by Jillian Neal
She cried out for him and for more. Her body trembled against his. The steel-hard, hot length of him pressed harder between her cheeks. She rocked back against him, tensing her ass around him.
“Jesus Christ, that feels good.” His words kept her spellbound. She soared. Every fervent stroke deep within her pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Pulsing pressure built behind her mound. She begged for release, and the last thing she heard before she spiraled over was, “Come for me.”
Her body flexed rapidly against his fingers and then they were gone. She was coming around nothing. Before the emptiness could register and she could protest, he filled her full, thrusting to his hilt, amplifying the current of pleasure he’d given her.
His raw heat filled every hollow. The waves of excruciating pleasure began again.
A string of expletives flew from his mouth in a reverent groan followed by, “So … damn … tight.”
His satisfaction sated her soul.
This was more than she’d ever fathomed. He was more than she could ever possibly deserve. It felt too good. The air between them stretched so thin she couldn’t breathe. The depth of his position drove his quick shallow thrusts right where she so desperately needed them. When his fingers honed in on her clit as he pounded with unrelenting force, she gave herself over. Too good, the words echoed in her head. The overwhelming masculinity surrounding her muted all other sound.
Too good. Oh, God. Too good. Wait! “Grant,” she gasped. “Condom.” But she was too close. She couldn’t fight the tide he drowned her with. She shuddered and felt her muscles seize around him.
“Fuck,” he jerked away and splashes of hot cum soaked down her ass. Again and again. The man was nothing if not potent.
Willing her hearing to return quickly, she felt the sheet he’d wadded up scrub away his seed. Some devious part of her, the part of her he accessed far too easily, wished he’d asked her to wear it. She turned over, swallowing before making her apologies.
“Some fucking time I’m gonna fuck you and not have to fucking apologize afterwards. Damn, I’m such an idiot.”
“Stop it,” she demanded with enough force she shocked herself. “You are not an idiot, and I’m on the pill. It’s just … I should be the one apologizing to you.”
Scooping her up in his arms, he cradled her in his lap. “Why in God’s name would you apologize for me forgetting the condom?”
“Because the only reason we need a condom is Seth. I … well … he and Kelsey and all of that. I might have something, I guess. I’ll go get checked … somewhere.”
“I ever meet the motherfucker, I’ll skin him alive just before I turn him out with the bulls, fair warning.”
“I’m so sorry.” Unwelcomed regret ate at her. She didn’t want to think about Seth or Kelsey or anything but Grant and what they’d just done.
“I ain’t gonna kill him for you thinking we need a condom. I’m gonna kill him for being a Grade A asshole who hurt you and made you have to go get checked out.”
“I’ve known Kelsey most of my life.” Her voice caught. Dammit, she would not feel any feelings about this. She had no time for any feelings other than the all-consuming ones she felt for Grant. “I would know if she had something. It’s just … I don’t know if she was the only other girl.” Bile flooded her throat. She never wanted to think about being with Seth again in her life. That had been sex—boring, obligatory, rare, and unsatisfying. This was none of those things. This was something else entirely. This was everything.
“Hey,” Grant’s fingertips gently stroked her jaw as he lifted her chin. “I don’t give a damn. I want you just the way you are. I told you that, and I meant it. I also told you I’d never lie to you, so listen up. This afternoon when I get back from driving cattle and clearing out crops, I’m gonna have you again, and this time I’m gonna watch my cum drip out of your swollen pussy, ripe and raw from how hard I take you. And that is the only thing I want you to think about while I’m gone today.”
Never before in her life had she understood how the truth could set anyone free. In her experience, the truth hurt. It was occasionally too much to bear. But with every word Grant spoke, every unguarded truth that flew from those flawless lips of his, she felt her soul make another attempt to break free from the shackles of expectation other people had placed upon her life.
“Want me to say all that again, peaches?” She got another one of those winks that she swore quaked in her soul.
“No. I heard you.”
