Timing

by Mary Calmes

  “Oh heavens, did you see that too?” Her eyes widened as she looked at me. “My goodness sakes, it was horrible! Do you think maybe Ben’s father is tomcattin’ around, so she’s trying to get his roving eye back on her?”

  “Maybe,” I agreed. “That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

  “Can you two—Christ!” Rand yelled. “What the Cantwells do with—Mother, who the hell are you dating?”

  She smiled at him. “Would you like to meet my beau?”

  “Well, yeah.” He cleared his throat, scowling at me. “If you have a—well, yeah, I need to give my approval.”

  I scoffed.

  “You think I don’t?” He glared at me.

  “No, I don’t.” I chuckled.

  May pointed at me. “What he said.”

  “You—”

  “But I would love for you to meet him.” She grinned. “How about Monday night?” She looked back at me. “Why don’t you come too?”

  “Oh.” I exhaled. “My meeting got moved from Monday to tomorrow, or today, since it’s already Sunday, so I’ll probably be on a plane home later today instead of Tuesday morning like I originally planned.”

  “But you could stay until Tuesday,” Rand said, bumping my knee under the table. “You could if you wanted.”

  My gaze hit his.

  “Stef… you could.”

  “I could.” I smiled at him.

  “Then it’s settled.” He took a breath. “Stef and me’ll meet the beau.”

  Her smile was luminous as she looked at me. “Thank you, darling.”

  But I hadn’t done anything.

  A half hour later, I was doing the dishes, still not tired, just content.

  “This is so domestic of you,” Rand said as he walked up behind me, his lips finding a sensitive spot behind my ear that seemed to be suddenly and without warning connected to my cock.

  “Oh God, what’re you doing?”

  He moved his mouth to the back of my neck, one arm sliding across my abdomen, his other hand sliding down over my ass.

  “Watch yourself,” I cautioned him. “They’re might see.”

  His hand slid over my hip on a path toward my groin as he licked a line up the side of my neck.

  “Stop.” I tried to bump him off me, but he tightened his grip as I felt his teeth on my shoulder.

  His deep sigh made me smile. The man liked having me wriggling around in his arms. “You’re gonna get us in trouble,” I teased him.

  “God, you smell good,” he said, his face in my hair, inhaling deeply.

  “Stop,” I said, trying to see from where I was if Rand’s mom and uncle could see him groping me. From how the room was laid out and where I was standing next to the sink, I wasn’t sure.

  “Your skin is so hot,” he said absently, cupping me through my jeans.

  “Christ.” I jerked forward into the cabinet, banging the door.

  “Ticklish?”

  “Stop.”

  “Rand,” May called over to him.

  I felt his warm breath on the back of my neck, knew he had turned to look at his mother.

  “Who’s Jenny marrying?”

  “Some lawyer,” he responded, his hands moving on me, sliding up under my T-shirt, over my skin. “Can you hurry up with this?”

  I nodded and took a breath, letting my head fall back on his shoulder, closing my eyes to keep my body in check. “Maybe if you left me alone, it would go faster.”

  He chuckled before burying his face in my shoulder. “I don’t think I can… you feel too good,” he mumbled, gently biting his way down my shoulder.

  My body went up in flames.

  “What time we gotta be at your meetin’ in the morning?”

  “Are you gonna go with me?”

  “I plan to spend every second with you from now ’til you gotta go… or don’t gotta go.”

  “What does that mean?”

  His arms wrapped me up tightly, crushing me. “You want me to say—I’ll say… I want you to stay here with me, Stef. I want you to go home and pack up all your shit and move into my house and live with me. That’s what I want.”

  I couldn’t breathe. He stepped back so I could turn around and look at him.

  “That’s what I want, since you’re askin’,” he said, his hands on my face, lifting it so that as he stepped back into me, he tilted my chin up. “Stefan Joss, I want you.”

  Staring up into his gorgeous eyes, I was glad that he had said my name and reminded me what it was. My mind had gone completely blank.

