The Cowboy's Pride

by Charlene Sands

  Trish enjoyed having sex with Clay, so why shouldn’t she indulge a little? They were still legally married and with that came wifely rights. Heaven knew, when she returned to Nashville, she’d be too busy juggling work and single motherhood to have any kind of romance in her life.

  Meggie was asleep. Trish had hours to be alone with Clay.

  “No, I’m not hurt. And yes, I’m not wearing anything under this dress. And yes, I don’t give a damn about work tonight. I want you, Clayton Worth. Bad.”

  She yanked the hat from his head and flung it.

  Clay’s eyes darkened to a gleam. His demeanor changed. The smile faded and his body reacted. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her in. “You don’t have to work so hard at it, honey. I’m all yours.”

  That had been true once, but Trish knew he was speaking only about tonight.

  “I’m damn glad you made the effort, though.”

  Trish reached around his neck and pulled his head down, then lifted on tiptoes to plant a hot kiss on his mouth. Her lips burned with his heat. Her fingers dug into his hair. She sifted through the dark strands. Thick locks slipped through her fingers. Clay’s groan of desire fed her confidence. She pressed herself closer, brushing her body to his. Their tongues found each other and the kiss went deep and long.

  “Make love to me,” Trish whispered between clashing tongues.

  A rumbling emanated from the bottom of Clay’s gut, the sound she knew meant hell yeah.

  She ended the kiss abruptly, climbing off Clay’s body. She took his hand and led him to the big comfortable master bed. The covers were turned down. Filled wineglasses sat on the nightstand and candles flickered next to them. “Right here, Clay. Right now.”

  She shoved Clay down and he went easily, his smile wicked as his body filled the length of the bed. She wouldn’t pretend to think she could push him anywhere he didn’t want to go, but she would have control tonight.

  “If I’m dreamin’,” Clay rasped low as Trish yanked off one boot, then another, “don’t wake me.”

  “You’re not dreaming. This is real.” She spread his legs wide and climbed onto the bed between them. Lowering down to his level, she positioned her body over his, wrapped her arms around his neck and took him in a sweeping passionate kiss. Heat rose up her body in waves. Ripples of desire consumed her. She had Clay at her mercy and she would take advantage. She would make him happy. She didn’t understand why the validation was important to her, but deep inside, she had to know that their marriage hadn’t been a complete failure. There had been love and lust involved, despite the heartache and disappointment.

  Her tongue danced with his, their mouths mating in fiery wet kisses. Little moans escaped her throat, her body electric as Clay returned her passion. Yet, he held back just enough to give her control. She wouldn’t disappoint. She planted tiny kisses all over his mouth, then moved on to his chin. She suckled his strong jaw leaving him moist there. With her lips bowed, she blew at the moisture. Clay took a sharp swallow of air and stilled his entire body. She could see his desire, the restraint that made him wince as if he were in pain. Next, she followed along his neck with tiny nibbles until she reached the base of his throat. She licked him there and he made a triumphant groan.

  She made fast work of unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands slipped under his shirt and she spread it out wide. His shoulders were muscled and strong under her palms. She loved touching him, feeling his strength, the power of his body. She gazed at him through candlelight and sucked in oxygen, relishing his body, memorizing it and savoring every morsel of him.

  She ran her hands along his shoulders, then angled in over the full expanse of his chest. Tracing her fingers across his two nipples, his skin prickled. He groaned and moved on the bed, restless, arching with a buck, wanting to take control, but she shook her head and shoved him down gently. She couldn’t let him have it. Tonight was about pleasing him. Making a point. And having a wildly wicked time. “Sit back and enjoy.”

  His dark eyes blackened even more and a slow grin spread across his face. “Done.”

  Trish smiled and continued touching him, tracing her fingers over his body with infinite precision. His skin was rougher than hers and her caresses did as much damage to her as they did to him. He was, in a word, perfect, as far as sexy hunks were concerned. And tonight, he was all hers.

