Rodeo Nights

by Patricia McLinn

  She leaned back enough to see his expression, and wondered at the atavistic thrill she felt knowing he meant every word.

  Civilization won out. She took his hand and led him the few steps down the hall to her bedroom. Once across the threshold, he came up next to her with one long stride and they approached the bed side by side.

  She hesitated, and he seemed to sense it, turning her into his arms almost before she realized she’d gone still.

  One of his big, roughened hands rose to the wisps of hair that had curled from the shower’s moisture. “You smell so good, Kalli. Clean and bright. I should take a shower.”

  She shook her head, all hesitation gone. She unbuttoned his shirt, fingers moving quickly despite not being entirely steady. He stood quiet under her hands, though she felt his breathing speed up. But when her bands went to his belt buckle and the backs of her fingers brushed against the hot skin that covered his flat, hard belly, the muscles there jerked and he sucked in a breath.

  “No shower,” she ordered, smiling a little at the sense of power he gave her. “You smell like you.”

  The quirk of his brows and the lopsided grin showed he was unconvinced. Still, he pushed her robe off her shoulders, and she cooperated, shifting her arms so it drifted down, over her hands, along the slick surface of her gown and to the floor.

  “God, you’re beautiful.”

  He kissed her, long and deep, the rhythm of it communicating to their bodies, until they moved against each other with the same tempo.

  Backing off a few inches, he released her mouth. A breath of fear stirred across her at the separation.

  Then he slid his hands between them, stroking her breasts through the silky material, and what stirred through her had nothing to do with fear.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, then seemed to rouse himself. “Kalli, a quick shower—”

  “No.” She’d waited ten years for him; she wouldn’t leave any opening for fear to drive a wedge between them now.

  “No, I like the way you smell.”

  His fingers found her nipples, circling them lightly, then with more pressure, then lightly again. And she wanted more. She wanted his mouth on them as it had been at Sunset Rock. And she wanted even more than that. She wanted him. All of him.

  “Like a barn, you mean?” Even short of breath, his voice sounded wry. He’d dropped one strap off her shoulder and slipped his hand inside the loosened neck of her gown to resume his magical torment on bare skin.

  Sliding his shirt down his arms, she deprived herself of the pleasure he gave to free him of the covering and to satisfy her own need to stroke her palms across the power of his chest. He made a slight sound as she pressed her lips to his collarbone.

  “Like dust and leather and animal and sagebrush,” she finally answered.

  Her kisses traveled lower, until she pressed one to the skin where the back of her fingers had brushed before. With her tongue, she circled the area, just above the open belt buckle, while her fingers opened the snap.

  “That’s it,” he said in a voice that declared he’d finished trying to make her see reason. A voice drained of patience and resistance.

  His muscles under her mouth clenched, then Walker was in motion.

  The gown came off her in a hurry. Her back met the mattress the same way as he tumbled her into bed. He stretched atop her, kissing her deep and long, but not nearly long enough, as he pushed himself upright.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered as he yanked off boots and jeans. As if she’d had any intention of moving, when her lungs burned and her bones melted at the sight of his long, hard body, etched and molded by the years and the work to something so fine it made her eyes fill.

  And then there was only the frenzy of trying to get enough of each other when it couldn’t be done, no matter how much they kissed and touched and kissed again.

  His mouth at the back of her knee. His palm caressing her calf and sole. His tongue tracing the curve of her neck and shoulder.

  Her fingers finding the flat brown circle of his nipple and drawing a groan from him. Her teeth pressed lightly into his earlobe, then soothing with her tongue.

  His knee between hers, spreading her legs so she opened a place for him.

  Her feet stroking against the back of his calves as he moved against her.

  The only pause came when he shifted to draw on the condom he’d pulled from a pocket. Suddenly, she felt shy, of him, of the process. They hadn’t ever bothered before. But the world had changed. Circumstances had changed. They had changed. And he was, indeed, a good man.

  He bowed his back to kiss her waist, tasting her skin with his tongue and lips, then moving lower. Heat, such heat. And a fizzing in her muscles that made it impossible to hold still. But the last thing she wanted was to move away from this spot, this moment, this man, so she was left to small movements, shifting and squirming. His mouth moved lower still, pressing a kiss against her that made her gasp— an inarticulate sound she hardly recognized as her own.

  “You taste so sweet, Kalli.”

  He straightened his back, dropping light kisses on her breasts. Then he took one nipple into his mouth, stretching across her body, giving her his weight for the first time. It felt so good...

  Sucking lightly, he stroked his tongue over her nipple, then slid a hand between their bodies, pressing against her, slipping his finger slowly inside her.

  “Walker.”

  Arching against him, she held on, digging her fingers into his shoulders. So much, she wanted him so much.

  She ran her hands down his back, savoring the feel of him the way she savored his scent. Over muscles clenched tight in restraint, her hands slid lower, urging him to her.

  Poised to enter her, he held. She let out a breath in a sharp sound of frustration. But still he didn’t move. Not until her eyes met his. Not until she was locked in their blue, blue depths.

