Prairie Desire (Cowboys of The Flint Hills #2)

by Tessa Layne

  “I’ll help you,” Ben muttered in agreement.

  Hope’s brothers rounded the corner, carrying cigars and glasses of booze. Given the hosts, it was probably Irish Whiskey.

  “What do you want?” he growled.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Skedaddle, sissy.” Axel puffed on the cigar. “We need to talk to Ben. Man to man.”

  Hope stiffened beside him. “Like hell I will,” she shot back. “Anything you want to say to Ben, you can say to me.”

  Good for her. Ben loved the way she never cut her brothers any slack. They were good guys, but some days, Ben wanted to shake sense into them. Other days, like now, he wanted to pound the shit out of them.

  “It’s all right, Hope. I’ll talk to them.” But not before he gave her one last kiss. He let his mouth linger over hers and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He’d be damned if he let her brothers push him around. “I’ll be in shortly.” Hope slipped around the corner, and he turned to face Axel and Gunnar, hands on his hips. “What in the hell is this about?”

  “Whiskey?” Gunnar offered Ben his glass.

  Ben took it and emptied the glass in one swallow. No smoke on the finish. Definitely Irish Whiskey.

  “Cigar?” Axel offered.

  Ben shook his head once. “Say your piece. I’d like to get back to my date.”

  “You mean our sister,” Axel corrected.

  “I don’t care if she’s the Virgin fucking Mary. Hope is my date, and I won’t leave my date hanging.”

  “Easy, bro,” Gunnar raised his hands, placating. “We just want to know what your intentions are. That’s all.”

  “My intentions? Like I said before, that depends entirely on Hope. I intend to support her and be there for her. No matter what.”

  Axel made a scoffing noise.

  “You have a problem with that?” He glared at the brothers. “Either of you?”

  Gunnar shook his head. “No…no. Not at all. But Hope needs a strong hand. Someone who’s not gong to wuss out when she gets a bee in her bonnet.”

  Ben ground his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. “Are you kidding me?” He answered through a clenched jaw. “There’s a difference between offering support and ‘wussing out’.”

  “Well, you have a reputation of being a real nice guy. So we want to make sure we’re on the same page regarding Hope.”

  “And what page was that?” Never in Ben’s life had he wanted to clean the floor with another human. But right now, in this moment. He was ready to crack skulls and come back for seconds.

  Axel took a long puff on the cigar, followed by a sip of whiskey. “You know. She needs someone who’ll be a little bit of a caveman. Show her who’s boss.”

  “You two married?”

  “What you driving at Sinclaire?”

  “Answer me,” he growled. “Either of you married?”

  “You know the answer,” Gunnar spoke up.

  “Either of you have a girl?”

  Gunnar and Axel exchanged a glance. “Nope. Footloose and fancy free.”

  “How’s that caveman advice worked for you?” At least Hope’s brothers looked a little uncomfortable.

  Gunnar cleared his throat. “Hope’s headstrong. She needs a firm hand.”

  “What she needs, is space to figure things out for herself.” Ben’s fist twitched. He’d never come close to hitting another person. Ever. Tonight might change all that. “Let me ask you this,” he changed tactics. “You’re horsemen. Good horsemen. Would you ever use a firm hand on a high strung horse with a tendency to spook?”

  Gunnar puffed his cigar thoughtfully. “Hell no. You nuts? Surefire way to ruin an animal.”

  Ben had them now. He closed in for the final one-two. “So you’re telling me, you’d treat a horse better than your own sister?”

  Gunnar stiffened. Axel’s hands tightened around his glass. “Be careful what you’re suggesting there, Sinclaire.”

  “No.” Ben answered harshly. “You be careful, and listen good. I’ve never needed to settle disagreements with my fists, like the rest of you. But mistreat your sister, and you’ll answer to me.” He held up a clenched fist to make his point. “And my fist. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He stepped around the brothers and stalked back around the building to the party. He needed a stiff drink. Passing through the patio, he decided to go around back to the kitchen. He needed an extra minute to cool off.

