“Son of a bitch!” The curse hissed through his teeth as the knowledge that she wasn’t wearing panties, hadn’t been wearing panties all night long, slammed through his control.
She raised those honey-gold eyebrows on him and blinked innocently. “Problem?”
“You’re not wearing underpants.”
“I thought you’d figured that out already.”
Hell, if he had he’d have tossed her over the dinner table and fucked her in front of the whole town. “No.”
He slid his hand back along the crease of her ass. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or regretful when he discovered she wasn’t wearing the plug.
It was his turn to raise his brow at her as he stroked her anus.
“Even I have limits,” She said in the prissiest tone he’d ever heard, even as she worked her hips on his cock. He caught her buttocks in his hands, keeping her from taking him.
“Let me make you ready, honey girl. I’m not that hungry.”
“Yes, you are,” she countered, her smile reflecting her satisfaction with the entire situation as she relaxed her muscles.
“And so are you,” Mac uttered in surprise as the crown popped through the tight ring of muscle into the clenching heat beyond.
“Don’t look so shocked,” she moaned as she flexed around him. “I always want you.”
Yes she did. And she held him so tightly, so perfectly, so completely, he could almost believe he could hold her with this alone.
“You do, don’t you?” He cupped her head in his free hand, arching her back so she could take him more comfortably. He sank another inch. God, she was so incredibly tight. “But you are going to have to be especially hungry today, honey girl,” he admitted. “One more minute and I’m gone.”
He expected her to rush at being told that. To pick up the pace. He braced himself to endure, to hold on until she was ready, wanting to give her the equal of what she was giving him.
“It’s okay,” she answered, her eyes as soft as her voice as she cupped his jaw in her palms. Her right hand soft and sweetly giving. The left firm and supporting. Her fingers stroked his cheeks gently as her pussy rhythmically squeezed up and down on his cock. The tenderness, when he expected a passionate fury, brought him teetering to the edge. As he scrabbled for control, she whispered three little words that tore through his defenses.
“I love you.”
He came then, in an agonizing rush, her hand over his mouth smothering his shout of satisfaction. His body bucked under hers, his seed pouring into her as he gave her everything he had. His heart. His soul. His fears. His hope. And as the last drop of come pulsed into her, she leaned her small body against him, as if to shelter him, her hand smothering his moans, protecting them both from detection. She kissed the hollow of his throat with equal tenderness, stroked the corner of his mouth with her thumb, held him as his body shuddered in the aftermath.
“Oh damn, honey girl, I love you, too.”
Even to his own ears it was a pitiful announcement. There was more despair in the declaration than joy. Jessie didn’t get upset. Instead she pulled him closer.
“Trust me, Mac.” She kissed the hollow of his throat with that same protective tenderness. “We’re going to be okay.”
She leaned her head against his chest, and placed her palm over his heart beneath her cheek. “I guarantee it.”
Chapter Thirteen
At precisely 7:30 p.m. three days later, Jessie was a nervous wreck. She’d been gnawing her lower lip all day, and now it felt hot and bruised. She watched as the last of the purloined ranch hands—the ones that were supposed to be out repairing fences—hammered the last nail into the impromptu stage. The wooden structure took up the length of an entire wall of the living room. All the furniture, except two chairs and two small trays had been either shoved against the wall or removed to various parts of the house. The lighting was muted to give the appearance of intimacy. The entry into the dining room had been curtained off. From behind that bright blue curtain came the word she’d been waiting for.
“All set, luv. You can send for the poor chap whenever.” The curtains billowed outward as Coulton stepped through, his six-foot-three-inch frame shown off to perfection in his loincloth. His well-oiled muscles rippled as he let the curtain fall behind him. His face was too earthily masculine, too ruggedly handsome to ever be beautiful, but he was sexy. Even when he frowned suspiciously, like now. “You did say he wasn’t the violent type, right?”
Jessie’s fingers crossed on the lie. “As gentle as a lamb.”
“That’s all right then, isn’t it?”
Jessie just loved the way the English made questions of statements. “Yes. Everything’s all right.” Truth be told, she hadn’t the foggiest if anything was going to be all right, but she had hopes. High hopes that were pinned on the success of this plan in which Coulton figured prominently.
She ran her eyes over Coulton’s legendary body. He resembled a conquering Viking from days of yore. It was hard to believe that he was actually an Earl. She forgot just exactly what his full title really was. For so long he’d just been Coulton, one of her best friends. Besides, with his drop-dead looks and that gorgeous mane of blond hair that flowed to his hips, not to mention his brawny physique, he was much too exotic to think of as a peer of the realm.
A not so subtle “Psst!” from the doorway alerted Jessie to Will’s presence.