  “Speak.”

  “Rand, honey, I’m goin’ on to bed, and Tyler’s walkin’ back to his place! Night, Stef!”

  They were both in the living room, and I hadn’t even realized they had left.

  “Hey.”

  The brilliant turquoise of his eyes, the laugh lines at the corners—just looking at the man made me happy, and apparently looking at me did the same for him.

  “I will settle, if I have to, for you sayin’ that you’ll be back in a week after you fly away. I have a ranch to run, or I’d get on a plane and go to you, but I got things I can only do in one place. But it seems to me that you got yourself more options than you figured.”

  He meant Mr. Cantwell.

  “But you think on it,” he said, smiling at me. “Right now I need you to wash off your hands, leave them dishes, and go on upstairs and get in my bed.”

  “But Rand, your mom—”

  “Go on.”

  I studied him.

  “What are you tryin’ to see?”

  “How can you just change your whole life in a couple of days?”

  “’Cause I’ve had a whole lot of time to think on it.”

  I nodded before turning back to the sink. “I gotta finish cleaning up, and you’ve got stuff to check on before bed, so I’ll meet you upstairs.”

  After several minutes, I realized he was still standing there.

  “What?”

  He just shook his head and went out the back door.

  It was peaceful being alone in the huge kitchen, wiping down the counters, putting pots and pans from earlier in the day away, and watering the herb garden growing in the windowsill. Everything was in its place, and all the lights except the one over the stove were off when I was finally pleased with how it looked.

  Walking out of the kitchen and through the living room to the screen door, I stood silently looking out at the darkness, realizing that the sky was a deep cobalt blue, but with the full moon, I could still see everything, hear the sounds of the cattle, see the lights of the stockyards in the distance, and smell wet earth and wildflowers. It was peaceful, relaxing. There really was something to be said for life on a ranch.

  When I heard Rand whistling, I knew he had the dogs with him. Since I’d seen Charlotte do it many times, I went to the chest that doubled as a coffee table in the living room and got out the blankets. In the winter, the dogs slept in front of the fireplace. In the summer, they slept in the same spot, just without the benefit of flickering flames. I heard them whimpering at the screen door, heard Rand telling them to hold on, and walked over and let them in. I was of great interest, and once I had greeted all four of them, patted them, and given them all love, I led them to the blankets. Trained well, they were all down, tails thumping, as Rand came in the house.

  “Oh.” He was surprised, smiling at me. “You got ’em settled.”

  “I filled up their water bowls in the kitchen,” I told him before heading for the stairs. “I know you still gotta lock the house up, so I’ll see you upstairs.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he called after me.

  “Yes, dear.”

  “Hey.”

  I looked over at him before I started up. The smile on his face was surprising. “What?”

  “That just sounded real nice, is all. I think a man could get used to having you around to take care of him and his home.”

  “Me?”

  His smile made his eyes spa
rkle in the low light. “Yes, you.”

  But I never wanted to take care of anyone. Simple things, small things that other people did, took for granted, I never even thought of. Men I had dated complained because I would make myself something to eat and not even offer. I was cold and uncaring because I didn’t run errands or cook or clean. I was the opposite of domestic; I normally ate standing up unless I was out to dinner, and I never lifted a finger in the home of anyone that I dated. Not ever, for any man, but three days of Rand Holloway’s attention and I was going soft. Shit.

  “Stef.”

  I looked back over at him.

  “Go on up.”

  In the upstairs bathroom, I washed my face, needing to clear my head, and heard Rand in his bedroom. Moving to the doorway, I looked for him in the darkness. The moonlight streaming in the window made him easy to see. Turned away from me, he was holding his left wrist in his right hand over his head, and without realizing it, he made me catch my breath. The man was a work of art, a study in power and strength. The rippling muscles in his shoulders and back, the smooth skin, the jeans riding low on his narrow hips… I was ready to fall down and worship him if he asked it of me.

  “Rand.”

  He dropped his arms, turning to look at me.

