Cowboys and Highlanders

by Scott, Tarah

  She put her hands on his chest. Her delicate touch caused an instant reaction. His cock, trapped in his trousers, throbbed. He ached to free himself, letting his erection stretch toward his navel until he could bury himself in Marion’s trim body.

  Water glistened against the smooth swell of her breasts. His hands trailed up the slick planes of her lower back, tracing the contours of her torso. His palms cupped her buttocks.

  Marion drew in a deep breath and pushed his head under water.

  Train popped up. Marion squealed when his hands wrapped her waist. He picked her up easily and tossed her into the water with a splash. Train found it difficult to determine if she were choking or laughing as she found her footing.

  “Damn.” Train issued another slur of profanity when Marion dove gracefully beneath the water. She lied about not being able to swim. He dived below the surface and swam after her. Within a few powerful strokes, he had caught up to her and grabbed her ankle.

  “I don’t want TJ and Allison to find us like this,” he said as they treaded water.

  Marion took a big breath and leaned back. She closed her eyes and spread her arms wide as her breasts skimmed the surface of the water. Train put his hands under her shoulder blades and kicked. With languid strokes, they moved toward shore.

  After his feet touched the ground, he whispered near her ear, “I want to kiss you.”

  Marion put her legs down and turned in his arms. Still in the water up to their chests, she wrapped her legs around his waist, ground her sex into his erection and clung to his shoulders.

  Train reveled in the feel of her slick, naked body slipping against his. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips before their mouths came together. Exotic, yet sweet, he tasted the erotic recesses of her mouth. His heart hammered in his chest. All the blood rushing to his groin left him dizzy. She ground her sex against his, riding the hard ridge of his erection. Shit. He was going to erupt in his jeans. “Time to go,” he said, letting her slide down his body until she was standing on her own.

  “And just when we were about to have some fun.” Together, they walked out of the water. Marion showed no modesty. “Are you sure there isn’t something wrong with you? I’m throwing myself at you, and you don’t seem fazed the least little bit.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Well, maybe that isn’t exactly the truth. It felt big and hard. It works, doesn’t it?”

  Bending over to get his shirt, he froze. “You can decide for yourself, just not today.”

  “Want to bet?”

  “You’d lose.”

  Marion decided when Train smiled he was devilishly handsome. Wet hair pasted to his forehead and his shirt clung to the muscles of his back. Water glistened, beaded, and dripped from the hair on his chest.

  The sun moved slowly across the perfect, blue sky. Fluffy, white clouds created momentary spots of welcomed shade as they walked around the edge of the lake. “I don’t think TJ and Allison are coming back.”

  Train shoved his hands into his pockets. “I can’t say I care. I didn’t want to share our afternoon with anyone else.”

  “I had fun, too, which surprises me.” She reached down and picked a dandelion. “You scared me earlier when you said you were looking for something serious.”

  “My intention wasn’t to scare you.”

  “You did,” she interrupted. “Should I want a big mansion in town with servants and children under foot, or should I simply be grateful that you want to make an honest woman out of me?”

  The amusement left his face. “A woman in your position, being a whore, you’ve already given up the finer things in life.”

  “What would you know about the positions I’ve been in?” she spat, walking toward the horses. “You must be under the assumption that no one else has ever wanted me.” She pulled on the saddle horn to make sure it was still secure. “Let me give you a little history lesson. My mother was a whore. I was born on a filthy mattress in a stinky, little room. I lived in that room until my mother tossed me out like a broken doll. Seems some of her regular patrons had interest in little girls as well. Better to get rid of me than to let me cut into her profits. The man she worked for had ambitions of his own. I was seven years old the first time he--” She wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “Even if I wanted children--which I don’t--” she solemnly spoke, “he made sure I wouldn’t have them.”

  Train made a move toward her.

  “Don’t try to console me.” She looked away from him. “My memories let me know I’m still alive. By God’s grace and my own wits, I found a way to survive. But I’m not ashamed of what I do now.”

  “I’m sorry, Marion.”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  “I just meant that I do understand.” He put his hand on her shoulder when she turned away from him.

  “What you should understand is that there is no reason I’d ever consider marriage.” She struggled pulling herself up onto Midnight Dancer. Then, barely in the saddle, Marion kicked Midnight Dancer with her heel, and shouted, “Ha!”

  Chapter Three

  Train and Marion rode silently along the well-worn trail. He experienced a gamut of conflicting emotions as he watched her. Reconciling the beautiful and feisty woman with the tormented child inside was difficult. She appeared strong and self-assured, but anyone who had experienced immense grief at the hands of those responsible for her safety would erect walls of protection. He had a few himself. She’d needed someone to protect her.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed,” he said quietly. “We were having a nice afternoon, and now it’s uncomfortable between us.”

  “I shouldn’t have unloaded on you.”

  Train stopped his horse, dismounted, and held his hand out to help her from Midnight Dancer. He kept his hands on her waist after her feet touched the ground. “I can handle it.” He pushed a tendril of wet hair from her cheek. “No more talk of courting, marriage, or children. I won’t make the rest of your visit difficult.”

  She let her hands rest on his arms. “That’s a deal.”

