A Cowboy's Luck

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

The urgency of that need made her pull back, gasping. “We can have a potentially dicey adventure in that chair, or—”

  “Something more basic and satisfying?”

  “Bingo.” She pushed away from the chair. “Meet you in the bedroom.” She sauntered in that direction with a deliberate sway to her hips. “I turned back the sheets.”

  “Oh, Roxanne. What you do to me.”

  Her heart pounded and moisture gathered in all her secret places. She glanced over her shoulder. “And I’ll do it again if you’re willing.” She got another two steps before he was there, scooping her up, his mouth settling over hers and his tongue plunging deep as he carried her into the bedroom.

  He laid her on the snowy sheets and stepped back. “I’m willing.” His voice was a low growl of desire as he stripped off her clothes. “And judging from the way you’re panting, so are you.”

  She gulped for air. “You get to me.”

  “And you get to me.” He shucked his clothes and took a condom out of his jeans pocket. “As you can see from the evidence.”

  Oh, she could see, all right. She’d never tire of looking at him standing before her, his aroused body proclaiming how much he wanted her. “I hope you plan to bring that evidence on over here.”

  “Don’t worry.” He rolled the condom on and climbed onto the mattress. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.” Moving between her thighs, he took her in one smooth thrust. “Or enough of this.” He drew back and drove in again.

  Someday you might. But he was with her now. And it was perfect.

  Locked in tight, he paused and held her gaze. “I love this moment when my cock is nestled deep inside you.” He took a ragged breath. “When I’m as far in as I can go, as close as I can get.”

  Her body hummed, energized by the intense connection. “I love it, too.”

  “I almost don’t want to move, because I know when I do, we’ll ramp it up. Then we’ll both come. It will be over. And I’ll have to wait for this moment to happen again.”

  “I know.”

  “But then I feel you tighten, like now.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “I’m not complaining. It feels great when you do that. But it makes me want to move.”

  She grasped his hips. “Then move. We have all night.”

  “You need sleep.”

  “I’ll sleep later. Make me come.”

  With a soft groan of surrender, he created a quick, rhythmic motion that rapidly turned a flickering flame into an inferno. She arched upward with a loud cry and abandoned herself to the glorious sensations rolling through her body.

  He pushed deep once more and shuddered against her, his massive chest heaving as he called out her name. Then he slowly relaxed against her and nuzzled the curve of her neck. “I hope you meant that.” His soft murmur tickled her overheated skin.

  Gradually her breathing slowed enough that she could speak. “Meant what?”

  “About all night.”

  “I did. I don’t know how long Wes is staying.”

  “Then we’ll make the most of tonight.” Lifting his head, he held her gaze. “I’m gonna miss you like the devil.”

  “I’ll miss you, too. We’ll see each other, but it won’t be like this.”

  “And I crave this.”

  “Me, too.” Admitting that might not be wise, but she’d worry about consequences tomorrow. Tonight she was in Michael’s arms, and that was exactly where she wanted to be.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite intending to stay awake all night, Michael changed his mind around two in the morning. Roxanne was game, but eventually her hastily smothered yawns and drooping eyelids convinced him she needed sleep more than another orgasm. Despite what she said.

  Cuddling her close, he fell asleep smiling. Sex with her was great, but simply holding her made him happy, too.

  He woke to the gray light of dawn with his arm around Roxanne’s soft body, his hand cupping her breast and the curve of her backside tucked against his package. The aroma of freshly baked bread drifted from downstairs. More than enough to send him into full arousal mode.

  The last time this had happened, he’d left the bed so Roxanne could sleep. He decided to stay where he was.

  She wasn’t likely to have another change of heart and ask him to go. But there was a chill in the air and he’d have to put on clothes if he got up. Clothes would be a deterrent to morning sex, which he dearly loved.

  He waited. And she stirred. The brush of her delicious bottom agitated his already very stiff cock. Murmuring something, she laid her hand over his and pressed his palm against her nipple.

