Her Cowboy's Way
Page 13
She wanted the same thing, but worried a little, too. Still, she followed him into the lounge and waited in anticipation as he closed and locked the door behind them.
“Unless you want the dress all wrinkled, you’d best take it off.”
She swallowed hard at the huskiness in his tone, at the intensity in his gaze. She didn’t move.
He undid his belt and unzipped his pants to free his long, hard shaft. “I’ve been watching you prance around all night long in that sexy gown. I can’t take it any longer.”
Her mouth watered and moisture pooled between her legs. She was speechless, simply ached and needed him to do whatever he had in mind.
He stroked his shaft. “I’ve got to drive this inside you. Right damn now.”
Hands shaking, she removed her gown as fast as she could. She let it drop to the floor, unconcerned with whether it wrinkled or not. “I feel so naughty standing here almost undressed. Here where anyone could come in and catch us.” She’d kept her bra and thong on, then decided to slide off the thong as well.
“I locked the door. And the music is so loud that nobody will hear us.”
He tugged her over to one of the leather sofas, pulled her behind it. “Bend over, sweetheart. Show me your sweet spot I’m ready to explore.”
She didn’t hesitate, but leaned down to rest her arms on the back of the sofa. Filled with eager anticipation, she thrust her bottom out. She was so excited she couldn’t stand still. “I’m ready, cowboy.”
“Do you want fancy words?” He moved behind her.
“Words are over-rated. I want action.”
He stroked a hand between her legs, nudged them apart further, and she moaned, “Don’t tease me.”
“I seem to remember you doing a lot of teasing, tempting me before we left home.” He found her clit and lightly pinched it.
“Colby please!” She didn’t think she could wait a second longer for him to fill her with his nice, long, thick shaft.
He chose that moment to be stubborn. Instead of filling her like she wanted, he slid a finger inside her, then two. He worked them there for a few seconds before he pulled them back out. “You’re wet and ready.”
She craned her head back to let him see her frustration at what wasn’t news to her. “I’ve been ready for you since I mentioned staying home, brought up the idea of chocolate.”
“And I do love chocolate,” he answered on a grin. “I hope you bought a big bottle of it. For later.” He put the cockhead to her swollen lips and plowed deep. “Hold still, sweetheart. This is going to be wild and fast.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, fought to take breaths. So good! God, it was sooooo good!
His large hands moved up to cup her breasts. His thumbs found her nipples beneath the lace bra and flicked them as he pounded his shaft into her with such wonderful power. She was shoved repeatedly into the sofa back and it was pure bliss.
He rammed over and over, grunted, and pinched her nipples. “Teased me…all night…in this hot little dress.”
“Worth the price?” she asked, struggling for air.
He moved his hands to her hips, held her in place. “Every damn penny!”
She was beyond focusing on anything but the feel of him. So very, very good. She panted, pushed desperately back at him. Squeezed her inner muscles tighter. So close…. “Ahhhhh,” she gasped, holding her breath, frantic.
“Cum for me,” he growled, pumping harder.
With one mighty thrust he forced her to the place where she stilled and cried out. “Oh Colby! Oh, oh, ohhhh!”
He held her tightly and pounded three more times before he stiffened. His warm cream erupted inside her as he roared out his release. He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving from the exertion. “Thanks, sweetheart. I needed that.”
He eased out of her with care and then stood. Brandi straightened and he handed her a handkerchief he’d dug out of his pocket. Her cowboy was always prepared.
She wiped away the juices, tugged on her thong. She faced him with a smile. “This was the best Cattleman’s Ball ever.”
Righting his clothes, he flashed her his crooked grin. “Because of the plaque?”
“Well, that was nice, too.” She reached for her dress to wiggle into it. “Have to admit, I’m thinking this little private time was the best part.”
Someone jiggled the doorknob and then knocked on the door. “Hey! You two all right?” her brother asked. “Dad and I were getting a little worried. He saw you guys leave the dance floor a while ago.”
Colby’s mouth pinched in annoyance.
Brandi shrugged and fought back a giggle at his sour expression. After all, this delicate situation was his fault. Not that she hadn’t played a big part in it, and enjoyed it a lot. “We’re fine. Colby just wanted to…to congratulate me in private. I’m sure you understand.”
“Damn, Sis.” He heaved a sigh then added, “I hope you’re done celebrating. People are looking for you two.” They heard him walk away, chortling.
Colby zipped his slacks. “He understood what we were doing in here just fine.”
“I’m sure he did. I have a feeling Patty is going to get lucky tonight, too.”
“Not something I want to think about.” He pulled her close, cupped her bottom. “Am I still going to get lucky later as well? Still getting to drip some of the chocolate syrup all over my delicious wife?”
She reached down to palm his semi-hard erection. “As long as I get to return the favor, cowboy.” She grinned in mischief at him. “I’ve got some real interesting ideas. A tad naughty. You game?”
He drew in a breath so deep she felt it and his shaft grew even more. “Think we could sneak away? I know a back way out of here.”
“What about my plaque?” She didn’t really care about it; certain someone would get it to her later.
