The Cowboy and the Angel

by T. J. Kline

  She clicked on the first link, a bull rider who was hospitalized for a head and face injury. The next was an interview with a sports medicine specialist about the various injuries cowboys received most often in rodeo. She clicked on a video after reading the interview and watched a montage of footage from various rodeo injuries. It was brutal, and she found it hard to comprehend what drove them to get up and head to the next rodeo. She clicked on a link that led to a page raising funds for a cowboy’s family to pay for his medical bills.

  The door opened and she glanced up as Derek yanked his hat from his head and ran his fingers through his short hair, sighing.

  “Are you okay?” she asked quietly. He no longer looked angry, but lines were forming around his eyes, making him appear weary.

  He didn’t answer. Instead he tossed his hat on the table and closed her laptop, moving it to the couch beside her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Without giving her a chance to protest, he buried his hands in her hair at the back of her head and his lips found hers. Her fingers clenched at his forearms, trying to hold herself upright as the earth seemed to lurch under her. Derek’s arm wound around her waist and pulled her against him roughly. Her breasts molded against his chest as his tongue plunged into her mouth, sweeping away any objection her mind might conjure.

  His lips trailed over her jaw to her neck as she dropped her head backward. A soft whimper escaped her lips as he sucked at the sensitive flesh. Her hands slid over his arms and shoulders and she buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to her. His hand slid from her back, over her ribcage, and moved to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over the skin peeking from the lace at the top of the camisole top under her Western shirt. Explosions burst in her core, shocking her with the intensity, making her knees go weak. Her surprised gasp was caught by his mouth as he kissed her deeply, fully, leaving her clinging to him. Angela heard the pop of the snaps on the shirt she borrowed from Sydney as he tugged it from her waist and down her arms, leaving her standing in nothing more than a thin camisole and jeans.

  He pulled away only enough to look down at her, his gaze scorching her with his longing. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath from the sweet onslaught of his kisses. Derek’s finger traced the chain of her necklace to the ring, hanging just above her cleavage, her skin tingling wherever he touched. She blinked up at him, afraid to say anything for fear that he would stop.

  Please, don’t stop.

  His hand left her hair, slid over her side to her hip, and pulled her against him, his fingers curling into the flesh of her rear. She could feel his arousal against her and bit her lower lip nervously. His breath was as ragged as hers. Derek was the first man who had breached the wall she’d built around her. She’d never desired any man before Derek. Her one experience had resulted in Joe plying her with alcohol in college to convince her to even allow him to touch her. His touch hadn’t held a candle to the way Derek could light her body aflame. Only Derek could put out this inferno.

  “Angel?” Derek’s voice was thick and husky, his eyes nearly black with desire. “Do you want me to stop?”

  She couldn’t speak. Her outspoken, self-assured façade had disappeared at his touch. She shook her head and looked up at him through her lashes.

  He growled deep in his chest and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he turned and carried her up the stairs to the bed, laying her on the mattress gently. He lowered himself over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, covering her from chest to toe with his heat. Derek’s fingers brushed her cheeks and he followed the line of her lower lip with his thumb before replacing it with his mouth. He sucked at her upper lip slightly before slipping his tongue inside to mate with hers.

  His fingertips trailed over her collarbone, sliding the strap from her camisole down her shoulder, and icy fire burst in her chest. She arched against him and he smiled against her lips. Bracing himself on his elbow, his fingers found the bottom edge of her camisole, sliding it up and over her flat abdomen. She shivered as his palm heated the flesh of her stomach, his fingers splaying toward the bottom of her bra. Angela couldn’t help herself as her fingers found their way beneath his t-shirt to caress the heated flesh, the hard muscles flexing under her touch. She ran her hands up his sides, feeling the ridges of muscle over his stomach.

  Derek pulled away from her only long enough to reach over his head and grasp the back of his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside. His eyes gleamed as he slid her camisole over her head, the breath rushing from his lungs. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently.

  She looked at him, a perfect specimen of manhood. He was a solid mass of muscle from his shoulders to the ridges over his stomach. She ran her fingers over him and watched as goose bumps broke out on his skin. He closed his eyes. “Derek?”

  He ran his thumb over the thin padding of her bra and she felt her body respond, lightning shooting through her limbs. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

  “Angel,” he whispered, laying his cheek against her stomach, the rasp of his day-old beard growth delicious against her skin. He pressed his lips to the sensitive flesh. “I need you. Real or not.”

  Angela looked down at him, confused by his words. Meeting his gaze, she saw the raw emotion in his deep brown eyes. She knew hers held the same yearning. She could’ve sworn she saw a flicker of insecurity before he reached behind her and removed her bra, tossing it aside with his shirt, releasing her breasts to his perusal.

  His eyes caressed her body, from the top of her head to her hips. “You’re perfect.” His thumb traced the outer edge of her breast and she moaned, closing her eyes as his hand covered her and he stretched out beside her. She felt warmth flood her lower body as his mouth replaced his fingers. She arched against him again, her legs tangling with his, her nails digging into his back with pleasure.

