“Well...thank you. This was...” She stepped farther into the steamy room and squatted to turn off the tub facet. “Above and beyond the call of duty.”
He shrugged a muscular shoulder. “I did what I had to. She was miserable, and I couldn’t let her suffer.” He nodded toward Cheyenne. “Wanna take her so I can get up? My butt is numb.”
“Sure.” Amanda reached for her daughter, and quickly realized there was no way to lift her sleeping child off Slade’s chest without touching him. A lot. Her breath hung in her lungs as she wedged her hand between Cheyenne’s cheek and Slade’s sweat-slickened skin. When she scooped up her baby’s legs and wiggled her hand carefully under Cheyenne’s belly, the back of her arm grazed his taut stomach and came dangerously close to his, er...clingy briefs.
Cheyenne squawked once as Amanda started lifting her. Slade tensed, and Amanda froze, waiting for her daughter to resettle. Her gaze latched on to his, and Slade’s azure eyes wordlessly repeated his threat of torture if she woke the baby. The bright blue intensity of his stare, the feel of his damp skin against hers and the heavy, humid air in the bathroom were a potent mix. Amanda’s pulse scrambled. Her limbs were flooded with a throbbing heat that left her flesh tingling and her belly feeling hot and tight.
A bead of perspiration tickled her temple as it ran down her face, and she inhaled slowly to steady herself before trying again to stand with Cheyenne in her arms. As she turned to carry Cheyenne out to her crib, Slade stopped her with a short, soft whistle.
“You need to dry her off before you put her in bed, or she’ll get chilled.”
Amanda jerked a nod. Dry Cheyenne off. Of course. She knew that. She did. And she would have remembered...before too late. She gritted her teeth. She would have remembered now if she hadn’t been so distracted by six feet two inches of kind-hearted, broad-shouldered, nearly naked eye candy.
He shoved to his feet, took a hand towel from the bar above the toilet and draped it over her shoulder. “Here.”
“Thanks,” she replied, her voice far too breathy. The twitch of his sexy lips and amusement in his eyes told her he’d heard it too. Damn it.
Amanda chastised herself for her schoolgirl reaction to Slade as she carefully dried Cheyenne and dressed her in fresh pajamas. She lingered by the crib for a moment after settling her daughter in, buying a few moments to regain her composure before facing Slade again.
By the time she returned to the bathroom, he’d put the bathroom back in order, had helped himself to a towel and was rubbing down his arms and face. He was still in his damp boxer briefs.
Her mouth dried. Steady girl.
She found his discarded jeans behind the door and retrieved them, shoving them toward his chest. “Okay, cowboy, you can put your pants back on now.”
He flashed a wicked grin as he took them from her. “It bothers you, me being in my skivvies?”
Amanda hiked up her chin as she gathered the aspirator and menthol rub he’d set beside the sink. “Well...no.” It turns me on.
She put the items in the medicine cabinet over the sink, and when she closed the cabinet door, she caught Slade’s smug expression in the mirror. She scowled back. “What?”
“I turn you on, do I?” His lopsided smile was pure seduction.
Amanda gasped, horrified. “I said that out loud?”
A rich, low chuckle rumbled from his throat. “You did.”
Snapping her mouth closed, she shot him a warning glare. “Don’t gloat. It will tarnish the shine on the knight’s armor you earned tonight taking care of my daughter.”
He took a step toward her. “I want you, too, Amanda.”
Her breath snagged. “What?”
“You asked me to be honest with you.” Dropping his jeans on the floor again, he took another step, backing her against the door frame. With his fingers, he traced her chin, then cradled the side of her head in his palm. “I’d think that truth was rather obvious.”
“Slade...” She pressed a hand to her swirling stomach and searched for her usual control. Damn it! Why did he fluster her so much? She’d been around plenty of handsome men before. She’d even been around her share of naked men without turning into a blushing, babbling schoolgirl. But somehow Slade’s sensual good looks and sexy build unnerved her, aroused her like no one else.
