The White Cowboy - Complete BWWM Romance Box Set

by Susan Westwood

  “It’s Gemma, isn’t it?”

  “What? What does Gemma have to do with this?”

  “I see now. You’re in love with her,” Helen said.

  “No, I’m not. Even if I was, she’s leaving tomorrow morning. I’m not going to hold her back.”

  “The way that Jessica thought you’d hold her back.”

  “I wouldn’t have. I would have supported her. She never gave me a chance.”

  He choked on those last words. How could she not give him a chance? He was her husband and he had loved her. That would always stick in his craw.

  “But you do love Gemma. That’s why you can’t love Jessica. I see it all clearly. And she must love you, that’s why she couldn’t be here for me convincing you to get back with Jessica.”

  “Helen, I think you need to stay out of this.”

  Helen nodded as if she’d finally understood it all. “Will you at least be supportive of Jessica?”

  “Of course I will. If she wants the baby, then more power to her. She didn’t take the easy way out.”

  He had to think that Jessica had grown a little in her time away from him. But still not enough to make him fall in love with her again.

  ***

  Gemma was typing furiously when Clint entered the house. This was only the third time she’d seen him come inside when he’d been here. How did he stay out in the cold for so long?

  “I wanted to talk to you,” Clint said.

  “Oh?”

  “This is none of my business, but I wish you would stay.”

  She couldn’t stay. She had that appointment with the agent. She was going to be a star. Besides, it should be Brandon asking her to stay. Would she if he did? “I can’t.”

  “I’ve never seen Brandon so happy. Ever.”

  “Clint, I can’t. I’ll pick up my car tonight, then I’ll be on my way in the morning.”

  That was her plan, and she needed to stick to it. Though she wasn’t so sure it was still a good plan. She’d been searching for a place for herself; who knew she would find it in Iowa. A Jersey Girl on a farm in Iowa.

  “He’s in love with you, and he’s too proud to say it.”

  “I doubt he loves me. We haven’t known each other but a few days. I think you’re exaggerating.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Could you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bug him about getting this cookbook done. I don’t have time to format it or edit it. I’m just typing the recipes onto a flash drive. He needs to figure out how to publish it.”

  “Okay. I still wish you would stay.”

  “It isn’t going to happen. Are you coming to the potluck dinner tonight?”

  “No, I’ll be home. I’ve been here a lot this week. I need to take care of my wife,” Clint said.

  “I see. Can you keep a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “I sent one of Brandon’s recipes into the recipe contest.”

  “Who is making it?”

  “One of the church ladies.”

  “I think he’s going to be pissed,” he said.

  “I hope not.”

  ***

  Brandon waved at Helen as she drove off. He’d tried to convince her that he wasn’t going to get back together with Jessica. It didn’t matter that Gemma was leaving. Jessica shouldn’t want to be a consolation prize. He stretched his arms. The lack of sleep the last few nights was catching up to him.

  Not that he would have traded this much sex for anything.

  He whistled as he walked toward the house. He shouldn’t be so happy with a pregnant Jessica back in his life, but he couldn’t manage to get upset.

  Gemma was with Clint when Brandon entered the house. He decided that none of it mattered. “Did you call again to make sure your car is fixed?”

  He didn’t want to bring attention to her leaving, but he was going to try and be like Gemma. He was going to face the elephant in the room.

  “I did. It will be ready,” she said. “I’m almost done with these recipes. I only have a few more.”

  “You coming to the potluck, Clint?”

  “No, I’m heading home and staying there tonight,” Clint said.

  He left.

  Brandon settled himself on the rocking chair.

  “How’s the cow?” Gemma asked.

  “Much better. She’s eating, and not so fussy,” Brandon said.

  “Glad to hear it. This recipe for stew. Do you really put beer in it?”

  “Usually a dark one. Instead of beef broth. I find it gives the stew more flavor.”

  “I see. I’m taking that one with me. Can’t wait to try it. Too bad we’re going to the potluck, otherwise I would try one more of your recipes.”

  “We can beg off.”

  “No, I’m Jessica’s opening act.”

  “Right.”

  He drummed his fingers on his legs, restless. It was just the two of them now. The afternoon was fading, and soon they would be out the door to the dinner. He had things he could do, some bills to pay.

  None of that seemed important. He just wanted to spend the next half a day naked with Gemma. Then maybe he could say goodbye.

  Her fingers tapped furiously over the keys; he didn’t want to interrupt, but he moved to sit next to her on the couch. His fingers massaged her neck.

  “That feels good,” she said.

  She didn’t stop typing, so he nuzzled her neck. “How many more do you have to type?”

  “Three, and I won’t get them done if you keep doing that,” she said.

  “That was the point.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Gemma’s fingers froze, poised over the keyboard. “The point?”

  “We have an hour before you need to get ready. I’m sure we can think of something more interesting than typing to do for that time,” he said.

  She continued with her typing as one of his hands found her breast. He touched her nipple through her sweater. How could he do that? Guess he was learning to deal with that elephant. And he was taking what he wanted.

  Her fingers faltered. “I need to get this done before I leave.”

