by Sara Arden
He was a competitive kind of guy and she loved it.
She raked her nails lightly down over his obliques and his body tensed, tightening and flexing, his cock jerking in response to her stimulation.
“It’s been too long, Tuck. Don’t deny me.”
“What do you want? Tell me,” she commanded.
“I want to taste you while you taste me.”
“That’s wicked. Aren’t you the least bit ashamed?” Kentucky grinned and stroked him.
“Not a single bit.” He pulled her up.
She allowed it and helped him strip off the rest of her clothes.
“I want to remember this moment after we’re moved in and this is our bedroom. I want to be able to look at this place and remember that’s where it happened. Where we agreed to love each other forever and then drove each other wild. So we never lose that wildness in our marriage, and we never lose it in ourselves.”
“Again with the pretty words. You have more of those than you think.”
“Only when I’m with you.”
He guided her up so that her knees were braced against either shoulder and his hot tongue thrust up against her cleft while she fellated him.
A lifetime of sex with this man would never be a bad thing.
He moved his tongue in time with hers. When she increased the speed and pressure, so did he. He was singularly focused on bringing her to climax, which was hot as hell. She worked his cock ever more diligently, tasting him and the evidence of his desire on her tongue.
Bliss built inside her with every tandem stroke of their tongues.
It had been much too long and she wasn’t ready for it to be over yet, but his hands anchored around her hips and dragged her down to his mouth so she couldn’t flee the sensation and electric ecstasy bloomed and she shuddered against his lips as he continued to lick and kiss her.
When he released her, she was a boneless mess and he loomed above her. “I hope you’re not done, because I’m not.”
She hooked her legs around his hips and he pushed into her with no preamble—it wasn’t needed. She was so slick and wanting. Her eyes were heavy, but he wouldn’t let her escape the intensity between them.
“Open your eyes. I want to see you.”
“Mmm,” she moaned. “You can see me.”
“No, I can see your body. I want to see you. That’s only in your eyes, Tuck.”
She opened her eyes slowly, dragging her eyelids up, and when she looked into his eyes, she knew what he meant. This joining of bodies was hot; there was an earthy physicality to their pleasure.
But staring into his eyes while they made love, well, that was when it became making love.
Desire surged inside her again and she drew him deeper, kept squeezing him with her inner walls.
She liked watching the play of expressions on his face as he fought his orgasm. She always thought he approached lovemaking the same as he would a kind of op. He had a plan—he evaluated weaknesses and then exploited them until he got the desired effect.
Now she was doing it to him.
And she’d gain his surrender.
Kentucky arched up to meet him, his thrusts hitting her in that place deep inside that caused sensation to spiral outward through her whole body so that she felt it in the tips of her fingers.
She hoped that never changed.
Her entire body quivered in response to the stimulation and he did it again and again until she thought she was going to orgasm yet again.
She wasn’t about to be outdone.
Kentucky raked her nails down his back, giving him that edge that he enjoyed, and he tensed, causing him to press into her hard and deep.
She cried out.
So he did it again.
“Surrender to me, Sean.”
“I already have,” he growled in her ear.
Then he kissed her. His mouth, tasting of her, slanted over her lips and she shared their mutual pleasure.
Despite her good intentions, it sent her over the edge. He followed suit and spilled into her body, hips jerking hard as the aftershocks of their lovemaking consumed them.
“I fucking love you,” he said when he collapsed next to her.
She loved the way he said it. As if he was in awe of it somehow, as if it was a kind of magic. Who knew—maybe it was.
“I fucking love you, too.” She laughed, breathless.
“Is this everything you wanted?”
“And then some.”
His fingers twined with hers. “Me, too.”
As they lay together, catching their breath and basking in the sunrise-like sensation of the afterglow, it occurred to Kentucky that she’d gotten everything she ever wanted.
Everything she’d dreamed about in the dark and secret places she’d been afraid to show to anyone else and sometimes even herself.
She’d had a few dark moments where she thought she’d lost, where she thought she’d been beaten, but she’d never surrendered.
Neither had Sean.
She knew they’d be stronger together, and as they faced the uncertainty of life hand in hand, that would be the thing that defined them: no surrender.
Kentucky wouldn’t have it any other way.
Epilogue
SEAN DRYDEN HAD been gone for two weeks.
It seemed like the longest two weeks of his life. Every second he spent away from his new family was like a year. He wondered what new things Anna had learned while he was gone. He wondered if their home would still seem like the haven it had been before he left.
He pulled up to the front door of the yellow house and the porch lamp was a beacon lighting his way home.
When he stepped outside, the last vestiges of winter were fading and he inhaled the first scents of the coming spring. Of Kansas. Of home.