  He put his mouth close to her ear. “You awake?”

  “Mm.”

  Not much of an answer. He kept his voice low. “Roxanne?”

  “Mm-hm.” She sounded groggy, still not fully awake.

  But her nipple tightened beneath his palm. Carefully disengaging his hand, he eased to his back and reached over the side of the bed. He touched denim. His or hers? His.

  Heat sluiced through him as he quietly pulled a condom from the pocket and let the jeans slide to the floor. Opening the package, he rolled on the condom and let out a slow breath.

  He turned toward her.

  She lay on her back, gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her pink mouth curved in a sleepy smile. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” His voice was thick. “I—”

  “Come here.” She shoved back the covers and held out her arms.

  He’d never had such a welcome invitation in his life. Filled with gratitude, he accepted, shifting his body up and over hers and gliding into her slick channel like a dolphin slipping beneath the waves.

  She sighed and wrapped her arms around him as he settled in. Long, easy strokes. Leaning down, he feathered a kiss over her lips. Her tongue darted out and he deepened the kiss slightly, mindful of his beard but wanting the friction of her tongue against his.

  The buildup was gradual, unhurried. At first she barely moved as he rocked gently back and forth. Then her body lifted, rising to meet his. Her breath quickened and she drew back from his kiss to gulp in air.

  A whimpered plea from her lips, one vigorous thrust and she was there, the undulations of her orgasm touching off his. Sweet heaven this was good. The pleasure engulfed him, wrenching a groan of satisfaction from deep in his chest. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, storing it away for later.

  When he opened his eyes, she was watching him with what could only be described as tenderness. He treasured the light in her eyes. It made him want to stay, but it was time.

  “I’m going to leave, now,” he murmured.

  Her eyes widened. “You are?”

  “Yeah. I figure you could use a little time and space before your brother gets here.”

  She nodded. “Guess so.”

  He leaned down and kissed her lightly. “See you soon.”

  * * *

  Although Roxanne snuggled back under the covers while Michael prepared to leave, she fought the urge to get up and convince him to stay longer. She could have fixed him breakfast. Not as grand as the diner could provide, but something decent, especially if she popped down to the bakery for some pastries.

  Except he was right. She needed an opportunity to clean the apartment before Wes arrived but she also needed mental space. Kissing Michael goodbye mid-morning and greeting Wes in the early afternoon would be cutting it too close.

  She wanted to be relaxed when her brother showed up, not rushing around like someone who’d been caught up in a wild fling. Even if she had been. Thanks to Michael’s decision to leave, she’d have several hours to bring order out of chaos, both physical and mental.

  She’d also promised to update Ingrid. Abigail would want to hear the latest, too. That could take some time.

  All that made perfect sense, but when he walked into the living room to get his jacket, sadness gripped her. Oh, wait. He couldn’t just walk out of the building. She needed to loc
k up after him.

  He must have decided that at the same time she did, because he came back into the bedroom buttoning his jacket. “My grand plan to slip out and let you stay in bed won’t work.”

  “I just thought of that, too.” She tossed back the covers and stood.

  Sucking in a breath, he looked away.

  “Sorry.” She opened the closet and took out her robe. When she turned around and started to put it on, her gaze met his. The heat in his eyes melted every rationalization. “Are you sure you want to leave?”

  “No, but I’m going to.” His voice was roughened by desire. “It’s just that seeing you standing there all rosy and tousled doesn’t make it easy.”

  She put on the robe and tied the sash with a sharp tug. “Better?”

  “Sort of. You’re powerful medicine, Roxanne.”

  “I can say the same about you.” She started toward him. “My slippers are in the living room by the computer table.”

  “I’ll get ‘em.”

  “Thanks.”

  He handed them to her when she came out. Then he reached for his hat and put it on. “Not that I’ll be counting the days, but when you find out when Wes is going back, would you shoot me a quick text?”

