“You got pissed when that waiter implied I wasn’t good enough because I was pregnant and not married. As though he could judge my character so easily.”
“He’s an asshole.” I’m clenching my jaw so hard it hurts.
“The thing is, something’s shifted inside of you. If it hadn’t, you’d never have touched me in the first place. Your eyes are different. You see me. I don’t know why. I don’t know how… I just know you see me. And when you touch me, it’s right.”
I play back our conversations in my mind. I’ve never talked about any of this shit with her. I honestly don’t know what to say.
“Just wanted to let you know…” Her voice trails off. When I glance over, she’s looking out her window. Somehow, I think that if anyone else spouted this to me I’d write them off. But it’s Charlie.
My pregnant little hippie.
And damned if she isn’t right. Something has shifted.
And touching her is different. I take her hand again and squeeze.
It’s after eleven by the time I pull into the ranch. I leave the truck with an attendant and toss him my keys. Charlie’s still wearing her sweater, looking like she’s getting ready to tell me goodnight.
This might be tricky for her.
She works here.
We drift away from the offices. Once I’m sure we’re out of sight, hidden by the darkness and shadows, I pull her up against me and brush my lips by her ear. I don’t want this night to end.
Neither does she.
“Come back with me.” And then I can’t help nipping her lightly. “No pressure. Just come with me.”
She nods. I take her hand and we stroll toward the path to my cabin.
We’ve talked a lot. This is just as good. This quiet with her. This peace.
We’re also wading through an ocean of sexual tension. I open the door to my cabin and flip on a lamp. The light is soft. I release her and head for the kitchen. “Drink?”
She hugs herself. “Maybe that half glass of red wine.” She looks a little uncertain. “My doctor says it’s okay.”
I’m shaking my head. She doesn’t need to explain herself to me, but I know she cares what I think. “My sound guy’s wife’s doc told her the same thing.” I pull out a bottle of Caymus, one of my favorite Cabernets, and uncork it. Then I pour two full glasses.
She’s slipped those sexy little sandals off and made herself comfortable on the couch. God, I’ve been waiting to be alone with her all night.
Ever since I checked into this crazy place.
I hand over her glass and lower myself beside her. She takes a sip and licks her lips. I lean in and taste them too. Sweet Petals. So soft I imagine rose petals.
Hell, she’s got me spouting poetry. I mentally take a note. Rose petal lips.
Without taking my mouth off of hers, I remove the glass from her fingers and place it on the end table with mine.
Oh, fuck. She tastes so good. I can’t get enough. She’s bewitched me. She owns me. I peel her sweater off and trail my lips down her throat, her chest.
I can’t lie on top of her. I shift us so she’s straddling me. I haven’t enjoyed kissing this much since I was sixteen. She’s perfect. Her flavor, her scent, her ass in my hands.
My jeans are tight. Too fucking tight. I jerk my hips up, thrusting at her core. She grinds down. I pull her dress down, no bra. I want. This. Woman.
Her breasts are heavy, alabaster. Perfect. A few tiny pale blue veins spider out from her areola. I flick my tongue along them.
She cries out.
I latch on to one breast. She moans and grinds down on me.
And then something crazy happens.
I feel the baby kick. It takes her a minute to realize that I’ve timed out.
Not that I’m not still hard as hell, but this is new territory.
I cannot just fuck this woman.
It has to be more, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
She mews a little and drops her head on my shoulder. I remember the words she’d started saying before I kissed her earlier tonight. She said she hadn’t had sex in a long time. Something about her hormones.
I slide one hand down to her leg and slip it under her dress. Then I search higher. Her core is open to me.
So wet. Her panties are drenched.
I clench my teeth to keep under control and dip my fingers inside.
Soft, buttery. Tight. She welcomes my hand. Her teeth bite into my shoulder and her breathing comes in little hitches. Each fluttering gasp melts something in my chest.
