A sight that shouldn’t affect him. After a week together, she was out of his system. His head was on straight, his mind back on business, his future crystal clear.
A soft, familiar sigh quivered in the air and the sound sent a bolt of need through him. A wave of possessiveness rolled through him and burned away reason. He flipped the switch and the bull slowed to a halt. He closed the distance between them in a few quick steps.
At the first touch of his fingertips on her thigh, her eyes fluttered open.
She stared down at him, her eyes bright and feverish. “Is it over already?”
“It’s just getting started.” He reached across her lap and urged her other leg over the bull until she sat sideways, facing him, her lap level with his shoulders. “I’m just getting started.” He shoved the shirt up and spread her legs wide, wedging his shoulders between her knees. “Ah, baby, you’re a natural.” Her slick folds were pink and swollen after her recent ride, and he knew she was close. “You’ve got perfect form.” He touched her, trailed a fingertip over the hot, moist flesh and relished the moan that vibrated from her lips. “So damned perfect.”
There were no more words after that. He hooked her booted ankles over his shoulders, tilted her body a fraction just to give him better access, dipped his head and tasted her sweetness.
She cried out at the first lap of his tongue and threaded her fingers through his hair to hold him close. But he wasn’t going anywhere. This was her first time on the back of a mechanical bull and Jesse intended to make it the wildest, most memorable ride of her life.
He devoured her, licking and sucking and nibbling, pushing her higher and higher and, oddly enough, climbing right along with her. He took his own pleasure by pleasuring her and when she screamed his name and came apart in his arms, the feelings that rushed through him—the triumph and the satisfaction and the warmth—felt as good as any orgasm he’d ever had.
Chemistry, a voice whispered. They were simply good together. That explained her effect on him.
It wasn’t because she was different.
Because she was his one and only.
That’s what he wanted to think. But truthfully, he didn’t just want to hoist her over his shoulder, take her back to the bed and drive deep, deep inside her deliciously hot body until he reached his own climax.
He wanted to curl up with her afterward, talk to her, laugh with her, hold her. He wanted to walk down Main Street, her hand in his, and let the world know that she was his. She always had been.
She always would be.
Need gripped him, fierce and demanding and intense. He gathered her in his arms and started for the office.
“What about your training?” she murmured against his neck.
“It’ll wait.”
* * *
THE MINUTE JESSE pressed her down on the bed, Gracie knew something had changed. There was an urgency, a fierceness about him that she’d never seen before. Tension held his body tight, every muscle taut. His hands felt strong and purposeful and desperate as he ripped off his clothes, spread her legs wide and slid home in one fierce thrust.
“You are the wildest woman,” he growled, resting his forehead against hers for several fast, furious heartbeats. “My woman.”
She didn’t expect the declaration any more than the determination that glittered in his eyes as he stared down at her, into her. And she certainly didn’t anticipate the pure joy that rushed through her.
Before she could dwell on the feeling, large hands gripped her buttocks and tilted. He slid a fraction deeper and all rational thought fled.
The next few moments passed in a frenzy of need as Jesse pumped into her over and over, as if his life depended on every deep, penetrating thrust. His mouth ate at hers, and his touch was greedy and hungry, as if he could no longer control his need for her. As if he’d stopped trying. They joined together on a basic, primitive level unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, and as she stared up into his face at his fierce, wild expression, she knew she’d driven him over the edge. Way, way over.
The realization sent a thrill coursing through her, followed by warning bells. But before she could worry over what the change meant, he slid his hand between them and touched her where they joined, and she went wild with him.
Seconds later she screamed his name for the second time that morning as her climax slammed into her and she shattered in his arms. Another fierce pounding thrust, and Jesse followed her into oblivion, her name bursting from his lips as he spilled himself deep.
“I love you,” he groaned as he collapsed atop her, his arms solid and warm, his body pressing her into the mattress.
I love you.
The words echoed through her head and sent a swell of happiness through her for a full moment before Gracie remembered the last thing, the very last thing, she wanted from Jesse James Chisholm was his love.
Love? He couldn’t... He wouldn’t... No! This wasn’t happening. Not him and her and love.
“I really have to go.” She scrambled from the bed, her heart pounding furiously as she snatched up her clothes in record time. She retrieved her camera from the corral and then Gracie did what any responsible, dedicated community leader would do with a totally inappropriate, sexy cowboy who loved her right at her fingertips.
She ran for her life.
* * *
JESSE LISTENED TO Gracie’s footsteps as she left the training facility and barely resisted the urge to go after her. He wanted to. He wanted to haul ass, toss her over his shoulder and keep her here forever. She was his.
Now and always.
But the thing was, she wasn’t his. Not now. And, judging by the panicked expression on her face when he’d declared his feelings, always seemed pretty far out of the question, too.
Not that she didn’t have feelings for him. She did. She felt the same chemistry. The undeniable attraction. Even the companionship that came with being friends at one time and sharing a history. But love?
Maybe.
