The Cowboy and the Angel

by T. J. Kline

  “Angel,” he whispered, curling his fingers at her neck and pulling her down so their lips met, “I’m not going to kill myself.”

  He tried to contain his passion, to kiss her gently, reminding her of their night together, of the shared vulnerability and how they had complemented one another, but once their lips met he couldn’t suppress the longing he felt for her. His tongue swept into her mouth, dancing with hers, igniting a fire within him.

  ANGELA HADN’T EXPECTED his kiss, although she hadn’t thought about much else since their night together. She’d wanted to explain why she couldn’t stay on the ranch, but once his lips touched hers, all logic and reason was lost. She could barely remember her name as his good arm pulled her against his chest, trapping her arm between them with her free hand on his stomach. She desperately wanted to touch him but was afraid of hurting him. He groaned and shifted, rising above her, leaning on his elbow, and she worried about his ribs. His right hand found her hip and he gripped her, his thumb trailing under the hem of her shirt.

  “You’re hurt,” she reminded him.

  Derek slid his hips between her thighs and pressed kisses along her jaw. She felt his arousal pressing against her thigh. He gave her a rakish grin and ran his tongue over her lower lip. “I’m just fine, obviously.

  “Angel, the other night,” he began as he pressed kisses down the side of her neck. His hands slipped under her shirt, his palm spanning her stomach, burning her skin with the intensity of his heat. “I’m sorry if I pressured you.”

  She cupped his face in her hands. “You didn’t.” She shook her head. “We didn’t do anything I wasn’t ready for.” His fingers slid over the lower edge of her bra and she gasped as lightning flickered over her skin, igniting the tinder of her emotions.

  “And what about now?” He looked down at her while his thumb continued to trace tantalizing lines of fire over her flesh, chasing away any fear or worry about the future.

  “I need you, Derek,” she whispered.

  She wasn’t sure she could stay and watch him put himself in harm’s way, wasn’t sure if her heart could stand to see him hurt, or worse. But she was certain that she couldn’t walk away from him, not tonight. Not when she could see the desire in his eyes or hear the passion making his voice husky. Not when his hands were scorching her flesh with his desire. Silvie’s words came back to her. Derek was one of the good ones worth fighting for.

  She arched, her back curving to press her breasts against his seeking fingers, and he slid the shirt up her sides. She pulled it over her head and threw it aside as he unsnapped the closure of the bra with one hand.

  “Talented,” she teased.

  “I try.” When she was exposed, she watched his eyes light up with reverence. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” His lips found the skin of her stomach before he laid his cheek against her heated flesh.

  She wanted to argue with him, to point out the ugliness she felt inside, the pain and bitterness and betrayal, but even when she showed him a glimpse, he brushed it aside. He made her feel beautiful and cherished and loved. She pushed the thought away. He couldn’t possibly love her, not after the way she’d abandoned him. Even if he didn’t love her, she loved him. She blinked back her tears as his lips kissed the curve of her breast, his tongue blazing a trail over the tight nipple.

  Her fingers curled against his neck as she pulled his head toward her, needing to feel his lips, to lose herself in his strength. Derek had far more than she’d ever hoped to find in a man: goodness and strength and loyalty. All things her father had never been for her or her mother, and he offered it all to her with complete disregard to himself. He had no idea how broken she felt, how helpless to let go of her need for control, or how courageous he made her feel, willing to love him in spite of her fears.

  She clutched at his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh, desperate to touch him. Reciprocating her need to touch and be touched, he pulled away from her long enough to grab the back of his t-shirt, pull it over his head, and throw it aside. She almost sighed as her fingers slid over his skin, the ridges of every muscle taut under her hands. Angela whispered his name as his hands fondled her, his lips and teeth nibbling at the sensitive flesh of her neck and collarbone.

  The metal of his belt buckle pressed into her hip painfully but she didn’t care; it was a reminder of the pain she had caused him. She wanted to stay with him. The word forever floated though her mind like mist on a spring morning. She brushed it aside, unsure if they could have a “forever.” He would continue supporting his family, and, thanks to Mike, she was no longer responsible for the man she’d been raised to think was her father, since he was attempting to stand on his own two feet.

  Her future had suddenly become uncertain. She was free to go where she wanted, do what she wanted, with no one to worry about but herself. She felt the desperation that had clung to her heels for so many years lose its grip.

  “What are you thinking about?” Derek asked, looking down at her. “You’re here, but you’re not here.”

  A smile spread over her lips. For the first time in her life, she was exactly where she wanted to be: in the arms of a man who cared about her, free to pursue her career without the weight of her father’s mistakes hanging over her head and threatening her. She trailed her finger down his chest, her hand lighting on his uninjured ribs.

  “I’m thinking about how quickly you seem to heal.” She leaned forward, her lips meeting his in a kiss that warmed her to her toes.

  “You’re lying,” he murmured against the base of her throat. “But if it puts that smile on your face . . .” He slid his hand to the button of her jeans. “I can think of a few other things that might make you smile,” he said, tugging at the material.

  She laughed as he tried to unbutton them with one hand. “Not so talented now. Need some help, cowboy?”