“Good. Now, the water’s back on. Let it run for a few before you try and use it. Probably muddy. I’ll grab breakfast up at Mama and Daddy’s. You go back to sleep. Got another hour before the sun’s even up.”
“I feel bad sleeping while you work.”
“Don’t feel bad. You need your rest. I told you, sugar, I’m relentless.” Laying her back down in the bed, he spread her legs again and brushed a kiss along her swollen folds.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting a fix before I go.” He swirled his tongue inside of her and then immediately rose up and gave her a no-less decadent kiss on her other set of lips. “Damn, I’m gonna miss you.”
“You won’t be gone long, right?” She needed him there with her. Why did there even have to be a world beyond them? That made precious little sense at four-thirty in the morning after being taken so thoroughly twice in the last seven hours.
“I could be gone less than five minutes and still miss you like crazy, peaches.”
Being missed wasn’t something she was used to experiencing either. Seth had never once told her he missed her, even when they would go weeks without seeing each other. Depending on how long he’d been seeing Kelsey on the sly, she assumed he didn’t care. At the time, she’d told herself it was because he was so laid back. He never cared about much of anything other than his car, his bank accounts, and his laptops.
On full display, naked before a demanding, hot-blooded, eager cowboy whose craving stare rendered her weak assured her that laid-back was no longer an appealing quality.
Grant slid into a pair of clean Wranglers he located in the closet, and Kaitlyn slunk back down in the soft coverings on his bed. She enveloped herself in the remnant of heat from his body and his heady scent. Reminding herself to wash the sheets later, she watched as he buttoned up a starched shirt and pulled on a pair of thick wool socks.
When he finished, he seated himself on the bed with another pair of his socks. Fishing her feet out from under the covers, he put the socks on her.
“How did you know my feet were cold?” Being thoroughly taken care of wasn’t something she’d been accustomed to either.
“Because you had ‘em up against my feet all night, sweetness. I ain’t gonna be here to keep you warm. It’s my job to take good care of you even when I’m out working.”
“You’re the best thing ever.”
“You just keep telling yourself that. I’ll be back quick.”
Still reflecting on his vow that he would miss her, Kaitlyn tried to recall if her parents had ever missed her. Her mother used to say it occasionally when she was in New York, but usually their conversations revolved around what Keith was doing and when they’d last had contact with him. The ‘miss you’ had become almost as habitual as the ‘love you’ at the end of their phone calls.
Insubstantial words that held no more weight than the emotion they carried, spoken far too often and somehow, not often enough.
Chapter Twenty
The sun was high in the sky the next time Kaitlyn awoke. In those moments between being fully asleep and fully awake, in the twilight of consciousness, before her body fully understood why she was waking up in an unfamiliar bed, her heart knew precisely where it wanted to be. She never wanted to leave his arms. No matter what happened outside of the ranch, she wanted to stay right where she was. She’d never been more certain of anything in her life.
A smirk creased her features as she recalled the first time she’d been
awoken. Refusing to open her eyes just yet, she recalled every single delicious thing Grant had said during their morning session and then every wicked thing he’d done with his body.
When her stomach grumbled out its complaint at her lack of nourishment, she slid her arms along the cool sheets and stretched, reveling in the tender ache between her legs. He was right. She did feel hollow without him. Lusciously hollow and ready for him to fill the empty spaces again.
Pleased with her own naughty thoughts, she climbed out of bed and oriented herself to the bedroom and the noises around her. Shower first? She considered but then shook her head. Coffee first.
Pure happiness drew a broad grin across her face as she slid into one of Grant’s t-shirts. The soft fabric teased at her nipples, erect from thinking about him.
Heading into the kitchen, she discovered a yellow notepad propped on the counter by the coffee maker. “Just press On. It’s ready to go. Hope you like it strong, peaches. Cream in fridge. Sugar in cabinet. Be back soon for a taste of your cream and sugar.” There was even a hastily scribbled jagged heart drawn at the bottom. It was clearly not a shape he drew often. She wondered if he’d ever written a note like this before. Telling herself he hadn’t, she beamed. As it so happened, she did like it strong.