She swallowed hard. “You should go.”
“What’s the rush?”
“It’s late, and...I need to get to bed.”
He arched a black eyebrow, his thumb lazily skimming her cheekbone. “I agree.”
The smoky look in his eyes and low pitch of his voice made it clear he wasn’t talking about sleep. He twisted his hand in her hair and tugged so that her head angled up. His gaze zeroed in on her mouth, and anticipation fluttered through her. He touched his lips to hers softly at first, but even the gentle brush of his mouth sent shock waves through her. Then, with a rough growl from his throat, he angled his head and deepened the kiss.
Amanda curled her fingers into his muscular arms, steadying herself as the earth shifted and her head spun. Slade’s lips commanded hers, moving with tantalizing persuasion and earning her fervid response. He tasted like peppermint gum, like sweet temptation, and for the life of her she couldn’t remember any of the reasons she’d told herself to stay away from him. Not while his kiss was muddling her brain and setting her body on fire.
He released her hair, moving his hands to her waist. He worked his fingers inside the hem of her shirt, and the heat of his touch against her bare skin sent fresh tremors of heady sensation rolling through her. When he skimmed his hands up, she was so enthralled by the sensation of his calloused palms scraping lightly over her ribs that she didn’t recognize his goal until he’d pushed her bra out of the way.
Her pulse kicked hard, even as desire puddled, warm and heavy at her core. He broke their kiss only long enough to divest her of the shirt and bra, leaving her exposed to him. Her mouth dried as he dropped the clothes on the floor and his gaze dipped to take in her naked breasts. Cupping her with his palms, he shaped her flesh and tweaked her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. A powerful current of sensation shot through her, leaving her trembling with need, clamoring for him.
Slade pressed another hard, soulful kiss to her lips...then stepped back. He gave her a long, piercing look that reached deep inside her, and without a word, he turned and walked away.
Amanda blinked, stunned, breathless and more than a little disappointed. But as she stood there, cold in the wake of his absent body heat, mute from confusion, she heard the creak of bed springs.
She rallied her senses and made her way on shaky legs to her bedroom. In the golden glow of lights from her miniature Christmas tree, Slade lay on one side of her bed, the sheet draped over his hip. His boxer briefs were discarded on the carpet.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, though the answer was obvious.
His cheek twitched in amusement. “Waiting for you.”
She should kick him out, send him on his way. She should put any crazy notion of tangling in the sheets with him far from her mind. But her feet shuffled forward, drawn by the lure of his dark blue eyes, his beguiling grin, and the memory of the sweet fatherly care he’d taken with Cheyenne.
She could resist a sexy man. But a sexy man who’d shown such tenderness and consideration for her daughter’s needs shattered her defenses. In that moment, all she wanted was to curl against him, pull the covers over their heads and not come up for air for a very long time.
She moved to the side of the bed, holding his hot gaze, and unbuttoned her jeans. Hooking her thumbs in her panties, she shoved them and her jeans down her hips and past her knees in one swift motion. After stepping out of the jeans, she stripped off her socks and tossed them aside. The room was cool, but Slade’s gaze, as he studied her from hooded eyes, made her sk
in flush with heat and anticipation.
He lifted the covers, and as soon as she’d taken a condom packet from her bedside stand, she crawled in beside him. Slade slid an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. Amanda’s breath hitched as he stroked his hand along her spine, over her hip, and down her thigh before reversing the path with his fingertips. They lay on their sides, facing each other, so close his body heat enveloped her and she could see every one of the thick eyelashes that framed his deep blue eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Again...I’d think that was obvious.”
“I mean...that face, those eyes, you could have any woman you wanted. Why are you here with someone who smells like horses most of the time, only wears makeup and high heels when she has to, and hasn’t seen the inside of a beauty parlor in too many years? You could do better. Or is it just that I’m convenient and willing?”