One of his eyebrows rose. “Are you serious?”
Giggling, she shook her head and shoved him toward the door. “I get dibs on the chocolate first.”
Chapter Nine
Gobble, Gobble…Grumble, Grumble
Brandi draped the handles of ten plastic grocery bags over her arms and then realized she couldn’t close the trunk of her Mustang. She glared at the trunk lid as if it would lower on its own. It didn’t, of course. Her arms felt like they were being torn from her shoulders. She didn’t need this additional aggravation. Not when she was in a hurry, when she was expecting her in-laws for a big holiday meal the next day.
“Need some help?” Colby yelled from the middle of the ranch yard.
She considered yelling out “Duh!” but settled for, “As in immediately? Yes!” One of the bags started to slip off her arm. She jerked her arm upward to regain control of the problem bag and groaned. Pain shot from wrist to elbow to shoulder.
He raced to her side before she could step away from the car. He closed the trunk and grabbed half the bags from each of her arms. “You could make more than one trip.”
“I don’t have time for that.” She edged around him and hurried to the door connecting the garage to the kitchen. Her arms hurt. Her feet hurt. And time was whizzing by. “I’m running way behind schedule.”
He managed to open the door and let her go inside first. As they both set their burdens on the counter, he looked at her in confusion. “What schedule?”
She rolled her eyes at the slow-witted husband she loved so much. “Thanksgiving. Tomorrow. Gazillion things to do. I made an intricate schedule and I’ve already screwed it up.”
“It’s just a family meal.” He started pulling items out of the bags and setting them down. “No big deal.”
“Just a family meal?” She gaped at him. “It’s the first meal I’m making for your relatives since we got married. It is a big deal. Thanksgiving dinner.” She couldn’t believe he didn’t understand the importance from her point of view.
He set several cans of yams down, his brow furrowed in confusion. “They won’t be expecting anything fancy.”
Colby gave her a look of disapproval at being hit with the rolls. He leaned a hip against the counter. “ Well…turkey, of course, with stuffing. Baked yams topped with marshmallows. Only way I like those things.”
He rubbed his beard-stubbled chin. “Mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, corn, too. Plus there was cranberry sauce and a couple salads.”
He nodded at the package of rolls beside his elbow. “Rolls, sometimes cornbread as well.” He smiled, a look of pure bliss sparkling in his warm brown eyes. “Pecan pie, pumpkin pie, and apple cobbler.”
Her shoulders slumped. She had most of that on the menu, didn’t she? When she’d pinned him about this a month ago, she’d written it down. She wanted this meal to be perfect, but at the moment she would be satisfied with pretty good.
His expression remained puzzled, clearly still not understanding the problem. Men! Got to love them. Sometimes, though, you wanted to shake them.
She shrugged out of her sweatshirt, laid it over the far end of the counter, and planted her hands on her hips. “Maybe you don’t consider any of that fancy, but that’s a hell of a lot of stuff to prepare.” Especially for one meal that lasted maybe an hour, more like a half hour.
“We don’t need all of what I mentioned.” Yet she heard the wistfulness in his tone. He wanted all of that.
“I am not disappointing your family by serving them a half-ass Thanksgiving dinner.”
She already felt unworthy of having married him. She’d seen hints of that in her mother-in-law’s eyes. She was ten years younger than Colby, a whole lot less mature, even she couldn’t deny that. But she was trying to become the wife he deserved, the one she wanted to be. She had a long way to go to come anywhere close to competing with her sister-in-law Sally Ann, his youngest brother Corrie’s sainted wife.
“You won’t disappoint anyone,” Colby said, sounding patronizing.
Bopping him on the head with a can of yams seemed like a good idea. Instead, she went back to emptying the bags, tossing out a head of lettuce, stalks of celery, a bag of carrots. Had she forgotten the salad dressings? A second of panic shot through her until she breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out four different bottles of dressings from one of the bags.
When she glanced up, her husband was still standing there, looking perplexed by her obsession with emptying the bags. She did not need a distraction. “Go away. Go back to your chores and leave me be. I don’t have time for chit-chat.”
Stubborn man that he was, he ignored her order to leave. He turned, snagged the jug of milk, carton of eggs, tub of butter, and carried them to the refrigerator. “You’re getting a bit testy, sweetheart. We talked about this just the other day. All I want is for this to be a nice holiday get-together with my family. I don’t want you getting irrational because of it. I worry about you.”
“I’m not irrational. I’ll accept testy, but I’ve had a bad couple of days.” She had worked out a detailed schedule of when to prepare the various menu items. Like the pies, which she’d meant to make yesterday. “Everything would be just fine, if I hadn’t had that client with an accounting emergency yesterday.” Now she was behind schedule and doubting if she could get back on track.
“I can help.” He walked over to grab the frozen corn and green beans from where she’d set them on the counter. “Just tell me what I can do.”
Stressed or not, when he gave her his crooked grin and stood there looking so damn hot, she wanted to forget everything but him. She wanted to take her handsome cowboy straight to the floor. She wanted…. “I do not have time for that,” she grouched.