  “You’ll know when I know.” She smiled. “I’ll be counting the days, too.”

  Heat flared in his eyes and he started toward her. Then he muttered a curse and backed away. “We’d better go. After you.” He gestured toward the door.

  She padded quickly down the stairs. He followed, his boots hitting each stair with a deliberate thud. Damn, she’d miss him. She flipped open the lock and swung around. “There you—”

  He pulled her close and dipped his head. “I can’t leave without this.” His mouth found hers.

  Impulsive. Wonderful. She cupped the back of his head and pulled him down hard.

  Groaning, he thrust his tongue deep. His beard was scratchy, but she didn’t care.

  Grasping her hand, he pried it from his neck as he backed away, breathing hard. “You’ll have whisker burn.”

  She put a hand to her wildly beating heart. “That’s…that’s what makeup is for.”

  His gaze lingered on her mouth. “I could kiss you all day long.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Take care.” He opened the door, letting in a blast of cold air.

  “You, too.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, not so much to stave off the cold as to keep from grabbing him before he walked out that door. Then he was gone.

  She trudged up the stairs to her very empty apartment. But it wouldn’t be empty for long. After a hot shower and a quick breakfast, she dived into cleaning mode.

  Around eleven, she was satisfied with the job. Shoving a key, some cash and her phone in her jacket pocket, she walked down the stairs and over to the bakery. There was usually a lull about now.

  The place was busier than she’d expected, but that was good news. The more sales of coffee and pastries, the better for Pie in the Sky. She ordered a latte and a chocolate croissant before sitting at the only vacant bistro table to wait.

  She got a charge out of watching her friends do their thing. They’d clearly learned the art of supervising the two young employees, Yolanda and Doug. Ingrid kept track of Doug’s operation of the coffee machine and Yolanda’s dispensing of baked goods. Abigail was the field marshal overseeing everything—the ovens, the coffee orders, and the items in the display case.

  The concept of having employees made Roxanne’s head spin. Abigail seemed fine with it. Michael did, too. Roxanne preferred her one-woman operation.

  Her phone chimed with a text message from Wes. She took it out of her pocket.

  Made good time. Should be there in another thirty minutes. Dad said you lived over the bakery. How do I navigate that situation?

  She chuckled. Wes liked specifics. For that matter, so did she. She instructed him to get off at the exit for Eagles Nest and look for Pie in the Sky on the left as he drove down Main Street. If he was that close, she’d stay where she was and meet him here.

  Despite the complications attached to his visit, she could hardly wait for him to arrive. She’d made it back to Spokane for Christmas, but he hadn’t. Classwork and finals had kept him shackled to his studies. She hadn’t laid eyes on him for months.

  The crowd in the bakery thinned out and Ingrid hurried over. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She took a seat on the other side of the small table. “Usually it’s quiet this time of the morning.”

  “But it’s fabulous that business is so good.”

  Ingrid beamed. “Yes, it is. Abigail and I don’t have nightmares anymore about the place closing down.”

  “No, just nightmares about running out of inventory.” Abigail pulled up a third chair and sat down. “Luke’s trying to cure me of that obsession. I just hate telling people we’ve run out of something. They always look so disappointed.”

  Roxanne gave her an affectionate glance. “I swear you won’t be happy until the whole world’s happy.”

  She nodded. “There’s that. It’s an obstacle to finding my Zen.” She focused on Roxanne and grinned. “Rumor has it you’ve found yours.”

  “There are no secrets in this town, are there?”

  “Not many.” Abigail smiled. “You were spotted having breakfast with Michael at the diner yesterday.”

  “And I personally saw him driving away from here around seven this morning,” Ingrid said. “Which brings us to the conclusion you’re dialing it up instead of dialing it back.”

  Roxanne pressed her hands to her warm cheeks. “I’m so not used to the world knowing I’m having sex.”