  “You’re really beautiful, you know.”

  The deep grunt made me smile. “Ain’t but one of us beautiful.” He gestured me close. “Now c’mere and lock the door behind you.”

  When I was almost to the huge king-sized bed, he dived onto it.

  “Rand, what’re—”

  But my voice was cut off as he grabbed my wrist and yanked me down on top of him. I scrambled out of his grip and had him flat on his back a second later. The way he looked up at me, his eyes heavy-lidded, full of need, was very arousing. I leaned over and nibbled up the side of his neck, and the answering groan made it sound like he was going to die. When I moved to his mouth, he let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around my neck, holding me close. I kissed him long and languidly, taking my time because he seemed to need the closeness just as much as I did. When I felt his hands finally start to stray, clutching at my back, my ass, urging me to move, I did. I rose up off of him, and he was up instantly, yanking at his jeans, frantic to get everything off as quickly as possible. I had to smile because it was pretty heady stuff to know that I was the reason for his speed. He wanted me that badly. I laughed when he pounced on me, dumping me over onto my back before he stretched for something in the drawer in the nightstand.

  “What’re you—”

  I got a piece of paper from a clinic in Lubbock that said he was free and clear of any sexually transmitted diseases and a brand new bottle of lube.

  “Aww.” I smiled up at the man who was grinning like an idiot, hovering over me. “Is this for me?”

  The answer was a deep animal growl before he dropped down over me, pressing his body all along the length of mine.

  “Rand,” I breathed into the side of his neck, my arms falling open on the bed.

  “Say what you want,” he demanded.

  “Oh God, Rand, please.”

  His hands moved quickly over me. The lube was snatched away, and I heard the crinkling of cellophane as the bottle was opened. He lifted my legs roughly over his shoulders and bent me in half.

  His breath caught. “Please, what?”

  “Please, baby,” I almost whined, but I didn’t care how I sounded.

  “Beg me,” he said slowly as one slippery finger slid between my cheeks.

  “Please, Rand… I’ll do anything.”

  “Anything,” he grunted before he leaned forward to kiss me.

  I was surprised that he didn’t just impale me as he so obviously wanted to but kissed me first, apparently needing the closeness just as much. I opened my mouth for him, and his tongue drove inside so hard that his teeth bumped my lips painfully. The copper taste of blood had no effect on the bruising, grinding, devouring kiss. He didn’t stop until I moaned, like he was waiting for the sound. He was rough with me then, his fingers digging into my skin as he yanked me forward, thrusting to the hilt with one hard stroke. It felt so good, and I clutched at him, wanting him deeper, wanting it harder and faster. He complied with my demands even though I couldn’t speak more than the litany of his name.

  Chapter 9

  YOU HAVEN’T lived until you’ve stood clinging to a fence watching as a cowboy, your cowboy, rides by you in a blur of speed. Lasso spinning, mount at full gallop beneath him, the man was breathtaking. Seeing the raw power of the horse, the strength of the man, and knowing that if either of them faltered that they were both dead—it was a rush, and I was absolutely riveted. When he came back by me, leading the horse he had ridden down, he touched the hat pulled low over his eyes as he rode by. It was hot, even more so because the man in question had had me plastered to the wall of his shower just an hour before.

  Going back inside, giving up on stalking the man I had barely let get out of bed that morning, I helped May with breakfast before I went down to the barn to check on Phil. He was happy to see me. So was his mother, and it was there, in the stall, that Rand found me.

  “What’re you doing?”

  I was confused. “Brushing the cows.”

  “Stef, you don’t brush cows,” he told me. “We’re fixin’ to eat them, don’t forget.”

  My expression tickled him.

  “Oh, for crissakes, c’mon an’ eat, we gotta go visit your friend.”

  “You know,” I said, as I hung the brush back up and came out of the stall, “if you’re too busy you don’t have to go with me.”

  He stopped me so he could pull pieces of straw out of my hair. “How did you get all this in… Jesus, Stef, you’re like a little kid.”

