Nikki left in April, and it was weeks before she called Landon. Her voice was different, changed, in a profound way that he felt all the way to his soul.
And then she told him she wanted to take a break. She’d found someone else. An artist that shared her passion for the bustling city life.
His world had turned upside down when she hung-up, giving him no time to respond and no number to call back.
A year passed and still no word. He had picked up the phone a hundred times wanting to call her parents, to get her aunt’s phone number, just to check in with her. Each time he put the phone back on the receiver. He had to let her go and hope that one day she would return to Willow Bay.
That same winter Nikki’s father showed up on his porch, seeking his help. It seemed that Nikki had fallen in with the wrong crowd in San Francisco. The city had corrupted her, he’d said, tears in the farmer’s eyes, a big man who never openly showed emotion. Until that moment. The aunt had called days before, concerned by Nikki’s appearance. Nikki had moved out of the woman’s house weeks before. She’s a drug-addict, her father had said in a gut-wrenching voice forever imprinted on Landon’s mind. “Please, go to her. You’re the only one she’ll listen to. Bring her home to us.”
The very next day he’d arrived in San Francisco. It took little over an hour to find her apartment, a small hole-in-the-wall above a store that sold women’s lingerie.
He knocked on the paint-chipped door, waiting for her to answer. Hearing rustling on the other side of the door, he knocked again, then tried the door handle and found it locked. He had never locked his front door in all his life. He’d never had to. He would hate living in a place where he found it necessary.
He took two steps back, ready to break the door down when it swung open. A man with black dyed hair stared back at him. There were deep purple half circles beneath the man’s brown eyes. He wore a pair of black leather pants— no shirt and was barefoot. Track marks covered the insides of his arms at the elbow.
A junkie. No doubt Nikki’s new love.
Landon looked past him to the foul-smelling room. Even from his limited view, all he could see was filth, dirty dishes and clothes piled on furniture in what appeared to be the living room.
On a couch was a woman, her arm laid out to the side, tied off, a needle sticking out of her arm.
Landon pushed the man aside, and went to her.
“Nikki!”
His heart pounded with every step that brought him closer. He fell to his knees beside her. Her skin was pale gray, her beautiful light brown hair had been dyed black, and lay in a tangled mass around her shoulders. Dirt crusted the underside of her nails and she reeked of a sour odor. Images of the gorgeous young woman she’d once been flashed through his mind.
“She’s sleepin, man. Don’t bother her.”
The junkie stood by the door, his scrawny arms out to his sides, and a knife in one hand.
Trembling, Landon reached for Nikki’s wrist, praying he’d feel a pulse. Her skin was cold to the touch. His stomach dropped to his feet when he felt no heartbeat. “Nikki,” he said the word softly, praying that she was only sleeping. He nudged her, then lay his ear to her chest.
Nothing.
With heart in throat, he opened one of her eyes, and the blue he remembered so well stared back at him, this time bloodshot and unseeing.
At the age of twenty, his once sweet, innocent Nikki was dead.
Seconds later he’d felt the cold edge of steel against his neck.
“Landon, did you hear me?”
Landon started and looked over at Cory. “What?”
“Krista says she needs to stop.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. Something about every bone in her body aching.”
Landon glanced at his watch. They had a good hour before they reached Little Crow’s Canyon, a beautiful spot where a creek flowed over smooth rocks, and cottonwood trees provided shade from the late afternoon heat.
“Tell her we’ll stop in ——”
“Uh, you tell her yourself. The woman’s not in the mood to argue.” With a wink, Cory was off.
Landon approached Krista, whose mood was evident by the scowl on her face. “What’s the matter, Krista?”
“I have to stop. I can’t make it another mile. My ass is on fire and my back is killing me.”
He couldn’t help but smile at the image her words brought to mind. “Well, we have a good hour left before we stop for the night.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t do another mile. Seriously, my back hurts so bad. I’ve already popped three aspirin.”
He leaned forward and put his fingers beneath her chin. Her eyes opened and she stared at him. “You can do it, Krista. I know you can. You’re just not used to being in the saddle. It stands to reason that you’ll ache.”
The anger and pain sparking in her eyes fled, and they changed as she stared at him. Her gaze held his, then shifted to his mouth, which went dry all the sudden.
Damn this woman did strange things to him.
Her throat convulsed. “Okay.”
He dropped his hand. “If you want, you can ride with me —— in front of me, so you can lean against me and relieve your back muscles.”
She glanced over at Betty who nodded in agreement. “You don’t think everyone will say I’m weak for riding with you, do you?”
He shook his head, even though he was sure some would wonder. Of course, after the tough time she had with training. . . .
A minute later she was off her horse and sitting in front of him, her soft curves pressed against him. The last time he’d ridden like this, it had been Nikki in front of him.
Krista looked over her shoulder at him. “Now, that’s not making you uncomfortable, is it?”
She had no idea how uncomfortable he was. He shifted slightly in the saddle, hoping she couldn’t feel his erection against her back. “I’m fine.” Even his voice sounded strained.