But if she did, it wasn’t going to matter. She’d learned to put her feelings second, behind everything and everyone else in her life. She had too many people depending on her, watching her, judging her.
He knew the feeling.
He’d spent a lifetime being the object of everyone’s scrutiny. Hell, he still was. Being escorted out of a bake sale, of all things, proved as much. It testified to the fact that there were folks in town who had no intention of forgetting who he was or what his father had done.
And James Lee and his granddaughters proved there were a few who couldn’t care less about Jesse’s past. A few who accepted him for who he was and what he’d done with his own life. Like Wanda Loftis who worked at the local pizza parlor. Wanda always gave him extra cheese on his pepperoni. A celebrity perk, she’d told him time and time again when he’d offered to pay, only she’d always given him extra cheese even way back when he’d been barely able to scrape together enough money to pay for a small to share with his brothers. And there was Mason Connor, the local pharmacist who’d given him free antibiotic samples that one time when Billy had caught strep back in kindergarten. And Miss Laura, the head waitress at the diner, who had his coffee and a great big smile waiting for him the minute he walked in on Saturday mornings. She’d given him leftovers too many times to count back when his daddy had been alive and food had been scarce. She’d helped him then, and she still had a smile for him when she spotted him now.
The realization sent a rush of warmth through him even though he’d learned a long time ago that the only opinion that really mattered at the end of the day was his own. It was nice to know he had a few supporters in Lost Gun. Friends even.
Which explains why you’re still running away.
The minute the thought struck, he tried to push it back out. He wasn’t running from a
nything. He was burying the past. Making peace. Moving on.
Running.
The truth struck, sticking in his head as he pulled on his clothes, parked his hat on top of his head, and headed outside to his pickup truck.
It was just this side of seven a.m. and he needed to get a move on. He had a meeting with Eli to tie up all the loose ends at the training facility—he’d sold all of his stock except for his one new bull and he needed to make arrangements for the old cowboy to look after it until he made arrangements for transport. That, and he needed to pick up the last few boxes of his stuff still stashed at Pete’s ranch. Afterwards, he was going to head back into Lost Gun and swing by the motel to say goodbye to his brothers. Then it was just a matter of pointing his truck toward the city limits, pressing on the gas and getting the hell out of Dodge.
Once and for all.
He climbed behind the wheel and gunned the engine. It was the first morning of the rest of his life free and clear of his past. His lawyer had several prospective buyers on the list for his dad’s run-down property. Hell, one of them had even made an offer. A damned nice one. Plenty for him to take his share and invest in his very own training facility closer to his spread in Austin. Maybe even buy one clear and outright for himself. Then when his heyday ended as PBR’s number one, he could stop riding and start coaching the up-and-comers. That, or breed his own bucking bulls. He’d entertained that possibility, as well.
Either way, he had a solid plan.
One that had kept him up thinking and planning and dreaming on so many lonely nights.
It just didn’t fill him with the same sense of hope that it once had. There was no rush of excitement. No sense of accomplishment. No flash of impatience to haul ass and never look back.
Instead, Jesse spent the next half hour driving out to the Gunner spread at a slow crawl that had even Martin Keyhole—the ninety-five-year-old owner of a nearby turtle farm—lying on his horn. Sure, Jesse tried to oblige and pick up his speed, but damned if his boot would stay down. There was just too much going on his head.
Because as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stop thinking about Gracie and the town, and the undeniable truth that whether he went after his own training facility or started breeding his own bucking bulls, he could do either of them right here. Even more, he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he did leave, he would be running away from the best thing that had ever happened to him.
16
GRACIE PULLED OUT onto Main Street and took a whopping bite of the extra large fudge brownie she’d just picked up at the local bakery. Her second in less than fifteen minutes. She’d scarfed number one after three cups of coffee and a carob-covered scone from The Green Machine which had done nothing to touch the hunger that ate away inside of her. So she’d caved and walked into the bakery where she’d spent fifteen minutes listening to the clerk, Marjorie Wilbur, complain yet again about the pothole on the corner of Main and Hill Country before taking the rest of her order to go.
She hung a left at the first corner and waited for the rush of satisfaction that always came with even the smallest nibble of her favorite dessert, and the guilt. Especially the guilt. Anything to escape the feelings still pushing and pulling inside of her thanks to Jesse and his declaration.
The heat of the moment.
That’s all it had been. Guys were notorious for it and so it should have come as no surprise. Hell, it was a wonder he hadn’t proposed after the way she’d rocked his world.
That’s what she told herself as she stuffed another bite into her mouth and tried to lose herself in the rich taste of chocolate and the all-important fact that she’d fallen off the wagon in a major way. Not one, but two brownies. She was a loser. A slug. She should feel terrible.
Not excited.
Or happy.
Or anxious to head back to the training facility, throw herself into Jesse’s arms and beg him to take her away with him.
Yeah, right.
She hung a left at the second stop sign and eased onto her street. She had a life here with potholes to fix and a town that depended on her and a sister who needed her.
