Kissed by a Cowboy

by Pamela Britton

  “You’re so beautiful.” He touched her cheek again. “On the inside.” He marveled for a moment. “Your goodness glows from your eyes.”

  She covered his fingers with her own. “That’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me.” She leaned her head into his hand. Like a kitten, kissing his fingers, the touch of her lips sending tingles up his arm and through his body. He leaned down, pulled her up against him with his other hand and kissed her again. That same hand dropped, finding and then tugging up her shirt. When his palm made contact with bare skin, he knew there’d be no turning back. Touching her skin made all his nerve endings fire. Made him kiss her more deeply. Made him lift the shirt up higher until he reached the edge of her bra, his fingers slipping beneath the lacy fabric.

  She gasped.

  He’d found the swell of her breast but it really wasn’t what he wanted to do—touch her there—and so he leaned back and lifted her green shirt. It came off with an ease that made him sigh half in relief and half in admiration because she had one of those athletic bodies, the kind with a flat belly and a narrow waist.

  “Gorgeous,” he murmured just before his lips lowered to the curve of her breast. His cowboy hat brushed her collarbone. He tossed it aside and lowered his head once again, fingers tugging at the fabric of her bra. When his mouth found her dusky center, she sighed, too, but for a different reason. Hers was a sigh of satisfaction and of surprise and of need.

  “Wes.” He heard her say as she arched into him.

  She tasted sweet and warm and like the berries he always smelled whenever around her. Her hands found his hair, the soft touch of her fingers prompting him to be more bold, to lightly nip her. Her hands moved, too. He understood why a moment later. His denim shirt began to slide upward. He angled his shoulders to help her ease it off. They moved as one toward the edge of the bed and it took everything Wes had not to pick her up and place her on the mattress. She grasped the top of his jeans. He paused for a moment, giving her the opportunity to stop, not wanting to pressure her. Instead, she released the pressure inside his pants by unsnapping his jeans. Her knuckles brushed the ridge of flesh covered by his boxers. He hissed, and when her mouth found his own nipple, he sucked in a breath. She was shorter than him by a lot, and so she didn’t have to move much to do things to him, amazing things...

  She unbuttoned her pants. He felt more than saw her do it and by the time he opened his eyes, she’d let them drop and they were standing there almost naked and he went back to kissing her again, only this time there was a sense of urgency to it. He lost strength in his knees. She did, too, both of them falling onto the bed. She landed on top of him, and he liked that she took the initiative. He would have kept on kissing her, except he sensed something. A canine something. He turned his head.

  Cowboy stared at them.

  He froze. Jillian must have sensed it. She turned, too.

  “He thinks we’re playing.”

  “Oh, we’re playing, all right.”

  She laughed. He snapped his fingers. Cowboy glanced back and forth between them and Wes could tell he really did think they were playing. He had a silly canine grin on his face.

  “Go lie down,” he told the dog. The silly canine grin dimmed. “Go on.”

  She collapsed against him, but for a different reason this time. She was laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.”

  Something had tickled her funny bone, but he didn’t care what, because he was entranced with what amusement did to her face. He placed a palm against her face, the two of them eye to eye. She still wore her bra and her underwear and he couldn’t help but think she looked like a sexy lingerie model with her chic hairstyle and unusual eyes.

  “I’m surprised men don’t beat a path to your door.” His fingers skated along her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

  The amusement faded away. She blinked a few times. He didn’t know what emotion he saw in her eyes, but he didn’t like it. He leaned up on an elbow before bending and kissing her. She didn’t move at first, and for a moment Wes worried that something had changed, that whatever it was he’d seen in her eyes had scared her. But then she kissed him back. Hard. Her hands shifted to the back of his neck, holding him there, her body arching into him. It was all the answer he needed. He hooked a finger into his waistband, slid his boxers down. She somehow managed to keep kissing him while shrugging out of her bra and underwear.

  Still, he had to ask, “Are you sure?” as he opened his nightstand drawer.

  “I’m sure.”