  No wonder Hope didn’t want to work at Hansen Stables. There was no future for her there. At least not a satisfying one. Maybe it was time to introduce Hope to Cavenaugh. Cavenaugh had come to Ben in the past for help in recruiting top-notch students into the veterinary program at K-State. At least he could help Hope her keep her options open. Ben stepped through the back door and into the kitchen. The island was covered with beverages.

  Ben scooped some ice into a glass and poured a healthy measure of whiskey. His brothers were scotch men through and through. He couldn’t care less. He was more of a beer man himself. Wine with a fancy meal. Liquor was liquor as far as he was concerned. And at the moment, he was more concerned about finding Hope.

  He didn’t have far to go. Ben spotted her as soon as he stepped into the great room. She stood off to the side, holding a new champagne flute, and talking to none other than Cavenaugh. Perfect. He wove through the crowd, and brought his arm to her waist as he stepped close, placing a kiss on her cheek.

  “Good to see you, Cavenaugh. I see you’ve met my lady?”

  “Yes I have. Hope and I were just discussing her work training Mustangs.” Robert Cavenaugh was a good looking man, late forties, but very little grey, and a giant in veterinary Medicine.

  “Hope, Cav is a friend of Blake’s and mine. He’s dean of the veterinary school at K-State. He’s a specialist in disease transmission among hoofed animals.”

  Hope’s eyes grew wide and her smile faltered a fraction. “How interesting.”

  Cav laughed. “Not very. Only for research geeks like myself. Much more interesting talking about the newest gentling methods.”

  Ben’s arm tightened around Hope. “Did Hope mention she nearly finished vet school herself?”

  Cav’s eyes lit up. “Really? Where were you?”

  Hope stiffened, and a muscle in her cheek twitched. Once, twice. “I studied at the University of Kentucky.” She took a gulp of champagne. “But I decided it wasn’t a good fit.”

  “Kentucky. That’s Michael Sherman’s program, isn’t it?”

  Hope looked downright panicked at the mention of the man’s name. What in the hell was going on? He leaned into her. “You okay?”

  Hope nodded. Whether in answer to his question or to Cav, he couldn’t tell.

  Cav went on. “We’d love to have someone like you at K-State. Have you ever given thought to finishing?”

  Hope offered a small smile. “Not at the moment. I’m enjoying being in the training ring again.”

  Cav pressed her. “How many semesters did you complete?”

  Hope’s fingers clutched the champagne glass so tightly, her knuckles were white. “Six.”

  Cav looked taken aback. “You quit before the easiest part.”

  Hope’s face filled with regret. “Yeah. I did.” She lifted a shoulder. “Like I said, it wasn’t a good fit. I… I found I liked training more.”

  Why was she selling herself short like this? “Hope would easily become your star student, Cav. She’s worked with horses her entire life, and started apprenticing with Prairie’s vet, Dr. Lindsay, before she was fifteen.”

  Cav grinned. “If Ben vouches for you, that’s all I need to know. He’s helped me recruit some of my most successful students.”

  Two spots of pink darkened Hope’s cheeks. “I’m not–”

  “You don’t have to say yes tonight, but I think you should consider finishing out at K-State.” Cav took a bite of pie as his offer sunk in. “Forgive me for being a shameless recruit at a party, but someone like you would be an asset to o
ur program and give us new avenues to explore in terms of how we relate to animals in the field.”

  Hope smiled regretfully. “I really–”

  Cav raised his hand. “Hear me out. You’d have to repeat your third year, but it would be a piece of cake for you. And I have it on good authority there’s a fellowship opening up next fall. You’d be the perfect candidate. At least tell me you’ll think about it.”

  For a split second, Ben saw panic in Hope’s eyes, but then it was gone, and her face remained calm. “I… I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

  Ben’s spirits lifted. She’d see. Once she got back into a program, she’d find her mojo. And Manhattan was an easy commute up the road.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Stay there.” Ben hopped out of the truck and walked around to open her door.

