The Buckhorn Legacy

by Lori Foster

  His hands moved back down her body to her bottom. He kneaded her, groaned, closed his mouth around her nipple through the bathing-suit bra. She felt the press of his hot tongue.

  “Casey.”

  In the next instant, he stood and Emma found herself flush against him, his mouth on hers, his tongue sinking deep. He pressed his rigid erection into her belly, his breathing labored, his hands trembling as he touched her everywhere with a gentleness that bordered on awe.

  He lifted his mouth and looked at her. The heat in his eyes stole her breath, then he kissed her again, easy, slow. Against her mouth, he said, “Emma, honey, as gorgeous as you are in that suit, all I can think about now is getting you out of it.”

  Emma looked around the area, which was deserted but still out in the open. “It…it’s been a long time since I made out in a cove…”

  “Don’t.” Casey’s hands tightened on her and he squeezed his eyes shut. Three deep breaths later, he got control of himself. Despite his obvious turmoil, he cradled her close and spoke quietly near her ear. “I’m talking about making love, not making out. And I thought we’d go up to the cabin. It’s clean, and no one ever comes here.” He opened his mouth on her neck, pressed his tongue to her wildly thrumming pulse. He groaned again. “I need a long time, Emma. Hours. Days.” Her heart thundered, and she heard him barely whisper, “A lifetime.”

  Her knees nearly buckled. But men often said things they didn’t mean when they were aroused. She had to remember that so she didn’t set herself up for disappointment.

  Flattening her hands on Casey’s chest, she levered him back, smiled and said with absolute certainty, “Yes.”

  * * *

  B.B. FOLLOWED THEM up the hill and into the enclosed front porch. The dark screening kept bugs out and shaded the room, but let in the fresh air. With the small house buried in the dense woods, it was cool and smelled a little earthy.

  The dog did a quick reconnaissance of the area, sniffing everything, pushing his nose into every corner. He decided it bored him, and went back out through the screen door into the yard. They watched him as he wandered down to the dock, found a heated spot beneath a ray of sun. He turned around, circled and dropped.

  Emma smiled. “He’s so lazy,” she said, her voice sounding thick.

  Suffering the most raging case of lust he’d ever known, Casey seated himself on the side of the twin-size bed. The white cotton sheets were rumpled and the pillows still bore the imprint of his head from his last retreat three days ago. Then, he’d been considering his life, his future, what he wanted to do. There’d been many decisions to make.

  Now all other concerns were pushed aside in his need to have Emma. Again, he clasped her hips and looked at her adorable belly, the way her bra lifted her breasts, how the waistband of the bottoms stretched across her hipbones. The bikini was nearly the same color as her skin, but nowhere near as soft.

  “I put the bed in here when I bought the place. It’s great for napping, and I like to come here and think.”

  As bold as ever, Emma straddled his lap, then settled onto him, groin to groin, belly to belly, breasts to chest. Her eyes were heavy, her face flushed, her lips parted. She touched his jaw with her fingertips while staring at his mouth. “What do you think about, Casey?”

  You, he started to say, but caught himself. Damn, she looked ready. But he wanted to go slow, to make it last. He pushed his hands into her bottoms, cuddled her firm cheeks and rested his face against her breasts. “Work. Life. Hell, I dunno.” He’d often thought about her, wondering where she was and what she was doing. “I just like kicking back here, getting away from everyone.”

  Emma nuzzled against his ear. “Do you bring women here for sex?”

  He jerked back, offended and annoyed. “Only you, Emma.”

  Her big brown eyes darkened, and turned velvet with emotion.

  Without even trying, she twisted him inside out. “Kiss me, Em.”

  She did, and damn, she knew how to kiss. Her enthusiasm singed him and left him so primed it was a wonder he didn’t slide her beneath him right now.

  Patience, he reminded himself. He wanted more than one quick fuck. He wanted… Hell, he didn’t know everything he wanted. But he wanted more. Of her. Of this.

  Her bra ties slid free easily enough, yet the closeness of their bodies kept it in place. Casey clasped her shoulders and held her away from him. The cups dropped away from her breasts and Emma, while smiling at him, removed the top completely.

  Beautiful. Casey held her steady as he leaned forward and closed his mouth around her left nipple. Her body flexed the tiniest bit in reaction and she made a sound between a groan and a purr.

  He locked his arms around the small of her back to keep her from retreating as he feasted upon her. He took his time, loving the taste and texture of her, the small sounds she made. When her nipple was tightly beaded, he switched to her other breast.

  At first, the gentle rocking of her body didn’t register. When it did, Casey had to look at her. With her head tipped back, her lips parted, her fingers caught in his hair, she epitomized female abandon.

  Using his teeth with devastating effect, he further taunted her nipple, until she whispered, “Casey, please…”

  He shuddered in reaction. “I love hearing you say my name.” He couldn’t wait any longer. Lifting her to her feet, he quickly finished stripping her. She didn’t say a word when he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her bottoms and skimmed them down her legs. She stepped out of the material, he set them aside, and they both went silent.

