Bad News Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  Her face turned the same shade of scarlet as her mouth from her perfect, beautiful cleavage up to her hairline. He’d gone too far, and he knew it. But he felt compelled to push. Maybe because he thought if he did, she would back out. Except when he really thought about it, that made no sense. Kate Garrett had never backed out of anything. And presenting a challenge would only make her push back harder.

  Maybe that was the real reason he was doing it.

  “If you want it, come over here and get it. It seems like I kiss you an awful lot, Monaghan. A girl doesn’t like to feel like she’s the one doing all the chasing.”

  “She says with her two weeks of experience.”

  She tilted her head, a familiar stubborn set to her jaw. “I know what I like. I know what I want.”

  He felt his lips curve upward into a smile as he continued to slowly work his belt, tug it through the loops on his dress pants before undoing the ridiculous hooks that held them closed, drawing the zipper down and pushing them onto the barn floor, kicking off shoes and socks along with them. They would be dirty. Very obviously so. But he didn’t care.

  He pressed his hand over his hard, heavy erection. “You want this?”

  “Yes.” There was no hesitation, none at all.

  “Good.” He quickened his pace, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arm around her waist, cupping her chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking deep into her dark eyes, searching for any sign of fear, of potential regret. There was none of that. There was nothing but need, a desire that burned as bright as his own.

  It didn’t surprise him. In some ways Kate’s insides matched his own. Wild, fierce.

  A bit too bold. A bit too reckless.

  Just one of the many reasons that the moment attraction had begun to spark between them, there was only one place it could end. Neither of them knew how to back down. He should have seen that from the beginning. Should have seen that this was the only place it would ever end.

  “If I had known a dress would make a man look at me like this, I would’ve started wearing them a long time ago,” she said.

  “When was the last time you wore a dress besides today?”

  “Never. At least, not that I can remember. They’ve always seemed pretty useless to me.”

  Arousal burst through him like an electric jolt. “They have their uses. They have their conveniences.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Let me show you.” He bent his head and kissed her neck, embraced the roar of satisfaction that rocked him as she shivered beneath his lips.

  “I didn’t expect that.”

  “This will be the only time I surprise you tonight.” He kissed a line along her jaw to her chin and from there to her lips. He thought his heart was going to burst, thought he might come on the spot, just from the taste of her, from the feel of her slick tongue sliding against his own.

  He could feel her perfect little breasts pressed up against his chest. He was going to taste her again. And suddenly, he couldn’t wait. He broke their kiss, lowering his head and tracing the deep V of her cleavage with the tip of his tongue. She’d worked some kind of voodoo magic with this dress, and he wasn’t complaining at all.

  A rough, hoarse cry escaped Kate’s lips and satisfaction rolled over him in a wave.

  “Do you know what I like about dresses?” he asked, his voice almost unrecognizable to his own ears. It was broken, rough. Not the voice of a man who was used to casual hookups, not the voice of a man who treated sex like something easy and fun. It was the voice of a man who was desperate, close to shattering.

  “They let your man parts breathe?” Kate asked, each word punctuated by a heavy breath.

  He let out a laugh. “Try again.” He moved his hand down between her thighs, reaching beneath the soft, flowing skirt, tracing the edge of her panties where they met her inner thigh, slowly, teasing them both.

  “Oh. Oh!” She gasped sharply as he delved deeper, encountering sweet, slick wetness that let him know just how much she wanted him.

  “Easy access,” he said, pushing deeper, sliding a finger into her tight passage.

  She raised her hands and gripped his shoulders, clinging to him tightly, her fingernails digging into his skin. “Yes, Katie.” She clung harder, pain burning through him at the point where she held him. “Leave a mark, baby.”

  He brushed his thumb over her clit and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his collarbone before parting them and biting down. The intensity of the sensation sent a white-hot flame burning a trail from his shoulder down to his dick. He’d never been into this kind of thing before, but for some reason, with Kate, everything felt good. More was only better.

  “You’re so wet for me, Katie,” he said, pushing a second finger deep inside of her. “I love that you want me so much.”

  “I do. Only you.” Her words were broken, a sweet sob that soothed wounds deep inside of him.

  “I’m the only one that’s ever touched you like this,” he said, not a question, because he knew. Still, she answered with a nod, her bottom lip clenched tight between her teeth. “The only one who’s kissed you. The only one who’s been inside of you.”

  “Yes,” she said, breathless.

  “You have no idea how fucking hot that is. And it shouldn’t be. I should be disgusted with myself for taking advantage of you. But I’m not. Because that first kiss was mine. This is mine,” he said, pushing his fingers deeper, sliding his thumb in a circle over her clit.

  “I’m glad it was you,” she panted.

  He withdrew from her body, slid to his knees, shoved her dress up over her hips and wrenched her panties down her thighs. “Spread your legs for me,” he said. She complied without argument. “You’re much nicer to me when you’re naked.”