  Then he moved. Slowly, inexorably into her. She could feel her body adjusting to his presence, adapting, welcoming. He withdrew, nearly as slowly, then returned, the pace no longer measured. She lifted her hips, drawing him deeper inside her, tighter. He stroked into her again, even deeper. And again. She met him, and matched him.

  Until the movements weren’t small at all, but strong, powerful sweeps that drew them deeper and deeper into each other. To a place so deep, they were reaching up, reaching for something far above them and bright, like the great orange ball of the sun, hanging above the peaks that came closer and closer together and grew higher and sharper, until the tallest and sharpest finally touched it, and the sun burst. Showering them in a glittering stream of light and heat and brilliance.

  And peace.

  * * *

  HER FINGERS FOLLOWED an idle path across his shoulders, chest and abdomen. It was a pleasant idleness, satisfying a lingering urge to touch, but not too taxing on her sated, exhausted muscles.

  That changed when she realized the paths were not so idle, but often followed thin, raised lines mapped across his skin.

  She raised herself on one elbow to get a better look.

  Scars.

  A dozen? More? Each thread of lightened skin was a testament to some injury he’d suffered, some pain he’d endured.

  “Oh, Walker.” She shuddered at the vision that came too quickly to be ignored, of his being hurt. “I’m so glad you’re not riding this summer.”

  The words came out before she could stop them, but maybe it was just as well. Maybe being away from the circuit, he would learn he didn’t need rodeo the way he thought he did. Maybe this time, he would choose her.

  Under her hand, she felt him hold his breath. Then her hand lowered along with his chest as the air streamed out of him.

  “Don’t let these bother you. Every rodeo hand needs a few scars,” he said.

  His light tone closed a door. What choice did she have other than to follow his lead. She raised her head to quirk an eyebrow at him. “To prove how macho he is?”

  He grimace
d at that, then grinned, mischief lighting his eyes. “Nah, no need for that. Need scars to weed through all the women.”

  An abrupt, sharp slice of jealousy tightened her fingers on his flesh. Almost as quickly, she tried to turn it into a tickling caress.

  He wasn’t fooled.

  “Ow! What’d you do that for?” he asked. But the hint of satisfaction in his voice said he knew why she’d done it, and he liked it.

  “Just disproving your statement about rodeo cowboys being macho,” she said silkily. Then continued, to show his dealings with women between their past and now didn’t concern her. “So, how do the scars help you weed through women?”

  Since the question accompanied a deliberate trailing of the back of her fingers down his abdomen, over the hardness of his hip and down the front of his thigh, she was pleased that his answer came in a markedly lower, rougher voice.

  “You know rodeo hands can have sensitive souls. Don’t want to get chased for shallow reasons. A few scars eliminate the ones just after your body.”

  With her arm fully extended, she straightened her fingers, dragging the nails lightly over his flesh until the pads of her fingers stroked him, sliding temptingly up the inside of his thigh.

  “Kalli...”

  Did the warning or the hunger in his voice make her hesitate a fraction? It didn’t matter.

  She continued with light, feathered strokes, eluding his hand when he tried to capture hers. Ignoring his shifting to try to push himself harder into her hand, she continued the slight connections of skin against skin that could hardly explain the pulsing changes in his body, the clenching of muscles in his thighs.

  Except that these same light touches were producing such a strong effect in her, too.

  Blindly, he reached behind his head to where one leg of his jeans had landed. He hauled on the denim until he could dig in the pocket and extract another foil packet. She watched the procedure with interest, assisting with more of those light, fleeting touches that had him grinding his teeth between promises of a retribution she was more than ready to withstand.

  When he let loose a curse, rose partway to grasp her hips and draw her atop him, she cooperated by levering herself above him until she felt him at her entry.

  ‘‘Kalli...”

  With the sound of her name on his lips, she took him inside.

  He met her, one hand still at her hip, the other curving over her breast.

  It was fast and hard. And glorious.

  So long. Too long.

  They collapsed, still joined, too exhausted to move. She thought of nothing, long after their breathing returned to normal. Just lay on him, relishing the presence of him inside her, listening to the wonder of Walker’s heartbeat.

  “You’re going to be the death of me, Kalli.”

  She smiled into his neck and shifted slightly.

  His instant response affected her most intimately.

  “I wouldn’t count on it, you know,” she said.

  His hands tightened on her lower back, pressing her more fully to him. “On your killing me?”

  “Well, not that, either, since you already seem to be, uh, coming to life. But I meant I wouldn’t count on a few scars keeping the women away from your body.”

  “Yeah?” It came out mostly a growl.

  “Yeah.”

  “As long as they don’t keep you away from my body, Kalli.”

  Then he moved against her again, and there was no more talking.

  * * *

  WITH MEMORIES OF Kalli so impressed in his senses that holding the steering wheel awakened echoes of stroking her skin, Walker found the drive to see Jeff and Mary went by fast. Almost frighteningly fast. Not only because of highway safety, but because of his emotional safety.

  Physically, the pull between them was as strong as ever. Or stronger.

