“I hope the reality isn’t a disappointment. I haven’t done this in a very long time.”
His lips quirked. “I’m told it’s like riding a bike.”
“Or a big, strong cowboy?” The deliberately naughty challenge nearly broke him.
“It’s a long night,” he said. “I don’t want us to peak too early.”
“Peak? Interesting choice of words.”
“Shut up and let me kiss you,” he groaned. He wasn’t holding her all that tightly. One wiggle or protest from Mellie and she would be free. But to his everlasting relief, she didn’t seem to mind being his captive.
He pressed the weight of his lower body against hers. Still holding her arms over her head, he kissed the side of her neck, nuzzled the spot just below her ear. “You put something in my food last week,” he complained. “Some drug that makes me want you incessantly.”
She nipped his chin with sharp teeth. “I’m no femme fatale. Maybe you’ve been on a celibate streak. Maybe I’m available. Maybe you’re grateful that I didn’t leave you alone to suffer that first night.”
He had to let her go so he could touch her. Reverently, he covered her breasts with his hands. Clearly she wasn’t wearing a bra. And just as clearly, her firm, young flesh was made for his caress. Her nipple budded beneath the silky fabric as he brushed his thumb back and forth.
“I don’t know what it is,” he admitted. “And I don’t care. But I need you tonight, Mellie. More than you know.”
Again he picked her up, and again her head came to rest over his heart. He traversed the halls of his quiet dark house by memory, avoiding furniture and other pitfalls. In his bedroom, he paused. Mellie hadn’t said a word. Was she shy? Having second thoughts?
“Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me what you want.”
The drapes at the windows were open wide. In the ambient light he saw enough of her smile to be reassured that she wanted the same things he did, though she didn’t obey his demand for her to speak.
Gently, he set her on her feet and spun her around until he could reach the single fastening at the nape of her neck. He slipped the beaded button free of the buttonhole and eased the entire bodice of the dress to her waist.
The room was hushed, every molecule of air quivering with anticipation. Opposite them, the mirror over his dresser reflected a ghostly tableau. When he embraced her from behind and dragged her back against his pelvis, they both groaned.
It was torture to shape her bare breasts with his hands. He wanted to see her fully, but there was something wickedly sensual about their dim, shadowy figures in the glass.
At last he turned her to face him. A few inches of zipper at the base of her spine gave way beneath his questing fingers, and then he held her hand as she stepped out of the dress.
She tapped his throat with a fingertip. “Your turn.”
He had to wait, chest heaving as she fumbled with his bow tie and unfastened the studs down his front. When that was done, he shrugged out of his jacket and shirt and tossed them aside far more recklessly than he had her soft gown.
With Mellie standing in front of him clad in nothing but stilettos and undies, he was a wreck. “Time out,” he croaked.
At this particular moment he didn’t have either the patience or the fortitude to make it through a slow undressing. He kicked off his shoes, ripped off his socks, and shucked his pants and boxers in short order.
Totally nude, he snagged her wrist and drew her back into his embrace. “Leave the shoes on,” he begged.
“Whatever you want, cowboy.” Her voice was warm as honey on a summer day. He heard arousal and humor in equal measures.
His erection bobbed eagerly against her belly, but she didn’t seem to mind. He ran his hands over her satin-covered butt, imagining all the ways he was going to take her. “This first round might be fast and furious, but we’ve got all night.” It was a promise and a reminder to himself. He could afford to be patient...maybe.
One last time, he indulged in the pleasure of carrying her, this time to the king-size bed. He flipped back the covers and deposited her on the mattress. After striking a match to the small candle on the bedside table, he lowered himself at her side and splayed a hand against her flat belly. “I have condoms,” he said flatly. “I would never take chances with you.”
He wanted her to know she could trust him.
Mellie wasn’t shy. At least not anymore. One hand closed around his shaft and stroked lazily.
He sucked in a sharp breath, mortifyingly close to embarrassing himself. “Let’s save that part for later, darlin’, when I’m not so trigger-happy.”
She released him. “If you say so.”
The only reason he’d been at all able to hold himself in check was that he’d let her keep her last item of clothing. But now it was time for the panties to go. When he slid them down her legs, the nylon snagged on the sharp heel of one shoe. “I’ll buy you more,” he swore. “A dozen pairs in every color of the rainbow.”
Without warning, she rolled to her stomach, arms cradling her head. “You could massage my back,” she said, her voice muffled. “All that standing and dancing in heels isn’t easy.” She bent her knees and crossed her ankles in the air, taunting him with the sexy pose.
At least he thought that was what she was doing. Maybe she didn’t understand how damned sexy she looked. Telling himself he was no rookie kid in the bedroom, he straddled her waist and settled his thumbs on either side of her spine. With firm pressure, he moved from her bottom to her shoulders in steady increments.
Mellie’s hands fisted in the sheets. “Damn, you’re good,” she mumbled. “This is better than sex.”
He caressed every inch of her back. Up and down. Back and forth. “Not even close.”
When her body was lax and warm, he reached for the handful of small foil packets he’d put in easy reach. He sheathed himself rapidly, then flipped her to her back and positioned himself between her legs.