  “Well, you’re nicer to me when I’m naked, too,” she said.

  He chuckled, leaning in, inhaling her sweet, musky feminine scent. “Very true. So beautiful.” He took a long leisurely taste of her, enjoying everything. Her flavor, the way her body shuddered beneath him, her fingernails going back to his shoulders, digging into his skin.

  He tasted her as deeply as he could, relishing the evidence of her arousal, taking each and every cry of pleasure on her lips as his due. His reward. He continued on until she froze, until he felt her climax wash over her, sending his own arousal up another notch until he was so hard it hurt.

  He stayed down there on his knees, one hand cupping her ass. “What do you think about dresses now?”

  “They are a lot more practical than I imagined,” she said, her voice thin, breathy.

  Never in all his life had he thought he would say things like this to Kate Garrett. Never once had he imagined he would hear her familiar voice sounding out her climax, hear her speak to him in the aftermath of her pleasure.

  He’d never imagined it, but now he wondered how he’d ever lived without it.

  “Stand up,” she said, her voice stronger now.

  “You think you’re giving orders now?”

  “Stand up. And show me your—” she swallowed “—cock.”

  He wasn’t about to say no to an order like that. He rose to his feet, carefully removed his underwear and kicked them to the side. They would be full of hay and dirt just like his pants and he honestly didn’t care.

  “It’s my turn,” she said, her eyes locked with his.

  She reached out, wrapping her hand around his dick. His breath hissed through his teeth, fire lashing over him, so hot, so destructive he was sure it would consume him.

  “I didn’t get to touch you last time. Not like this.” She squeezed him, her expression full of wonder. Wonder he sure as hell didn’t deserve. But wonder he was most definitely going to take. “You’re so hard. Big.”

  That kind of thing shouldn’t turn him
on. But it did. Normally, that was just a line. Thrown out to boost a guy’s ego. But Kate meant it. That did things to him, touched things that went a whole lot deeper than ego.

  She lowered herself slowly down in front of him and he had the suspicion that somewhere along the way, between when he had stood up and she had begun to kneel down, they had traded experience. Because he was the one shaking now; he was the one left in wonder of what might happen next.

  Then right in front of him, his darkest, dirtiest fantasy, the one he had indulged in at his best friend’s wedding, began to play out in front of him. He raised his hand, cupped her face, slid his fingers back through her hair. He didn’t want to guide her actions, didn’t want to direct her. Kate was the fantasy. It wasn’t about a woman going down on him and giving him pleasure. That was generic. Nice under some circumstances, certainly, but generic. He wanted to know how Kate would do it.

  She parted her lips slowly, then flicked out the tip of her tongue and tasted him. Instinctively, he tightened his fist in her hair, pulling up as she went down. She looked up at him, a smile curving her lips. And he knew right then and there he would never be able to pull on Kate Garrett’s hair in that playful way he’d done for years without remembering this moment.

  It didn’t seem fair that a few stolen moments could obliterate years’ worth of history, but he had a feeling it could. Could and had. Or maybe obliterate was the wrong word. Maybe it was more like mixing two handfuls of sand. One that represented their past and one for this.

  Put them both together in a jar, and you would never be able to separate the two again. They would be mixed forever.

  Though right at this moment, with Kate’s tongue sliding over his length, he couldn’t imagine why he would want to. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out everything but the way she felt. His knees nearly buckled when she opened her mouth and took him in as deep as she could. It wasn’t all that deep, her movements hesitant. He could tell this was her first time doing this.

  Why did that make it hotter? Why the hell did that make it sexier than anything else he’d ever experienced?

  It was Kate. And she was doing it all for him. Well, for her, too.

  And that was the answer to his question.

  She reached up, taking hold of the base of his shaft, squeezing him tight while she kept working her own strange kind of magic with her lips and tongue.

  His thigh muscles were shaking, the joints in his knees turned to liquid. He was having trouble standing. Having trouble hanging on to his control.

  He opened his eyes and looked down, his eyes meeting Kate’s. It was as if all the air had been pulled from his body, and along with it every bit of restraint.

  “Stop,” he rasped, the word weak and ragged.

  She moved away from him, the color high in her cheeks, her expression full of confusion.

  “I have you again,” he said. “We’re not finishing like this.”

  “Do you have a...condom?”

  Shame lashed him with the force of a whip. Because he did and he was far too aware of why.

  “Yes.”

  Thankfully, she didn’t question it. He abandoned her for a moment, going after his pants, his wallet and the condom he’d placed inside just this morning.

  He looked back at the barn door, which he had closed behind them, a bit of unease gripping his throat. Guilt. Because you should feel guilty, you prick.

  He did feel guilty. About a few things. But not guilty enough to stop.

  He strode back across the empty space to Kate. He grabbed hold of her waist and propelled them both deeper into the back of the barn, beneath the hayloft, behind the ladder. “Give us a little warning in case we get interrupted,” he said, then kissed her deeply.