  Always the gentleman. Hope’s stomach fluttered nervously, making it hard to breathe evenly. Ben had borrowed Brodie’s truck and whisked her away from the Thanksgiving party as soon as the toasts to Jamey and Brodie had been offered. It couldn’t have happened soon enough, as far as she was concerned. Between avoiding her brothers and Robert Cavenaugh, she’d been dancing on eggshells all evening.

  Ben opened the door, braced an arm on the cab, and opened his hand. When she met his eyes, the guilt she’d been dodging all evening pressed down on her. How could she tell him? How could she not? She felt like a rabbit caught in a snare. And the more she tried to break free, the tighter the ropes became.

  Forcing herself to smile, she took his hand and slid out of the truck, right into his arms. Body flush against his. His arm snaked around her back, keeping her where she was. This time her smile was genuine. “You planned that, didn’t you?”

  He tipped back his Stetson and dipped his head, breath tickling her ear. “Can’t blame me for wanting to feel you against me.”

  She tilted her chin and nipped at his lower lip. In her heels, she stood nearly eye-level with Ben. She liked it. Liked how she could see his eyes change from sweet to smoldering in a heartbeat.

  Ben’s arm tightened as he made a noise in the back of his throat and claimed her mouth. This wasn’t a frantic kiss squeezed into a stolen moment, rather the slow, purposeful perusal born from time. As his tongue swept against hers, she melted into him, letting him support their weight.

  For the moment, she let her mind go blank, letting go of everything except the sensation of being wrapped in Ben’s arms, surrounded by his essence. His scent filled her, warming her to her toes. His hands skimmed her hips and settled low, cupping her ass and pressing her closer.

  “Mmmm. I could kiss you all night,” she murmured when they finally broke apart.

  “I wouldn’t object. But we should move inside.” In one movement, he swept her up into his arms, kicked shut the door, and started for the door to his bunkhouse.

  “Ben,” she squealed, burying a laugh in his neck. “Put me down.”

  “Can’t let you risk spraining an ankle in those things.”

  Another burst of laughter escaped her. “I’m fine.”

  “All part of my daring plan to woo you, woman. Stop squirming.” He paused at the door long enough to twist the handle and push it open with his boot.

  “Wait.” She could hardly speak from laughing. “You’re wooing me?” Maybe she’d had too much champagne, but the thought of Ben wooing her triggered another wave of giggles.

  Ben rolled his eyes and snorted, walking them into the dim interior and kicking the door shut behind them. A lone lamp by the big leather couch bathed the room in a golden glow.

  Hope loved Ben’s space. Even though he’d only been living in the bunkhouse since spring, he’d made it feel… homey. And very masculine. In the corner by the entrance to the kitchen stood a small table and chairs, but the dominating feature was the large leather couch in front of the fireplace.

  He scanned the room. “Hmm. Couch or bed?”

  “Couch. Turn on the fireplace?” The first night she’d spent here, she’d been surprised to discover Ben had retrofitted the stone fireplace with gas. There were benefits to modern conveniences, instant atmosphere being one of them.

  He carried her the short distance to the fireplace and set her down, keeping his arm around her as he reached for the switch to turn on the fireplace. It ignited with a whoosh. Just like her body did when Ben stared at her.

  “Now, where were we?” He lifted her hair and placed a soft kiss at the juncture of neck and collarbone. His breath heated her skin, sending a riot of goose bumps fanning out across her torso.

  His hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers gently massaging the muscles at her nape. She should broach the subject now. While he was sweet-talking her. Her stomach dropped at the thought. It would kill the mood, and it was Thanksgiving. And Ben was seducing her, trailing hot kisses up her neck and across her jaw, making her pussy ache and her nipples tingle with need. She wanted his hands on her, wanted to forget everything except their loving.

  His hands were at her back, searching and finding the zipper. He gave a pull and the whisper of fabric separating broke the silence. She stepped back, allowing the dress to fall down her arms and sink to the floor.

  Ben sucked in a breath. “Holy shit, Hope.”

  If that was his reaction, she’d have to go commando more often. She stood a little taller as she stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside. His gaze turned feral, and in the flickering light, he looked like he’d devour her in one delicious bite.

  “I think you’re overdressed there, cowboy.”