  So often in his dreams, he’d imagined having Emma just like this.

  She stood there with her belly pulled tight, her nipples wet from his mouth. His to take. Casey drew a heated breath—and knew he was falling hard all over again.

  It should have bothered him. Emma had walked out on him once; she kept secrets from him still. She’d only been back in town for a day and had definite plans for taking off again. But, at the moment, none of that mattered.

  Keeping his eyes on the neat triangle of pubic hair between her legs, he unsnapped his shorts and shoved them down, removing his boxers at the same time. He kicked them aside on the dusty porch floor. He knew Emma was staring at his erection. He locked his knees and let her look her fill, but it wasn’t easy when his every muscle strained against the need to hold her again.

  In a breathless whisper, she said, “I hope I’m not dreaming.”

  That made him smile and relieved some of his tension. “Come here, and I’ll make sure you’re awake.” The words were barely out of his mouth and Emma was there, her small hands sliding up and over his chest to twine around his neck, her belly pressing into his groin, her mouth turned up for his. She showed no reserve, no hesitation. And the kiss she gave him left him shaking.

  Hoping to slow her down, he lowered them both to the bed and moved to her side. The urge to climb on top of her and sink deep into her body was already strong. With her encouraging murmurs and touches, holding back was hell. But he’d been waiting for over eight years so what did a few more minutes matter?

  And he had been waiting, he knew that now. The dissatisfaction he’d felt with every female since Emma now made sense. They’d been lacking simply because they weren’t Emma. She was special in ways he hadn’t realized.

  Propping himself up on his elbow, Casey stared down at her.

  She shifted, trying to bring him back to her, flesh to flesh
. “Casey?”

  “Shh.” Fingers spread wide, he settled his hand on her belly and felt her muscles contract. “I love just looking at you, Emma.”

  Her velvety brown eyes, so hungry, so hot, held his as she caught his wrist and urged his hand lower, between her parted thighs. She started at the first touch of his fingers there, moaning softly, her breath hitching.

  Watching her face, Casey gently opened her with his fingertips, stroked over her swollen vulva, her clitoris. She was wet, hot. His own heartbeat roared in his ears.

  As he teased, her back arched off the mattress, making her breasts an offering. He dipped down to gently suck on her nipples at the same time he sank his middle finger deep. Her reaction was startling—and damn exciting. Inner muscles clenched tight around his finger, her body shivered, her legs stiffened.

  “Casey.” So much pleading in one small word. Hell yes, he loved hearing his name, especially the way she said it now, with all the same need he felt.

  A rosy flush covered her body, warming her skin and intensifying her luscious scent. Casey took his time suckling her, fingering her, enjoying her. Perversely, the more frantic Emma became, the more she moaned and writhed and pleaded, the more determined he was to take his time, to leisurely make her crazy with lust. And to prove to her that she couldn’t feel this with any man other than him.

  She was so easy to read, not because her hands clenched fitfully in his hair and her broken moans were so explicit. Not because her hips rocked against his hand, faster, harder. But because he knew this one particular woman better than any other. It seemed he always had. And he knew he always would.

  He felt her begin to tremble, felt the stillness that signaled the onset of her release, and he surged up from her breasts to take her mouth in a voracious, claiming kiss.

  Goddammit, she was his. She’d always been his. She…

  The clench of her nails on his shoulders shattered his thoughts and warned of her release. Heart ready to explode, he rode out the climax with her, kissing her face, murmuring to her, maintaining the steady press and stroke of his rough fingertips between her thighs until she finally pulled her mouth away to gulp frantically for air. She took her pleasure as naturally as a woman should—relishing it, giving in to it.

  “Oh, God,” she groaned as she slumped back into the mattress, still breathing too hard, still shivering. Her eyes were slumberous, heated. Damp with tears.

  He wanted more.

  He needed it all.

  Casey came to his knees to look over her temporarily sated body—temporary, because no way in hell was he done with her. He touched her everywhere, parting her legs wider, stroking her with both hands, catching her already sensitive nipples. He luxuriated in the feel of her warm, soft flesh in places that he’d once considered forbidden to him.

  “You care about me, Emma. It’s still there—whatever it is between us.”

  Her eyes were closed, her face turned slightly away. She nodded, sniffed, and more tears seeped out around her thick lashes.

  Frowning, Casey trailed his fingers down her body, over her belly, through her pubic hair and between her lips. She was creamy wet now, swollen, throbbing. He watched her eyes open…and thrust three fingers into her hard.

  She cried out softly, twisting on the sheets.

  “Admit it, Em. Say it.” He waited, but she stared at him with that lost expression that had the ability to rip him apart. His teeth clenched. “Tell me it’s still there. Tell me you care about me.”

  She swallowed hard and offered up a small, shaky smile. Looking more vulnerable than any woman ever should, she whispered, “Always, Casey.” Her voice broke, and she laid one palm over his heart. “Always.”