  His hands stilled. “Do you have to keep reminding me?”

  “Of what?”

  “That you’re leaving. I know that you’ll be gone tomorrow.” He moved away from her. “I know this. I don’t need you to say it every ten minutes.”

  She looked at him, expecting him to have two heads or demon eyes. Demonic possession would be the only reasonable expectation for his quick change in mood. “I’m not reminding you all the time. I’m just not avoiding the subject like you seem to want to.”

  “That’s right. Gemma’s always the one pointing out what everyone else doesn’t want to talk about. Maybe it’s okay if sometimes people don’t talk about things.”

  “Why? You mad because you aren’t the martyr you thought you were in your marriage. That maybe you were at least a little complicit in the breakup?”

  He shifted further away from her. “What’s that supposed to mean? I was talking about your leaving.”

  “You’ve known all along that I was going to continue down the road. Why is it upsetting now? You were looking forward to getting back to your quiet life,” she said.

  He’d never protested her plans. Why now? It could only be that he was mad at her for clearing the air with Jessica.

  “I am looking forward to it. But now Jessica is around, and my life won’t be quiet.”

  “I didn’t bring her back. Nor did I get her pregnant. She doesn’t have any bearing on my plans. Don’t take this out on me.”

  He leaned his head on the back of the couch. “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. Now let me finish this and we’ll get to your task.”

  He stood, looked at her as if she did have two heads, then strode to the kitchen. “Never mind. Not in the mood anymore.”

  ***

  Why? He could have gotten laid. Most men would be happy wit
h sex without strings. Why was he having such a problem with this by making it more complicated than it needed to be?

  Because his heart felt differently than it had in years. He loved Gemma. He wanted her to stay, but he couldn’t ask her to give up her dream. Especially now with Jessica back and what she’d told him.

  She thought he wouldn’t understand. He had to let Gemma go. He loved her, and this dream was what she wanted.

  He strode back into the living room as Gemma closed her laptop. She held up his flash drive. “Done.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her smile broadened. “Apology accepted. Now take me to bed, cowboy.”

  He couldn’t help but grin. She put the laptop on the coffee table, then reached her arms out to him.

  Scooping her up, he marched into his bedroom. He held her close as she nuzzled his neck, her arms around him. What he wouldn’t give to be able to do this every day.

  But that wouldn’t happen. He’d just have to enjoy her while she was here.

  He put her down on the bed. Her eyes were dark with passion. For him. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like that. He didn’t want to give it up, but knew he couldn’t ask her to give up her dream.

  In time, she’d fade to a sweet memory and his heart would go back behind its walls. For now, he’d just enjoy what she had to offer.

  “Gemma.”

  “I love my name in your mouth,” she breathed.

  He put his body next to hers. Her hands roamed over his body as if feeling it for the first time.

  “We can be slow.”

  “I’d like that,” she whispered.

  Her fingers took care of the buttons on his shirt. Then she put her warms hands on his chest. His nipples came alive. So did his dick. He slid her sweater over her head, revealing a hot pink bra that barely covered her breasts. They clearly wanted to be released.

  “Will they come out and play?”

  She laughed. “Of course.”

  She reached behind her back, and with one hand, flicked the clasp.

  “Neat trick. Where did you learn that?”

  He hoped she didn’t tell him during stripper training.

  “Summer camp. On a bet. I won everyone’s chocolate bars.”

  He laughed. “Well, I enjoyed it.”

  Her bra landed somewhere on the floor. They’d find it later. He’d help her look for it. Right now he had two tits to pay homage to. Her eyes fells closed as he suckled first one then the other. Her groans made him even harder.

  She tasted like ambrosia, a dish he’d never get tired of.

  He sat back, then flicked one nipple with his finger. Her fingers dug into his arms. “Wow.”

  “You like that?”

  “No, I’m faking it. Of course I like that,” she said.

  ***

  Gemma would have liked to stay in his bed forever. With Brandon and his magic hands on her breasts. Here whole body tingled from what he was doing to her.

  Her vision was blurring, and spots appeared in front of her eyes. She had a humming in her ears. She couldn’t have concentrated on anything else if her life depended on it.

  “Don’t stop, Brandon.”

  Then she felt his warm breath waft across her neck. He nibbled at her ear, then her neck. Chills raced down her spine. Each time they made love, they seemed to learn more about each other. Brandon was becoming an expert on her body.

  She’d miss this.

  His mouth went down to her one nipple, and she arched her back to get it closer to him. His tongue ringed a circle around her nipple, before he took it into his mouth. He sucked, then let it loose.

  He clearly was not in any hurry, but her sense of urgency had kicked up a notch. She dug her fingers into his soft, dark hair.

  “Mm,” she said, which all she was capable of at the moment was.

  “So articulate.”

  She couldn’t argue. No words formed in her mouth. Just a groan escaping to his ears.

  Then he moved to her other breast, doing the same, encircling with his tongue. Her nipple popping out of his mouth almost tickled. In a good way.

  “Tasty,” he said.

  His hands moved to her pants, his fingers delving below the waist of them.. She unzipped his, taking him out to play with.