His thick eyebrows pinched together. “What are you talking about? I only offered to help.” He studied her and then grinned in male smugness. “Oh, that.” His gaze darkened, distracted from what they’d been discussing. “Maybe if we did some of that first—”
“Get your mind off your dick’s needs. It’s not happening. Not, not, not.” She didn’t need this added frustration right now. “All I want from you right now is to stay the hell out of my way. Go deal with ranch things. Let me handle the dinner preparations. Alone.”
His lips pinched in annoyance. “I don’t like this, Brandi Lynn. Remember what happened when we had the Fourth of July barbecue with our friends?”
She stiffened her shoulders. He would have to bring up the unfortunate incident. “I remember.”
The simple answer wasn’t enough. He held her gaze. “What happened that day?”
With a sigh, she admitted, “I got a little carried away with food preparations.” She raised her chin. “But it was our first big party with the neighbors.”
“You went crazy. You refused to let any of the others bring food, even though they all offered.” He looked straight at her. “What else happened that day?”
Her buttocks clenched in memory. “I got spanked,” she said in a frustrated whisper.
“You got spanked and.…”
“Okay! I got paddled, too. Happy now?” She well remembered the incident, not a bit pleasant. Okay, he was right. She’d gotten out of control. She should have accepted help with the food. She wasn’t Superwoman. It wasn’t fun smiling and getting to know everyone better and spending the evening standing.
His expression hardened. “This is fair warning, Brandi Lynn. If you get crankier, there’ll be a spanking in your near future. Understand?”
“Yes.” She was done with this conversation. Just go away.
His big shoulders slumped. “I don’t like talking about the possibility. But I will do it, if it’s necessary. So, please, sweetheart, calm down. We can feed them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for all I care.”
Brandi sniffed back a tear of stress. “But I care. This is important, to me.” She needed a hug. Just one simple hug and she could pull it together again.
As if he’d read her thoughts, Colby walked across the room and pulled her into his arms. She liked the warmth of his big body surrounding her. The familiar scent of outdoors, leather, and pure man smelled so good. She melted into him. It would be so nice to just let him take her upstairs, let him spend a few hours—or all day—taking her mind off of everything. He could do that so very well. She sighed.
He held her close, his heart thudding against her chest. When he rubbed against her and her body came alive in response, she knew it was time to stop this. She didn’t have time for playing around.
She eased away and gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“Me, too.” He touched the side of her face with a calloused hand. “Are you going to calm down now?”
She bobbed her head. “I’ll try.”
He started to say something, probably another warning, but instead he accepted her word and left the house.
***
The sun had already set and things around the ranch had settled down for the day. Colby kicked off his boots in the back porch room and decided to veg out in the great room watching TV for a while. When he passed through the kitchen, Brandi was up to her elbows cooking for tomorrow. She stirred a pot of boiling cranberries and mumbled something about men at holiday time. Something about how little they did to help. Getting up as late as they pleased. Pigging out on food they didn’t have to make. Parking themselves in front of the afternoon football game. It pissed him off to hear her complaints, but they were pretty much true. He figured it was wise to give her some space for a while longer.
Except watching TV bored him. Besides, he felt guilty about her sweating away in the kitchen, working far harder than she needed to for tomorrow. He understood her wanting to impress his family. He’d experienced much the same thing in the past, wanting to impress her dad. Thank God, he was past that.
S
till, he didn’t think his family would care what was served tomorrow. Well, sure, there were certain foods kind of expected at Thanksgiving. But they could do without them.
He was thirsty. Did he dare step foot into the kitchen again? He should check on her, try again to offer his help. She hadn’t wanted it earlier, preferring to be left alone. Maybe she’d changed her mind.
He climbed off the sofa and padded in sock-covered feet toward the kitchen, cautious. As he stepped into the doorway, he watched hot juice splatter up out of the pot, hitting her forearm.
She yelped, “Damn, damn, damn!”
Colby was at her side in an instant. He turned the heat down and reached for her arm. Little red spots caught his attention. “We’d better run some cold water on that.”
“It’ll be fine.” She jerked her arm back. “The cranberries are almost finished. The pecan pie needs to come out of the oven. I don’t have time—”
He frowned and pulled her arm toward him again. She grumbled in irritation, but he looked it over with care. “The spots don’t look all that bad. We can put on some salve after we deal with your immediate issues.”
He picked up the oven mitts from next to the stove and nudged her to the side. “I’ll get the pie out. You take care of the cranberries.”
She stirred the cranberries a couple more times while he put the pie on a nearby hot pad. “There’s still so much that needs to be done. Your parents, your brothers and sister-in-law are coming tomorrow. I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Sweetheart, I’m worried about you. None of this matters.” He hated seeing the stress marring her pretty face, the exhaustion in her eyes. He should have just taken them all out to eat tomorrow, somewhere. He didn’t care where. Even a fast-food place in Topeka would be okay with him.
“It does! And I wish you would stop saying it doesn’t.” She pulled in a breath, blew it out deeply. She attempted a weak smile. “I can handle this. I just get a little panicked now and then.”