“Showtime yet?” he asked, the smile on his face letting her know he couldn’t wait to see how this all turned out.
Neither could she. She wiped her sweaty palms down over the soft knit of her dress as she nodded affirmatively. This just had to work, because if it didn’t, one thing was certain, Mac was never going to forgive her. By tomorrow, the story of tonight’s goings-on would to be all over the state.
Jessie groaned, looking around the room and the still swaying curtain. Maybe she’d gone too far. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d let anger and impulsivity lead her further down the road than she’d intended to go. She made one step in the direction of the curtains when the crunch of booted feet on gravel pulled her up short. She’d know that stride anywhere. Mac.
She should, she’d been listening to it pretty consistently for the last week. Equally recognizable was the anger in every stride. She wasn’t proving as easy to manage as Mac had anticipated, and it was ticking him off royally, as evidenced by their argument last night. Over something as simple as her going out for an afternoon ride!
She shook her head. Mac was either going to loosen up after this, or they just weren’t going to make it. She was never going to be happy in the soft little cocoon he wanted to wrap her in. And he wouldn’t like her if she was. As much as he fought against it, the man got turned on faster than a grease fire by her wild side. And she did so appreciate that about him.
She clenched her muscles around the thick plug embedded in her rear. With any luck, after tonight’s show, she’d be able to use that wild side to finally, finally tempt his gorgeous cock into deflowering her ass. Her knees went weak at the thought. She steadied herself by gripping the back of the chair as her juices gushed. Oh God, she hoped so. Four muted thumps up the steps, and then the footsteps stopped. Jessie could picture Mac standing on the porch, bracing himself for their next encounter. No doubt he was expecting either tears or more angry words. She looked around the altered downstairs. She knew he wasn’t expecting anything like this.
The door opened, and Mac stood in the entryway. He immediately removed his hat upon seeing her, revealing the emotion in his eyes. Jessie sighed. Apparently, he hadn’t decided to just accede to her point of view. Rats. Nothing in this relationship was turning out to be easy.
Mac let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the house after the bright sunlight. He could see Jessie standing over by the archway to the living room. He could only make out her silhouette. She wore something soft and clingy that accentuated the flare of her hips beneath her slim waist. His cock perked up and his p
alms itched to cradle those curves. She’d be soft and full in his palms, the muscles resilient and receptive. Damn, she had the most delightful ass. He swallowed to ease the tension in his throat before asking again, “You needed to see me?”
“Yes,” she answered, her voice humming with a tension he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
He squinted to get a better view and pulled up short.
“What in the blue blazes did you do to my house?” he demanded as he noticed the platform where his couch used to be. “It looks like the set of a high school play!”
Jessie winced. “Rats. It’s supposed to look like a nightclub. Coulton claims that he and the boys can’t perform to their best without the proper atmosphere. And please don’t shout.”
“I’ll shout if I want to. It’s my damn house.” And then, lowering his voice asked, “Who the hell is Coulton?”
“Part of tonight’s entertainment,” she muttered, glancing at the curtain nervously as she came toward him.
“Great,” Mac growled. He would have worried about that “boys”, except there was something in her walk that had him paying closer attention. She had killer legs. Slim, muscular, well-shaped and in those high heels definitely wet dream material, but the heels alone wouldn’t account for the slight off-ness.
He studied her more closely as she held out her hand for his.
“Who is Coulton?” he asked again as he placed his hand in her smaller one.
“A friend.”
“Male?”
She led him across the room, her hips swaying side to side as she drew him along, the soft blue knit hugging her buttocks, the slightest bounce in those full curves as her stride pulled up short catching and holding his gaze.
“Yes.”
“Figures.” She stopped at a small table on which sat highball glasses full of ice and a whiskey bottle. She dropped his hand, turned and motioned him to his seat, shifting her stance wider as she did so and then he knew what was up. A slow smile started deep inside as she frowned at him when he didn’t immediately sit.
Mac took a step forward, crowding her a little as he reached around her to pour whiskey into the glass. “I assume my money paid for this?”
Jessie nodded. This close he couldn’t miss the slight start beneath her skin or the increase in her respiration. He picked up the glass and held it in his hand. The ice in the glass chimed softly as he placed his finger against the too fast pulse in her throat. “Nice of you to provide the amenities.”
“I didn’t.” She grimaced, eyeing his smile warily. “It must have been Will.”
“Remind me to give him a raise.” He kept his finger on her pulse as he met her deep green gaze. “Are you wearing one of your plugs, Jessie girl?”
Her eyes widened and narrowed. She swallowed so hard he lost her pulse, but when he found it again, it was racing double-time, and the blush that started at her chest reached her cheeks in two startled blinks.