  Her eyes never looked away from his own, not when he opened the foil packet, not when he slipped protection on, her gaze unwavering as he slid between her thighs.

  He thought they’d lose themselves in a kiss again, but when his lips touched hers, it was only momentarily. He shifted a bit, kissed her once more, briefly, just a light touch. With each kiss her eyes grew softer, and with each nudge of his hips, those remarkable eyes of hers changed. He was mesmerized.

  Her hand found his. Their fingers twined. When at last their bodies joined, she released a sigh. He did, too, but he couldn’t look away from her, didn’t kiss her again, just marveled at what it felt like to be inside her while their gazes held.

  She tipped her chin and, when he thrust, kissed him, hard, mouth open, tongue searching. He moved again and she withdrew. Another thrust and she went back for another kiss. He groaned. She did it again, pulled her lips away when he pulled away. He thrust deeper. She kissed him deeper. The erotic tease drove him nuts, and yet he’d begun to climb and so had she. He could see it in her eyes. He thrust again and she kissed him again, and then he closed his eyes because he knew he wasn’t going to last if he kept staring at her.

  It didn’t help.

  They’d connected, not just physically but emotionally, too. He didn’t need to see her to feel her, to anticipate her moves, to find her mouth. He didn’t need to look in her eyes to know they were full of want. His climax hovered. So did hers, but he held them there, wouldn’t let them crest the rise, slowed things down for as long as he could, only he couldn’t seem to stop it from happening. A light flashed. The world moved. He cried out. She did, too.

  “Wes.”

  Jillian, he answered back silently. What have you done to me, Jillian?

  His hands squeezed hers, Wes surprised to realize their fingers were still twined. His forehead rested against her shoulder as they ever so slowly returned to earth.

  She’d bewitched him, that was what she’d done, and God help him, Wes wasn’t certain he could ever break her spell.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She wanted to stay in his arms all day. Wanted to go on pretending his house was a perfect oasis, a place where they could keep reality at bay. A place where there were no crazy ex-girlfriends, where she didn’t have to be afraid Wes would break her heart, where she was like any other normal person, one who didn’t fear falling in love.

  Could she love Wes?

  She turned her head. His green eyes were full of softness and delight, her own lids suddenly heating up as if she might cry.

  Yes, she probably could.

  “I better go.”

  His brows lifted. “What?”

  She slid sideways off the bed, calling over her shoulder, “Your mom’s going to wonder why I’m not working with her horses.”

  The bed shifted. She knew he’d sat up, too, a hand landing on her shoulder before his lips lightly grazed the back of her neck. “She probably thinks we’re still down at the barn talking about Dudley.”

  She might. Then again, she might not. What if the woman had gone down to the barn to check in on her? Vivian was no fool. She’d know with a glance what had just happened.

  Damn it. Where was her bra?

  She found it at the foot of the bed. Her shirt, too. She quickly pulled them on.

  “You sure you don’t want to stick around?” He reached out and picked up his shirt, but he didn’t slip it on. “I have
to feed the horses and check water. I thought you might want to tag along.”

  A part of her longed to say yes. Another part of her, the sane and logical part, told her to get away fast.

  “I’d like to, Wes, I really would, but I want to see how that broodmare is doing. Plus, Natalie’s away at a show this weekend, and I promised I’d pop in and check on her horses tonight which means I don’t have a lot of time to spare.” Which wasn’t precisely true. She’d told Natalie she’d drop by at some point this weekend, but it didn’t have to be today.

  “Too bad.”

  Yes, she thought, putting on her pants. Too bad. It was all too bad.

  “Will I see you this week?”

  “I don’t know. Depends.”

  Vivian had asked her to look in on her horses at Golden Downs racetrack. Plus she had a few new clients and then her regulars. “Busy week.”

  He’d gotten dressed as quickly as she had, moving around the foot of the bed and stopping in front of her. “I feel like you’re running out of here.”