  A tidal wave of feelings took his breath. He couldn’t wait a second more. He snagged the condom from his shorts pocket and rolled it on in record time. Emma waited until he started to settle over her, then she rose up and pushed him to his back. Eyes still glistening with tears, that small secret smile still in place, she stared into his eyes. “It’s my turn.”

  Casey groaned. That husky purr of hers would be the death of him. His muscles cramped when she wrapped both hands around his erection and stroked, slow, easy. Again and again.

  He was still trying to get himself under control when she lifted herself over him, positioned him against her tender sex, and sank down so languidly he nearly lost it there and then.

  “Emma…” His awareness of her was so heightened, he felt everything, every tiny movement and touch. Like the press of her smooth legs around his hips, and her buttocks on his thighs. The way her hands contracted on his chest and how her body squeezed him with each retreat, then softened around him as she sank down again.

  Her breasts swayed, drawing his hands, then his mouth. Much as he enjoyed seeing her astride him, she was too far away. Craving the touch of her body to his, Casey sat up and pulled her closer so he could reach all of her, her slim back, the luscious flare of her hips and the firm resilience of her ass cheeks. He kissed her, keeping her mouth under his even as he felt his testicles tightening with his climax.

  As she wrapped her legs completely around him, Emma never missed a beat, rising and falling, rising again. She didn’t let him hold back, didn’t give him a chance to regain control. When he came, she took his harsh groans into her mouth and gave back her own sweet sounds of release. Their bodies strained, clung, and then shuddered roughly. Her arms wrapped around his neck, Emma leaned into him.

  Casey felt her heartbeat rioting against his jaw and he pressed a kiss to her breast. Emma’s fingers stroked idly through his hair, petting him, hugging him tight every couple of seconds. The contentment lasted for long minutes. He felt at peace, whole in a way that had eluded him until now.

  But with the edge taken off his hunger, Casey knew he had to tend to other things. He mentally braced himself, then carefully stretched out on the bed with Emma resting over his chest.

  He was still inside her when he kissed her temple and said, “Now we talk.”

  “Mmm.” She toyed with his chest hair, and Casey could hear the sleepiness in her voice, reminding him once again that she was short on rest, heavy on worries. “About what?”

  Staring at the warped boards in the ceiling, Casey tightened his arms around her back so she couldn’t run from him. “About you.” He kept his tone calm, firm. “About what happened that night you came to my house.”

  She stiffened in alarm, but he couldn’t relent. This was too important. She tried to struggle away from him but he stroked her, hoping to soothe her, to offer reassurance.

  “Casey…”

  He held her close to his heart. “I want to talk about your mother.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She lifted her face so he could see her disgruntled frown. Casey smoothed her tangled hair back and studied her taut expression. He touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb, and said, “She’s a drunk, isn’t she, Emma?”

  * * *

  DAMON SMILED at the picture Ceily made in her sundress and sandals. Given the understated outfit, she should have looked innocent. Instead, she looked hot. Tantalizing. Like a wet dream.

  He knew women well enough to know she’d spent extra time preparing for him. It showed in the carefully applied makeup, the subtle sexiness of her clothes.

  She’d spent the last hour showing him around Buckhorn, not that there was that much to see other than the beautiful scenery. T
hey’d had ice cream, and watching Ceily lick a cone was a special form of foreplay he wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. Damon was sure it had been deliberate. And it had worked.

  He’d barely been able to take his gaze off her as they’d waved to a hundred of her “close friends” and browsed the one and only gift shop.

  After showing him all the landmarks, she’d driven her small compact to the outskirts of town, parked near a pasture and gotten out. Carrying a small cooler of drinks and with a plaid blanket over his arm, Damon followed her. He had to be careful of cowpatties, a unique concern that.

  He wasn’t quite sure where Ceily was leading him, but he gladly followed. Walking behind her, taking in the sway of her lush hips, certainly wasn’t a hardship.

  The humid breeze ruffled her hair and played with her skirt when she twisted to look at him over her shoulder. “There’s a beautiful creek right down here.”

  The entire area looked splendid—the perfect place to build some small vacation cabins or retirement homes. “Is this your property?”

  “No, it belongs to my grandpa.”

  He wondered if her grandpa would be willing to sell. “You’ve lived here your whole life?”

  “Yep.” She stopped in front of a crystal-clear creek filled with churning water. The sound alone could mesmerize, but with the wildflowers here and there, birds circling and Ceily close by, it was outright magnificent.

  Damon spread the blanket and watched her settle onto it. Ceily wasn’t an introverted or uncertain woman. She had a teasing, confident presence that aroused him.

  He dropped next to her and slanted her a teasing look. “If I get too hot, do you intend to throw me into the creek?”

  Utilizing considerable thought, she plucked a long blade of grass. “I thought we might both cool off when the sun sets.”

  Damon arched an eyebrow. “Skinny-dipping?”

  Her mouth curled while she positioned the blade of grass between her thumbs. “I bet you’re a virgin, huh?”