  Trish slid back on him enough to unfasten his belt buckle. She pulled at the belt and it fell open. She found the zipper to his jeans and looked at him while she slowly guided the zipper down, inch by inch.

  “You’re asking for trouble,” he warned.

  “You catch on quick.” Tonight was all about taking risks and chances. Trish had always guarded herself. She’d always protected her heart. She wouldn’t do that today. She wouldn’t deny them this pleasure. Tonight she was asking for trouble and getting it. She worked him out of his jeans. His boxers came next and then she lowered her head and lifted her lashes to him as she gripped him.

  A wicked gleam entered his eyes.

  She tasted him with her tongue.

  His body pitched.

  “Damn it,” he gritted between his teeth.

  Then she took him into her mouth. A low guttural growl rumbled from his throat as he drove his hands into her hair. He guided her, showing her without words what he liked. She already knew. She pleasured him until he bucked beneath her ministrations and uttered a tortured groan. This time the warning in his voice was very real. He had his limits and so did she. She quaked inside, as her anticipation grew.

  She lifted her head, only to be captured by the hungry glint in his eyes.

  He slid his hands from her hair and unfastened the knotted ties of her halter top. With sure fingers, he finessed the ties, lowering them past her shoulders with achingly slow speed. His fingertips probed her with the gentlest touch and every ounce of her sensitive flesh jumped. When he touched her like that, she split apart. He cupped her breasts with his palms and she stilled, the heat in her belly burning hot. Moisture pooled between her legs and she fought the release that was building in her without her consent.

  She had more to do.

  She cupped her hands over his as he toyed with her breasts, showing him what she liked this time. He knew and the heat intensified until she could barely take it.

  Then he shoved her hands away and brought his mouth up to suckle her with his tongue.

  Oh, yeah. Clay knew what she liked.

  “Let go, sweetheart.” Clay’s urging tempted her to take her pleasure now.

  “No, not yet.” She shook her head and rose up over him onto her knees. Lifting her dress, the material that had bunched at her waist now flowed over both of them.

  Candlelight glittered onto the bed and tall shadows danced on the wall. The scent of red wine permeated the room. She wanted this to last. She wanted to create a memory. She wanted perfection. “There’s more.”

  Clay’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “Show me.”

  “Reach into the drawer and pull out a few packages,” she whispered, nearly forgetting about the condoms she’d bought today.

  “A few?” Clay choked back his question.

  “At least,” she murmured.

  When he figured out she was serious, his expression changed and an approving gleam shone in his eyes.

  Seconds later with the protection in place, she positioned herself over his thick erection, teasing the tip with the folds of her skin. She brushed over him once, twice, and he cursed. But Clay wasn’t a slacker. He fought back and he had weapons in his arsenal that could render Trish helpless. His hand sought her entrance and with his finger, he stroked her sensitized flesh until she nearly lost all control.

  She moved on him and he moved on her. There was a rhythm to their lovemaking, a beauty to the give and take. Clay kept the pressure constant as Trish lowered down on him. She rode the wave of their bodies arching and descending, taking him inside her deep, deeper. The slow erotic rhythm she created tortured
them both as she seesawed on his erection, up and then down.

  He rubbed her flesh again and again. Hot embers ignited and the flames grew until a fire raged like an inferno. Sizzling heat engulfed her. Sexy, desperate words ripped from Clay’s mouth, encouraging her, praising her. He was as far gone as she was. She stretched her body back in a full arch, her hair catching air and flying past her shoulders. He gripped her hips and helped her take the hard deep ride. Her eyes slammed shut, but brilliant, dazzling lights appeared in them. “Clay!” she cried.

  “Damn…” His voice was hoarse and desperate. He rasped out lusty commands that filled her mind and she answered him with her body, taking them both on the wildest ride of their lives.

  Their orgasm burst like a rocket, the countdown fully synchronized and perfectly timed. Shudders racked Clay’s body visibly and she opened her eyes in time to see the tormented pleasure on his face, to see admiration fill his eyes and the beauty that was his body, fully sated.

  The landing was easy and gentle. They came down together exhausted.