Betty smiled knowingly as she rode on past. Her husband, who was busy taking pictures, following close behind. Cory’s brows nearly lifted to his hairline.
Landon grinned at his young cousin. He had little doubt that Cory was mentally beating himself up for not offering Krista to ride with him first.
He winked at Cory and kicked the horse into a gallop.
* * *
Krista could feel every hard inch of Landon’s body against her back. Man, did it feel good.
And it did ease the pain in her lower back, yet it also started an altogether different pain —— one she hadn’t felt for two lonely years.
Leaning against Landon’s strong chest, she relaxed, and looked down at his hands that rested in front of her, lightly holding the reins. Rough, callused hands. Masculine hands. Hands that weren’t soft like a baby’s butt. No, Landon’s hands knew what hard, physical labor was like. His lean, muscular body was evidence of that.
She could also feel something hard against her ass, and didn’t question whether it was his dick or not. She knew it was, and she could feel him constantly shift to put more space between them. Each time he shifted, she leaned back more, enjoying the sweet torment.
She wondered how old he was. He had to be close to her age, though he seemed much more mature —— like an old soul. There was a wisdom about him that most men her age lacked.
Cory rode up beside them. She smiled, and he frowned. He was jealous! She could see it in his eyes. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or irritated. Sure, Cory was a doll, and he’d find his place in the world, but Landon already knew who he was. He had nothing to prove.
And that was sexy.
Shaking his head, Cory rode past them and straight toward Holly. Krista smiled seeing Holly’s face light up. The two made a cute couple, and the girl could go home with stories to tell her friends about the handsome cowboy. Krista sighed, remembering the intense high of schoolgirl infatuation.
CHAPTER FOUR
A short time later they stopped, and
Landon dismounted. Instantly she missed the heat of his body, the hard security. He extended his hand and helped her down, and then she didn’t see him again for about an hour.
She found him busy at work, helping the others put up their tents. She sat by the fire, watching the flames.
“You like him, don’t you?”
She jumped hearing Cory’s voice. “Who?”
Cory snorted. “My cousin.”
“Landon is . . . interesting.”
“Hmmm.” Cory poked a stick into the flames. “I never thought of him that way. Actually, he’s boring. He never goes into town with the rest of us. You’d think he’d be tired of the Lazy Z, but he isn’t. He never is.”
Krista glanced at Cory, who stared into the flames. As usual, she was taken with the young man’s striking beauty. The boy could easily model in New York and make a mint with his movie star looks. “Does he have a girlfriend?”
Cory turned to her, one brow lifted in question. “There’s this one gal. She stops by every so often. A young widow. Her husband died a few years back.”
“But they don’t see each other, aside from her . . . visits?”
Cory pursed his lips. “Nope. I tell ya, he lives for that ranch.”
“How old is he?”
“Twenty-nine, I think. No, wait, he’s thirty.”
She smiled. Just a little older than her.
“Yeah, but I swear he acts like an old man.”
Krista laughed, and punched him playfully in the arm. “And how old are you?”
He put his arm across her shoulders and grinned devilishly. “How old do you want me to be?”
Krista shook her head in exasperation.
He dropped his arm back to his side. “I’m nineteen, but I’ll be twenty in November.”
And she’d be twenty-nine.
Twenty-nine; no husband, no children.
Twenty-nine, and she’d be assistant editor at The Seattle Herald. It’s a position she had coveted since arriving in Seattle eleven years ago, and now she was within arm’s reach of attaining that goal.
But then what? a little voice inside her head asked.
Would she turn into a workaholic, just like her boss? Would she be content spending another decade trying to prove herself as a journalist? And for what? Recognition, or for the sake of telling her father that she had actually “made it”, despite his comments to the contrary?
Someone cleared their throat.
She looked up to find Landon standing in front of her, hands on hips in a masculine stance that made her hands sweat. “You ready to set up your tent?”
While she’d been sitting on her rear, everyone else had been setting up camp. Now they had time to rest before dinner, while she fought setting up her tent. She’d never been any good at camping, preferring hotels to the hard ground any day of the week.
“And what about you? I don’t see your tent up either.” Landon glanced at Cory.
With a heavy sigh, Cory stood, wiped the dust from his jeans and walked away, his spurs rattling with each step.
Krista was suddenly aware that they were alone for the first time.
Landon extended his hand, she took it, and he pulled her to her feet. They were only inches apart. He didn’t move, nor did she. Her heart pounded as he reached out and took a lock of her hair in his fingers. “You did really well today. I know it’s tough, but your body will get used to the rigor of being in the saddle.” He smoothed the stray lock of hair over her ear, his fingers grazing the sensitive flesh.
She brought her hand up to his, not wanting to lose his touch. Guiding his hand to her face, she looked up into his forest green eyes, dark with desire. A desire that mirrored her own. Slowly his lips met hers, soft at first, then his tongue pushed against her mouth, seeking entrance. She opened to him, and he crushed her to him.
