Prairie Desire (Cowboys of The Flint Hills #2)

by Tessa Layne

  It wasn’t that far – only about three feet. But if you slipped, it was a twelve-foot drop to the bushes below. Hope had never fallen, although she’d come close on a few occasions.

  Hope backed up to give him space and held her breath. A moment later, he squeezed his frame through the little dormer window and climbed over the window seat. She was suddenly aware of how tiny her room was. Ben positively dwarfed everything.

  Placing his hands on his hips, he surveyed the room. When his eyes finally landed on her, a smile broke across his features. “Holy shit, Hope. What the hell is on your feet?”

  Heat rushed to her face as she looked down at her favorite pair of horsey slippers. “Did you expect me to be wearing fishnets and a bustier?” His mouth twitched at the corners. “I was cold,” she finished lamely. Oh, what was the point in trying to explain?

  Ben’s shoulders shook with laughter. “I love it. And the wall of fame too.” He nodded toward the posters above the bed. “The secret life of Hope Hansen. Horse slippers and country stars.”

  “Shh. You’ll wake my parents. They’re just down the hall.”

  He looked down at her, eyes twinkling. “I promise I’ll be quiet. Are you inviting me in?”

  She rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. “You can put your coat and hat on the puff.”

  “The puff?” he asked skeptically. Then he bent over, surveying her vanity more closely, and glanced back, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I never took you for a princess type.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I think the pink walls and frilly desk say otherwise?”

  “Interior decorating isn’t at the top of my list. It’s possible I went through a princess phase when I was young.”

  Ben’s eyes slowly raked over her, warming her. She wished desperately she was more presentable. She couldn’t imagine she was very attractive in her old terrycloth robe and fuzzy horse slippers.

  “What were you, ten or eleven when that happened?”

  Hope nodded. “Something like that.”

  Ben shot her a grin. “I remember you riding over to the tree house in a tutu and tiara every day one summer.”

  Heat flushed her again. “Oh man.”

  Ben stepped close, forcing her eyes up. “You were adorable. And I’m glad I get to see the secret side of you.”

  She wasn’t so sure about that. She already felt exposed, vulnerable. If he knew all her secrets… he could break her.

  “Why are you here, Ben?”

  His eyes grew serious. “Why do you think? I wanted to see you.”

  “But it’s almost eleven on a Friday night. I’m not interested in a booty call.” Not exactly true. She loved the idea of getting naked with Ben again. But not right under her family’s nose.

  “Is that what you think this is?”

  “You haven’t called, or texted, or basically even acknowledged that I existed, until about five minutes ago. So yeah… I have my suspicions.”

  He motioned to her bed. “Can we sit?”

  “Sure.” She scrambled to the bed and propped herself up in the corner, tucking her legs under her and grabbing a pillow. Ben toed off his boots, placing them next to his coat and hat, and crawled next to her. He leaned against the wall with his feet out in front of him and reached out a hand. “You said you wanted space. Did you change your mind?”

  Without thinking twice, she placed hers in it, allowing him to lace their fingers together. “I didn’t mean treat me like I don’t exist.”

  “I didn’t. I came by, watched you work Buttercup. And you’re amazing with her, by the way,” he added. “And we saw each other at the bonfires.”

  “But you… but you…”

  “Didn’t kiss you goodnight in front of God and everyone? No. I didn’t. Because you asked me not to.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “You can’t get angry when I’m giving you the very thing you told me you wanted.”

  Dammit. She hated it when he made sense. She fiddled with the fringe on her pillow, unsure of what to say.

  “Give me your foot, Hope.”

  Her eyes darted to his, and she caught her breath. His eyes held a hungry light that only meant one thing. This was totally a booty call. Heat pooled between her legs, and she squirmed as she unfolded a leg and offered him a fuzzy horse-clad foot. He took her ankle firmly and slid off the slipper. The movement set her ears buzzing, and Ben resettled himself to place her foot in his lap. If she stretched, she could rub him. Keeping that thought in mind, she settled back and shut her eyes, focusing on the sensation of his warm, strong hands releasing the knots in her foot.