Slade locked gazes with her and remained silent for so long she thought he might not answer. His fingers combed idly through her hair, and he pressed a kiss to her nose. “All I ever smell on you is alfalfa hay, which I like, and your peach shampoo, which I find a turn-on.” He traced the shell of her ear with his thumb and shivers raced through her. “And why wear makeup and heels when you look so hot in boots and jeans?” He tweaked her chin. “This face doesn’t need makeup to be beautiful.”
She smiled, ridiculously touched by his sweet words. “I really wasn’t digging for compliments.”
He put a finger over her lips to silence her. “As far as the inside of a beauty parlor, I much prefer what the outdoors does for you. The pink the cold air puts in your cheeks, the sexy mussing the wind gives your hair, the shine of the sun in your hair.”
Warmth spread through her chest. “What do you know? You’re a poet.”
He scoffed. “If you think that’s poetry, you’re clearly not well read.”
“What I think is that beneath your tough guy, cowboy, lawman mask beats the heart of a gentle soul. A sweet man.”
He scowled again. “For the record, most men I know don’t like to be called sweet.”
She flashed him a lopsided grin. “Well, to me, you are. Sweet and gentle and ki—”
With a growl, he pushed her back on the mattress and pinned her with his body. His eyes narrowed, and some dark emotion flickered in their depths. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. “Don’t.”
“Wha—?”
His mouth captured hers, silencing her. His kiss was hot and thorough, his tongue probing and exploring her mouth with a firm authority. A guttural sound rumbled in his throat as he raised her arms above her head, pinning them with one hand on her wrists. With his other hand, he covered a breast, shaping and kneading it, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Fiery sensations flowed through her, quickly heating her body and spiking her arousal.
She settled into his demanding kiss, returning his fervor, even if the change of pace and mood was rather abrupt. Clearly he was bent on banishing ideas of soft and gentle from her mind. Their teeth clicked as he deepened the kiss, and when he wedged his knee between her thighs, she wrapped her legs around him.
He stroked his hand down her body, squeezing her bottom and angling her hips so that her most sensitive area was pressed against his hard flesh. He rocked his hips, and the friction of his body against hers shot sparks through her blood. He moved his mouth to the curve between her neck and shoulder, and he raked her skin with his teeth and tongue.
“Slade,” she gasped, her need quickly spiraling tighter, ready to spring, and he answered with a low moan of pleasure.
He took the condom from the bedside stand and ripped it open with is teeth. He sheathed himself with amazing one-handed dexterity while his hot gaze bore into hers. Hooking an arm behind one of her knees, he bent her leg, lifting it toward her belly. Then with one long thrust, he sank into her. She was ready for him, but the sudden pressure as he stretched and filled her made her gasp. As soon as her body accommodated him, he withdrew and entered her again with jolting force. Then again. And again.
This forceful, rough-and-tumble version of Slade kick-started her pulse, but she wasn’t afraid. Her instinctive trust in him, her certainty that she was safe, allowed her to free her inhibitions and follow where he led. She wiggled her arms, longing to free her hands from his restraining grasp and sink her fingers into his back, to cling to his shoulders as she bucked and matched the fierce clash of his body pumping into hers.
The sweet tension inside her torqued higher and hotter until she shattered. Waves of bliss, more powerful than she’d ever experienced, ever known possible, shook her to the core. A cry rose in her throat, and he quickly muffled it with a mind-numbing kiss.
His grip on her hands tightened to the point of pain as he climaxed. His body shuddered, and he buried his face against her neck, his breath hot on her skin. As the ripples of pleasure faded and her pulse slowed, she whispered, “Wow.”
Slade collapsed on her, and the tension in his body eased. He lay on top of her, unmoving, his weight and size immobilizing her. In the stillness and the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights, she listened to the ragged sough of his breath and hers, listened for Cheyenne’s whine and prayed they hadn’t wakened her.
They hadn’t been terribly loud, and he’d caught her spontaneous cry of ecstasy with a kiss. Had that been intentional? Was he, even in the throes of passion, thinking about her daughter’s welfare? It seemed unlikely, and yet...
