Montana Promises

by Law, Kim

  He didn’t say anything else for a moment, the back of his nose burning with tears that wanted to come out. But he didn’t let Megan see his tears. Just his guilt.

  However, when she pressed a kiss right over his heart and wrapped her arms tight around his waist, he couldn’t keep in two lone drops that slid down his cheeks.

  “I sat at the diner mad at the man that morning, Megan. Mad and ready to leave Birch Bay because no one here needed me. And I should have forced him to go get help. I should have taken the damned tractor key away from him and never let him get on it again. Because I knew, dammit. I knew something was wrong. But I was too damned worried about my own feelings to care.”

  * * *

  Megan stood with her arms around Nate until his heart rate slowed back to a normal range, and when she lifted her head to peer at him, he seemed to be all out of words. Instead, he stared back at her with need in his eyes. It seemed to be a combination of needing her to not think too badly of him, while also needing her to hold on tight. So, she did both.

  Reaching up, she gripped his face and brought it down to hers, and after she’d put all the feeling and the comfort she could into a single kiss, she turned and led him the rest of the way up the hill.

  Cabin 10 sat waiting the farthest from them, and she could see a dim light coming from inside. There weren’t any light fixtures installed yet, but he’d clearly brought out something to keep them from being in the dark tonight. And when they reached the cabin and she led him inside, her heart melted at what she found. Six fake candles sat glowing around the living room floor, with the blow-up mattress positioned inside them. A cooler had been brought into the room, as well, and when she peeked inside, she found the promised champagne—on ice—and strawberries. She then turned to the man who was the last person she’d ever thought she’d want to be with.

  “Make love to me, Nate.” She pulled her sweatshirt over her head. “Make love to me like you’ve never done to another woman before.”

  Her request seemed to be all he’d been waiting for, as he put his hands to her sides. He didn’t move fast, though. Instead, everything about him said that he intended to linger. His fingers trailed slowly over her ribs as his hands slid upward. And as they reached her breasts, the pad of a lone finger slid, first, along the edge of the lace covering her left breast, then repeated with her right. A shiver tingled through her as that same finger dipped between her breasts, its rougher texture a distinct contrast to the plump flesh on either side of it, and then that finger curled into the front material of her bra, right between the underwires, and he tugged. Her chest bumped against him, and her breath got stuck in the back of her throat.

  “Meg,” he whispered her name, his eyes hot liquid pools of blue, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Yes?” she breathed out.

  “Thank you.” His palm cupped her cheek, the heat of it reaching inside her until it touched her all the way to her toes. “For sharing the hard things with me earlier. For letting me share with you.”

  She nodded, unable to find words.

  “And thank you for trusting me like this. For giving me a chance.”

  “Giving us a chance,” she corrected, and he nodded.

  “Us,” he agreed. Then he went back to worshipping her body.

  His hand, fingers splayed wide, slid down over her throat, causing her to arch away from him so he had better access, and her heart thudded behind her breastbone as both hands passed along the outsides of her breasts. Every place that he touched turn to fire.

  “I want to take my time,” he admitted. Both hands dragged down and slid around to her back. “But the longer I touch you”—he lifted her so she was flush with his body—“the harder it becomes to go slow.”

  She wound her arms around his neck. “It feels like going slow isn’t the only thing that’s hard,” she teased, and one corner of his mouth tilted up. His length jutted into her abdomen, leaving her with the kind of ache that instantly pooled in her jeans. “Let’s forget about slow.” She nipped at his neck, her breasts aching to be touched. “Slow can be so overrated.”

  He shook his head back and forth. “Slow . . . savoring . . . showing you what this means to me . . .” He brought his mouth to hers and captured it, exposing his desire in the greedy way he took control. “We need slow this first time, Meg. We need no mistakes that this isn’t only sex. For either of us.”

  She had to agree. So, they continued with slow.

  He picked up her, her legs draping over one of his arms, then stepping around the candles, he gently placed her in the middle of the mattress. Then he settled in beside her. Unfastening her jeans, he reached for the pull of her zipper, and though she felt vulnerable lying there before him, she didn’t dare move. Instead, she watched him as he undressed her. And she knew that this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

  The slide of her zipper sounded loud in the room, with the only other noise that of their breathing. She lifted her hips as he tugged at the material.