  His muscles tensed under her fingertips. “I won’t be making any more bets with you. I won’t survive another loss.”

  “Everything about this place unnerves me.” She looked up into his eyes. “I’ve never talked about my mother. I don’t like talking about her.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t like sharing my past. I don’t want folks feeling sorry for me.”

  “Your secrets are safe with me.” Train looked out over her shoulder when he heard approaching horses. “They’re back. Smile, or Allison will be all over you with questions.”

  Marion wiped under her eyes before turning around. Her hand flew to her mouth, failing to catch her laugh before it escaped her lips. “I guess we don’t need to know what kept you two.”

  Train tried to focus on the toe of his boot digging in the dirt, but his chest vibrated, trying to hold in a laugh.

  “What are you insinuating?” Allison asked with mock annoyance.

  TJ leaned over and plucked a twig from her hair. “Sorry,” he said without any remorse in his tone. “I missed a few.” He brushed off her back a little better, but dirt clung to her dress.

  Allison’s cheeks flamed red.

  “I take it your horses don’t need a rest,” Train said without looking at his friend and boss. “I think we’re ready, too.” He helped Marion back on her horse. A secret smile passed between them.

  The sun was dipping low in the horizon when they returned to the homestead. “Is anyone else hungry?” TJ asked when they dismounted in front of the stables.

  “Why don’t Marion and I make dinner while the two of you take care of the horses?” Allison smiled at her brilliant idea.

  “You want me to cook? Bad idea.” Marion put up her hands in surrender.

  Train came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. “You two go ahead. We’ll pass. Marion wants to learn about horses.”

  Allison leaned into TJ. “I guess that means
we get to spend the rest of the evening alone. Husband,” she said quietly, “would you like to help me in the kitchen?”

  TJ whispered into her ear. His hand ran sensuously down her back. They made their way toward the main house, whispering and laughing low.

  Train turned away from the intimate exchange.

  Marion watched in fascination. “The way TJ looked at Allison is a good indication it’ll be breakfast before anyone sees them.” She turned away from Allison and TJ to watch Train rub the horse’s legs. He handed her a towel and showed her how to wipe the sweat from the horse’s back where the saddle had been.

  The stable was dark when Train closed the gate on the last stall. They stepped into the night air.

  “Are you tired?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  “You’re quiet. What’re you thinking?”

  “I don’t want to take you to the house, but I sleep in the shack and I definitely don’t want to take you there.”

  Marion linked her fingers with his. “Come on.” She walked back into the stables.

  Train closed the door behind them. Then he followed her to an empty stall. Fresh hay covered the ground and scented the air. He took off his cowboy hat and hung it on a peg hammered into one of the posts. He cupped her cheek with his palm.

  “You come off as strong, but when I look at you, something in my gut needs to protect you.”

  “I don’t want your protection. I take care of myself.” She put her hand over his and guided it down her ribs to her waist.

  “Sweetheart,”

  “Sssh.” She put her finger over his lips. “Don’t start talking. When you talk, I get mad. Right now, I don’t want to fight.” She reached up and took tender nips at his lips. “I want you to kiss me like before.” Her palms on the side of his head heated him. Fingers fed the flames when they trailed through his hair.

  Desire snaked up his spine. He tingled from scalp to toes. Blood pumped into every part between. His cock hardened and his balls heated. He bent his knees and pressed closer. The silky, smooth hair on the back of her head slipped through his fingers. He sought the edge of her jaw below her ear with his lips, tasting, starved for her flesh. Hunger and passion consumed.

  Train palmed her hip and aligned their bodies, fitting his erection against the heat of her sex. He groaned as she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. Her head fell back, giving him access to her entire neck. His tongue found her earlobe, flicking it before gently sucking it into his mouth.

  Marion dropped to her knees and Train followed her down. The bed of hay crinkled beneath them as they positioned in the stall. God, she was pretty. Face flushed, shallow puffs of air parting her full lips. He lay next to her. The firm peaks of her breasts pressed against her dress, waiting for his touch. Every gulp of her breath lifted her chest, beckoning him closer.

  But this wasn’t right. He was just like every other man who bedded her. He had her in the barn, on her back, wanting her thighs spread for him. His heart lurched. “This isn’t right.” He sat up, closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

  “Train?”

  The word asked a thousand questions.

  He swallowed, pushing his heart from his throat, and opened his eyes. Her hair fanned across the sweet smelling hay. She was all sensuous curves and long willow-like limbs. His blood surged. He wanted to be just like everyone else, to be another man to bed a willing whore.

  Marion sat up and reached for him. Marion never needed any man. She’d wanted men, giving and taking pleasure of her own. What she felt for Train both terrified and thrilled her. She had never begged before. Never said there wasn’t a first time for everything. With her heart racing, she said, “Please, Train.”

  His gaze was soft as a caress. When he returned to her mouth, his tongue sent shivers of desire surging in waves. She knew better than to try to end the sweet torture. Her heartbeat pulsed in every part of her body. She moaned, aching for him to deepen the kiss. Slow and sensual, her toes curled as he made love to her mouth.

