Wannabe in Wyoming (Antelope Rock Book 1)

by J. B. Havens

  “She sounds amazing, I wish I could have met her.”

  Resting her cheek back against his broad shoulder, she said, “Yeah, she would have liked you.” Inhaling deeply, she ran her hand up and down his chest, enjoying the feel of his warm flesh and firm muscles under the soft cotton. She traced the bumps and ridges of his defined pecs, noting the small nubs of his nipples.

  “Willow?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Touching you. I like the way you feel.” Digging her fingernails in, she drew them down his chest lightly. He shivered, and she wondered how he would react if she clawed his bare back.

  He put his hand over hers, halting her movements. “I like that you like it, and having your hands on me is amazing, but I thought we were going to take it slow?”

  “Me touching you like this turns you on that much?” She giggled and grew bolder. “It’s not like I’ve got my hand down your pants! And anyway, what’s the point of sitting on a porch swing with a boy you like if you can’t make out and feel each other up a little bit?”

  Letting go of her, he gently lifted Ethel and set her down on the porch, making her yowl in protest. “Baby, there is no boy sitting here with you. I’m all man.” In a sudden move, he picked her up, scooted to the middle of the cushioned seat, and deposited her onto his recently vacated lap, positioning her until she was straddling him. He gripped her hips to steady her and pushed his feet against the porch, rocking the swing back and forth gently. She could feel every considerable inch of him pressed against her. Her mind flashed to what it would be like to sit here like this but without the barrier of their clothes. She gripped his shoulders and held on while he rocked them. Each push and pull making the ever-present passion between them flare hotter than before.

  “Oh my . . .” The chains supporting the swing squeaked and squealed with the back-and-forth motion, but all her attention was focused on the man under her. His thighs were solid between hers, and she could feel the heat of his groin penetrate the two layers of clothing separating them.

  He grinned. “Oh my about covers it.” Trailing his hands slowly up her back, he cupped her shoulders and pulled her fully against his chest. “Now, you said something about making out?” He bumped his hips up, showing her exactly how much she turned him on. The hard length of him hit her clit, and she ground down in response, swiveling her hips and drawing a groan from his throat. “Woman . . .”

  “Shh. You’re talking too much.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she sealed her lips over his, kissing him into silence. She moaned against his mouth, rocked her hips down harder, and bit down on his bottom lip, drawing it gently between her teeth before licking away the sting. Pulling away slightly, she avoided him when he chased her mouth, instead kissing a path down his collarbone and sucked a bruise there. She hoped he wouldn’t mind that she’d marked him. “God, you’re so yummy, I want to taste you everywhere.” She nibbled on his earlobe and relished the shudder it drew from him and how he thrust his pelvis up. Grinding her mound against his hardness, she used the swing’s motion to build a rhythm. Soon, they were moving in sync, kissing, grasping, and caressing each other. They were as close as two people could be while still clothed.

  “Willow . . . goddamn . . .” he moaned. Her core went liquid, and she knew her panties were soaked. It was taking more willpower than she wanted to admit to keep from ripping their clothes off and riding him into oblivion.

  “Come here, I wasn’t done kissing you.” He grasped her hair with one hand and brought her mouth back to his, while his free hand squeezed her ass and kept her pressed tightly against him. His grip on her hair was firm but not painful, and she liked his forcefulness more than she’d ever imagined she would. His mouth and tongue continued their sensual assault, until her lips were swollen and sore, and they were both gasping for air. Neither wanted to stop long enough to breathe. They were making out and dry humping like teenagers, and she loved every second of it.

  Her heart slammed against her chest, and she could feel her clit throbbing between her legs. “Nathan . . . fuck,” she gasped, tearing her mouth free. “You’re gonna make me come in my pants.” She rested her forehead against his as she struggled to replenish the oxygen missing from her lungs. “I-I think I should get back to my own side of the swing.”