  Trish relaxed on Clay and he kissed the top of her head.

  She clung to him as he clung to her.

  They were quiet for a time, then Trish sat up and began to rise from the bed. Clay reached out to tug at her hand before she made it off the mattress. “Where are you going?”

  “To check on the baby,” she said.

  He lifted up. “I’ll come.”

  Immediately, she shook her head. “Stay. Wait for me. I’ll be back soon.”

  Clay stared at her for a brief moment and then nodded. He lay down on the bed and watched her put on her robe and pad out of the room.

  Trish staggered against the wall in the other bedroom and braced herself. That had been incredible. Her body still hummed to Clay’s beat. She was complete for the moment, but her hunger for Clay hadn’t fully ebbed. She still wanted him, wanted more of the exquisite sensations running through her system. She wanted to overload on him and have him overload on her.

  It was going to be a great night, with no holds barred.

  She peered at Meggie who was just rousing. It was time for a diaper change and a bottle. She watched the baby wake, the beginning of awareness as she scooted around looking for comfort until her eyes snapped open and she realized she was alone.

  Before she let out a peep, Trish approached the playpen. “I’m here, baby girl.”

  Meggie’s face scrunched up. She was wet and hungry and ready to let go a wail of frustration. “No, no. Shush, sweetheart.”

  She bent to pick Meggie up and cuddled her to her chest. The baby surrendered immediately, taking the comfort and love she offered. At that moment, Trish felt an alarming sense of not only peace but of completeness. With Clay lying in the room next door and Meggie in her arms now, Trish had it all and the hollow ache that followed warned her not to go there. She didn’t have it all. It was an illusion.

  Red Ridge wasn’t her home.

  Clay wasn’t her man…much longer.

  As long as she remembered that, she’d do fine.

  She diapered Meggie without fuss and replaced her slightly soiled pajamas with a pair with cute little brown and yellow animals on them. She carried Meggie into the kitchen to warm her bottle. While she waited for the pot to heat, she sat with Meggie in the parlor and rocked her gently, humming a lullaby.

  A shadow caught her eye and she turned. Clay leaned casually against the wall, dressed only in his jeans, arms and feet crossed, watching her. They stared at each other, then Clay’s eyes drifted to the baby.

  It was a beautiful sight, seeing the warmth overflow in his eyes, seeing the yearning there as he looked at her daughter. It was a moment, a brief interlude in time where all things were possible and imaginable.

  But Trish put a halt to that thinking. She hadn’t come to Red Ridge to get Clay back. She’d come for the opposite reason. Nothing had been resolved between them. Not one thing. She hated to mar this moment with harsh reality, but it cruelly stared back at her regardless. Her heart took a tumble. Her time here with Clay had nothing to do with Meggie. She should have known she couldn’t have avoided this. The guesthouse was small and her plan had flaws. But as soon as she left town, Clay would move on with his life.

  Tomorrow Trish would phone her Realtor and set her future plans in motion. Spending time with Clay could only be a brief interlude before her new life truly began.

  She felt some relief when Clay walked into the kitchen. It gave her time to regroup and forget the protective glint she witnessed in his eyes when he looked at Meggie. She tightened her hold on the baby, continuing to hum, rocking her back and forth gently.

  Minutes later, Clay returned with the warmed bottle. He sat down next to her quietly and handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” she whispered.

  He swept her hair from her throat and kissed her there. “You’re welcome.”

  Tingles danced along her nerve endings.

  “Put her down in her crib when you’re through,” he said softly, stroking Meggie’s head.

  Meggie glanced at him, curious, but when Trish put the bottle near her mouth, all curiosity faded and she became eagerly intent on sucking the formula dry.

  Trish had put Meggie down in the play yard, where she normally napped, so that she could have a few hours with Clay in the master bedroom. She’d felt a little guilty about it, although the baby slept well in both beds, but Clay had recognized what she’d done and wanted Meggie to have her own bed for the rest of the night.

  Trish nodded and felt immeasurably closer to Clay because of it.