  Eyes never leaving hers, his hands went for the buttons on his shirt, slowly undoing each one. Her anticipation built with each inch of skin he exposed. Muscles stretched and rippled as he shrugged off his shirt and tossed it on her dress. The firelight cast him in gold, as if he was some ancient god come to life. She feasted hungrily on him, taking in his pecs, the ridges of his abs, and the vee of dark hair that disappeared into his black jeans. She stretched out her hand, running her thumb down from his navel, stopping at his belt buckle to help him release it.

  In a quick movement, he’d unbuttoned his fly, toeing off his boots before pushing down his pants.

  She smirked. “What, you’re not leaving your boots on?”

  He grunted. “Hell, no.”

  “Then leave your hat on.”

  He straightened, stealing a kiss before he answered. “I can’t promise it’ll stay on.”

  “No hat, no heels.”

  “That so?” He grazed his fingers along the curve of her breast. “I like you in nothing but heels.”

  Her tongue flicked out to wet her lower lip, mouth suddenly dry.

  “See what you do to me, Hope?” He took her hand and placed it on his cock.

  The gesture acted like lightning, sending a bolt of lust so hot, her knees wobbled. She circled him, reveling in the contrast between the velvety skin and the hardness underneath. He groaned as she gave a little squeeze and drew her hand up his shaft, brushing her thumb across the bead of cream that had formed at the tip.

  He pulled her flush, his mouth seeking and finding hers as their tongues danced and curled.

  “God, Hope,” he muttered against her mouth. “I want all of you. No holding back. Nothing between us.”

  White-hot heat pooled between her legs. The thought of being skin to skin with Ben turned her on more than anything. She’d never been skin to skin with anyone. Her pussy clenched in anticipation.

  “I’ve never…”

  He pulled back, studying her, eyes softening. “Neither have I.”

  “Really?” A first for them both. Her heart swelled at the thought of sharing something so intimate with only him.

  “I take birth control.”

  A smile lit his features. “Yeah?”

  She nodded, suddenly feeling shy.

  Ben tilted her chin up. “Are you sure?”

  She gave his cock an answering squeeze. “Never been surer.” She wanted him inside her, pushing her to mind-numbin
g ecstasy.

  His fingers danced down her side, then slipped between them, seeking and finding her damp juncture. He stroked a finger into her wetness, sliding along her slick folds until he reached her hardened nub.

  She gasped as he teased the sensitive bud, knees trembling.

  “I need you, Hope. As sure as I breathe.” Slowly, he sank to his knees, taking her with him.

  “I want you inside me.” She pressed her mouth to his, open and wanton. “Want to feel you.”

  Hope leaned back, tumbling them to the floor, the shearling rug a welcome warmth against her back. Ben loomed over her, his Stetson shadowing them. It was time to lose the hat. She wanted to run her hands through his thick hair. She flipped back the brim, registering the thump when it landed off to the side, and pulled Ben closer.

  He settled himself between her legs, cock pressed against her sex. Leaning in, he took her mouth in a slow, languorous kiss. Tongue sliding and teasing against hers. She rolled her hips in response, inviting him deeper as the needy ache within her built.

  “You’re so beautiful, Hope. So perfect.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, a pang of deep longing surging through her. She wanted to be as perfect as he thought she was. Just for one lovely moment. Forcing her eyes open, she met his steady gaze. “I love you, Ben.” The words caught in her throat as he slid in, penetrating her fully.

  His hips slowly rocked, hitting her clit as he slid out before thrusting back in. Her own hips matched his rhythm as the friction built between them, taking them higher and higher.

  “Kiss me.”

  His mouth met hers, tongue claiming her mouth as he moved deeply within her. Tension threaded through her body, firing her nerve endings. Ben’s chest hair prickled her nipples overloading her senses and nearly driving her over the edge.

  Her orgasm hovered at the edge of her awareness, teasing and building as he continued to slowly rock within her. Heat built in her chest, expanding outward as pressure surged from deep inside of her, pulling her whole body taut, and then releasing in wave after wave of blinding delirium.