  “Please,” she begged.

  He smiled against her flesh, humor tingeing his voice. “Please what, Angel?” He curved one arm under her, holding her body close, his mouth trailing kisses down to her stomach. The rasp of his beard drove her over the edge as his hand slid to her denim-encased thigh. His finger caressed the center of her pleasure as he sought the button, slipping it open. “You’re wearing far too many clothes.”

  His teeth nipped at the rounded edge of her abdomen and he grasped the jeans at her hips and slid them down her legs, his fingers gliding over her skin, tickling behind her knees and back up her inner thighs. Derek traced a finger over the edge of her lace panties, hesitating as he reached the juncture of her thighs. A tremor of anticipation shook her, even as she fought the urge to cover herself.

  Derek stood, turning away from her, and he unbuckled his pants and slid them down his legs, followed by his underwear. He kicked off his boots as she watched the muscles of his backside flex and move. He was massive, and for a moment fear gripped her. She’d been with only one man, and she had bordered on tipsy at the time, but even then she’d given him only her body. That had been sex, and she’d been able to remain distant and closed off. With Derek, she couldn’t separate herself. She wanted to, but she didn’t want her heart involved. If she couldn’t hide her vulnerability, if he saw how much she cared, he could use it against her eventually.

  This was too dangerous. Panic swirled in her mind like smoke, pressing her need and desire aside in favor of self-preservation. Derek turned and looked at her, his gaze hot with lust, and her arms came to cover her breasts, tears leaping to her eyes as she tried to hide herself from him.

  He dropped to a knee on the mattress and slid alongside her, turning her toward him, cupping her face in his palm. “Angel, honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I . . .” She wasn’t sure how to answer his question.

  How could she explain that she couldn’t give him anything but her body, that she wanted him to take her body but not her heart? She brought her hands against his chest between them, trying to creating some distan
ce for her to think. Her breath hitched as she felt the shaft of him against her thigh. His fingers trailed down her arm and settled on her hip at the top of her panties.

  He closed his eyes as if struggling for control. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Did she? A part of her did. The ugly fear inside her wanted to run and hide behind the wall of unsatisfying, emotionally void relationships. She wanted to protect herself from turning into her mother, living for a man who wouldn’t love her more than he loved himself and dying in the street because he refused to try. Her heart cried out to let go, to allow Derek to see all of her, even the ugly fear—as he had done with her—and to let his touch cure the ache inside, to let him prove all love wasn’t painful or angry or self-satisfying.

  “No,” she whispered. Derek continued to stare at her and she wondered if he’d heard her. “I want this.”

  “I heard you.” He closed his eyes again. When he opened them he put his finger under her chin and lifted her face to look in her eyes.

  She could see the agony in his eyes, could feel the evidence of his desire between them, yet he was willing to deny himself for her. She felt the crack he’d managed to chip in the wall around her heart break completely. She had never felt so cherished. She rolled onto her back and pulled his mouth down to hers.

  “I have never wanted anything more,” she whispered against his lips. She meant every word.

  He brushed away a tear that slid from her eye over her temple. “Then why are you crying?” His mouth found the hollow of her throat and chills raced over her flesh, her nipples tightening into tight buds against his chest.

  She shook her head, unable to answer him as desire forced her fear to retreat. He sighed against her skin, his breath fanning over her breasts as he cupped one, his jaw scraping her skin.

  She mewed and arched against him again. “Derek,” she moaned.

  He slipped his fingers over the lace at the top of her panties, lifting her hips slightly and removing them before brushing his fingers over her mound. He nipped at her inner thigh and she yelped in pain until his tongue laved the spot. Fires burst over her skin and she reached for him. Derek brushed her hands from him and she clutched the blanket on the bed.

  “You’re so sweet,” he whispered against her skin as he slid a finger into the slick heat at her core. He groaned as he found the nub of her pleasure and she bucked beneath him.

  Angela’s body trembled and vibrated with . . . something. She felt as if she were straining, reaching, and unable to find what she sought. Derek’s fingers wreaked havoc on her senses, and she could only cling to his shoulders. When his lips found her breast while his fingers worked their magic, she felt herself burst into a thousand shards of light and cried out his name.

  Derek slid up her body, every inch of her that only moments before felt satiated now electrified and came alive again. She gasped at his erection pressed at the entry of her heat. He leaned to the side of the bed and she protested, arching against him unintentionally.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckled and grabbed his wallet from his pants, plucking the foil packet from within, tossing the wallet back to the floor. “Trust me, Angel. Wild horses couldn’t drag me from you right now.”

  Derek pressed himself against her for too brief a moment before moving away, sliding the condom over himself, and returning to her side. She felt him move between her thighs and she reached for his shoulders, her entire body needing to feel his flesh against her own. He ravished her mouth, his tongue dueling with hers as he slid into her, inch by pleasurable inch, with agonizing slowness. Her nails dug into the sinewed muscles of his back, silently pleading for more.

