A Sweet Life-kindle

by Andre, Bella

  Jenny’s hands balled into fists as she watched people cross the street, couples out walking arm in arm, and families with their strollers and baby carriages, all coming out to get a first glimpse of the decorations the city had put up for the big rodeo festivities this weekend.

  There would be a parade Friday and a street dance, a pancake breakfast, and then the big steak dinner Saturday night before the rodeo finals on Sunday.

  A half-dozen bands would be playing through the weekend, and the town was already filling up as cowboys and cowgirls arrived with their horse trailers, and settled in to be relaxed and rested for the competition this weekend.

  The rodeo was a big deal in Marietta, and this year, the seventy-fifth, was the biggest deal yet, and folks were thrilled Colton Thorpe was the honorary chair.

  Everyone loved Colton.

  Everyone but her.

  “You look mad as hell, darlin’,” a deep voice drawled behind her.

  Jenny stiffened at the sound of Colton’s voice. “I am, so go away.”

  “You ought to come back inside. Your sisters want to be with you.”

  She shot him a scornful glance over her shoulder. “Why don’t you go back inside, because your mother would like to be with you.”

  “Touché.”

  She shook her head, grinding her jaw tight. “I hate you.”

  His footsteps sounded behind her. He was walking towards her. “I deserve that.”

  “Yes, you do.” She bundled her arms across her chest, trying to keep her crazy emotions in. She hated him. She did. But she also wanted still. Badly. “Now get lost before I punch you. Which you also deserve.”

  He laughed softly, amused. “Have you ever thrown a punch, princess?”

  “No.” He was standing right behind her now, so close she could feel his warmth and his intense male energy that prickled her skin and made her weak in the knees. “But it can’t be that difficult,” she said, glaring at him over her shoulder. “You make a fist and bam. In your face.”

  Colton’s lips twitched, and creases fanned from his blue eyes as he choked back muffled laughter which just made her madder.

  “I’m serious,” she said.

  “I know you are.” But the corners of his mouth curved and his eyes gleamed and he was looking at her as if he wanted to do wicked things to her… deliciously wicked things…which of course were all the things she wanted him to do.

  “I hate you,” she added.

  “You don’t.”

  “I do.”

  He reached out to her, pulled her against him, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, warming her body with his. “No, you don’t,” he said, his deep voice dropping even lower to a husky growl. “You’re just mad ‘cause I hurt you. And I’m sorry for hurting you. It’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

  “That’s not true,” she answered, her chest tightening, emotion making it hard to speak. “You meant to hurt me. You said the most awful words anyone could.” Her breath hitched and her eyes burned and she bit down hard into her lower lip, determined not to cry. “I’m not a gold digger, Colton. I’ve never been a gold digger, and the fact that you’d say such a thing to me—”

  He silenced the painful stream of words by covering her mouth with his. He molded her body to his, and persuasively kissed her, coaxing a reluctant response from her.

  She’d been determined not to cave. She’d even put her hands up on his chest to push him away but his kiss was so good. He felt too good, and she leaned in to the kiss instead of pulling away.

  By the time the kiss ended, it seemed as if half of Marietta had gathered to watch. Mandy and Charity were standing in the doorway watching, jaws dropped. Mrs. Thorpe was at the window. Even the waitresses had all paused to have a look.

  “That was awfully public, Colton Thorpe,” Jenny said, blushing and breaking free.

  “People are going to talk,” he agreed.

  “Was that what you wanted?”

  “No. You’re what I want. But Tricia says you’re fragile right now and I can’t put pressure on you—”

  “Screw Tricia.” Jenny’s shoulders squared and her chin lifted. “Yes, she’s my friend, and your sister, but she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  “You were supposed to get married Saturday.”