  She hoped he didn’t see the way his words made her want to look anywhere but at him. She was running. Her heart even raced as if she’d just run a marathon. “I’m just in a hurry to get back to the barn.”

  “Are you worried my mom might be down there looking for us or something?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  He smiled then shook his head. “She’s not, and even if she was, she wouldn’t care what we’ve been up to.”

  She wasn’t so sure. “I just worry she might not approve. You know, especially with all that’s going on in your life.”

  It was the right thing to say. He nodded, and she noticed that his hair had a crease in it where his cowboy hat had been. For some reason she found that adorable.

  Get out now.

  “We’ll talk later.” She had to just about jump up to kiss his cheek. He reached for her, but she ducked away before he could catch her. The pulse at the base of her neck felt like a woodpecker.

  “You want to try for dinner tomorrow, then?”

  She kept walking. “Can’t. I’m supposed to go over to Mariah’s house tomorrow and work some more on the benefit.”

  When she glanced back, she could see the disappointment in his eyes. Better this way, she told herself. Keep it casual. He was a man. They were used to that type of thing. He had a baby because of that type of thing.

  She paused by the front door, then looked back again. Wes stood in the hallway, shirt off, Cowboy at his feet. The sight of the two of them standing there, both of them staring at her so intently, it made her wonder what would happen if she threw caution to the wind and let her heart fall.

  “I’ll call you.” It sounded so trite and so cliché, so...dismissive.

  He reached down and patted the top of his dog’s head. “Drive carefully.”

  Coward.

  No. She wasn’t a coward. She was pragmatic. It was easier this way. They barely knew each other. Their being together was just...chemistry. Nothing more.

  But with every step she took, regret built. It filled her to the point that she almost felt ill as she went first to the barn to check on Vivian’s broodmare and a few other horses then later walked back to his mother’s home.

  “There you are.”

  Vivian. She was out front, kneeling in a flower bed, a baby monitor a splotch of white in the grass.

  Damn. She’d been hoping to slip out unnoticed. “Sorry.” She smiled. “I got hung up talking to Wes.”

  Vivian seemed to swallow the explanation. She got up and tugged off her garden gloves, the flash of her ring catching the quickly waning light. “I was hoping to catch you before you left. I had an idea while you were visiting with my son.”

  Visiting. That was one way to put it.

  “I thought, why don’t we hold that benefit we talked about here at the house?”

  She was so busy wondering if Wes’s mother suspected what had really gone on that she didn’t catch her meaning at first.

  “What?”

  “The CEASE benefit.” A smile sprouted on her face, one as large and as cheerful as a sunflower. “I was thinking about it after you left and I thought, wouldn’t it be something if we held the benefit here at the farm? I mean, wouldn’t that knock a few people for a loop. A benefit at a race farm for the organization that’s made such a fuss at the racetrack?”

  She referred, of course, to her friend Mariah’s efforts to stop horse racing at Golden Downs, and she was right: it would be something. Definitely media worthy.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” No doubt she’d ruffle a few feathers. “I’m sure we can find somewhere else.”

  “You could, but why?” Vivian’s smile was warm and full of self-satisfaction. “Ever since Edward died, I’ve been rattling around this place all by myself. It’s too big for one person, but it’s perfect for entertaining.”

  It was more than perfect. “I know, but—”

  “Stop. I know what you’re going to say. It’s too much work, and with the baby.” She glanced at the monitor on the ground. “But I’m good at entertaining. It’s what I do best. Let me help you guys.”

  And what could she say to that? “Thank you, Vivian. Your generosity is incredible.”

  “Nonsense.” She glanced up at the sky, her eyes going from deep green to light emerald. “We’re losing daylight. I should probably call it quits for the day. Come back to the house later this week, maybe Wednesday. We’ll start planning.”

  “I’ll check with Mariah and see if she’s available.”

  “If she’s not, you and I can get started,” Vivian said, her expression brightening in such a way that Jillian knew she liked her friend. “This will be a hoot.”

  A hoot. Being forced to see Wes? She’d decided on her walk that it’d be best to keep her distance from him. Now this.