  “Mmm.” He kissed her lightly on the nose. “My head says that’s the smart thing to do, but my cock has other ideas.”

  Gaping at him, she blushed and ducked her face under his chin. “Nathan, honey, I swear you could get a nun into bed with just a smile and a wink, you’re so delicious. But I don’t have the fortitude of a nun.”

  “You like it when I talk dirty, huh?” Chuckling softly, he rubbed his hands up and down her back, soothing them both. “I’ll remember that for later. Didn’t mean to get carried away there, but you seem to have that effect on me.”

  “I think we have that effect on each other.” Climbing off his lap, she reluctantly retreated to her own side of the swing as he shifted to the other end. She had to fold her hands in her lap to hide their trembling. As badly as her body wanted him, her heart and brain were telling her not to rush things. If Nathan was the man she believed he was, he wouldn’t push her until she was ready to take their relationship to the next level. It was one of the many reasons she knew she was standing on the edge of a cliff, only one step away from falling madly in love with him.

  “Come here.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he tugged her back up against his side. “I’ll keep my hands to myself, for now anyway. Here’s a subject change that is sure to kill my hard on, did you find anything else out about your dad?”

  Laughing, she shook her head. “The boxes I’ve looked through so far were just full of junk. Nothing worth saving, and none of it told me anything other than the man was a miser. He squirreled away money, but let this place fall apart. I don’t get it. I’d hoped for a journal or some photographs maybe, but so far it’s been nothing but receipts and old newspapers, boring stuff like that.”

  “I can help you look through some of the other boxes, if you want?”

  “That’d be great. Maybe you’ll see something I’m missing. People in town seem to have very strong opinions about him, and I’m struggling to understand why.” The breeze that’d been light over the past hour strengthened and blew across them, making her shiver. Noticing, Nathan bent down, picked up the blanket they’d both forgotten about, and draped it over them.

  “I know you’re chilly, baby, but are you okay staying out here a little longer?” Nathan asked as he tucked the soft material under her chin.

  “When I have you to keep me warm? Absolutely.” Sitting snugly against his side, she laid her head on his chest, feeling as if she’d been made to fit there. “Baby, huh?”

  “Yeah, is that okay?”

  Giggling and feeling happier than she could remember being in a long time, maybe ever, she poked his side. “Sure, you can call me baby—I don’t mind. Not when it’s you anyway.”

  “Damn right—no other man better call you baby either, whether I’m around or not.”

  Between the blanket and his body heat, she didn’t notice when the temperature dropped a few degrees more. The sun had fully set, and the Milky Way had twinkled to life throughout the big Wyoming sky. She’d never seen so many stars before moving here—the urban pollution in Philly muted most of them. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over being able to see the stars like this.”

  “It really is spectacular, isn’t it?”

  They sat that way for a long time, holding each other close and listening to the sounds of the night. When a flash streaked across the heavens, Willow pointed and exclaimed, “Look! Did you see? It was a shooting star. You have to make a wish.”

  “Nah, I have everything I could wish for right here.” He kissed the top of her head and kept staring up at the vast, inky black sky peppered with sparkling lights from other galaxies.

  Beside him, Willow s
ighed in complete and utter happiness. It was a feeling she wasn’t familiar with, but she wasn’t going to squander or question it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next morning, Willow groaned as she rolled over. She briefly nestled back under her fluffy down comforter before the memories of yesterday came flooding into her mind.

  Nathan was here.

  In her house.

  Right now.

  And she was laying around in bed like a lazy asshole.

  Checking the time, she saw it was just shy of eight. Hoping he was still sleeping, she rose and stepped into her slippers. After a quick stop at the bathroom, she headed down the hallway, intent on brewing a pot of coffee before making breakfast, but she halted in her tracks in the kitchen doorway.

