by Mari Carr
A fact she didn’t bother to ignore. “Liked that, did you?”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, a little on the high side, so his hands were just touching the underside of her breasts. If she had been sure her dad, Oakley and Joel were out of sight, she would have encouraged him to cup her breasts. That way they’d both benefit—he’d have a way to hold on and she’d have a way to get off.
But she had no idea where anyone else was at the moment. For all she knew, everyone was watching them. In fact, she’d bet twenty bucks that’s exactly why her dad had gone upstairs. To stand at his bedroom window so he had a better view of the corral.
“You are one hell of a sexy cowgirl,” he murmured in her ear as they rode back to the stable. “The way you ride and rope. Jesus. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this turned on.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You think those skills translate to the bedroom?” she teased.
“I fucking hope so.”
They were still laughing when they entered the stable. Lorelie took the saddle off Penny. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said when she was finished.
“I like surprises.”
She led him to a ladder that led to the hayloft. Lorelie’d had a one-track mind all morning as she waited for Glen to arrive. Given the fact that his current state matched hers perfectly, she was hoping to entice him to expand on the make-out session they’d started last night by the creek.
He climbed the ladder closely behind her. When they arrived at the top, he chuckled. “Hmmm, I wonder what you could possibly have in mind?”
There was a huge pile of hay against the back wall. She’d thrown a couple of thick, soft blankets on top of it. Next to the makeshift bed were two bottles of Bud Light icing down in a wine bucket.
“I noticed you weren’t much of a wine drinker the other night at Wade’s. Figured you might like beer more.”
“You know, you’re not too shabby when it comes to romance yourself, Ms. Carr.”
She led him to the blankets and they sank down together. Glen twisted the top off one of the bottles and handed it to her before opening the other for himself.
Tapping the bottle against hers, he said, “To trying new things.”
“To new things,” she repeated as they both took a drink.
Glen glanced around the hayloft. “Surprisingly private up here.”
It was why Lorelie had chosen the place for their quiet drink and hopefully more.
There was a railing at the edge made of wide planks. Given their distance from it and the fact they were sitting down, they were completely hidden from anyone below who might venture into the stable. Not that Lorelie was expecting visitors. Her dad, Oakley and Joel should be heading out to the south pasture any minute and Sadie was working at Pitchers for a couple more hours. It was rare to be alone on the ranch, so Lorelie had learned to find quiet hiding places for the times she needed solitude.
The creek was one of those places. This hayloft, another.
They sipped their beers quietly for a few minutes before Glen put his back in the wine bucket. Lorelie followed suit.
And then he was there, kissing her. She’d never had anyone kiss her so passionately, so hungrily. Lorelie wondered if he could feel the same intense need in her kisses.
For a split second, she recalled that he was leaving in a couple weeks. And then, like always, she forced the thought away. She wasn’t about to waste a single second of their time together worrying about that.
Ever since her dad’s heart attack, she’d wallowed waist-deep in anxiety, constantly playing out every horrible ending to that story. She had lost months of her life consumed by the fear of what her future might hold. As such, she hadn’t enjoyed or paid attention to the here and now. So much lost time.
Glen pressed her to her back on the blanket, leaning over her. She wasn’t a short woman by any means, but Glen still made her feel almost delicate. His lips traveled from hers, along her neck, and he drew lines with his tongue on the sensitive skin there.
She’d been a bit chilly before, but between the blanket, the hay and Glen, she suddenly felt warm, feverish even.
Reaching down, Lorelie grasped the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. Glen had risen slightly, giving her room to move. Once she was in just her bra, he didn’t seek to resume his kisses. Instead, he looked his fill. He ran just one finger along the top of her bra, tracing the line against her breasts. It kept moving until he reached her shoulder. When he was there, he slid the strap over, then repeated the action on the other side. He used both hands to draw down the cups of her cotton bra, baring her breast while leaving the thing hooked around her upper torso.
She didn’t speak. Hell, she wasn’t sure she was breathing, when he bent his head lower and sucked one turgid nipple into his mouth. Given the gentleness of his previous touches, she was surprised by the amount of pressure he applied. Sparks flashed along her spine and her pussy constricted, painfully empty.
While she’d adored Glen’s comments about wanting this to be about something more than sex, her body was having a hard time agreeing with that.
Glen turned his head and applied the same pressure to the other nipple as she gripped his hair, tugging it to hold him close. She’d never had so much beautiful attention paid to her breasts. Glen sucked, kissed, licked, nipped, pinched and played with them like he had all the time in the world. She loved every minute of it, even though her body was demanding more. Way more.
After a hundred years, he lifted his head to look at her.
“Please take your shirt off,” she said.
Glen didn’t hesitate. He unbuttoned it, tossing his next to hers.
“Take your pants off,” she added after the first request was granted so easily.
He chuckled. “Nope.”
“You aren’t a very nice man.”
Glen gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I think you’re going to regret those words when you see what comes next.”