  The look on his face, like I was just endearing and mesmerizing all at once, it was too much for me to resist. I stepped into him, my hand around the back of his neck as I eased in close and lifted up for the kiss. I took my time and made sure that he felt how much I wanted him. When I pulled back, he swayed just a little before his eyes fluttered open. The look I got was hard to read.

  “Did I—”

  “Jenny said that sometimes, in bed… I’m no better than an animal.”

  All at once, I understood what Jenny Stover had done to Rand. She had made him feel like his ravenous sex drive was a bad thing. At that moment, I could have killed her. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “I mean, she never said I hurt her or nothin’, but after a while I was afraid to, ya know? I quit sleepin’ with her.”

  “Huh.”

  He reached out and curled a piece of hair around my ear, the backs of his fingers trailing down the side of my neck. “I ain’t never hurt you, have I, Stef?”

  “No,” I promised, reaching for him, sliding my arms up under his, hugging him tightly, pressing into him, showing him that I was telling the truth.

  “Stef, I—”

  “You have never hurt me,” I promised him, “and for the record: you can manhandle me whenever you want.”

  He made a noise back in his throat.

  “And I like it rough, Rand… you can fuck me any way you want.”

  “Jesus.” His breath caught, even though the eyes on mine were suddenly wounded. She had certainly done a number on his psyche.

  “You wanna do me here? Now?”

  He bent and kissed me hard, his hand wrapped around my throat, holding me but not tightly, with just enough pressure so I couldn’t move. The mere hint of restraint was very arousing. My guess was that Jenny Stover liked her men gentle, sweet, and romantic. There was nothing wrong with that, but Rand Holloway was, as a rule, stoic, sarcastic, blunt, and unaware of his own strength.

  Leaning back, breaking the kiss, I saw that Rand’s eyes had changed from pained to heavy-lidded and filled with heat. The words that tumbled out of him, how his ex-wife had said that she didn’t like being attacked and mauled, how she wanted him to make love like he had before they were
married… restrained, careful, and fast. The foreplay was fine; the act was not something she enjoyed.

  No good could come of bashing Jenny. I asked Rand if he had investigated or just given up.

  He squinted down at me. “Pardon?”

  “Did you ever think maybe that somebody might’ve done a number on Jenny to make her like the kissing and fondling part of sex but not the act? Did you even bother checking?”

  “No, I… I just left her alone.”

  I shrugged. “If you care about somebody… you check.”

  His hand went to my cheek. “I know.”

  The comment told me the most important thing I needed to know about his relationship with his ex-wife. She was over, and I was the one up to bat. I was good with it. When he yanked me out of the stable with him, I realized that I was not getting screwed in the hay. He reminded me, as we walked together back up to his house, that it was not like it was in the movies. Straw was apparently really itchy.

  I kept scooting over to his side of the truck as we drove over to see Mrs. Freeman, and I finally got a very frustrated growl of warning.

  “You’re gonna be sorry,” he growled at me. “I am fixin’ to put you over the hood of my truck if you don’t quit.”

  Never in my life had I had a lover like Rand Holloway. The men in my bed had been hot, their perfectly chiseled gym bodies toned and cut and hard, but none of them could compete with the pure masculinity of the cowboy who sat beside me.

  Rand’s thighs were like granite from riding a horse, his hands callused, and the veins in his arms prominent from working all his life. His father had been a big man, so he was too; he didn’t lift weights or swim or do anything but make his living as a cowboy, and that had created a body to die for. Now that I had permission, I could barely keep my hands off the rippling muscles, the long legs, and the dimple in his chin. I was acting like I was in heat, but it didn’t seem to be bothering Rand. His deep chuckle made me whimper with fresh need.

  “What’re you gonna do Tuesday when you gotta fly away from me?” he asked, his arm sliding down my shoulder, tucking me up against his side.

  I licked behind his ear, breathing out, making him shiver before kissing a wet trail down the side of his neck. The taste of the man’s skin was intoxicating.