If she’d had any idea that men like Grant existed or life could be like this, she would have dumped Seth’s sorry ass two years ago and told her father he was crazy if he thought Seth could ever make her happy.
Her father. Nope. Not going there. Her father and Seth and everyone she’d ever known before could just stay in Lincoln. She deserved a break.
After her shower, she dug through her multiple makeup bags until she located her new favorite scented lotion, peaches and cream. She spent the next half hour trying to achieve the coveted I-woke-up-like-this look and then decided to wash the sheets and the clothes she’d worn the day before. Still chilly despite the heat being on and wearing his socks, she traded his t-shirt for one of Grant’s starched button-down shirts and a lacy pair of boyshort panties she’d found at Victoria’s Secret at Gateway Mall. She rather enjoyed the fact that Grant would get to see her in them when Seth never had.
Boredom set in after that. She stalked around Grant’s kitchen searching for something to cook. She’d eaten a bowl of cereal she’d located behind the sugar in the cabinet. She wasn’t hungry, but desperately needed to create something. Not thinking about life two hours East was much easier when she was busy or when Grant was there.
Recipes she could impress him with flipped through her mind as she opened the freezer. A dozen Hungry Man meals stared back at her. Shaking her head, she opened the fridge. Eggs, three packages of some kind of meat wrapped in butcher paper, milk, a dozen bottles of Killian’s Red, four six-packs of Dr. Pepper, a half-pack of bacon she was pretty certain should have been thrown out a week ago, and a half bottle of ketchup.
The cabinets didn’t reveal anything more helpful, though she did locate a little salt, an old bottle of lemon pepper seasoning, and a spice jar of cinnamon. Even she wasn’t that creative.
The notepad and pen Grant had used to write her the note caught her eye. Doodling out a few hearts and a sunflower, she considered.
Turning to a fresh sheet of paper, she scripted Katy Belle Sommerville. Wrinkling her nose, she crossed that out. Next she wrote Katie Sommerville. Something was still off. She wrote it with a Y instead of an IE. Not bad. Maybe instead of New-Kaitlyn or Old-Kaitlyn she could figure out exactly who Katy was. Katy Camden played on the fringes of her imagination, but she couldn’t write that. Grant might see it and tempting fate seemed like a terrible idea. Plus, she needed to figure out Katy Sommerville first.
When the wind whipped into the house and lifted his shirt from her legs, excitement zinged through her. He was back. Attempting a sexy come get me grin, she spun only to discover his mother standing in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I knocked. I got worried when you didn’t answer,” Mrs. Camden immediately apologized.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Kaitlyn tugged at Grant’s shirt while cursing her stupid un-hearing ear. “I just didn’t hear you knock.”
“No problem. Grant mentioned that you needed some jeans. You’re about Natalie’s size so she sent me over with a couple of pairs you can borrow. She’s out helping Holly fix fences.”
“Oh, thank you. Uh … tell Natalie thanks, too. I really appreciate it. I’ll just … go … put these on.” Spinning back into the master bedroom, she shut the door and prayed the jeans would fit. She’d met Natalie briefly the day before, and Kaitlyn wasn’t certain she’d be able to snap them.
Arching her back and sucking in her stomach as much as she could, she held her breath, flung herself back on the bed, and got the button through the hole, cursing her love of food right along with her lack of hearing.
Victory! She even managed breath, though the waist was rather tight. Doing a few deep knee bends, she tried to stretch the denim a little before she remembered she’d left Grant’s mother in the living room.
Ordering herself to leave the bedroom, she debated. This wasn’t her house. Certainly his mother had been in the house far more than she ever had. They used to live there, after all. Playing it by ear was a phrase she generally abhorred, but that was precisely what she was going to have to do.