“I don’t know much about this stuff,” I murmur against her skin. I don’t want to hurt her.
“It’s okay.” She buries her face in my neck. “I’m good.”
She’s so responsive, I’m in heaven. Just touching her.
“Feels so good.” Her words light me up.
“You need this.”
She answers with her body. Pulsing. Hungry.
I cup her with my hand and then thrust a second finger in. When my thumb rolls around her clit, she tenses and cries out.
Her head tips back and those pink little lips part. For a moment, I imagine winding her braid around my hand and fucking her amazing mouth.
Gorgeous.
She’s gone over. All tense, breasts heaving. I want to do nothing but give this woman pleasure.
She collapses on me. I’m still holding her. My hand wet with her juices.
I’m not done.
I give her a minute and then settle her back onto the couch. She’s limp, a satisfied smile playing around her mouth.
“Wow,” she whispers as though speaking out loud would require too much effort right now.
I kneel on the floor before her and pull her ass to the edge. This captures her full attention again. She stares at me with widened eyes as I bend her knees and settle them on my shoulders. “You don’t have to… Colt. Oh.” Her voice hitches.
Her hands reach for me before my face is even under her dress. Her lips are plump and red; silky, buttery, flesh. I lick. I suck. I can’t get enough of her. Her muscles clench around me and I respond by rubbing my face along her inner thigh. She’s coming undone again. I can tell by the sounds she’s making.
Best music in the world.
I barely slide a finger in and she’s throbbing all around me again. I hold my mouth against her until she stops pulsing. I can’t believe how easily she comes.
She’s now my exhausted pregnant hippie.
And I did all the “work.” I’m grinning from ear to fucking ear. I can’t remember enjoying this so much. I could eat her again and again. I’m fucking hard, but my cock’s going to have to wait. I climb onto the couch and pull her down to lie beside me. She’s relaxed and pliable. The best way to describe her is “boneless.”
“Oh, my God, Colt. You don’t know how badly I needed that.”
I can’t help chuckling at her honesty. “I live to serve.” The taste of her remains on my lips, and I run my tongue over them, savoring it… savoring her. I feel honored, gifted even.
“Different? Right?” She snuggles into me sleepily. I know exactly what she means. My little witch.
“So much,” I admit gruffly.
“I can’t move right now. I might never move again,” she murmurs. “But I promise I’ll take care of you later.”
Cock-driven man whore that I am, I’m not taking her up on this. “Don’t mention it. I’m only glad I can be of assistance.” In fact, I’m good. As long as it’s all about her, I don’t feel like she’ll be contaminated by me.
CHAPTER TEN
Charlie
The man knows what he’s doing. My lady parts celebrate at having pretty much just won the Orgasm Lottery.
My mind wants to analyze all this. Why Colt Friggin’ Forrester? Why now? I mean, something’s happening here, and I don’t understand it.
But for now, all I can do is lie here and bask in satisfaction. He’s the second guy to ever go down on me like that. The f
irst having been Brent.
No comparison.
Even though we’d been dating for quite a while, I’d felt self-conscious with Brent, mortified even. My brain just wouldn’t shut off. I’d felt like Brent was doing it for something in return. Like it was a chore. The more I dwelled on trying to finish, the less my body responded. Brent got impatient. He even stopped once to ask what was taking me so long. Needless to say, the entire endeavor ended fruitlessly.
But with Colt.
His hunger drove my arousal places I’d never imagined.
Twice.
I finally manage to move, so I turn and snuggle into him deeper, my face against his chest. I don’t remember him removing his tie, but he must have done it himself when he opened the wine because the top few buttons of his shirt are undone and I can see hints of curling dark hairs contrasting against his skin.
I press my lips against the smooth flesh, and he moans. Even with Squirt’s bump between us, I feel how hard he is. I want to give him some of the same satisfaction he’s given me. I’m also curious. I want to see him. All of him.
These hormones of mine are out of control.