  Her eyes widened. “We won’t, will we?”

  “We don’t have to do this.”

  She grabbed hold of his shoulders and tucked him toward her, moving them both backward until she was up against the barn wall. “Yes. Yes, we do.”

  She kissed him again and he just let himself get lost in it.

  He tore the condom open without breaking the kiss and used one hand to roll it over his cock before shifting their positions. He put one hand on her side, pulling her leg up over his hip, opening her to him, while he held tightly to her with the other arm, bracing her against him, trying to shield her from the rough wood as best he could while he pushed in deep.

  White spots exploded behind his eyelids, pleasure so acute it was almost pain as her tight, wet heat surrounded him. His mind was blank. Of any previous experience, any other women, anything else but what it was like to be inside her.

  He forced himself to open his eyes, to meet her gaze, to watch her face so that he could be certain he was doing it right. He had no other way of knowing. He was lost at sea right now, any and all skill he might have claimed to possess completely forgotten in the moment.

  He flexed his hips and coaxed a small sound of pleasure from her. He repeated the motion, his movements growing more frantic with each and every thrust. He did his best to keep his focus on her, on her responses, on her pleasure. Because if he didn’t, if he let go, he was going to lose it before she did.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that. But experience didn’t matter. Whoever had come before didn’t matter. They weren’t Kate. This was Kate.

  So he had to hold on. Had to hold on until she let go.

  He moved one hand to her breast, sliding his thumb over her nipple as he bent his head to kiss her neck. Both actions made her moan with pleasure, sending a kick of satisfied desire through him. “Is that good, Kate?”

  He felt her nod, her hold on him tightening as he moved deeper, harder inside of her, pinching her nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger as he did. “Good?” he asked again.

  Again, he got a silent nod.

  “Say it. Tell me it’s good,” he said, repeating the action.

  “Yes. Yes, it’s good.” The words sounded torn from her.

  And before he could stop them, stereotypical, asinine words he’d never uttered in his life spilled out of his mouth. “Say my name when you tell me it’s good,” he said, an edge of desperation there that he couldn’t fathom.

  And she complied without hesitation. “Jack. It’s good, Jack.”

  He lost it then, pressing her firmly against the barn wall, any rhythm, any finesse to his movements, gone completely. “Kate,” he ground out, “come for me.”

  He was begging now, because he didn’t have it in him to hold back. Not anymore.

  And with her name on his lips, she gave it all up to her release, her internal muscles tightening around his cock. His mind went blank, his world reduced to the slick hot feel of her, the sensation of her pleasure around him. Her soft skin beneath his fingertips, her breath in his ear. If there was anything else in the entire world, he didn’t know about it, and he didn’t care about it.

  His climax seized him like a wild animal, tearing at him, threatening to consume him. And he let it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  AS THE FOG of pleasure receded, Kate couldn’t help but wonder if she would be wearing the evidence of this encounter on her skin for the next few months. It had all been fine and dandy during the main event, but now she was afraid she had splinters the size of tenpenny nails driven deep into her back. And she was feeling it.

  Of course, she supposed that could be a metaphor for every sexual encounter she’d had with Jack.

  It seemed like a good idea at the time...

  She winced as she pushed away from the wall, watching Jack dress slowly, the contraception discarded somewhat haphazardly in a little hole he’d made in the dirt floor. She felt as if she’d been scrubbed down with poison oak, the burning and itching on her skin getting worse with each passing moment. And along wit
h that was a growing sense of dread. Because she knew that any moment now Jack was going to turn to her and tell her what a giant mistake they had made.

  Though that was probably a bit confrontational for him. Maybe he would just take off again. Flee into the night and leave her naked in the barn by herself.

  He pulled his shirt over his head and straightened, looking at her and frowning.

  Here it came...

  “Why are you looking at me like you want to stab me clean through with a pitchfork?” he asked.

  “I’m not,” she sniffed, turning to the side to see if she could find her panties, doing her best to right her dress.

  “Holy shit,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Your back.”

  She reached around and touched her shoulder blade, wincing when she came into contact with a splinter. “Yeah.”

  “You should have said something.”

  She let out an exasperated breath. No real surprise—he was trying to tell her what to do. “I was too focused on getting what I wanted. I wasn’t really bothered by it.”

  “But you are now.”

  “If you try and use this as a teachable moment regarding the heat of the moment and certain consequences, I’m going to knee you in the balls.”

  His dark brows shot upward. “I need those. If you want to keep enjoying what we just did.”

  “What do you mean, keep enjoying?”

  “We tried ignoring it. We tried going back to normal. It didn’t work. From where I’m standing, that wasn’t enough to take care of it.”

  She squinted. “By take care of it you mean...”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  Her throat ached. “You really want me, Jack? I mean, you want me?”

  He let out a long, slow breath. “Do you have to ask? After all of that, you have to ask? I can’t control myself around you.”