  Nathan was at the sink, rinsing out the carafe and refilling it with water. Scratch that. A better way to say it was a shirtless, half-naked, gorgeous hunk of a man was standing barefoot in her kitchen making coffee. She didn’t bother to stop herself from dragging her gaze along every inch of exposed skin. Holy mother of God! She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Up his sinewy arms, over the tattoo on his shoulder blade, and down his muscled back. She took a few extra moments to admire where gray sweatpants rode low on his hips, revealing two dimples on the small of his back that she was dying to see if they tasted as good as they looked. The sun shone in through the windows and colored his skin in a soft warm glow. She was about to start drooling on herself any second now. Had she died and gone to heaven? Because that was the only reason her muddled brain could come up with for why there was a golden-skinned god standing in her kitchen.

  Glancing down at herself, she noted her very un-sexy outfit of ratty, old sweats and a too big slouchy t-shirt that read, “Wyoming Girls Do It Better.”

  Shit. Should she go change? That would be dumb though, right?

  “You look your fill yet, Wannabe?” Peeking over his shoulder at her, he smiled warmly. “Mornin’, sweetheart. Sleep, okay?”

  “Ug . . . um.” Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Er. Yes. Y-you?”

  “I slept like the dead,” he said before scooping coffee grinds into the filter basket. “I gave Ethel fresh water and topped off her food dish. Was that all right?” He poured the water into the reservoir, set the coffee pot on the warmer, and then hit the button to start it brewing. Turning around to face her, he crossed his arms over his impressive chest. His bare arms were just as drool worthy as the rest of him. Since when were arms sexy?

  The few brain cells she’d managed to rally fled. His front was even sexier than his back. Dark hair covered his pecs and trailed down his defined abs into a narrow line that disappeared into his pants. She’d never really liked hairy guys before, but she was officially a convert. Her fingers itched to scratch through the coarse strands and dig into the muscles underneath. What would the hair feel like against her palms? Her cheek? Her nipples? She shifted her thighs together, surprised at the ache that’d developed so quickly just from the sight of him shirtless.

  Her gaze kept roaming downward, noting the snug fit at the crotch of his pants, and she snapped her eyes back to his face. Jesus, she’d been blatantly checking out his package. Twisting her fingers together behind her back, she forced herself to look at his face and not keep ogling him like a total ho. But, oh my God, the man was sex on a stick.

  “Fine. It’s fine. Feeding the cat is . . . is totally fine. Just fine.” Great, good job, Willow. You can’t even speak!

  “Are you all right?” He stalked toward her. Suddenly nervous, she backed away from him, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Willow?”

  Her butt hit the wall, and she gulped. Literally gulped like an idiot. “F-fine. Everything is just . . . just fine.” God, could she say the word fine a half dozen times within a thirty-second time span? Apparently so.

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “You don’t seem fine.” He stepped even closer, his body heat warming her even through her clothes. Yeah, just her clothes, because he was hardly wearing any.

  “You’re . . . um . . . you don’t have a shirt on.”

  “No. I get pretty warm when I sleep.” He lightly traced his knuckles down her cheek. “Does that make you . . .” His fingers brushed down her neck and along her collarbone that was exposed by the loose collar of her shirt. “. . . uncomfortable?” His touch raised goosebumps down her arms in a rush, and she shivered.

  “It makes me uncomfortable in my pants.” Her mouth fell open, and her face heated so fast she was surprised she didn’t pass out. “Oh, fuck me, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  The shock on his face quickly morphed into amusement as laughter burst from him. “Holy shit, woman, you make me uncomfortable in my pants too. This is certainly one way to start the day, huh? Who needs caffeine when I have you?” He slipped his arms around her waist and hauled her up against his chest. “Now, come here and give me a good morning kiss. Then we’ll have a lazy Sunday breakfast. Just you, me, Fred, and Ethel. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect, Nathan, that sounds absolutely perfect.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, her only thought as he devoured her mouth was she was damn glad she’d taken a moment to brush her teeth. After that, all thoughts fled, and she only knew the burning desire and need he brought out in her.