But when I slide my hand down to the button on his trousers, he stops me. I think he’s playing, and I dive for him again, but he’s adamant. He doesn’t want my hands down there.
Unease trickles in. Had I read this all wrong? I’m no longer relaxed, comfortable.
This is his cabin. I’m on his turf.
I feign a yawn and sit up. “I should be getting home.” His arm snakes around below Squirt, but I resist. “No, I really need to get back.” I try to sound cheerful but apparently, I’ve failed.
“What?” He’s not irritated. He’s tense. It’s in his voice. He pulls me onto his lap, my back against him. His breath warms the skin behind my ear.
How do I say this? I’m not even sure what I’m feeling. “I…” The kisses he’s trailing along my shoulder make it difficult to think. “I’m a little overwhelmed, I guess?” And confused. This relationship can’t really go anywhere. He’s a freaking country rock star. He’s only scheduled to be here for two weeks.
And where is this coming from anyway? This was just about sex, wasn’t it?
His hands rub up and down the length of my arms. “But you’re okay?”
I’m being ridiculous. He’s just given me two of the most amazing orgasms of my life, and now I’m acting all whiny?
So not me.
I turn so that I can reach his lips. “I’m so very okay…”
This kiss is long and tender and slow but when we finally break apart, the awkwardness returns. I slip my feet into my sandals and then he helps me into my sweater.
Although lights are interspersed along the path, the heavy darkness wraps around us.
“How come you don’t want me to touch you?” I blurt the question out. This stuff never stays inside me for long. His response to me just doesn’t make sense. By pushing my hands away, he’d changed the dynamics between us.
I take a few more steps before realizing he’s stopped. When I turn around, my heart cracks. So damn good looking, even when I can barely see him. His charisma emanates from his casual stance, his broad shoulders, and a humming energy. He’s jammed his hands into his front pockets. I can’t see his eyes, but the intensity of his stare pierces me through the darkness.”
“It’s always about me,” he finally grinds out. “I don’t want this to be about me.” He drops his head forward and kicks at a rock.
Something releases inside me. Soft rain. Effervescent bubbles. Kittens. I choke on a happy sob. God, I’m such an idiot. A little emotional these day, I’m totally off my game.
“Colt.” I say his name and cover the few steps between us. “Where did you come from?” My hands are on the sides of his face. My fingers loving the feel of his stubble. I press my lips against his. His mouth is closed at first but gradually opens for me. “Two of us.” I say the words without moving away. “Me and you.”
He grazes his mouth along my jaw. “I know. I know.” He breathes the words. “But for now. Let me…” A shudder rips through his large frame. “Let me do this.”
It’s about the guilt. That cold, empty feeling he experienced the other day. Had that just been yesterday? I feel like I’ve known him a lifetime. I’m nodding. This is what he needs for now. “I hate being pushed away.” I try to explain. “It’s confusing.” He needs to know this. “At some point you need to let me give to you. Don’t take that away from me.”
His short laugh echoes ironically. But he doesn’t let me go. I absorb his warmth. A part of me wants to stay with him tonight, in his bed, but the rational side of me knows I need to regroup. Assess what’s happening without the heady distraction of his presence. Holding hands, we walk to my cabin. I’m lucky that I have my own place set on the edge of the employee cabins.
“Now I know where to find you.” He pulls me up against him again when I stop at my door.
“I’d invite you in,” I tease. “But I might compromise you.”
A lingering kiss, and I finally unlock the door.
He takes a few backward steps. “Come see me when you get off work.” His words float through the darkness. “I’ll cook for you.”
Another date. More exposure to his deadly charm.
I’m grinning. “I can’t wait.”
He springs forward, pressing his lips against mine in a quick kiss. “Night, Beautiful.” And then he turns and jogs away.
I watch him disappear before closing my door and locking it. I feel so good right now it scares me. Because the higher I get, the further I’ll have to fall.
I guess I’ll just have to fall then.