“Can I do anything to help out, Mrs. Camden? I feel kind of useless in here. I know there has to be a ton of work to do.” Discreetly she turned her left ear towards Grant’s mother. She had a hard time hearing her speak.
“Oh, honey, one thing you’ll learn real quick is that there is always work to be done. Nobody on a ranch has time to watch grass grow, but working constantly don’t make much of a life. That’s something Grant needs to learn. You’ll also discover that there’s plenty of work to go around. You’ll figure out just what you can do to help in due time. Besides, it sounds like you’ve had a time of it lately. Why don’t I make us some coffee and we’ll talk?”
That sounded nice. Pleasant, even. Only Kaitlyn wasn’t certain which version of herself she was supposed to be with Mrs. Camden. How pathetic was that? She didn’t know herself well enough to communicate.
Disgusted with herself, she forced a smile. “Sure. But let me make the coffee. I was looking for something to cook anyway. How about a cinnamon latte? I don’t have a way to whip any cream, but it should still be good.”
“Sounds delicious, sweetheart. Do you like to cook?”
The tension knotting Kaitlyn’s shoulder blades loosened. “Yes, ma’am. I love to cook. Other than spending time with Grant, it’s my very favorite thing to do.” Clamping her mouth shut the knot returned. “Sorry. Probably shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I keep saying whatever pops in my head.”
Inwardly lecturing herself, she concentrated on making another pot of coffee.
“You telling me you like spending time with my son isn’t something to apologize for. Makes me happier than you could ever know. And I ‘spect you’ve been trying for an awfully long time to keep your thoughts to yourself. Caged birds most often sing the songs of whoever holds the key, but you should hear their song when they’re finally free.” His mother joined her at the coffee maker. “All right, now, tell me what you’re doing because I’m always on board for new coffee.”
Grinning, Kaitlyn decided maybe it wasn’t only Grant that would allow her to exist however she wanted. Maybe here on the ranch she could take off the mantle of grief that kept her confined. If she could just set it down for a few moments, draw a full breath, have a few thoughts that were all her own, that weren’t poisoned with what someone else wanted her to be, then she could pick it all back up and live with it again. She just needed a break.
“If you layer the cinnamon between the scoops of coffee and then put a little bit of salt on top of the coffee grounds it helps the flavors of both to bloom fully. It will be delicious. I promise.”
“I believe you,
sweetheart.”
The simple phrase slipped into Kaitlyn’s one hearing ear and pricked tenderly at her heart. She didn’t have to prove anything to his mom, not even that she could make a great cup of coffee.
“Here, let me wash these. I know my son probably hasn’t done dishes in more than a week.” Mrs. Camden located two travel mugs with an AFR Insurance logo beside the sink. When she turned on the water, Kaitlyn busied herself with the coffee maker. She couldn’t hear much over the fall of water so she prayed Mrs. Camden wouldn’t talk until she’d turned it off.
“Would you like to have our coffee outside? Turned out to be a beautiful day.” Mrs. Camden gestured outside.
“What?” Kaitlyn asked almost reflexively. Defeat took another stab at her.
The way his mother studied her made her feel exposed, but her kind smile covered Kaitlyn like a warm blanket. “Right ear or left?”
“You Camdens are really good at figuring things out.”
“Well, that might be because we care about you, or it might be because on a ranch you have to pay attention to every little thing to keep the cattle safe so we’re trained to do that. Or it might be because my husband needs to get over his stubborn self and wear hearing aids and he won’t, so I recognize a few of the signs.”
“My left ear is my good ear. Did you say something about outside?”
Mrs. Camden eased closer to Kaitlyn’s left side. “I did. Thought you might want to have our coffee out there.” Her voice rose only a decibel or two, allowing Kaitlyn to hear her.
“Thanks for not screaming that at me. Most people do once they find out I don’t hear properly.”
“Well, most people haven’t figured out that the solution to the problem is usually a lot smaller than the problem itself.”