  “We don’t have to meet. We could always use email.”

  Vivian’s blond brows rose. “Don’t be silly. Come by the house on Wednesday.”

  She couldn’t say no, and so she didn’t, but as Jillian drove home that night, she wondered how the heck she would avoid Wes. And why it seemed so important to do exactly that.

  * * *

  SHE WAS AVOIDING HIM.

  It was easy to do. She’d handed out cards at the bull-and-gelding sale and between her existing clients and new ones, including Wes’s mother, she’d been run ragged. She also maintained a blog, worked on a book she was trying to write and basically kept herself busy, but by Wednesday night she’d edged closer to the lip of the cliff. All day long she’d wanted to call Wes to see how his meeting with Maggie’s mother had gone, but she’d stopped herself at least a half-dozen times.

  Wednesday dawned after a fitful night spent dreaming of Wes. He’d been kissing her again. Doing that thing they’d done when they’d made love. She’d woken up sweating, anxious and out of sorts. She didn’t know how she’d hide her anxiety from Mariah. When they’d met with Vivian a few days ago, they’d taken separate cars. Today they were riding together.

  “You look great!” her friend said after rolling down the window to her state-of-the-art veterinary truck. A recent purchase that was all her own, instead of the one she’d been driving, which had been owned by the new clinic where she worked. Her own wheels, she’d told Jillian the day she’d bought it. “I love that outfit.”

  Had she overdone it? She wore a long-sleeved shirt with a studded cross on the front. A little more bling than usual, but the jeans were of the plain-Jane variety.

  “Thanks. You look like you just got off from work.”

  “I did.”

  “But your hair looks different. Did you get it cut?”

  She’d never seen her friend so happy. Her eyes glowed like a new piece of jewelry. The red hair, always wild and unkempt, had been tamed today. Instead of ringlets there were big curls.

  “Oh? Do you like it? Zach and I are going out to dinner after our meeting with Vivian. You should see the dress I
have stashed in the back. Very hubba hubba. Can’t wait for Zach to peel it off me.”

  “Eww. I didn’t need to hear that.” But her friend’s comment brought back memories of Wes’s hand slipping beneath her bra—

  Don’t.

  She didn’t want to go there. So far she felt as if she’d gotten off lightly. Wes had tried calling her a few times, but she’d managed to duck every one of his calls, returning them when she knew he’d be busy feeding the horses or riding or taking care of something. She’d been lucky. She probably wouldn’t be lucky tonight. But what did she say to him? “Sorry, Wes, but I think seeing you again is a bad idea”?

  That’s exactly what you should do.

  She knew that, but it wouldn’t make it any easier to say. So as they arrived at Landon Farms, Jillian’s fingers curled and uncurled. She worried Mariah might sense her tension, but it seemed her friend had bigger fish to fry—such as the benefit dinner.

  “I can’t believe Vivian Landon is sponsoring our benefit,” she said as she drove in. “And that she mentioned maybe holding it at her place. Can you imagine how many people we could fit into Vivian’s house? And the people she probably knows? People with money. If we raise enough, we can fund that gelding clinic I was telling you about.”

  Jillian just nodded. When the barn and arena came into view, she looked for Wes, thinking he might be riding. He wasn’t. There was no sign of him. Not anywhere. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t called her yesterday, either. She knew his mom kept him busy exercising her colts and caring for livestock, not to mention the breeding schedule and all the other stuff a farm manager handled, but he’d found time to call the other days. But as she faced forward, she wondered if perhaps he’d gotten the message. Or if maybe he was hurt that she hadn’t tried harder to get through to him.

  Vivian answered the door with another wide smile, stepping through the doorway and giving Mariah a hug, her platinum-blond hair pulled into a short ponytail. The two had met at the track, Mariah had explained, and they saw each other frequently. Mariah’s fiancé trained racehorses, some of them his own, some of them belonging to others. His business had taken off over the past year and Vivian liked to visit her own horses at the track.