It’s not in my DNA to give into fear. I won’t start now.
“God, you look happy.” Teri shuffles a few files around and drops them on my desk. “I can’t imagine why.”
As much as I tried to keep my involvement with Colt quiet, word got out anyway. Colt and I have seen each other every day for a week now. And in a place like the Ranch, gossip spreads like wild fire. Especially when it involves their pregnant masseuse/Guest Services agent hooking up with a world-renowned country music star.
“He’s fun.” I don’t want to admit how hard I’m falling. “We have a lot in common.” Which, yeah, that sounds a little ridiculous, right? But it’s not.
He’s adorable. He’s attended a few regular yoga classes and has admitted he enjoys them. He’s gone rafting again, done a few hiking trips, and occasionally slips in a game of golf.
Teri frowns. “So, it’s just fun. Promise me you won’t fall in love. I don’t want to see you heartbroken again.”
She’s been with me through it all. “Brent didn’t break my heart.” The rat turd didn’t even tell me he was leaving. I found out he was gone when I came in to work the next Monday. “He simply revealed my own lack of good judgement.”
“Yeah, but…” Teri trailed off. “Colt Forrester? Be careful, okay? He’s not exactly relationship material.”
Her words are well meant. Of course, I know Colt is leaving. It’s a constant ache in the back of my mind.
I can’t dwell on it. I’m determined to enjoy what we have for now.
We have fun together.
Although we’ve left the ranch a few times for dinner, we seem to have the most fun cooking together, in his cabin.
Always his cabin.
I can’t bring him into mine. It would only make it harder after he leaves. I need to protect that part of me. Keep my home a sanctuary for afterwards… I tell myself over and over again that Colt and I are just having fun. He jokes about his sole purpose in life being to calm my “raging hormones.” We’re enjoying one another physically, and in one week we’ll say goodbye as friends.
And he does enjoy me. Almost as much as I enjoy him.
I’m not fooling myself.
He’s even admitted to calling me his muse. He’s writing music again. Says he hasn’t written anything new in years.
&
nbsp; Some nights we watch movies, others I listen to him play his guitar. But in the end things turn physical. We can’t help it.
My raging hormones are quite satisfied, thank you. They no longer have any reason whatsoever to complain.
Except… He’s given me, seriously, about fifteen amazing orgasms and not allowed me to give him even one. But I’m determined tonight. Even if it’s only a hand job.
“Charlie?” Teri is leaning over my desk. “Wow. You’ve got it bad. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”
“No.” I deny it. “I’m just tired.” I pat the top of my stomach. I’m thirty-five weeks along now. Five more weeks. Squirt’s been growing like crazy. I’m getting excited.
I’m also scared.
But it’s okay. Things will work out. They always do.
“What time are you leaving?” Teri’s question reminds me I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon. My midwife works out of a birthing center over an hour away. I probably won’t get back until after six.
“About three?”
“Give yourself plenty of time.” Teri’s been great about this stuff. She pats me on the shoulder and walks back to her office.
Colt and I haven’t talked much about Squirt. Our situation is unique, and he’s been amazing. He touches my bump all the time. Sometimes it feels like he’s imagining that Squirt’s his, but that’s probably my own wishful thinking.
What we don’t talk about is the future. And make no doubt about it, Squirt is my future. I shove these thoughts aside and open my computer. Colt’s playing golf today but I need to let him know I’ll be later than usual. We plan on cooking Vietnamese tonight. He’s having the ingredients delivered. I’ve never had so much fun cooking as when we do it together.
I pull out my phone.
Me: I’ll be late tonight. I have to go see my midwife.
Since he’s out on the course, I don’t expect to hear back from him for a while, but the little bubbles start bouncing up and down right away.
Colt: Everything okay? Do you need me to drive you?
Colt: I’ll be there in ten minutes.
Me: No. No.
Me: Just a standard checkup. Don’t come back.
The Mile High Madness Page 29