She didn’t have time to question him—or even feel the need to—when he reached for the button on her jeans, slipping it free. She held her breath as he slid the zipper south and then she lifted her hips, so he could tug the jeans down.
Glen clearly wasn’t the type to mess around, because the panties went with the denim. She was wearing her damn cowboy boots, but he wasn’t deterred. He pulled one boot off, and then worked that leg of the jeans and panties off as well. She expected him to do the same to the other leg, so she was surprised when he moved back up, covering her with his body. He was shirtless, which gave her hands plenty to enjoy, but still wearing too many clothes below the waist to do her any good. Even though she was way more naked than dressed.
“Your turn?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Just you this time. I’m already going further than I’d intended, but it’s too damn hard to keep my hands off you.”
Glen began kissing her again, not bothering to acknowledge the parts of her he’d just undressed. Lorelie wrapped her ankles around his hips, dragging the half-on/half-off jeans along for the ride, and began to gyrate against his crotch. She hoped the action would stir Glen to, well, action.
It didn’t work.
Then she ran her fingernails along the muscles of his bare back, digging in deeper than she normally would have, hoping that would get his attention. If anything, Glen’s kisses became softer, calmer.
Lorelie was an impatient person on good days. This wasn’t a good day, and the man was driving her out of her mind.
When her unsatisfied arousal reached fever pitch, she twisted her face away from him. “Glen, I—”
“You finished?” he asked, interrupting her before she could read him the riot act.
“Finished what? We haven’t even started!”
Glen leaned up on his elbows, cupping her cheeks. His face was only inches above hers and she was confused by what she saw there. Amusement and…maybe frustration.
“Six lovers, you
said.”
Lorelie nodded, wondering where the hell that comment had come from.
“I understand now why you think those six were plenty. Did any of them ever make you come?”
“I had orgasms with them.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She knew that. And she knew exactly what he was alluding to. She’d had orgasms with her other lovers. Orgasms that wouldn’t have happened without her doing everything in her power to help the situation along.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my own needs,” she said at last.
“Jesus. Add another thing to our agenda for the next two weeks. In addition to romance, I’m going to show you what it’s like to go to bed with a man who knows what the fuck he’s doing.”
“You’re being cocky again.”
“Call me that after.”
“After what?”
Glen didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for his shirt. “First thing I need to do is get you out of the way.”
She snorted. “Won’t that defeat the purp—”
Her words died abruptly when Glen grasped both her hands and pulled them above her head. He used his shirt to bind them together. “I don’t have anything to tie the shirt to, so you’re on the honor system. Keep your hands up there. Don’t lower them. At all. Understand?”
She nodded, while trying to discreetly test the cotton binding her. He may be a city boy, but damn if he didn’t know how to tie a knot.
“It’s gonna hold, darlin’. You can quit trying to break free.”
“But I can’t touch you this way.”
“That’s the point.”
Lorelie had never considered herself sexually inexperienced until that moment. Everything with Glen felt foreign and exciting as fuck. She’d never considered bondage something she would find sexually stimulating, but the idea of being held captive by him was provoking tingles she had never felt before.
Glen slid lower, returning to her breasts. While he sucked on one nipple, he pinched the other. His touches were even rougher, stronger.
Lorelie’s hips started the same rise and fall, almost of their own volition. She’d never experienced such painful need. Her pussy was throbbing, clenching tighter with each hard suck, each pinch.
“God, Glen,” she gasped. “Please.”
Several minutes passed before he gave in to her pleas. By then, her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling, her heart thumping louder than a bass drum.
When he touched her clit, her body jerked as if she’d been struck by lightning.
Jesus. One touch and she was poised to go off like a bottle rocket.
Glen’s finger slid lower, swirling around the opening to her body. It probably felt like a Slip ’N Slide down there. She’d never been so wet in her life.
When he pressed that lone digit inside her, Lorelie felt the uncontrollable desire to cry. Not from pain or sadness, but with overpowering relief. He thrust the finger in and out several times before adding a second.
It had been too long. She hadn’t even masturbated since her dad’s heart attack. That fact was driven home as she marveled over how full she felt. He was only using two fingers.
Glen continued to work them inside her, setting an easy, gentle pace, giving her time to get accustomed to him. Or maybe he was trying to slow down the inevitable orgasm. She was so freaking close.
Lorelie had just opened her mouth to ask him to move faster, take her harder, when they heard voices in the stable below.
Both of them froze when they heard her dad talking to Oakley. “You got the truck loaded?”
“Yeah,” Oakley responded.
Lorelie didn’t move a muscle as she considered what would happen if Dad or Oakley climbed the ladder. She was lying almost completely naked in the hayloft, her hands tied above her head, and Glen had two fingers buried deep inside her.
If she weren’t on the verge of panic, she’d laugh her ass off.
She’d been looking toward the railing—but her gaze flew to Glen’s face when he began thrusting his fingers inside her again.
