headshake. “Am I going to have to put some restraints on the sofa now, too?”
He sounds like he’s only half-kidding. And that makes my imagination go into overdrive.
Chuckling heatedly as if reading my thoughts, he scoops me up and places me back on the couch, his lips warm against my skin as he kisses my cheek in greeting. Just…perfectly.
See, now why can’t I do s
tuff like that? Everything Cade does is just so effortlessly sexy. I want to be able to do that—affect him the way he affects me.
Inspired now, I quickly rearrange myself so I’m kneeling on the couch facing him.
The plan? A suggestive response involving the use of his belt as said restraints, followed by my literally seducing the pants off him. I’ve got it all worked out.
But before I even have a chance to launch my genius plan of seduction, somehow, my foot gets caught between the couch cushions just as good ole gravity starts messing with me again.
I teeter wildly off balance—seriously, I’m starting to think this sofa may not be on a level foundation—and before I know it, I’m pitching forward, on target for a direct head-on collision with his family jewels.
Miraculously, he manages to catch me by the shoulders before I can do any permanent physical damage to his future generations.
The universe, however, decides my dignity can still handle a few more blows. So, it chooses that very moment to snag my hair in the fly of his jeans, tethering me like a bungee cord and sending my head snapping forward once more.
I’m lucky I didn’t give myself a black eye on his buckle in the process.
This time, he keeps his hands firmly on my shoulders as I attempt to detangle myself from his crotch. I don’t even want to think about the picture we must make right now.
It takes me two tries, but I finally manage to yank my hair free. Of course, concerned guy that he is, he’s been bent over trying to help all this time. Which means…
The crack of bone hitting bone echoes in the silent room when my skull rams into his chin.
I gasp, mortified. “I am so sorry!” I shoot upright and cradle his face with both hands, checking him for possible quake-like damage to his facial structure because let’s face it, I’m definitely more hard-headed than the average Jane.
Worried as I am about his injuries, it’s impossible to keep from getting distracted by the rough and gruff beauty of Cade up close. The man is all rugged ridges and granite-hard features. And the second my fingertips brush over his jawline, for some reason, he goes still as stone.
“Let me get you some ice,” I offer, finding a way to eventually blink out of my trance.
Scrambling off the couch, I start heading to the kitchen. But he snags me gently by the waist before I can get too far. “I don’t think so, sugar. No way I’m letting you run off after I’ve finally got you looking at me the way you look at your rocks.”
With that rumbled decree, he brings me in close. Tries to at least.
Halfway there, I trip over my fallen textbook and stumble over my own feet before smacking my head on the sofa and landing in graceless heap on the rug.
At this point, I just stay down. I make a point to put my arm over my eyes so Cade doesn’t think I’ve lost consciousness or anything, but beyond that, I don’t attempt to get up. Or open my eyes. Clearly, this is one of those times where I just have to wait for tomorrow to come so I can put this whole embarrassing night behind me. So, I get comfy right there on the floor and start counting down the hours until the sun comes up.
The last thing I expect is for Cade to drop down on the floor right next to me.
I feel him settle on his side, his hard chest flush against my arm. And he doesn’t say a word.
It takes me a bit to get over my surprise, but when I do, that’s when it registers that his chest isn’t the only thing flush and hard against me.
Now that’s just not playing fair.
I somehow find the stubborn strength to stay perfectly still…ignoring the rabid impulse I have to rub up against his long, hard length like a cat in heat.
Call me crazy, but I think I can hear him smiling in silence.
He stays like that for several minutes. Waiting me out.
“Why are you so patient with me?” I ask finally, breaking first.
“Beats the hell out of me,” he replies.
Okay, that’s definitely a smile I hear in his voice.
Feeling the baseball bat still parked firmly against my hip, I throw another stumper at him. “And why in the world are you so hard right now?”
“That one’s easy. Because I find you sexy as hell, woman.”
Ha! “I was like the Tasmanian She-Devil just now. Seriously. Worst. Seduction. Ever.”
His whole body stills against me as he asks in a dangerously sexy rasp, “You were trying to seduce me tonight?”
Jeez, what does a girl have to do to get a sun-up restart around here? I snap my mouth shut and reassume my original yoga pose of upward facing possum.
His amused lips brush over my shoulder gently. “Fine. We’ll revisit that question later. For now, at least open your eyes so I can make sure you haven’t sustained a head injury.”
I only half-comply, peeking through one barely-lifted lid to see if he’s laughing at me.