  “I’m burning up, Train. I need you to touch me,” she whispered into his mouth as they kissed.

  He smiled, refusing her request, continuing the painful pleasure of using only his tongue.

  Marion clutched his neck and tried to pull him on top of her. She whimpered, impatient to have his weight pressing into her.

  He chuckled. “Not yet, sweetheart. You miss out on too much when you rush.” His voice was rich and smooth in the nearly dark stable, the sweet and pungent smell of hay all around them. “I want to savor every kiss.” Long shadows cast against the walls and rafters. “I like it slow.” He inclined his mouth over hers, once again intimately exploring with soft tenderness.

  He wanted slow, but her heart raced like Midnight Dancer. Maybe Train saw this comparison. She needed fast. Her body bucked. Like Midnight Dancer, she wanted to throw her head back and demand he let her free.

  Finally, he moved between her legs. Her thighs spread. He ground against hers. With the slightest pressure, a tightening response welled from deep within. His undulating hips, and the pressure of his hardened length against her sensitive flesh made her arch against him. It was just enough to push her over the edge. “Train!” she cried into the stillness of the stable. Her fingernails dug into his arm. Waves of pleasure rippled through her. Her heart thundered. Shivers streaked over her flesh. She couldn’t catch her breath. She tightened her thighs against him and jolted with the spasms. Finally her muscles relaxed and her legs fell open.

  Train rested his forehead in the hollow of her neck. “Are you okay?”

  She wrapped her arms around him and held tightly. “What about you?” she whispered. Heavy, shallow breathing eased.

  “I’ll get mine another time.” He kissed her. “I swear someday I will make love to you.” He combed his fingers through her tangled hair. “Marion, I won’t share.” His hand stilled and their gazes locked. Both accepted the implication of the statement. If she wanted him, she would have to give up the only life she knew.

  “I am disappointed,” she sadly said. “I hate not getting what I want.”

  Train cradled her in his arms as she lay in front of him in the hay. Her bottom fit snuggly against the front of his trousers. Their legs tangled together as they fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  “Train?” she whispered when the first rays of the morning sun streamed through the rafters of the barn. “I’m hungry.” She put her hands over her stomach in an attempt to quiet the growling sounds. “Wake up.” She rocked his shoulder back and forth. “Either wake up or I’m going to the shack to eat.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back down beside him. Her stomach vibrated. “Did you feel that?” she asked with feigned annoyance. “Come on, let’s go pillage the kitchen.”

  She struggled out of his arms, stood, and towered above him, hands on her hips. “I’m sure I can think of another way to wake you up,” she said coyly. “Train,” she sang. She took his cowboy hat off the peg and put it on. “Be patient, sweetheart,” she whispered in a deep voice trying to mimic Train as she knelt down beside him. “This morning it’s your turn.” Her tongue tickled his ear.

  His arm shot out with lightning speed and captured her across the chest. She squealed, head falling back. Laughter pealed through the air. His hat tumbled from her head.

  Train sat up and leaned against the wall. She sat across his lap. “Now that I have you up,” she said. “What am I going to do with you?” She wiggled her bottom against his morning erection.

  He stood. His abrupt movements caused her to slide into the hay. He dusted off his hat and put it on. “We better feed you before you decide to take matters into your own hands.”

  She stood and wrapped her arms around his neck. “That may happen whether you feed me or not.” Her head tilted and he kissed her waiting lips.

  A growl from her stomach caused him to laugh. “I suppose you expect me to fix you something?” He opened the stable doo
r for her.

  Dampness clung to the crisp morning air. The mountains remained obscured by a gray mist hovering close to the ground. Chickens pecked looking for a meal.

  Marion glanced at Train. Three days worth of whiskers covered his face. No longer tucked in, and partially unbuttoned, the front of his shirt revealed a hint of hair. He’d left his belt somewhere in the stable so his trousers hung a bit lower on his hips. She’d seen many men in her line of work. Train was beautiful against a rugged, Montana background.

  “It’s easy to see why you call this place home,” she said.

  “This is temporary. Someday I’m going to have a place of my own. Until now, I never had motivation to move away from TJ.” His steady gaze held hers.

  “Don’t plan your life around me, Train.”

  He rested his hands on top of her shoulders. “I’m going to build you a mansion. It will take me awhile to fill it with servants, but I would gladly wait on you hand and foot.” He spoke with a note of laughter in his voice, causing his dimples to become more prominent.

  “And what about children?” She pretended, amused by his teasing. “We could try and try and never have one.”

  “They make too much noise.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “And we wouldn’t be able to drop our clothes and make love whenever we wanted.”

  She looked at the ground. “It’s your dream, not mine. I think we’re both delusional from lack of food.” He started to speak, but she put her hand up stopping him. “I’m going back to the Dusty Rose today, after breakfast. Allison said TJ would have someone take me.”

  “If that’s what you want, I’ll take you.” His mouth hardened into a tight line.

  “Train, I only came for the wedding. I’ve had fun with our teasing, and I haven’t been secretive about my attraction to you.” She tugged on the hem of his shirt. “If you’re in town, come see me.” She smiled. “Come on, I’m still starving.” She took his hand and pulled.