  She popped the button loose and unzipped them. Derek brushed her hands away, sliding his one hand over her hip bone and between the material and the lace underwear she wore, his fingers curling into the muscle of her rear. He groaned deep in his throat, and his shoulders shook as he pressed her hips against his, sliding her jeans over her thighs. She heard his quick inhale and realized the movement must have hurt his ribs.

  “Wait.” She slid from under him carefully and instructed him to sit on the edge of the bed. “Let me help.”

  She wiggled out of her pants, watching his eyes darken with desire as she removed her clothing for him, making her feel powerful and feminine at the same time. It was an alien feeling, and she doubted that anyone but Derek could have made her feel this way. She kneeled between his thighs and reached for his buckle, pressing a kiss to his chest and feeling the muscles contract beneath her lips. She pulled the buckle and unbuttoned his pants, removing his boots and encouraging him to stand so she could remove his jeans and underwear. She was careful of the massive bruise on his thigh where he’d been hit by the bull’s skull. He stood in front of her in his naked glory and she couldn’t help but stare at him, his desire for her evident. Dear God, this man is magnificent.

  He gave her a lopsided smile. “You have more clothes on than I do.” His eyes flicked to her lacy panties. They covered next to nothing. “Enough games, Angel.” He wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her against the hard wall of his chest. “I’m in pain and it has nothing to do with my ribs.”

  He backed her toward the bed until her legs hit the edge and lowered her onto the mattress, kneeling before her. His fingers found her breasts, teasing them into tight peaks, and she bit her lower lip to keep from crying out as desire and delicious pain swirled within her. His hand slid up her calf, tickling the sensitive flesh behind her knee before he kissed her inner thigh. His hands skimmed over her thighs to her hips, his fingers hooking on the edge of the thin lace before pulling it down her legs.

  His breath was hot against her, fanning over the most intimate recess of her. She gasped as his mouth found her, his finge
rs creating a storm within her that raged out of control.

  “Derek, wait,” she panted, pleading with him, her fingers digging into the blankets on the bed.

  “This is what you do to me, Angel. This is how I feel.” He continued his tender assault on her, his tongue flicking, his fingers devastating her senses. She knew she had lost control of her response to this man as she plunged into the oblivion of ecstasy, her release washing over her as she trembled. Derek stood, reaching into the table beside the bed before lying on the bed beside her.

  He allowed his finger to trail between her breasts, and she shivered, goose bumps breaking out over her heated flesh as she tried to slow her breathing. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Angel.”

  She felt the blush creep over her body, flooding her cheeks, but she couldn’t deny her pleasure at knowing he found her beautiful. She bit her lower lip, wondering if he realized how deeply she felt for him, or that he had somehow slipped past the massive wall that had been built around her heart the day her mother died. She loved him. There was no use denying it, hiding it, or pretending it wasn’t true. This was more than desire.

  She wouldn’t ask him for more than he’d already offered her, nor could she speak the words to him. But she could open her heart to him in an attempt to show him. Wherever that led, she vowed she would follow, even if that meant pain or loss.

  She pressed her lips against his chest, curling her arm around his waist. “I need you,” she whispered against him. It was as close as she could admit to him right now.

  Derek looked down at her and kissed her forehead, her eyelids, and the tip of her nose before taking her lips hostage. He moved away only long enough to tear the foil package and roll onto his back, placing the condom over himself. She took the opportunity to carefully swing her leg over his hip, straddling him.

  His eyes closed and he moaned as she touched him, feeling the hard strength in every part of his body.

  “Woman, you are evil,” he ground out. He guided her, arching his hips, slowly impaling her on his shaft.

  Her head fell back with the pleasure of it. He rocked against her as she rode him, her nails digging into his left side as she tried to be careful of the injuries on his right. Derek’s hand snuck into her hair as he pulled her down to ravish her mouth with his tongue. She leaned over him, her hair forming a curtain, hiding them from the world, creating a place of privacy where only their ravenous need for one another existed.

  As they found their release together, she collapsed on his chest. He inhaled sharply and she scrambled to move off of him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Angel, don’t you move,” he ordered, holding her against him. “My ribs will never hurt so badly that I want you to move.” He kissed her, the touch gentle and languid.

  She tucked her head under his jaw, inhaling his unique scent, and then heard her phone ringing in her room.

  “Do you want to get it?” he asked.

  “I don’t ever want to move.”

  “Good.” His hand trailed over her spine lightly. She felt herself relaxing in his arms, dozing in and out of consciousness, feeling completely safe. “Angel?”

  “Hmmm?” She tried to open her eyes, but exhaustion won over her will to relish every moment in his arms.

  “Are you leaving?” She thought she shrugged her shoulders, but she wasn’t sure. “I’d like you to stay,” he clarified. “I think I love you.”

  “Mmm,” she murmured and curled one arm around his neck. “I love you, too,” she whispered just before sleep completely claimed her.

  “I DON’T KNOW what she’s planning to do, Joe.” Robert had always tolerated Joe, but the demanding questions and details about his daughter’s plans were getting aggravating. He was beginning to hate how this cell phone gave Joe instant access to reach him. “She’s a grown woman. I don’t have the right to demand anything from her.”