As he opened the front door to the new house in the Pleasant Grove development, he was hit with the clean, homey smell of vanilla, baby wash and chocolate chip cookies.
He wandered into the kitchen, where a plate of cookies sat with a folded piece of paper with his name on it. Missed you, flyboy. Come up to bed after your cookies.
Kentucky’d made these for him after he’d texted to tell her he’d be home the next day.
He popped one into his mouth and it was homemade heaven.
The house was mostly clean, he noticed. Even the clutter of various things required for a baby was organized. The downstairs changing table was stocked and neat, and all of Anna’s toys were in the small tote, as were her pacifiers.
Sean could only imagine the work it had taken to keep everything so perfect. He wondered when Kentucky slept.
He considered just sleeping on the couch to let her rest, but he ate another cookie and held the note up to read it again.
She wanted him to come to bed. Told him to, even. She knew he wouldn’t want to wake her, since she got so little sleep as it was.
He got a glass and the milk out of the fridge and poured himself some to dip a few more cookies in. He’d been eating nothing but dehydrated rations on this mission. They were easiest to transport to the jungle. So he appreciated the texture, the scent, the subtleties of the cookies in a way he hadn’t thought possible.
It made him think about her hands in the dough. Made him wonder what she’d been thinking about while she made them. If she’d done it while Anna was sleeping or if she’d been “helping” somehow. Most likely just gurgling in the bassinet. Before he knew it, he’d eaten the whole plate.
They were damn good. A few extra days in the gym would be totally worth it. Not tomorrow, though. Tomorrow was all about Kentucky and Anna. He wanted to remind himself why he did this job and to be actively grateful for this amazing life.
He went to go put his plate in the sink and he saw that there were a few bottles that needed to be washed.
Sean unloaded the dishwasher and insp
ected each item to make sure it was clean before he put it away. Then he loaded the dirty dishes from his cookies and the bottles and ran another load. He wiped down the counters and even prepped a bottle for when Anna woke up in—he checked his watch—probably an hour.
He walked up the stairs slowly to their bedroom and tried to be quiet as he opened the door and peeled off his clothes, watching Kentucky as he did so, drinking in the sight of her. She was beautiful, lying there in their bed with her hair spread out behind her like a fan, the bare pale skin of one shoulder exposed to his view.
He liked the silhouette of her curves against the blanket and couldn’t wait until he could touch her again, really touch her. Make love to her. But for now, he was content to hold her close. Sean slid in bed next to the woman who would be his wife and pulled her close carefully. She stirred, sleepy and warm, scooting back against him.
The nape of her neck smelled like cookies. He pressed a kiss to that tender place, inhaling the sweet cookie scent.
And Kentucky, well…she felt like home. Being close to her, having her in his arms like this, it was home; it was family. It was everything.
He loved this house, this home they’d built together, but it would be nothing without her.
“Missed you so much,” she murmured.
“I missed you more,” he whispered into her ear.
Her fingers laced with his. “Nuh-uh.”
“I missed you so much I did the dishes,” he teased.
“Mmm. ’Kay. You win.” She squirmed against him. “Did you think about me?”
“Every night.” More than that, but he knew what she was asking. If he still found her desirable. If he still wanted her. His cock was hard for her right now, but he was happy just being close to her.
“It’s been four weeks.” She moved her hand to slide between them and cup him.
Her touch was sweet torture. “It has, but the doc said six to eight.”
“I’m dying, Sean. For real.”
“Baby, give your body time to heal. I’m not going anywhere. You’re still beautiful and sexy as hell.”
She started moving her hand over his cock, determined to get her way. He allowed the caress, because if she wanted to pleasure him, who was he to argue?
Maybe it wasn’t yet time for sex with penetration, but he could damn sure give her some attention with his mouth. He’d longed for the taste of her more than her cookies.
His hips bucked up into her ministrations and she laughed, turning over and sliding down his body, pausing to press her mouth over each of his very defined ab muscles—which wouldn’t stay that way if she kept making him cookies—on her way to his cock.
Then Anna’s small cries echoed into their room.
Kentucky leaned down and pressed her forehead to his stomach in a kind of surrender with a sigh.
She flopped over onto her back. “Duty calls.” Kentucky began to get up.
Sean pinned her beneath him and he kissed her lips hard. “Ah, but, my love, the other sweet girl who has my heart calls. It’s my turn and my pleasure to answer.”
Kentucky laughed. “Yeah, I guess she gets dibs.”
“Especially since that means you get to stay in bed and go back to sleep.”
“Are you sure? You must’ve pushed hard to get home this early,” she said even as she snuggled under the covers.