  “God, that feels good,” she moaned.

  “You painted your toes.”

  Her eyes flew open, and she tried to withdraw her foot.

  Ben flashed her an amused smile and squeezed, keeping her foot in place. “I like it. Another secret, princessy part of you.”

  Okay, so maybe she was a bit of a princess. But only where her toes and body wash were concerned. She had no use for fingernail polish or anything else impractical. “No one sees my toes except me.”

  “And now me. I like it that way.” He leaned over to plant a kiss on the inside of her ankle. A bolt of awareness shot right up her leg. Holy smokes. Since when did her ankle have a direct line to her pussy?

  She gasped and giggled. “Don’t get any ideas. Nail polish is cheap. You’ll never find me in lacy underwear.”

  “I don’t give a shit about your underwear. I prefer you out of it.” Ben’s eyes bored into her, setting a fire alight in her belly. His hand stretched up her calf, massaging and caressing, then coming back to work the arch of her foot.

  Hope shifted, stretching her other foot out. Ben’s hands were magic. No doubt about it. And not just for getting the knots in her feet out. “So this is a booty call,” she teased.

  He shook his head. “Nope. A booty call implies I’m not interested in you.” He dropped her foot into his lap and slipped off her other slipper, beginning the same ministrations on her other foot. This time, he kissed the arch of her foot, letting his tongue flick over the spot. She flinched at the startling sensation, even as his tongue sent another shot of lust up her leg. “And for the record, Hope,” Ben paused, his eyes intent. “I’m very interested in you.”

  Ben’s admission set Hope’s heart racing like a stampede of wild horses. “Yeah?” She hated how breathless and exited her voice sounded. She couldn’t let Ben wreak havoc with her emotions again. Loving him came at too high a price.

  His hands continued to work his way up her legs. Massaging, releasing. And with each stroke, her resolve weakened. No one made her feel like Ben did.

  “Shall I show you how much?” This time he placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh.

  The anticipation was killing her. How could her limbs be simultaneously languid and trembling? She let her knees fall open, inviting him to nuzzle higher.

  “So sweet, so beautiful,” he murmured, lips buzzing against her sensitized skin.

  Talk about charming her out of her clothes. She had zero resistance where Ben was concerned. As the last of her defenses crumbled, she reached for the knot at her waist that held her robe closed.

  She’d never had a boy in her room. Ever. And now she was fooling around on her bed with a powerfully sexy man who’d played a starring role in most of her teenage fantasies. There was no denying Ben had sex appeal. In spades. With just a few well-placed kisses and words, he’d turned her to putty. Made her feel reckless, wanton. “Ben.” His name came out more like a plea than she meant. But she couldn’t help herself. She wanted him.

  Badly.

  He swooped up and covered her mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue darted into her mouth, exploring, curling against hers, and demanding she join him in this most ancient of dances. How could she not? She’d never said ‘no’ to Ben. She never could.

  Sighing, she twined her hands around his neck, hips arching to connect with his, seeking to relieve the potent ache that built between
her legs. Reaching for his jeans, she fiddled with the belt, hands trembling. “In the drawer,” she panted between kisses. “Condoms are in the drawer.”

  He groaned into her mouth, and she dimly registered the sound of the drawer opening, missing his hand on her body as he blindly felt for – oh shit. She pushed against his chest as she tried to sit up, but she was too late.

  Ben suddenly raised up, her vibrator in hand, surprise and laughter etched across his face. “What in the hell is this?”

  CHAPTER 15

  “I think it’s commonly called a vibrator.” Her voice was breathy and laughing. He’d struck gold. This was fucking brilliant. A woman who explored her own sexuality. The implications stretched out in front of him like jewels on a rope. “This a rabbit?”

  Hope struggled under him, giggling nervously and turning the prettiest shade of pink. As pink as her gaudy walls.

  “Do you like it?” God, he’d never had a conversation like this in his life, but he was definitely curious.

  She nodded. “Yeah… but it’s… it’s…” She wouldn’t look at him. Finally, she raised her eyes, a challenging light entering them. “I’d rather have a cock.”