The minute the thought struck, she noted the familiar red Prius parked in her driveway. Charlie was home.
And Gracie wasn’t.
She stifled a wave of guilt and pulled into the driveway. Stuffing the bakery bag under her seat, she snagged the camera and her purse and climbed out of the car.
“I thought you weren’t coming home this weekend,” she said when she walked into the living room to find her younger sister sitting cross-legged on the couch, her laptop balanced on her knees. The petite blonde, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, wore a Texas Longhorns T-shirt, a pair of sweats and an expression that said you are so busted. “I would have had the blueberry pancakes ready and waiting had I known—”
“I’m not eating pancakes anymore,” Charlie cut in. “Too much processed flour. And I wasn’t coming home this weekend. But you sounded funny when I last talked to you, so I got worried.” She shrugged. “I drove in last night.”
“You were worried about me?”
“You didn’t sound like your usual neurotic self when I told you I wasn’t coming home. No twenty questions about where I was going or what I was doing. No blasting me about being careful. I figured you were sick, but I’m starting to think it might be something else. Or someone else.” A knowing light gleamed in her gaze. “You’ve been out all night.”
“I was working late.”
“I drove by City Hall. I didn’t see your car.”
“I wasn’t at City Hall. I was at the Gunner ranch. I was helping out with the local newspaper. Their photographer is out, so I offered to take pictures at Pete’s wedding for the About Town section.”
Charlie didn’t look convinced. “That would put you home at midnight.”
“I wasn’t tired so I drove over to the all-night movie festival in Milburn county.”
“All-night movies, huh?” Charlie’s fingers moved across the laptop keyboard for a few frantic heartbeats before her gaze narrowed. “The only all-night movie festival in Milburn is Kung Fu Movie Madness at the Palladium.” She eyed Gracie. “Since when did you become a Bruce Lee fan?”
“Are you kidding? I love Bruce Lee.” Gracie sat her purse aside and headed for the kitchen. “He’s super athletic. Listen, I’ve got some fresh fruit if you’re hungry....” Her words trailed off as she headed straight for the refrigerator and tried to ignore the rush of guilt.
“And since when do you take pictures?” Charlie shifted the subject back to the wedding as she followed Gracie into the kitchen. “You don’t even own a camera anymore.”
“Yes, I do. I just don’t use it.”
Charlie gave her a knowing look. “Something’s up with you.”
“Nothing’s up.” Gracie ignored the gleam in her sister’s eyes and busied herself pulling several peaches and a crate of strawberries from the refrigerator. “I was just helping out. It’s my job. I’m trying to beef up my public service presence before the inauguration. Speaking of which, I was planning on getting a new dress, so maybe we can go shopping next weekend—”
“It’s okay, you know.” Charlie leaned on the granite countertop and plucked a ripe strawberry from the container. “It’s high time you got a life.”
“I have a life, thank you very much.” Gracie retrieved a container of yogurt.
“No, you don’t.” Charlie nibbled on the ripe red fruit. “You facilitate everyone else’s life.”
“I’m the mayor.” Gracie set the yogurt on the counter and reached for two bowls in a nearby cabinet. “That’s what I do.”
“No, you’re you.” Charlie pointed the strawberry at her. “That’s what you do. You make sure everyone else is happy and healthy, but you don’t waste five minutes worrying over y
ourself.” The words hung between them for a long moment before her sister added, “You deserve to be happy and healthy, too, you know.”
“I am happy.” And healthy. Or she had been before Jesse’s impromptu declaration and the double dose of brownies. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”
“That’s the thing.” Charlie abandoned the half-eaten strawberry. “I have enough stress. Do you know how much pressure I deal with knowing that your well-being rests on my shoulders?”
Gracie thought of the past twelve years since her brother’s death. “Actually, I do.”
“Then you know it’s not that much fun.” A pleading note crept into her voice. “I was supposed to go with Aubry and Sue to Dallas to go club-hopping, but I bailed on them to drive here because I was worried about you.”
“I wish you wouldn’t have done that.”
“I did it because I know you would do the same for me. I know you love me, Gracie. You don’t have to keep trying to prove it.”
“I just want you to feel it. Every second of every day. I want to be there for you—”
“That’s the thing,” she cut in, “you can’t. Not all the time. Not because you don’t love me, but because that’s the way life is. It’s a bitch sometimes and there are moments when things don’t always pan out. I’m going to have to stand on my own two feet eventually. All by myself. Alone. That doesn’t mean I’m lonely, but you are. Which is why I was thinking that we could sign you up for one of those online dating sites. A friend of mine’s mother did it and she has a date every Saturday night—”
“Charlie, I’m not lonely.”
“You went to an all-night Bruce Lee festival,” Charlie pointed out. “You’re beyond lonely. You’re just this side of depraved. You need a man.”
“Just because I don’t have a man doesn’t mean I’m lonely or depraved. I’ve got an entire town to keep me company.” She eyed the dog wagging at her feet. “And Sugar, too.”
Texas Outlaws: Jesse Page 15