“I’m sorry,” he murmured finally after several minutes of silence.
She wrinkled her nose. “For what?”
“I was...rough. More than I intended.” He angled his head and met her eyes with a deep furrow in his brow. “Did I hurt you?”
Amanda lifted her cheek in a half grin. “No. I can handle a little rough now and then. I used to ride broncs, don’t forget.”
He grunted and gave a little nod, though his eyes were still dark and chagrined.
“I am starting to lose feeling in my hands, though.” She tugged her arms, wiggling them in the grip he still had on her wrists.
“Oh,” he whispered, releasing her, “right. Sorry.”
She opened and closed her hand in a fist, then wrapped her arms around him. Plowing her fingers into his hair, she massaged his scalp and neck. “Ah, much better.”
He flashed a contrite grin and kissed her cheek.
She rested a hand on his chest, felt the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm, and met his eyes. Even before the vigorous sex she’d been bone-tired, but she felt compelled to get a handle on where things stood between her and Slade. Where did they go from here?
“So...now what?”
He tensed a bit. Sighed. Turned to pull her body back against his, spoon-style. “Now you sleep.”
“But what does—”
“Sleep, Amanda. We’re both beat. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
She started to protest, but the minute she opened her mouth, a jaw-cracking yawn overtook her. Maybe Slade was right. Maybe...
But curled against his body heat, sated from their lovemaking and worn out by the long day, she succumbed to the slumber weighting her eyelids.
As sleep claimed her, one last thought filtered through her brain. Did the warmth in her heart mean she was falling in love?
Chapter 15
Tom reported for duty the next morning, claiming to feel much better and blaming his illness on his wife’s cooking. “I knew that chicken didn’t taste right, but she swore it had baked long enough.”
Amanda, who’d had food poisoning once in college, cringed in sympathy. “Well, I’m glad you’re better. And the good news is, chickpea seems to feel much better, too.”
Standing in her crib, holding the side railing, Cheyenne cooed at Tom and flashed two bottom teeth as she gri
nned.
“That’s the best news I’ve had all morning.” Tom winked at Cheyenne and handed her the killer whale toy she’d tossed out on the floor.
Cheyenne squealed her delight at having her new favorite toy back and stuck the whale’s tail in her mouth to gnaw.
“I’d like to check a few things in the stable, and then I thought I’d take Cheyenne to visit the animals in the petting barn. You feel up to joining us?”
“Absolutely. Lead the way.”
Tom followed Amanda out to the stable, where the morning buzz of activity was in full swing—feeding, grooming, stall mucking and ribald teasing among the hands.
“Watch your language, men,” Tom said, his tone and manner fully reminiscent of the military and police officer he used to be. “There’s a lady on deck.”
“That’s no lady, that’s Amanda,” George said with a grin, and the other men laughed.
Amanda gave the hand a playful punch in the arm. “That’s right. You’re the lady around here. Aren’t ya, George?”
The other hands hooted and guffawed even louder, and George shook his head, his face red.
Slade emerged from the storage room at the back of the stable and cast a curious look around the hands. When his gaze found Amanda’s, his cheek twitched in a private grin. “Morning, Amanda, Tom.”
“Don’t mind us,” Amanda said. “I just wanted to visit PW and have a quick look at the sore on Ranger’s hoof.”
“It looked better to me when I checked it a while ago,” Jared said.
Slade’s attention shifted to Cheyenne, and Cheyenne gave Slade a shy grin before hiding her face in Amanda’s shoulder. In her hand, Cheyenne clutched the killer whale he’d bought her.
Slade stepped closer to tickle Cheyenne’s belly. “What’s new, little girl?”
“Her cold is almost gone. She’s been all grins this morning.” Warmth swelled in Amanda’s chest watching Slade interact with her daughter.
Cheyenne held out the killer whale and said, “Gee!”
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