  If he’d been standing, a feather could have knocked him over. Instead, her confession acted like a wildfire in his body. His cock couldn’t get any harder. “Why not hold out for the goods then?” He ground into her hips for emphasis.

  She let out a breathy laugh, her hand straying up to the base of his neck. “Because sometimes I just can’t take it.”

  “Take what, Hope? Tell me.” Something in him stilled in hopeful anticipation. He drew his hand from the dip at her waist, trailing his fingers to her collarbone, eliciting a little delighted sigh from her. And an answering roll of her hips.

  Her tongue flicked out to wet her lower lip. She was close to panting. “The ache. And my hand’s not enough.”

  Fuck, this was hot.

  “You use your hand?” The visual of her fingers dipping deep into her slick folds sent a bolt of lust to his balls, increasing the tension already building there.

  Her eyes flashed frustration. “Don’t tell me you don’t use your hand to take the edge off?” Her voice was filled with arousal and impatience.

  “Of course I do, I’m a dude.”

  “So sometimes the toys are better.” Her hips were undulating under him as her agitation grew.

  “Toys? With an ’s’? As in more than one?” He grinned down at her and planted a hot, wet kiss at the juncture of neck and shoulder. She hissed out a breath she’d been holding. But now his curiosity was peaked, and he leaned over, pulling the drawer wider so he could see inside.

  Holy shit. She wasn’t joking. She had toys. A second cock-sized vibrator, a tube of lube, a small lipstick sized vibrator, and… holy shit… a bag of mini vibrators that looked like rings? “Jesus. You are a kinky thing, aren’t you?” He grabbed the bag and ripped it open, placing one on his middle finger.

  “There’s nothing kinky about sex toys,” she panted.

  He nuzzled his way from the underside of her breast to the soft swell of her belly, just below her navel, tongue flicking over her heated skin. “If you say so.”

  He gently pushed on her knee, opening her silky, muscular thighs a little wider. With his first finger, he found her slit and stroked up, testing. Jesus, she was slick and hot. “How does this work?” He examined the ring, and found the discreet ‘on’ button. Bringing the tiny vibrator to her folds, he slowly stroked up and circled her clit. Her hips bucked and she bit her lip to keep from crying out, her face the sweetest picture of ecstasy and agony. He circled her clit again and then pulled away, leaving her panting.

  She raised her head, eyes lust-glazed. “Touch me like that again and I’m going to come.”

  Shit.

  He hadn’t even gotten started. A low chuckle rumbled in his gut, and he gave her a slow smile. “We can’t have that. That’d spoil my fun.”

  She hitched up onto her elbows. “Fine then, let me have a turn. Hand me the bag.” Ben obliged, and she took out a ring, placing it on the tip of her finger. She speared him with a look so hot, he felt his bones would turn to ash. “Take off your pants.” Her voice was laced with barely restrained hunger and a little thrill spiraled down his spine.

  He laughed low again. “You like it when I strip for you, don’t you?”

  Her answer was a carnal light in her eyes and a lick of her lips. Hell, yeah. Who’d have thunk his sweet Hope would absolutely let go in bed? For a split moment, the Universe opened wide and he saw himself making fierce love to her in ten, twenty years. The flash shook him to his core.

  Rising to his feet so she couldn’t see how deeply the picture had rattled him, he gave a roll of his hips and slowly unbuttoned his jeans.

  She bit her lip, eyes gleaming. “You teasing me?”

  Ben gave another roll of his hips and slowly unbuttoned his fly. “Just prolonging the inevitable, love. You look as delectable as a peach all warm and flushed.”

  Her eyes lit hungrily at his declaration. He hadn’t meant to say ‘love’. It had just slipped out. But he was too far gone in their game to worry about it now.

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she cocked her chin. “C’mon, Sinclaire. Show me.”

  Fine. She wanted a striptease? He was going to give her that. He turned his back to her and rolled his hips once more before dropping his garments and kicking them across the narrow room. He risked a glance over his shoulder. She was shaking in laughter. He rolled his hips again, then offered his best move, making sure to squeeze first one butt cheek, then the other.