  Meggie fell back asleep after her feeding and Trish carried her to the master bedroom. Clay followed and watched her lay the baby down. He blew out the candles that had melted halfway down and picked up the wineglasses. He left the room and Trish found him in the kitchen, waiting for her.

  “She’s out again.”

  Clay smiled. “That a girl.” His hair was rumpled due to her probing fingers. The early hint of a day-old beard divided his face from jawline to cheek, making him look even sexier, if that were possible.

  Clay handed her a glass of wine and she took one sip. Her days of drinking anything more than an infinitesimal amount of alcohol were over. She was a single mother now and had to keep her wits about her day and night for the baby. She didn’t need booze to make her want Clay. He was sex in a bottle and they’d always gotten drunk on each other.

  This memory would stay close to her heart because when she got back to Nashville, her life would shift in another direction entirely, centered around Meggie and her work. She wouldn’t have time for men. She couldn’t even fathom letting someone get close again. Trish grew up not trusting in others much less the ones who claimed to love you.

  She turned to rinse out the bottle at the sink rather than drool over her husband and feel things she had no right feeling anymore. It was a screwy set of circumstances that was starting to really confuse her.

  Clay came up from behind, tucking her head on his shoulder and pulling her close as his body met hers through their nightclothes. “What are you doing now?” he asked.

  Right away, the confusion cleared. She wasn’t going to overthink her actions tonight. She would go with the flow and heed the desire that she couldn’t deny. Without hesitation, she turned in his arms and untied her robe. His eyes drifted to her naked body. “You.” She kissed him softly, her mouth lingering, whispering over his warm lips. “I’m going to do you, again.”

  His laugh was deep and husky as he bent her back and glanced at the granite counter with a sinister arch of his brow. “Any particular place in mind?”

  “Your choice this time, but I get the next.”

  Then she draped her arms around his neck and clung on.

  Eight

  “You can’t be serious about this,” Trish said to Clay, her nerves jumping.

  “You’ve gotta stop worrying so much.” He sat on a big sorrel cutting horse named Thunder. The gelding was huge. H
is name alone brought fear into her heart. How had she let Clay talk her into this?

  He reached down for Meggie and Trish wanted to take the baby and make a run for the hills. “Hand her up to me.”

  “You’re sure?” She kept her voice down and Meggie plastered to her chest. Trish didn’t want to argue with Clay or undermine his authority in front of the children. She glanced back at all of their eager faces as they sat on their horses, waiting to leave the corral area behind. This was the third group of “ranch hands” to come to Penny’s Song in the three weeks since she’d been here. And each group of kids she’d met had taken an instant liking to Meggie. They were thrilled that she was taking a ride along the Red Ridge path with them. “I mean, she won’t fall or anything, will she?”

  Clay cut her a sharp look but kept his tone light. “You trying to insult me, honey?”

  “No, of course not,” she whispered, quickly shaking her head.

  “I’ve been riding since I was three. I ride better than I walk. Isn’t that a fact, Wes?” Clay glanced at his foreman who was right beside them, helping an eight-year-old girl named Melinda onto a mellow chestnut mare.

  “That’s right. The baby will be safe with Clay,” Wes called over to Trish. He tightened the cinch on the saddle and adjusted the stirrups to the child’s size. “That gelding knows who’s boss, too.”

  “You see?” Clay sent her a satisfied nod. “She’s gonna be in the sling thingy anyway. You said yourself, it’s sturdy. And you’re gonna be riding right next to me.”

  Trish knew all that. She trusted Clay. He was an expert horseman, but her nerves still bounced. She felt an incredible sense of responsibility with the baby and worried herself sick over things. Clay told her she ought to let Meggie experience something new, in the BABYBJÖRN atop a horse. “Okay.”

  With trepidation, she handed Meggie up to him. The baby went all too willingly. The two were getting closer by the day. And Trish hadn’t been able to stop it. Her plan to keep Meggie and Clay apart had proven hopelessly impossible. They were both around Clay a great deal of the time, and it was clear that he thoroughly enjoyed being with the baby.