Mellie watched him, eyelids drooping, cheekbones flushed with color, arms over her head. “You’re a very beautiful man,” she said quietly, her gaze raking him from chest to groin.
Gripping her hips, he shoved deep in one forceful thrust. He didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he saw tiny yellow spots of light that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. The fit was perfect.
In retrospect, perhaps he should have started with something more original than missionary position sex. But honestly, his brain circuits were shot to hell and back. Already he needed to come. Needed it more than air and water and food. But he battled the urge.
He wanted Mellie as hungry as he was...and as desperate for the pleasure that hovered just out of reach. His hands were dark against her white skin. He liked touching her...liked the notion that she had come to his home...to his bed.
Later, perhaps, he would remember his rules. And wonder why he’d broken them for someone he’d met only a few weeks ago. But now it didn’t matter.
Now she was everything he wanted and needed.
He moved in her slowly, controlling the joining of their bodies with a firm grip, loving the way her eyelids fluttered shut as her breathing quickened. “This is only the beginning,” he muttered.
Mellie arched her back, her rose-tipped breasts quivering as he picked up the pace. “Promises, promises.”
How could she make him smile in the midst of blind lust? He changed the angle slightly and felt the moment she caught her breath. Knowing she was with him, teetering on the brink, he let go, shuddered and collapsed into the storm.
Fourteen
Mellie couldn’t breathe. The problem originated in one of two sources. Either her condition was the aftermath of a wildly lush and powerful orgasm, or it was due to the fact that a large, heavy man lay on top of her, apparently comatose.
She allowed herself a smug smile. For a woman who was out of practice in the bedroom, she hadn’t done half-badly. Of course, in all honesty, most of the credit had to go to Case. Alpha males might be stubborn and aggravating and impossibly bossy, but in certain situations, it was nice to have a man with confidence. A man who could play a woman’s body as if only he knew the tune.
In the quiet of the bedroom, she cataloged the situation. She needed to go pee, but she didn’t want to move. She took in Case’s bed...Case’s bedroom...Case’s big warm frame sprawled in her arms. If she were a cat, she’d be purring right now.
A river of feelings moved through her veins. Relaxation. Joy. Quiet amazement. For once, she had ignored her cautious instincts and let nature take its course. Most of the time, she ran a tight ship. Work. Home. Work and more work. Losing her mother as a teenager had left her with a need for security. And Harold was never going to be any help there.
But holding things together all the time was difficult. She’d become a grown-up before she had a chance to make teenage mistakes. Maybe she was regressing. Maybe Case Baxter was her adolescent blunder. Sleeping with a client wasn’t exactly the most professional move she’d ever made...
Suddenly, her lover groaned and rolled onto his back. She held her breath until he settled back to sleep. When his breathing was even and deep again, she slipped from the bed and tiptoed naked into his bathroom, then eased the door shut behind her.
After taking care of business, she found a thick navy robe on the back of the door and slid her arms into it. She had to roll up the sleeves and belt the waist tightly, but it at least gave her some protection from the vulnerability of prancing around stark naked.
Her reflection in the mirror made her wince. Wild hair, mascara smudges, whisker burns on her neck. Her thighs tightened at the memory of Case nibbling his way from her ear to shoulder.
In hindsight, it might have been prudent to actually bring her overnight case inside. Fat lot of good it was doing her out in Case’s car. But then again, she and Case had been too busy cavorting in the romantic moonlight to worry about pedestrian realities like toothbrushes and nighties.
When she turned out the bathroom light and prepared to slip back into bed, her stomach growled loudly. She’d been too nervous to eat much at the party, and lunch today had been slim, as well. Fortunately, she knew her way around Case’s kitchen. And she knew how much food his friends had brought over while he was sick.
As she reached into the fridge for a container of cold chicken, two big hands grabbed her butt. She yelped and spun around. “Case!”
He gave her a mock scowl. “I woke up and you were gone.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Is that my robe you’re wearing?”
She flushed. Case had on nothing but a pair of cotton pajama pants. His big bare feet were sexy, which meant she was in real trouble. Because she’d never been turned on by feet before. “My overnight bag is still in the car.”
Case grabbed the ends of the terrycloth belt and drew her against him. “My robe never looked so good.” He lowered his head and kissed her, long and sweet, making her toes curl against the cold ceramic-tile kitchen floor.
She twined her arms around his neck. Without shoes, the difference in their height was magnified. He made her feel fragile and cherished. She’d always been proud of her self-sufficiency. But it turned out there was something to be said for the notion of allowing a big, strong man to take charge once in a while.
She buried her nose in his bare shoulder. He smelled of soap and warm male skin and sex. “I was raiding your leftovers,” she said.
He chuckled, the sound reverberating through her when he kissed the top of her head. “You don’t really want cold chicken, do you...”
It was more a statement than a question. She raked her fingernail across his flat copper-colored nipple. “Is there a better offer on the table?”
“Maybe.” He inhaled sharply. “If I feed you popcorn, will you come back to bed afterward?”
“I could be persuaded.”