Never in her life had Krista felt such consuming need. Her arms wrapped around his narrow waist, pulling him close, her hands straying to his butt, feeling the tightness with her own hands. She heard a moan and realized with a start that it came from her.
Her fingers squeezed his firm ass, loving the feel of the hard flesh in her hands.
He smiled against her lips, and slowly pulled away. “I think we’d better stop.”
“Why?”
“We’re not alone,” he said, motioning to the tents, all occupied by exhausted guests. Though they couldn’t see Cory, she could hear him as he hammered the tent peg into the hard ground.
“Is your tent up?” she asked, her eyes widening at her bluntness.
If he was shocked by her question, he didn’t act like it. In fact, his expression turned smoldering as he stared. “No, but we can remedy that now, can’t we?” He scanned the surroundings, kissed her soundly and whispered against her lips, “Care to help?”
* * *
They set her tent up not far from the others, and Krista watched from the open flap as Landon made quick work of his —— setting it up farther away from the others. Near the herd, he’d said with a wink. Thankfully, Cory was occupied playing poker with Hank, another of the hands along to help.
Krista released an unsteady breath. Good God, it had been two years since she’d made love. And now, when she yearned to smell fresh and feminine, she instead was dusty and sweaty. Not at all sexy.
Landon came out of the tent, taking his hat off and running his hands through his dark hair. He looked at her, and motioned for her to follow.
The others were still taking it easy —— snores emanating from a few tents. Cory laughed at something Hank said, and Krista could only hope that the others were resting and wouldn’t be waking any time soon.
He headed up over a knoll, into a forested area. She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting Betty to be there watching, or even Cory, but no one followed. As the woods swallowed Landon up, she took a deep breath and went in after him.
A few steps later and she found herself pushed up against the trunk of a giant cottonwood, two hands on either side of her face, and Landon’s mouth on hers.
She couldn’t breathe. His tongue teased her lips, coaxing her open. She opened to him, sighing as he pressed his hard length against her.
“God, woman, you don’t know what you do to me.”
Yes, she did. She could feel every hard inch of his long, thick cock against her belly.
And damn, did it feel good.
He kissed her fiercely, like he couldn’t get enough of her. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, sighing as he cupped a breast, his thumb teasing the rigid peak of a sensitive nipple.
Without warning he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles. He carried her that way, toward a pond, where he set her on unsteady feet and with painstaking slowness unbuttoned her shirt.
His dark green eyes sparkled with passion, telling her what he planned to do to her. God, he was sex personified —— and she didn’t want to wait a minute longer. She ripped his shirt from his jeans, and went for his buckle next.
He laughed under his breath, tossing her shirt aside, before working on her bra. She had his pants down around his ankles before he got her pants unbuttoned. His long, thick cock rose proudly from a black thick nest of curls. Her stomach tightened. He was delicious. All hard muscle beneath golden tan skin.
With a wicked grin, he pushed her jeans down her thighs, along with her pink lace thong. Always self-conscious about her body, particularly the ten extra pounds she’d been packing around of late, she fought the urge to cover herself, but he would have none of it. He stepped back, his eyes grazing her body, so slow she wanted to scream —— or run and hide. “Beautiful,” he said, the side of his mouth curving into an irresistible smile.
And she did feel beautiful.
Kicking her pants aside, she went into his arms. They kissed for a few minutes, until he lifted her and walked into the water. For a moment she savored the cool water over her heated flesh, grateful to get the dirt and grime off of her. Land
on ran his hands down her back, cupping a handful of water, and letting it sluice down her body.
Then he worked on the front, his hands cupping both of her full breasts, teasing her rigid nipples between forefingers and thumbs. How beautiful he was with his hair slicked back off his head, the water sliding over his gorgeous olive skin, the way his eyelashes spiked together from the water. He kissed her, his mouth gentler than before, his tongue dancing with hers, then moving in a motion that emulated the sex act.
She moaned low in her throat and he smiled against her lips. She wanted him now.
He lifted her legs, encouraging her to wrap them around his hips. His cock, impossibly thick and long, even in the cool water, teased her opening.
His lips found her breast, laving one nipple then the next. Using his teeth to lightly tug her nipple, she shifted her hips, desperate to feel him inside her. “Landon, please.”
She didn’t realize she’d said the words out loud until he whispered, “Please, what?”
She looked down at him, his face against her breast. “Please make love to me.”
The cocky smile fled and he walked the few steps to the pond’s edge, where he gently lay her down on the grass. He went for the pocket of his jeans, produced a condom, and slipped it on. Her stomach coiled, watching him in anticipation.
A moment later he bowed over her, much like he had in her dream, and entered her, his thrust smooth and fluid. She had forgotten the delicious feeling of having a man’s hard length buried deep inside her. He kissed her, moving slowly in and out, teasing her by pulling out completely. She lifted her hips, searching. He smiled against her lips and thrust hard, sending off an orgasm that had her reaching for the stars.
Templeton, Julia Page 3