  She threw her head back, arching, his hands holding her spine as he stoked the fire within her. His mouth found the curve of her throat, licking, sucking, and drawing out a wantonness she had never known existed. She knew she would be embarrassed by her reaction to him later, but right now she could only rock with the sensation of Derek joined with her flesh and soul.

  “Look at me, Angel.” She obliged, opening her eyes and focusing on his face—that sexy mouth that had driven her mad only moments ago, and his eyes, nearly black with his own barely checked desire. “Don’t hide from me.” He drove her closer to the edge again, pulling back and slowing as she neared the precipice.

  “Derek. Oh, Derek,” she whimpered, needing to be closer to him.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, and her eyes widened as he plunged into her once more before she grasped his waist, crying out in pleasurable agony as she reached the heights again. Derek thrust into her, joining her waves of release, arching his back before falling, spent, by her side.

  His fingers trailed over the thin sheen of sweat between her breasts and she shivered. “Cold?”

  She laughed quietly. “Hardly.” She laid her fingers on the scruff of his jaw. “Derek, I don’t . . .”

  He covered her mouth with his, stealing the words from her lips, sucking her lower lip into his mouth, releasing it with a loud pop before getting up and walking into the bathroom. He returned and lay on his back, pulling her onto his chest. She giggled and laid her head on him, sighing as she ran her fingers over his chest and his flat nipples tightened into hard buds.

  “I think you’re the one who’s cold.”

  She smiled against the heavy wall of muscle. She wasn’t sure what had driven him to kiss her in the first place but he’d seemed angry when he first entered the trailer. She kissed his ribcage, tasting his saltiness on her lips. She knew she should be ashamed of herself and she might regret it in the very near future, but right now, curled in the warmth of his embrace, her skin still vibrating from their lovemaking with Derek’s fingers tracing patterns on her shoulder, she couldn’t feel anything but adored. She wrapped her arm around his waist and wondered if all relationships were like this . . . or was Derek something special? Right now, satiated, she didn’t care. That worry could wait for morning.

  Chapter Twenty

  * * *

  “ANGEL.”

  She sighed as she felt lips gently pressing against her forehead and eyelids.

  “Time to wake up. Coffee is ready in the kitchen.”

  She blinked and groaned. Morning already? She felt like she hadn’t slept at all. Derek’s lips brushed hers lightly and the memories of last night flooded back. A rush of heat filled her cheeks. Had she really attacked him during the night, climbing onto him and straddling his hips, begging him for her release? Derek smiled down at her.

  “So you do remember?” His fingers slid under the sheets and cupped the curve of her breast, rubbing his thumb over the taut peak of her nipple. White hot lightning seared her, and her body responded without her consent, arching into his hand. “You are no angel,” he teased, running his tongue over her lower lip before thrusting it into her mouth.

  She tried to scoot away from him. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe that I . . .” She chewed at her lower lip, embarrassment still coloring her cheeks.

  “Don’t you dare apologize.”

  He brushed the sheets back from her naked body and his heated gaze stroked her frame as desire flooded her again. This man drove her wild. She couldn’t get enough of him.

  “I would make love to you right now if I had the time,” he growled, pressing his whiskered jaw against her shoulder, kissing the curve of her breast before taking her fully into his mouth.

  “Damn animals,” she agreed, her eyelids heavy as he sucked at the flesh, flicking the nipple with his tongue and sending shivers of delight over her flesh.

  “Mmm, but they need to eat.” He moved over her, his knee between her thighs. His free hand grazed her hip before his finger followed the line of her pelvic bone and hesitated at her inner thigh. His denim-encased thigh brushed against her sex and she moaned.

  “I wasn’t talking about them,” she said, twining her fingers at the back of his head. “I meant us.” Her voice was husky with longing.

  Derek chuckled. “Someone else
can feed.” He slid his finger into her wetness. Her hips bucked against him as his thumb found the spot that drove her crazy.

  She crested the waves of desire, reaching for the moment when the rest of the world ceased to exist. She protested when he moved away from her, kicking off his boots and dropping his jeans to the floor. She heard the rip of foil tearing and he returned, pressing into her in one swift movement.

  A sigh escaped him and he dropped his head backward as she felt him shudder. “You’re like heaven . . . my angel.”

  He leaned forward before rolling onto his side, pulling her with him. They both realized too late that there was no mattress beneath him and fell the short distance to the floor in a tangle of naked arms and legs.

  “Ow! Shit!”

  Derek had broken their fall, landing with his perfectly rounded buttocks on his boots. She burst out laughing as he tossed them aside.

  “Are you all right?” She tried to stop laughing, praying that nothing important was injured.

  Derek glared at her and arched a brow. “You think this is funny?”

  “It’s hilarious.” She giggled, burying her face in his chest.

  He lifted her to straddle his hips and slid her down the length of him. She groaned with pleasure. Nothing broken here.

  Cupping her breasts, Derek took her to new peaks of gratification before joining her in the heights. Afterward, she collapsed onto his chest, praying for the ability to move as his fingers traced the trail of her spine.