He picked her up by the waist and set her on top of the butcher-block island. Moments later he had the microwave humming. The scent of hot popcorn filled the air.
When it was done, Case opened a bottle of wine, poured two glasses and hopped up to sit beside her, handing her the bowl of popcorn. “It doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it?”
Mellie shrugged. “We all have our weaknesses. But I like to think I’m a realist. The most important things in life are free.”
He was quiet for a long time. What was he thinking?
This huge, wonderful house was a lonely cave for a man to rattle around in. He should have a wife and several children to keep him company. Then again, some guys liked being bachelors.
“May I ask you a personal question?” she asked.
Case drained his wineglass and set it aside. “Sure. Fire away.”
“With your parents gone, how do you celebrate Thanksgiving?” The holiday was less than a week away.
“I don’t really.” Case shrugged. “I have an aunt and uncle in Austin. They always invite me, and sometimes I accept. Other years I go skiing with friends in Colorado.”
“Have you celebrated any holiday in this house since your parents died?”
“No.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she knew she had hit a nerve. “Would you let me cook for you next week? Nothing fancy...just turkey and dressing and maybe a pie or two.”
“You don’t have to feel sorry for me, Mellie. I’ve been thinking about Thanksgiving, too. But I thought we could head down to Key West for the long weekend. Rent a boat. Sail around the islands. Eat fresh seafood and dance under the stars.”
“Sounds like a movie. Way too good to be true.” Did he feel the need to impress her? Or was the idea of having a woman cook for him too domestic...too familiar? “Never mind,” she said lightly. “It was just a thought.”
When he put a hand on her bare knee, she jumped. The sides of her robe had gaped, allowing him a glimpse of her legs covered in gooseflesh.
“We need to get you back in bed,” he said. “Before you catch pneumonia.”
The change of subject was awkward, but she let it slide. “Bed sounds nice.” And maybe round number two. Her snack had revived her. Leaving the door open for other hungers to be sated.
They walked hand in hand to the bedroom. A yawn caught her unawares.
Case laughed. “I’ll let you sleep first.”
“First?”
“Before round two.”
Scrambling onto the mattress, she shed his robe and held out her arms. “I can sleep when I’m dead.”
This time she took the initiative. She pulled Case by the wrist. “Lie down on your back,” she said. “It’s my turn to play tour guide.”
“Whatever the lady wants.”
The words were playful, but the fierce light in his eyes was anything but. His hard body quivered, poised for action. When Mellie reclined beside him and delicately licked the head of his shaft, he cursed and groaned. It was heady stuff to make the mighty Case Baxter weak and needy.
She stroked him with two hands. He was a big man everywhere.
Moments later he grabbed her wrist in an iron hold. “Enough.” The glazed expression in his eyes told her what he wanted.
With only a second or two to decide if she was feeling sexually adventurous tonight, she moved over him and sat on his upper thighs. “I like having you at my mercy,” she whispered. The sense of being in control was false. She knew that. Case Baxter might be a Texas gentleman, but in certain situations, the veneer of civilization wore thin.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. His cheekbones carried a flush of color, and his eyes were so dark the pupils were barely discernible. “I’ll let you call the shots on this one, Mellie. Be my guest.”
The words were lazy and compliant, but his hands fisted at his hips and cords of muscles flexed in his arms. The lion wasn’t sleeping...merely biding his time.
After she reached for a condom, she opened it and rolled it over Case’s erection. Then rising onto her knees, she lowered herself and took him deep. He’d given her one outstanding orgasm already, but she was greedy. She wanted more.
Case cursed and grabbed her ass in a bruising grip. “Don’t move,” he begged.
Was he really so susceptible to her charms? It seemed unlikely. Mellie possessed a healthy self-esteem, but she knew Case had access to more women than was good for him. Money, good looks, Texas cowboy charm...the trifecta wasn’t really fair to the female sex.
She had to question his ex-wife’s intelligence.
Mellie rested her hands, palms flat, on her lover’s chest, feeling the heat of him, the light dusting of hair, the tough, muscled breadth of him. She’d told herself a hundred times that she could play this game and not get hurt. But suddenly, a knot lodged in her throat.
When had she let him become so human? When had he ceased to be the wealthy, powerful president of the Texas Cattleman’s Club? When had she forgotten he could buy and sell the Keep N Clean a hundred times over and never miss the cash?
Her enjoyment of the intimate moment wavered.
Case—damn him—noticed instantly. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“Nothing.”
He grimaced. “The universal female response. And you don’t sell it any better than the next woman. Talk to me, Mellie.”
Unexpectedly, a wave of bittersweet regret rolled over her. Hot tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she’d have died before letting him see. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “Great, in fact. Just tired.”
“I’ll let you sleep soon,” he swore. “But first, my turn...”
* * *
Case knew this time was different. Earlier, he and Mellie had come together in the heat of a mutual passion. Reckless. Unabashed. Grabbing for what they wanted...wringing every drop of physical sensation from the experience. The sex was some of the best of his life.
Courting the Cowboy Boss: Reclaimed by the Rancher Page 12