  “And it didn’t happen. But that’s because it wasn’t supposed to happen.” Her chin lifted higher, her eyes locking with his. “Maybe you were supposed to happen—” she held up a finger to keep him from interrupting, “—and I don’t mean as in marriage and mate and happily ever after, but in… this.” She gestured from him to her. “This… whatever it is… sex, lust, need. I don’t understand it but I don’t have to understand it. I don’t want to control it, either. I just want to feel it. To feel something. So, that’s what I think.” She swallowed hard, her courage receding. “Now you can say whatever it is you want to say.”

  He looked at her a long moment then smiled, a slow sexy smile that promised serious heat. “I think it sounds good. I think it sounds great.”

  He leaned towards her, kissed her on the lips. “So I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  The corners of his mouth curled upward as he whispered mock-suggestively, “We’ll go somewhere dark and quiet and have a couple drinks and see if I can’t possibly satisfy your – uh – needs.”

  He picked her up at nine and drove her to Livingston, to a little honky-tonk bar where a DJ was playing country songs, but no one in the bar cared that there wasn’t a live band. Everybody was on the dance floor, line dancing.

  They drank a beer and then Colton, tugged her out with him onto the dance floor.

  “I don’t know how,” she protested as they took their places in the back row.

  “You can’t grow up in Marietta without knowing how to line dance.”

  “It’s been ten years—”

  “Just follow along. It’ll come back to you.” His blue eyes smiled down at her. “Just like riding a horse.”

  “I don’t know how to ride a horse, either.”

  “I guess that’s the next thing we need to do.” And then the music started again and everyone was moving, right, left, forward, turning.

  Jenny tripped over her feet as she struggled to remember the steps. She was mortified but Colton didn’t seem to care, and he danced beautifully, all muscle in motion, graceful as anything, and it crossed Jenny’s mind that he’d look beautiful on a horse, or a bucking bull.

  He moved as if he’d been created for motion—taut, honed, strong.

  They turned, she turned, and this time she didn’t trip. She was beginning to get the steps. They were coming back.

  She relaxed as they all stepped forward, then back, her hips looser, her steps firmer and more confident.

  The music became rhythmic, hypnotic and it began to feel good, the body in motion, the warmth of moving, the energy of everyone dancing with her, around her.

  She turned and Colton’s gaze met hers, his gaze steady and warm, and for the first time she could remember, she actually felt beautiful.

  Colton made her feel beautiful. Desirable.

  They danced another couple of songs, before returning to their table. He was sitting next to her, his chair close to hers, and she could smell his fragrance and feel his warmth and it was hard to focus on anything but his long muscular legs, and the shape of his honed thighs, and how his big silver buckle rested just above the top of his zipper which made her stare at his crotch.

  The fabric seemed to hug him all too well in that area, too.

  She shouldn’t look, but she couldn’t help looking. She couldn’t help thinking about the things she never thought about before, couldn’t help being aware of how different she felt with Colton, how hungry she felt for more, and how she craved pleasure.

  But it wasn’t just physical pleasure she wanted.

  She wanted Colton.

  She loved Colton.

  She always had.

  Her eyes stung an
d her chest ached with the realization that Colton had always been the only man for her.

  She’d agreed to marry Charles because she’d stopped believing in happy endings. She’d agreed to marry Charles because she’d stopped dreaming.

  “What are you thinking about, darlin’?” Colton asked, carefully plucking the finest strand of hair tangling on her eyelashes and smoothing it away from her face.

  She inhaled sharply at the brush of his thumb and finger against her face near her eye, and the way his knuckles skimmed her cheekbones, his skin warm, and instantly making her heart burn, and her body ache.

  She loved him and it would hurt so bad when the weekend ended and they both left—he for the next rodeo and she back to Chicago—but it would hurt far worse not to have this moment with him now.

  Because this moment was everything.

  This was the moment she’d waited for her entire life.

  “Come with me,” Colton said abruptly, reaching for her hand and drawing her to her feet.

  She followed him outside. She didn’t ask why they were going out, or where they were going. Quite frankly at that moment she didn’t care. As long as they were together she was good.