  Hope erupted in giggles which she quickly stifled. “Oh God. My parents better be asleep. We are going to get in trou-ble.” She drew out the last word, her voice still filled with laughter.

  Adopting his best Elvis drawl, he answered. “I only wan’ trouble with you, darlin’.”

  He was rewarded with another burst of giggles. “Then turn around. Show me the money.”

  He glanced back again. Hope’s face was flushed, eyes bright with laughter. He loved her like this. “You switching movies on me?”

  She held his gaze. “Whatever it takes. Turn around.”

  “As you wish.” He threw in a few Hercules arm flexes as he turned, fully facing her, his cock at full mast, hard and ready.

  Her quick intake of breath changed everything in a heartbeat, shifting from lighthearted to hot and heavy.

  Naked desire played across Hope’s face. “Come here,” she commanded, sitting up and shedding her hideous robe from her shoulders. She swung her legs off the bed and sat before him, eyes never leaving his cock.

  He stepped forward, his cock a finger width from her mouth. She glanced up at him through hooded eyes, a slow grin lighting her up. She raised an eyebrow as she brought a hand to his shaft.

  Ben locked his knees as her hand encased him and pulled slowly and firmly up to his head, already slicked with pre-come. Raising an eyebrow, she bent and flicked her tongue across his slit, then around the head, lapping up the liquid. His hand shot out to her head grasping for balance. God, what he wouldn’t give to undo her braids and drive his fingers through her strawberry hair.

  He released a guttural noise and shut his eyes, focusing all his attention on the sensations surrounding his cock. “Fuck, Hope. That’s amazing.”

  She hummed in the back of her throat, sending electricity down his rigid shaft. He dimly registered the sound of the vibrator on her finger being turned on. When the sensation hit the sensitive spot behind his balls, the nearly blacked out.

  “Jesus, fuck, Hope.”

  She stopped her licking and gazed up at him, a triumphant glimmer in her eye. “Like that?”

  “Fuck. What do you think?” He could barely focus.

  She squeezed the base of his cock while her vibrator finger kept moving in tiny circles behind his balls. Then she bent lower and slowly lapped up his length, taking him in her mouth and sucking.

>   He cried out. He couldn’t help it. She was torturing him in the most amazing way.

  “Shhhhh.”

  “I can’t help it.” His breath started to come in short pants. “I swear to God, Hope.”

  His balls tightened as his orgasm began to wind its way up the back of his thighs, swirling higher and higher.

  “Okay, stop.” He pushed her away and turned, bending over his knees, panting. He’d managed not to come, but he was absolutely shattered.

  He looked back at Hope, trying like hell to bring his breathing back to normal. She leaned back on the bed, grinning like the damned Cheshire Cat.

  “You think that’s funny? You’ll pay.”

  She responded with an even bigger grin and a raise of her brows. “What do you have in mind, cowboy?”

  “Stand up.”

  She slowly stood, keeping her eyes glued on him, and pressed herself against him, shoulder to knees. He snaked his arms around her, running his hands down her spine and cupping her ass, pressing her sex against his. She stood on tiptoe running her slick folds against his length.

  Holy fuck. It would be a miracle if he didn’t shoot off his rocks before he got inside her. He stepped forward, pushing her back to the bed.

  She shook her head, a breathy laugh escaping. “Are you nuts? Too much noise?”

  “The floor then,” he grumbled. An idea formed. “Grab a pillow.”

  She stepped away, and he felt her loss. She tossed the pillow to the floor, then reached into her drawer to grab a condom, tossing it to him. His fingers shook as he tore the wrapper and he sheathed himself. “On your knees.”

  She sank to the floor, giving him a sly look. “Like this?”

  “Turn around,” he grunted. “Elbows on the pillow.”

  She rolled her lips together in anticipation, giving him a look that was so hot, his cock grew even harder. Slowly bending, she placed her forearms on the pillow, wiggled her ass, and spread her knees wide, exposing her pink, swollen pussy. She flipped her braids as she looked back over her shoulder, a wicked light in her eye. “Like this?” She wiggled her ass again for emphasis.