  That thought tucked a frown between his brows as he neared Billings. He’d been practically a kid when they’d been together, with all a kid’s energy and hormones. But he couldn’t deny that their lovemaking last night and this morning had taken him higher, rocked him deeper than he’d ever been before.

  That’s what bothered him.

  Because that meant a whole hell of a lot beyond physical was involved, and that’s where they got in trouble.

  The physical pull might not have suffered from ten years apart, but the emotional bonds were as fragile as a thread holding a bull. Those bonds had broken once when a couple of fool kids stretched them too far.

  Or had they broken? Maybe they’d partially unraveled, leaving neither of them totally free, but not quite connected, either.

  He and Kalli had done some mending this summer, but even if they patched the bonds, would they be strong enough to keep her here this time?

  Because that’s what he wanted. Kalli by his side, for good.

  All those promises to himself about reining in his dreams to just the summer were no better than lies, he acknowledged grimly as he pulled in to the hospital parking lot. He knew what he wanted, and it didn’t end with the last Saturday in August. It ended with gray hair, rocking chairs and enough children, grandchildren and—what the hell—great-grandchildren to carpet the valley.

  But wanting didn’t make it so.

  He found a parking spot for the truck, turned off the engine and unhooked his seat belt, but he didn’t get out right away. Enough breeze came through the open windows to ease the sun’s warmth.

  He didn’t like not telling Kalli the whole truth of what he was thinking—dreaming—but could he risk it?

  If—when, dammit, when, he corrected himself viciously—she left come September, he’d have a hurt to bear even worse than her leaving the first time. But if he told her he wanted forever and she pulled away from him before she left...

  No, he couldn’t risk scaring her off.

  He adjusted his hat and climbed out, trying to shift his mental gears to visiting with Jeff and Mary.

  He wasn’t entirely successful.

  Walker certainly took in the fact of Jeff’s improvement, and the news that the staff had mentioned letting him leave the hospital, though he’d have to stay in Billings a while longer. He and Mary would live with her cousin while Jeff got in-home care and continued intensive therapy.

  Jeff might even be allowed one or two overnight visits to Park during that phase, as a transition to the next step, when he became an official outpatient, living at home and commuting two or three days a week for therapy.

  “And I bet you’re just itching to come by the rodeo and check up on us, aren’t you?” Walker asked with a grin.

  He and Kalli had agreed to wait until he saw on this trip how far along Jeff had come before deciding whether to tell him about the committee’s ultimatum.

  “First stop,” his uncle promised, laughter and determination glinting in his eyes. His expression grew serious then. “But promised Mary it won’t be last stop. Promised myself, too.”

  Walker looked from one to the other. He’d known them all his life, spent every summer and most holidays with them. For most of his life, when he thought of home, it was the Jeffries ranch. In all that time, he couldn’t remember seeing them look at each other with more love than they did right now.

  That’s what he wanted with Kalli.

  “What...” He cleared his throat. “What do you mean, Jeff?”

  “We’re going to take some time. Enjoy things. That’s what I mean.”

  “Not give up the rodeo,” Mary explained, her eyes studying Walker in the quiet way she had. “But we’re talking about getting more help. So we can go off and do things without being tied to it all the time. And take things a little slower than we have been. Not just with the rodeo, either. We’ve been saying for years we might lease off some of our land. Now seems a good time to do it.”

  That pronouncement dropped heavy in the air. They’d talked about leasing it to him, so he could run more stock while he got his own place going full speed. But all of that was supposed to be for
some distant time in the future, when he quit the rodeo circuit, when he’d be around all the time to work his place and their land. He couldn’t do that while he was rodeoing.

  Not yet. I’m not ready to quit.

  The cry from his heart was followed almost immediately by one from his head. Would he ever be? Would he ever be ready to let go of something he loved so much?

  “Nothing firm yet,” Jeff said. “Maybe try that south section.”

  “Nels Carmody has asked about leasing that section now and again,” Mary agreed, contributing to the effort to smooth over the moment of silence.

  Walker did his part, too, and the conversation drifted to less perilous waters, until Jeff started to flag and Mary gave Walker a subtle sign.

  He took his leave and she followed, kissing her husband and promising to be back soon.

  “Not too soon,” Jeff said sleepily. “Get a good meal out of this boy.”

  Walker, who’d insisted on taking Mary to lunch, grinned at both Jeff’s admonition to his wife, and his calling a thirty-three-year-old beat-up rodeo hand “boy.”

  Jeff was already nodding off when they eased the door closed behind them.

  “He’s looking good,” Walker said when he had Mary settled in the truck, heading for a small restaurant he knew. “Almost like his old self.”

  “He’s doing better, that’s for sure,” Mary said, then let a silence fall.

  Caught up in other thoughts, he barely noticed. But he noticed her next statement.

  “They won’t forgive her this time.”

  “What?”

  “They won’t forgive her a second time.”

  He supposed he should have asked who, just for form’s sake, but he’d never had the heart to play games with Mary, especially since they never worked. But how the hell could she know the shift that his and Kalli’s relationship had taken? Did the desire ooze out of his pores? Was passion so clearly imprinted on his face?

  “What do you mean, Mary?” His throat tightened some around that because on some level he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.