“I can sleep when she’s a teenager and hates me.” He pressed the blanket in around her.
“Unlikely. When she’s a teenager and hates you, she’ll be dating inappropriate boys to piss you off. So you’ll be sitting outside cleaning your Beretta or something.”
He laughed. “No, I won’t. We’ll give her the tools to make good choices even if she does hate me for a year or two.”
“I’m so happy it’s a little gross,” she confessed.
“Me, too. I never thought a life like this would be a slice of heaven, but it is. When I think about all the ways it could’ve gone wrong, all the chances we had to screw it up…” He shook his head.
“I can finally say that I got something right.” She rolled over and untucked herself so she could reach out and cup his cheek. “I love you, Sean.”
“You get a lot of things right.” He kissed her again. “I love you.” Sean pulled the covers back up over her. “Now get some rest. I know you’re exhausted.”
He slipped into his boxers and padded to Anna’s room. It was a happy yellow with pink flowers and cartoon-character cars on the wall.
She fussed and wiggled her hands and feet, moving all of her limbs faster when she saw him.
Sean reached into the crib and picked her up, the weight of her precious and sweet. He held her up to his shoulder and she turned her face into his neck, still fussing softly.
“Oh, how I missed you, my princess.” He stroked her back through the pink terry cloth onesie.
He carried her back downstairs to the kitchen and prepared the bottle. Sean settled into the recliner with his daughter in his arms and thought again, yeah. His life was kind of perfect.
*
Keep reading for an excerpt from COWBOY AFTER DARK by Vicki Lewis Thompson.
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Cowboy After Dark
by Vicki Lewis Thompson
1
LIAM MAGEE PULLED off the road, shoved back his hat and peered through the windshield of his truck. “That’s a helluva steep driveway, Grady.”
“Yeah.” His brother studied the incline. “You should probably come around again and make a run at it. I’m pretty sure if you hang a right at the corner, you can circle the block.”
“I know I can. I used to date a girl who lived on the next street over. Whenever we had a fight, I’d drive that loop more than a few times until I cooled down enough to apologize.” He looked at the slope and calculated how fast he’d have to be going when he started up. At least it was July. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would create a driveway like that in Sheridan, Wyoming, unless it doubled as a toboggan run. “You’d better check the hitch and make sure the tie-downs are tight.”
“Will do.” Grady hopped out and loped back to the flatbed they were towing.
Liam wasn’t going to say it and upset
Grady, but they were courting disaster hauling the loaded flatbed up that hill. His big-hearted brother had made a spectacular wedding present for his foster brother Damon Harrison, and he was determined to deliver it when nobody was home. He wanted it to be a surprise.
Years ago, Damon had been a significant role model for Grady—likely still was, judging from this wedding gift. Damon had been one of the older guys at Thunder Mountain Ranch, formerly a home for foster boys and now a student academy for everything horse-related.
Located a few miles outside Sheridan, the ranch had once provided a temporary haven for Liam and Grady while their mom recovered from a bad car accident. Damon’s determination to become a master carpenter after high school had inspired Grady to learn a trade. He’d chosen welding, a skill that had landed him a job in Alaska working on a pipeline.
He’d come back to rejoin Liam in Cody a couple of years ago with a new dream. His recycled metal sculptures had taken the local art world by storm, and he was making money hand over fist. Liam couldn’t be prouder of his little brother.
Naturally Grady had wanted to create something special for Damon and his bride Philomena. He’d welded about five hundred pounds of scrap metal into a ten-foot sculpture. Although a gallery would charge thousands for the piece, discussing the market value of his work always made Grady laugh.
He created for the love of it. When the price of his sculptures had skyrocketed, he’d asked Liam to invest the money that kept pouring in because dealing with that aspect of success wasn’t his thing. Surprises were his thing, though, and he desperately wanted to surprise Damon and Phil.
Liam had asked some of his river-rafting coworkers to help load the gift onto the flatbed in Cody. The trailer had a tilting mechanism, so if Liam could get it up the hill, he and Grady should be able to install the sculpture somewhere in the yard. If the spot didn’t suit Damon and Philomena, Grady could enlist some of the guys from the wedding party to help move it.
Grady climbed back in the cab. “Everything looks good. I spotted an SUV and a truck parked up by the house, though. Are you sure nobody’s there?”
“Shouldn’t be. Damon told us to meet him at the ranch, and Phil’s supposed to be in town at her bachelorette shindig.” Liam felt a stab of guilt. He’d been afraid the happy couple wouldn’t welcome a gigantic wedding gift, so he’d secretly warned Damon that something big and metallic was coming his way. Turned out Phil was a huge Grady Magee fan, so Damon heartily approved of the gift.