  In the parking lot, Colton opened the door to his truck, and sat down on the edge of the bench seat, with his feet still planted on the asphalt parking lot and he pulled her close, settling a hand on her hip. “I owe you a proper apology, Jenny. I deliberately pushed you away because I thought it was the best thing, not just for me, but for you, too. But it was wrong, and hurtful, and I am so sorry I hurt you. You didn’t deserve it. The truth is, you deserve so much better than me and I’ve had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you, princess, had this crush on me… and that you might actually still care for me.”

  “Why?” she asked, looking up into his eyes.

  He shook his head, his hands on her hips, holding her close against him. “Because I’m a tough SOB. I’m not gentle and refined. Not a sophisticated city guy—”

  “I never wanted that. Never, ever. I only ever wanted… tough SOB you.”

  He looked away, brow furrowing, eyes narrowing. He struggled for a moment to find the right words to speak. “But why?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve just always had a thing for you. Bad, tough SOB you.” She reached up to clasp his face. She turned his head so she could look him in the eye. “I don’t know why I like you so much. I don’t know why I feel so good around you. But I do. Colton, I’ve gone through life ashamed. Ashamed of me, ashamed of our circumstances, aware that I’m one of those Wright girls that’s all wrong.” Her lips quivered as she struggled to smile. “But when I’m around you, I feel good. I feel… right.” Tears filled her eyes. “So I don’t care where this goes, or how it ends. I just want this, now, with you. I just want to be with you. And when it’s over, I’ll let you go and I won’t say a word and I won’t make you feel bad—”

  “Jesus, Jen.” Colton swore and dipped his head, his mouth covering hers. He kissed her fiercely, deeply, as he pressed a hand to the small of her spine, shaping her to him.

  In her thin dress his touch felt like fire and ice and she couldn’t move, frozen in place.

  The kiss consumed her even as his hands explored her, his fingers sliding up her back, making her arch and shudder.

  Against the hard cradle of his hips she could feel the cold silver buckle of his belt dig into her belly and the thick ridge of his erection on her inner thigh.

  His hand stroked her again, up and down, and each time she arched, cat-like, her breasts pressing to his chest, her nipples tight and tender as she clenched inwardly, wanting more.

  “You feel so good,” he murmured, his mouth close to her ear, his breath making the skin beneath her ear tingle.

  “You make me feel good,” she answered breathlessly, as his hand slid up beneath her hair to cup her nape, fingers working her neck and then higher, into her scalp, and it was so delicious and erotic she nearly mewed with pleasure.

  He lifted her hair up, and placed at kiss at her nape, one of his hands finding her breast, kneading the nipple as he kissed and nibbled from her nape to the side of her neck where she was so very sensitive. She gasped for air as he turned her mindless with pleasure, her body rippling with wave after wave of exquisite sensation.

  He reached up under her short dress, stroked her inner thigh, and then higher to the edge of her lace panties.

  “I want you,” he said hoarsely, “but I can’t take you here.”

  She rocked against his hand, sighing as he felt every sensitive spot of her through the lace. “Don’t stop,” she choked, voice trembling, legs trembling, body quivering from head to toe as Colton slid a finger beneath the lace and stroked her where she was warm and wet.

  Charles never touched her like this. Charles had been very efficient about touch and sex. The less amount of energy he spent, the better.

  Just like wanting her to drink her coffee black to keep her from wasting time on herself, he advocated sex without foreplay. That way he wasn’t tired after and could get right back to work.

  Colton didn’t seem to mind touching. He was crooning compliments in her ear as he caressed her slick inner folds, teasing the delicate nub and then thrusting inside her.

  “You’re amazing,” Colton whispered against his mouth, kissing her deeply as she felt the pressure build, the sensation so strong now they were nearly overwhelming.