He took a step back. “Show me.”
She stared at him with that “deer caught in the headlights” look and blinked again, then, with one nervous glance over her shoulder at the curtains, she slowly turned. There was another hesitation in which he thought he was going to have to repeat himself but then she bent over the low table, bracing her weight on her good arm, her back arched and hips thrust up and back. The image she presented was pure temptation.
Through the knit of her tightly stretched dress he could make out the crease in her buttocks. He traced it through the soft cloth before taking a sip of his whiskey. The liquid burned its way down his throat, the lingering taste bad enough to cut through the worst of his lust, letting him find the patience to gather the soft material up. He slid it over her hips until it pooled at her waist.
She wasn’t wearing any underwear. He let that information sink in as he touched the inside of her foot with his heel. She obeyed the silent command, shifting her feet wider, but not far enough. He tapped her other foot.
“Mac…”
“Show me, Jessie.”
She did. Spreading her legs wider, arching her hips higher so he had a full view of her glistening pussy, the inner lips swelling with her arousal to pass the thick outer ones. He brought the cold glass against that tempting flesh as he touched the base of the plug tucked between her cheeks. She jerked and gasped.
“Careful,” he warned her. “Wouldn’t want to spill my drink, would you?”
Her “No” was choked.
He slid the glass down her vulva until the smooth surface rested above her clitoris. With a couple of wiggles of his wrist, he made contact between the two. She bit off her instinctive cry. From the tilt of her head he could tell she was worried about who was behind the curtain. He kept the chilled glass against her clit as he reached up to trace the rounded rectangle of the plug base.
“Which one did you chose?”
He didn’t give her time to answer, merely slipped two fingers of his other hand under the base and pulled. The resistance was substantial. Her breath came in high-pitched squeaks as her little rosette flattened and bulged. The table wobbled as she cried out again and pulled back, working against him. He leaned over, letting his chest graze her back as he put his glass on the table.
“You’ve been bad, honey girl,” he whispered against her ear, tugging gently on the plug. “You used the biggest one, didn’t you? Even after I told you that you weren’t ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“Uh-huh.” He pulled harder. “I bet it burned like hell going in.”
She nodded. Out of the corner of his eye he could see she was biting her lip. He bet it was burning now as the muscles slowly stretched to open against the pressure he was exerting. “Did you wish I was there, honey girl, when you slid it home? Did you wish it was me pushing it in, giving you that pleasure?”
She whimpered and nodded again. Her muscles parted more. The table rocked and shook with her body as the widest part of the plug forced her open.
He slipped his finger down to her engorged clit and rubbed gently.
“Oh God!” she groaned.
“Shh,” he soothed as he pulled back. “Just relax and let it happen, Jessie. Let me see how much you took.”
The pulsing rhythms of an earthy tune filtered into the room, reminding him they weren’t alone. He sighed and reseated the plug in her tight ass, stroking her clit to soothe her through the moment.
“I think your show is about to go on.” He stayed where he was as she gasped and tried to stand. That gorgeous ass rubbed against his cock. He caught her hips in his hands, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh, and dragged her back and forth against him. Teasing them both with what couldn’t be.
“I hope this is quick,” he told her, his voice nowhere near as unaffected as he wanted.
She ducked out of his grip, shimmying her dress down as she turned around.
Her gaze dropped to his crotch. He knew what she saw. His cock was so hard, he’d break in two if he sat. Her tongue swiped at her lips. Before he could stop her she grabbed his glass off the table and took a quick drink. Her face screwed up in disgust and she wheezed for breath as she held the glass away from her with two fingertips.
“God! That stuff is awful!”
He took his glass back before she could drop it. “That’s what I keep telling everyone.”
Jessie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as if she could remove the taste. With one last shudder she straightened and shook out her arms. “Before we begin, I need your solemn promise that you will remain in your chair until I say the show is over.”
“Interesting rules,” Mac drawled. “Why?”
“Because I asked you to.”
“And that’s supposed to be enough?” They both knew it was so when she rolled her eyes, he shut up, adjusted his jeans and sat.
“Do you promise me?” she asked, hands on hips.
He settled a little deeper into the seat, trying to relieve the pressure on his cock as he watched her fingers fl
ex and straighten. She was nervous. Obviously worried about how he was going to take this. Great. He took a sip of whiskey. “I promise.”
Jessie tilted up her chin and recited from rote. “What you are about to see, Mac, is a test. When it’s all over, you will be questioned, so please pay attention.” Spinning on her heel, she headed across the room.
“Where are you going?”
His question halted her halfway to her chair, which resided at the foot of the stairs leading off the stage. She cast an exasperated glance over her shoulder. “To my seat.”
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