Her eyes widened and she shook her head no. This time he was giving her exactly what she’d just been about to ask for. Instead of two fingers, he used three, and while his movements were quiet, they were deadly to her self-control. Her mouth flew open as she tried to suck in some much-needed air. Then she mouthed, “What are you doing?”
Glen, the gorgeous bastard, just winked at her. Then he stroked her clit with his thumb.
She closed her eyes tightly and bit her bottom lip so hard she thought she tasted blood. Her dad and Oakley were having some discussion about what tools they needed.
Jesus. She was going to come. Right here. Right now. With her dad no less that twenty-five feet below her.
She was going to kill Glen when this was over.
Maybe.
Glen continued to thrust his fingers inside her as he leaned closer, his face only an inch or so from her ear. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are right now?” he whispered.
Shit. She’d been able to battle the orgasm on a physical level, but now he was adding emotional warfare to the game. She couldn’t win.
She was going to come. And it wasn’t going to be quiet.
Glen’s thumb grazed her clit again and she jerked, everything inside her turned to static. Static and this screaming white noise that deafened her. Her body trembled and shook as the orgasm rumbled through her like a freight train.
It was so powerful it almost hurt. The world turned to black as she closed her eyes and gave in. It was lightning, thunder, crashing waves, and every other crazy description she’d ever heard used to describe a sensation that simply couldn’t be put into words.
When she finally opened her eyes, she realized she’d lost time. Glen was sitting next to her on the blanket and the voices below were gone. In fact, she could just make out the sound of the old ranch truck in the distance.
Glen reached out and ran his fingers along her cheek, clueing her in to the wetness there. Was she crying? Why would she be crying?
She touched her own face and found his shirt gone. “You untied me.”
He nodded, his expression one of almost wonder.
“What?” she said.
“We’re in trouble, Lori.”
She sat up quickly, pulling the blanket over her as she glanced behind him for her father. Had they been caught?
“What do you mean? Dad?”
Glen shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. They were gone before you came. They didn’t hear a thing.”
That surprised her. She really had lost track of time. Because she could’ve sworn Dad and Oakley had just been here a minute ago.
“Then what’s the trouble?”
“Two weeks isn’t going to be enough.”
She smiled, even as his reminder of the time limit looming over their heads sent a sharp stab straight through her heart. She agreed with him, but old habits died hard. When Lorelie was stressed out, she turned to humor. “Most people decide that two hours with me is enough. Give it time.”
He grinned, and she was relieved. When he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face, she pretended the tightness in her chest had nothing to do with this unfamiliar feeling. She’d seen this man a total of four times in her life. Four times.
It was too soon to attach any sort of name to what was happening here. In truth, it was better if they didn’t try to name it. So she sought for a way to change the subject.
“Glen. I take back what I said. You’re not cocky. Or well, actually, you kind of are. But you have every right to be. That was amazing. I didn’t… I never—”
“You’re going to do it again for me. Because that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. And next time, I’m going to be right there with you.”
She pressed her legs together, shocked that he could make her feel so needy again after an almost brutal orgasm. “I swear to God, I think I heard my b
ones rattle when I came. I didn’t realize orgasms could feel like that. Maybe we could set up some sort of same-time-next-year deal, because I’m going to need a hit of that at least every twelve months, and God knows the yahoos around here aren’t capable enough.”
“You think once a year is enough?” he asked.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say hell no. To tell him once a day wouldn’t be enough, but they were already tiptoeing around an issue that was going to bite them in the ass.
She strengthened her resolve once more, merely shrugging rather than lying.
Live in the moment, Lorelie.
“So what next?” she asked, her gaze drifting lower. There was no denying Glen was still hard. He had to be hurting.
“I thought maybe we could finish the tour.”
His answer surprised her.
“What about…” She pointed at his crotch.
Glen chuckled. “Quick trip to the bathroom and I’ll fix that right up.”
“Or I—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Butterfly.”
“It’s just—”
“I told you my reasons before. They still stand.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I keep pushing.”
He laughed. “Don’t apologize. I assure you. This is uncharted territory for me too. Never wanted a woman as much as I want you. But I’m not willing to rush it.”
Lorelie tugged her bra back in place, and then put her T-shirt on. Glen did the same and then he helped her pull her jeans back up so she could put her boot on.
“Do you want to see my garden?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
They climbed down the ladder and spent the next two hours holding hands as she showed him the ranch, pointing out all her best hide-and-seek spots as a child and the place where her beloved dog, Scooter, was buried underneath the cherry tree next to the house. She told him that her garden had actually been her mother’s before she’d died, and that she was still planting the same vegetables and herbs. She showed him the kitchen and the small ranch manager’s house, where Oakley, Joel, and now Sadie lived.
She gave him a quick tour of the building they called the barracks, as well as the history. The barracks had been built nearly fifty years earlier by Lorelie’s great-grandfather. At that time, the ranch had been a larger operation, and as such, it had employed nearly a dozen ranch hands.