  He stroked her faster, thrusting deeper, managing to touch hit every pleasure point. She was going to come. She was going to shatter, here, like this, and she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but him and her and being together.

  Colton drank in her cry of release with his kiss, as he brought her to orgasm. It had been so long since Jenny had climaxed she couldn’t quite believe it’d happened.

  Afterwards, he hauled her into the truck, on his lap, and held her, big arms wrapping around her, her cheek nestled to his chest.

  Her heart was still pounding and her body was still warm and she closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat. Such a strong, steady heartbeat.

  She’d never forget tonight, she thought, breathing him in, never, ever.

  “Jenny?”

  Colton’s deep voice made her lift her head. “Yes?” she whispered, looking up at him, seeing how the moonlight illuminated his profile, highlighting his high, hard chiseled cheekbone and strong, beautiful jaw.

  “I want to be with you,” he said. “I want to make love to you. But this is your night. This is about you. I can take you home. I can take you back in for some more beer and dancing. Or I can take you to the hotel room I’ve reserved here in Livingston and take these damn clothes off and make you mine. But it’s up to you. I want you happy. I want to make you happy. So tell me, darlin’. What would you like to do?”

  She searched his eyes, heart thumping. “I want to go to the hotel with you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He’d checked into the room earlier, so there was no wait or awkwardness at the front desk. They just went through the front door and up two flights of stairs to the room at the end of the hall.

  Inside the room, Colton took charge, peeling Jenny’s dress off and then pulling off her boots, and unhooking her lace bra before carrying her to the bed.

  “You’re still dressed,” she said as he settled next to her.

  He smiled crookedly. “My clothes are not the problem. I can get out of them quick.”

  She smiled back at him until he leaned over the corner of her mouth, and then her mouth, and then parted her lips with his so his tongue could flick the inside of her upper lip and suck on the tip of her tongue and make her melt.

  She was melting. Once again.

  She was aching. All over again.

  He’d just brought her to climax in the parking lot and yet he was stirring her up again, making her blood pound and her heart race. He shifted over her, settling between her thighs, and she could feel the rub of his erection through the soft
denim, could feel his hunger, and it was exciting. This heat between them was exciting. She welcomed it, wanting the fire, wanting to explore and be explored.

  “Take your clothes off,” she pleaded. “I want you, all of you. I’m desperate to feel your skin.”

  She helped him get the Western dress shirt unsnapped and off. She watched wide-eyed as he stepped from his Wranglers and then out of his briefs.

  His erection sprang up, once freed, and she was amazed, as well as impressed.

  Naked, Colton was back on the bed with her, drawing her into his arms, his hands stroking down her bare back to cup her butt.

  She loved the feel of his warm chest against hers, and stroked the thick bronzed muscle of his pecs, and then higher to the honed plane that wrapped his shoulders and collarbone. “You have a seriously hot body,” she whispered, awed.

  He flipped her over onto her back, his head dipping to suckle her breast. Her hips lifted, arching against him as the warm wet tugs on her nipple made everything inside her tighten and ache.

  He reached between them with one hand, found her, where she was soft and wet. He touched her, caressing her, making her hotter, wetter, more desperate.

  It was a relief when he entered her, his big shaft sliding deep, filling her, sending streaks of sharp hot pleasure through every nerve.

  He made love to her as if she were the most beautiful thing in the world, thrusting and stroking and kissing and stirring her senses until there was him and only him, and he didn’t stop until she shattered with pleasure.

  He pulled out just before he came, shuddering and releasing into the sheet to keep from coming on her.

  “I’m on the pill,” she said, kissing the side of his face, and then his mouth.

  He rolled over onto his back, drew her to his side. “I didn’t know,” he said, his deep voice husky. “Should have asked. Should have certainly worn a condom. I bought some. You are hell on some self-control.”

  Jenny sighed, and curled closer, liking how her body fit his, feeling so comfortable with him. “Thank you. That was amazing.”