  This is going to be the best week ever . . .

  Nathan couldn’t have asked for a better day as he and Willow got out of her truck to wander around the small town. The sun was shining, with only a few fluffy white clouds in the sky. The temperature was a comfortable sixty-eight degrees, accompanied by a slight breeze. From Willow’s descriptions and photographs, Antelope Rock looked exactly as he’d imagined it would. It reminded him of Foxborough, Colorado, where he’d grown up.

  Willow had a list of things she needed to get or do while they were in town. Since the main street was only five blocks long, they’d parked at one end, in front of Ducky’s Feed & Supply, intending to run most of their errands on foot. Earlier, after a delicious breakfast, including fresh-from-the-coop eggs, they’d sat on her back porch and waited for Fred to show up. When the little critter had finally made an appearance, Nathan had watched in awe as the prairie dog and Ethel interacted with each other as if they were both part of the same species.

  As he’d sat there with Willow, discussing their plans for the day, a sense of rightness and belonging had flowed over him. Not once since his family had been killed had Nathan felt . . . well, content and at peace. He could’ve stayed on that porch swing with Willow for the rest of his life and never want for anything more. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He wanted her in his bed, or on the kitchen table, or in the barn, or any other flat surface they could find, but he was willing to take things at a snail’s pace if necessary. They’d get there, he was sure of that, but she was worth his patience.

  Willow fascinated him in a way no other woman ever had. She was such a contradiction of terms—soft yet tough, quiet yet vocal, beautiful yet down-to-earth, shy but brave. He didn’t know many people who would uproot themselves from a city they’d grown up in and travel halfway across the country to become a rancher without any prior knowledge or experience. But while they’d sipped their coffee that morning, as she’d explained to him about the alpaca operation they’d be going to look at, it’d been obvious she’d done plenty of research on her pending new career.

  Now, as they strolled down the sidewalk, several townsfolk nodded hello as they passed by the couple, while others didn’t bother to acknowledge their existence. One thing Nathan did notice was that he and Willow were garnering a bit of attention. Fourteen years in the army had given him a sixth sense concerning his surroundings. More than a few residents were watching them, although some were trying not to be obvious about it.

  He squeezed Willow’s hand to get her attention before asking, “Why are people staring at us?”

  Willow snorted. “I’ve discovered there are two types of people in this town. The first type is staring at us, trying to fig
ure out who you are and what you’re doing with Satan’s spawn. They’ll be praying for your soul in hopes you don’t follow the divorced, tattooed chick with the nose stud into Hell.”

  “Seriously?” Aghast, he couldn’t believe anyone would treat Willow so callously. Didn’t they see what an amazing person she was?

  “Yup. I ignore that bunch for the most part, but my Philly snark comes out every once in a while to put them in their place. Now, the other type is trying to figure out who you are, if you’re my boyfriend, and if you’re good enough for me.”

  Nathan burst out laughing. “The second type sounds like my kind of people.”

  “Good, because you’re about to meet one of them.” She gestured to a man who’d just come out of the small post office and was heading toward them. He wasn’t scary looking, but his keen gaze was pinned on Nathan. Clearly, he intended to have a little chat with the man currently holding Willow’s hand. He was about five foot eleven and lean, but it was obvious the man was corded with muscle. Red hair brushed his shirt collar from under a straw cowboy hat, and he strode forward with graceful confidence.

  When the three met in the middle of the sidewalk, Willow pointed a finger at the older man before he had a chance to say anything. She also gave him an evil glare. “Be nice.”

  The man rolled his eyes. “I was just going to tell him if he hurts you, I’m gonna hurt him. You already knew I was going to say that, so why’d you have to go and ruin it? You’re no fun, dammit.”

  Willow sighed heavily, but a warm smile still spread across her face. “Nathan, this is Jeremiah Urban, my local guard dog. Jeremiah, this is Nathan Casey. Be nice,” she repeated to her neighbor.