  “When I suggested you tell her the truth, you were supposed to tell her to come back here,” the voice in the phone growled. “Are you trying to ruin everything?”

  “She deserved to know the truth, and I know you don’t agree, but she deserves to be happy. I think Derek Chandler is the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”

  “You’ve been drunk most of her life. You don’t know her or what she needs.” Joe’s voice had taken on a note of frantic desperation. “Are you sure she’s even there? She’s not answering her phone.”

  Robert didn’t need the reminder about what a poor excuse of a father he’d been, and it only served to make him dislike Joe a bit more. “She’s in the house. When I see her, I’ll tell her to call you.”

  He considered deliberately forgetting about the message, but the longer Angela remained away from the news desk, the more burdensome and demanding Joe was becoming. This was beginning to border on obsessiveness.

  “Don’t bother. Did you put that vial into the refrigerator in the barn Angela told me about?”

  Robert thought about the vial Joe had given him at the rodeo and decided in that instant to give it to Mike instead. He might have known Joe longer, but Mike had earned his loyalty. The way Joe had been acting was starting to worry him.

  “Sure,” he lied. “But I don’t know why . . .” The call disconnected in his ear.

  Robert tossed the pitchfork into the wheelbarrow. He pushed the tools into the corner of the barn, near the bales of straw piled almost to the ceiling. He didn’t want to think about Joe, but something in his voice sounded off—more irate than this situation should warrant. He needed to find Mike and let him know about what Joe was planning and how he’d asked him to plant drugs on the premises to frame them.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING dawned bright, but Derek didn’t mind the sunlight filtering through the blinds. He’d been dreaming about waking with his Angel in his arms since their first night together at the rodeo. Jen and Sydney’s voice carried from the kitchen, sprinkled with giggles from one of the babies. He wondered if he and Angela would still come over to have breakfast with everyone once his house was finished. Derek stopped mid-thought. He knew he thought of Angela as his, but there wasn’t any sort of permanence to their relationship.

  There could be.

  He curled around her back, his legs curving around her rear. Derek hardened as he kissed the back of her neck. He’d told her he loved her last night and she’d said the same. Why shouldn’t they make it permanent?

  The smell of her tempted him, tantalizing his senses and making him want to fill himself with her. He inhaled deeply, memorizing the mixture of vanilla, peaches, and sunshine that was uniquely his Angel. He brushed his thumb across her breast, smiling against her skin as the nipple tightened to a peak. She sighed, arching her back as she stretched, waking slowly.

  “Time for breakfast, and it smells like Silvie has the coffee brewing for you,” he pointed out, knowing how she hated mornings. He kissed the arc between her shoulder and her neck and chuckled as goose bumps broke out over her skin. “Cold?”

  “Not exactly.” She rolled over, their legs twining, and he knew she could feel his arousal against her. She kissed his chin before flicking her tongue to lick the rasp of his jaw.

  “Evil Angel,” he growled, rolling so she lay beneath him. “I have to work today.”

  Her brow furrowed. “But your ribs . . .”

  “I’m fine,” he assured her, ignoring the twinge of pain that came with every breath. “There is plenty to do that won’t require physical work. I’ll call the contractor out to work on the house more since I’ll have time to meet him out there now.” He pressed his lips to hers quickly as his stomach growled loudly, and he climbed off the bed. “Feed me.”

  He pulled on the jeans he’d tossed to the floor the evening before and turned to look at her still twisted in the sheet. It was far more see-through than she realized, and she presented a tantalizing picture. He considered climbing back into the bed with her when he heard a doo
r slam downstairs and his brother’s voice. Derek sighed. Time to get to work.

  “Should I ask Sydney or Jen to bring you up something?”

  She glared at him and he laughed. “I’m getting up,” she groused, pulling the sheet so that she could wrap it around her body as she searched for her clothes. “I hate morning people,” she grumbled.

  “You’re so cute when you’re grouchy in the mornings.” He laid her bra and shirt on the edge of the bed. “Would you like me to get you some clothes from your room? Or I could cover the hall for you while you sneak in there?”

  She shot wide eyes toward him. “You don’t think they know, do you?”

  He laughed. “Of course they do.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “You aren’t exactly quiet.”

  She couldn’t have stopped the adorable blush that flooded her cheeks if she’d tried. He pulled a clean t-shirt over his head and pulled her into his arms, his hands at her hips, and kissed her thoroughly. “You have the look of a woman who’s been completely satisfied.”

  Angela frowned, her lips forming a thin line of disapproval. “Watch the hall and make sure no one comes.” She clutched her clothing to her chest.

  The knock at the door froze her mid-step, and she stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. “Derek, can you tell Angie that there’s a news van coming down the driveway?”

  Her blush returned. “I’ll do that,” he called back.

  The furrow on her brow deepened. “They already think I’m using you.”

  “Are you?” he asked, getting right to the heart of the matter.

  She lifted her chin defiantly, but he could see the hurt in her eyes. “Do you really need to ask me that?”

  Derek waited until the footsteps receded from the hall. “I thought Skip went back to the station.”

  “I have no idea who it could be. Or why they are back.”