  “Not the world.” Abigail patted her arm. “Just half the population of Eagles Nest.”

  “Yikes. I may go back into hermit mode, after all.”

  “Just remember you chose this place,” Ingrid said. “A part of you wants a close-knit community.”

  “And the rest of me wants to hide.”

  Ingrid leaned toward her. “FYI, Michael isn’t the hiding type.”

  Abigail laughed and shook her head. “No, he’s not. Luke’s mentioned that. He predicts that in another fifteen or twenty years, Michael will be mayor of this town.”

  “The mayor?” Roxanne stared at her. “Why does he think that?”

  “Because Michael’s always thinking, always innovating. He’d be a natural in public service. He loves people and people love him.”

  “That’s true.”

  “He has his hands full with the GG now, but eventually that won’t be a big enough challenge for him, in Luke’s opinion. Directing the town’s future would be right up his alley.”

  “Huh.” Roxanne finished off her latte. “That blows my mind, thinking of Michael as a pillar of the community.”

  “But I can see it,” Ingrid said. “Can’t you?”

  “Yes.” She pictured that winning smile. “Yes, I can. He’d be great.” She glanced at her friends. “What are you two grinning about?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Abigail glanced at Ingrid and winked. “It’s just cute to see a woman all twitter-pated over a guy.”

  “I’m not, either. We’re having fun, that’s all.” The significance of Luke’s evaluation began to sink in. He has his hands full with the GG now, but eventually that won’t be a big enough challenge for him.

  “It’s time you had some fun,” Ingrid said. “And speaking of that, I’d love to go back to the GG and enjoy a Monkey’s Lunch shooter one of these nights.”

  “Sure.” I’m a challenge to Michael now, but when that’s no longer true…

  “Then let’s do it. Now that you’re grooved in with your guy, you could go with me and not have an anxiety attack.”

  “Right. Although my brother Wes is coming to town and—”

  “Awesome!” Ingrid gave her two thumbs up. “He can go with us. When’s he getting here?”

  “Any minute.” She glanced out the window. “In fact, that’s his truck.” She leaped u
p. “I’ll go get him.” She raced outside.

  “Hey, sis!” Wes came striding toward her with a smile that could light up the world. Her tall, broad-shouldered brother. Dark curly hair, brown eyes. People sometimes mistook them for twins.

  Her throat tightened. He’d always been there for her. She could count on him, no matter what.

  He hugged her tight. “Missed you.”

  “Missed you, too.” She drew back and gazed up at him. “You’re looking good.”

  “So are you. Your hair’s longer.”

  “Don’t have time to cut it.” She wrapped an arm around his waist. “Come on inside. My friends are dying to meet you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Michael hadn’t expected to miss Roxanne this much. He’d left her a little over twelve hours ago and it seemed like days. Part of it was that he couldn’t text or call her. Well, he could, but he’d intrude on her time with her brother. Not doing that.

  He chafed at the uncertainty of when he’d see her again, though. It might be tomorrow and it might be next week. Or it could be…right this minute.

  She sailed through the door of the GG, flushed, windblown, beautiful. She gave him a little wave. He sent back a quick grin before focusing on the tall guy next to her, the one talking to Ingrid.

  Wes had on typical cowboy garb—boots, jeans, sheepskin jacket and black hat. He took off the hat and ran his fingers through his hair. His hair was short but curly like Roxanne’s. He had her high cheekbones, too.

  Putting on the hat again, he surveyed the room. When his attention settled on Michael, his gaze sharpened. Michael stared right back. High noon all over again. He smiled and got an answering grin from Wes. Good start.

  Ellen set down her tray on the bar. “That has to be her brother.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at her. “Whatcha need?”

  “One gin and tonic, one rum and Coke and a JD on the rocks.”

  “Coming up.”

  “How about if I go over and greet them?”

  “That would be great.” The GG had an open seating policy, but he appreciated Ellen’s gesture. He started on the gin and tonic.