He is. But not in a mean way. More in an affectionate way. Which he keeps right on doing as he brings his mouth down on mine.
Lordy can this man kiss. In no time at all, he’s got me breathless and boneless and cradled fully in his arms as he picks me up off the ground.
“How’s your head? Still sore?”
“Hmmm?” I manage, wondering why he’s asking about my head when the part of me that’s aching is somewhere else entirely.
“Use your words, Katelyn. Or I’m going to carry you to the ER instead of upstairs.”
“I’m fine,” I reassure him quickly. “It was just the cushion, I hit. No hard edges.”
He studies me for a beat before nodding and pivoting away from the front door and over to the staircase instead. “I hear,” he says in a conversational tone as he takes the steps two at a time, “that it’s important to make sure you stay awake after a head injury.”
I’ve read that, yes. And knowing that I actually have that for the first time in a long while is more than I thought I’d ever have again.
He stares at me intently as he lays me down on his bed, his hands gentle per usual, a sweet contrast to his searching gaze that’s blazing as hot as I’ve ever seen it. That banked heat slowly searing me from the inside out is starting to become his new norm when he looks at me.
I can’t get enough of it.
“You going to let me take care of you, baby?” he asks, his lips whispered against my neck. The inside of my wrist. Down over the exposed sliver of skin just above the waistband of my PJs.
“Because if you’ll let me,” he continues, warm lips against my heated flesh as his arms hook under my knees. “I’m going to make sure you do in fact stay awake all night long.”
13
| Katelyn |
With that not-so-subtle warning, he starts circling my clit with his thumb, deliberately keeping my panties right where they are, until I’ve drenched the fabric. I can tell he doesn’t want to make me lose it right away. No, he’s teasing me, torturing me. He’s purposely using the thin barrier to keep me from feeling his touch fully, purposely driving me even crazier in the process.
“Keep those beautiful brown eyes on me, baby,” he orders huskily as he finally nudges my panties to the side. “I want to make sure they stay evenly dilated while I’m making you come.”
Never thought first aid could be this sexy before.
At the first plunge of his hot tongue deep inside me, I’m a goner. Forget keeping my eyes open. He seems to be okay with that though, seeing as how keeping my legs open seems to be a bigger priority now. Pinning me against the mattress with his calloused hands on my inner thighs, Cade proceeds to take his sweet time driving me to the brink with his tongue. Determinedly. Masterfully.
Then, just when I think he’s going to do it. Send me tumbling into oblivion, he stops.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he rumbles, sounding almost as dazed as I feel.
He eases two thick fingers in me then, gently at first, until I practically drench his hand.
“Fucking hell.”
The hum of his words
sends lightning to my core and I’m this close to drowning in pleasure as he sucks hard on my clit, demanding nothing short of my utter devastation.
My whole body turns into a trembling mass of sensations, but somehow my brain is still functional. Even now, even when he’s unleashing pre-orgasmic havoc on my body, I can see how careful he’s being with me. It’s sweet. But right now, I don’t want the sweet, stubborn gentleman.
I want the brusque, brash caveman. “W-wait.”
He freezes.
With a boldness I never knew I had, I explain, “I want you inside of me when I come.”
A shuddering curse tears out of his throat. “Jesus Christ, Katelyn.”
And with that, he doubles down on his efforts, his tongue beginning a harsh pattern of lashes on my clit that instantly triggers an explosion I’m nowhere near ready for.
Just that quickly, I’m coming harder than I ever have in my life. It all crashes into me in endless waves he seems able to control like some sort of unyielding sex wizard. He doesn’t let up, and I don’t stop coming until he decides he’s good and ready to pull back.
In all fairness, it doesn’t look like it’s easy for him to stop. His broad shoulders are strained with tension, his breathing tight and labored as he drops his forehead onto my stomach for a few long moments before lifting his head and spearing me with his gaze.
His expression when he locks eyes with me?
Positively primal.
I’ve never known pleasure to be Richter scale worthy before, but with Cade, it so is. Really, the only thing keeping me semi-conscious right now is the growing realization that he pulled back because he has no intention of going any further. “Don’t you want to—”
“Baby, for the sake of my sanity don’t finish that sentence.” Voice hoarse and beyond tormented, he pushes himself upright, but stops me from doing the same. With one hand gripping a truly impressive—and tragically still-denim-trapped—hard-on, he drags his other hand down my torso slowly, skimming between my breasts and down my belly, scorching a path of possession over every inch of me he hasn’t already laid claim to as if he just can’t help himself.