  “Looky what I found.”

  And he was hard. For her. No one else. Just her. His shaft was hard and smooth in her hand.

  “He’s happy to see you.”

  “I can tell,” she said.

  He leaned back, studying her face. He tucked some hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

  She smiled. “You’re hard.”

  “That’s a good thing isn’t it?”

  Her laugh tap-danced out of her. “Of course.”

  ***

  They had an hour. No need to rush this. He wanted memories for his long, cold winter nights without her. Her hand on his dick was heavenly. With gentle strokes, she brought him alive.

  “I’m just about naked. It’s your turn,” he said.

  Helping her out of her pants and panties, he buried his face into her pussy. He loved how she smelled. And she was wet and ready for him.

  But he wanted to give her more. He wanted to give her memories for her long nights in Los Angeles.

  He put her legs over his shoulders and licked. His tongue teased her.

  “Mm.”

  He liked that she reacted. He wanted to have her pliant under him because she couldn’t move from the pleasure. Slow and steady would win this race. He began with his thumb, moving it over her clitoris in a circular motion.

  She wiggled a little. “That’s wonderful.”

  Her back arched, her legs spread a little wider. She became even wetter. Her fingers fisted into the bedspread.

  “Brandon.”

  His name came out of her like whiskey on the rocks. He couldn’t help smiling. When a man spent as much time alone as he did, he had time to think about what he’d do when a woman happened to choose his port in a storm. Or his house in a snowstorm.

  Who would have thought that it would really happen?

  He could see she was getting close. His tongue took over, licking, and he sucked a little. She shivered and became a moving target. He put his hands on her torso to steady her.

  But he didn’t stop licking and sucking. She wiggled as if trying to get away.

  “Oh, God.”

  This was better than his fantasy. He’d remember every noise she made. Every movement and jiggle from her body. She was under his command, and he liked being in control.

  Just a little while longer. She was so close.

  He put on finger into her, stroking gently. She was warm and wet, and he couldn’t wait to get his dick in there. But first she’d have to cum for him.

  Her hands closed and opened, then closed again, grasping the covers. Her wiggling increased. Any minute now, and he wanted it to be her best orgasm ever.

  Her moans and whimpers increased. This one was about her. Making her feel good. He’d have his chance.

  And then her body stiffened. And he knew.

  ***

  Colors exploded behind Gemma’s eyes. She heard a groan and then a scream, and wasn’t sure if those sounds had come out of her.

  If she could have stayed right there, feeling that, she would have. Too bad it had to end. Her body kept twitching from the aftermath. When she could finally open her eyes, Brandon had rested his chin on her stomach.

  “Good?”

  “What the hell do you think?” she gasped.

  He looked proud of himself. Like the cat that drank the cream. She couldn’t move. She wanted to, but she was unable to. Now it was his turn, as soon as she could lift her limbs.

  Why were they not working?

  “I can’t move.”

  Brandon laughed. “That was the goal.”

  “Why?”

  “Something to remember me by.”

  His eyes grew darker, and she could barel
y see them through slit lids. He slid his body up hers, and she reveled in the hardness of it. The hardness of one specific body part.

  As if her pleasure had turned him on. That was an interesting concept. A real man who derived some of his own pleasure from hers. She hadn’t experienced that. She’d been in bed with some experts, but none had been this good. Because the emotion of this situation had been missing.

  Her emotions or her lover’s? She didn’t know. What she did know, as Brandon took possession of her lips, was that she loved him. She chose not to think about that. She chose to be in that moment, enjoying his body and the aftershocks of the best orgasm she’d ever had.

  “Wow.”

  He murmured into her neck. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  He stopped for a moment his gaze laser-focused on her. “Good.”

  Then he slid into her, and she couldn’t think anymore. Which was good, since she didn’t want to think about leaving this man behind. She didn’t want to think about driving the rest of the way across the country. She didn’t want to think about her heart breaking as she left Iowa.

  His pace increased. In and out and pausing once in a while so that she couldn’t anticipate what he would do. Her good leg wrapped around him, but she gave his body freedom to move at will.

  She wanted to rise up and meet his every stroke, but her foot hurt too much. Nor did she want to move her leg from around his waist. A dilemma, but she wouldn’t solve it with her orgasm building again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Brandon watched as her eyes fell closed. Her fingernails dug into his back, and he thought that was the most delicious feeling on Earth.

  Then he knew he was close. Farm report. Hog report. Hog futures. He tried to think about anything but the vibrant woman squirming beneath him. She was close.

  But when he felt her vagina clench, he lost control and pumped into her until he’d emptied himself. His chest heaved as he held himself over her. Her breathing was just as hard. Despite not wanting to leave her, he slid himself out, then rested his body next to her.

  She put a hand on his chest. “That.” Breath. “Was.” Breath. “Wonderful.”

  He couldn’t help smiling. He’d given her what he wanted to give her. And he would have memories for a dark, cold night in the future. He’d remember the feel of her skin. Her nails digging into his back. Her vagina milking him dry. Her scent on his skin.