  She had the urge to rush him, then. Screw slow. She wanted the man stripped and naked, and both of them stretched out together. She wanted him plunging deep inside her.

  Instead, he remained determined. He bared her cream-colored bikini panties, his thumbs skimming over the lace just as the denim slid away. The tops of her thighs were next. Then her calves. And finally—after yanking off her boots with little more than quick jerks of the laces and a grip of the heels—he dragged the denim over her feet. Then he rose and stood above her, tall and proud, and simply gazed down.

  “You’re beautiful, Meg. As beautiful as I knew you would be. Both inside and out.”

  “I’m also feeling at a slight disadvantage,” she murmured. Her hands shook when she lifted them, intending to reach out and beg him to come to her, so she dropped them back to her sides. He’d been right. Slow could be good. As well as both of them knowing that this was definitely more than sex.

  But Lord, she was going to explode if he didn’t pick up a little speed soon.

  “Make love to me, Nate,” she pleaded. “Come back down here. Touch me. Let me touch you.”

  “We’re about to.” His voice had gone tight, and she could see that his restraint was truly being tested. “I just need to decide where I want to touch you first.” So, she helped him with his decision.

  She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Then she tossed it to the floor.

  “Awww, Meg.” His gaze latched on to her chest. “That’s not playing fair at all.”

  “And I told you before. I play to win.”

  He nodded and dragged his gaze back to hers. “I guess I should have known better.”

  He went into motion then, pulling his own sweatshirt over his head, leaving his hair mussed and standing on end. Then he quickly shed his jeans. Two seconds later, he was back beside her. The heat from his bared limbs touched her. His mouth crashed into hers. And when one large hand finally slid up her belly and circled her breast, she sobbed out a sigh of relief.

  “I want to worship every inch of you,” he mumbled against her mouth before trailing his lips along her jawline. “I want to take my time and touch and explore.” He flicked her nipple with his thumb and kissed her behind the ear. “I want to leave you boneless before I even begin to make you come.”

  But then his mouth suddenly took its worship to where his thumb played at her breast, and the unexpected move had her back straining off the mattress.

  “Nate!” His name burst out of her as little more than a whisper, and then his teeth gently tugged at her nipple.

  “Yes, dear?” He was enjoying his torture way too much.

  “It’s already too late,” she told him. She ached everywhere, but mostly between her legs. “You may not have meant to, but you’re already about to make me come.”

  His head lifted from her then, and a smug gleam shone down from sexy blue eyes. And she knew . . . he’d definitely meant to. He slid a leg over her thighs and rose u
p above her. “Will you come if I touch you?” His hands grasped either side of her panties and pulled them down. “Or do I need to put my mouth on you first?”

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

  Then it lowered to where his erection remained hidden behind his boxers.

  “I guess that depends on how long you can hold out.” She exposed him, his long length standing at full attention, and taking him into her hand, she stroked up and down. She was already lost in the feel of the silky hardness against her palm as she rose up, seeking out his mouth. They met in the middle, lips fused, tongues dueling, and though she both wanted to get her mouth on him and his on her, that wasn’t what she wanted at the moment.

  What she wanted was him inside her.

  And she wanted it now.

  “There’s a backpack behind your head,” he said as he pulled away. “I have condoms in there.”

  He stretched out over her, fumbling with the zipper of the bag, and she nipped at his own nipple that now hovered above her.

  “Meg,” he groaned. “I just need a—”

  “You need to be inside me,” she demanded. “And if you’re clean . . .”

  He went still. Then lifted up far enough so he could look down at her.

  “Well . . .” She offered a tiny smile. “I’m just saying that I’m clean. And I’m also on the pill.” She’d never quit taking them since she’d broken up with Jaden. And she hadn’t been with anyone else in over four years.

  She suspected similar thoughts were going through Nate’s head at that very moment, and she held her breath, slightly worried that the reminder of who she’d been with before might slam on the brakes. It didn’t, though. Instead, he dropped the backpack and slid back down next to her.

  “You’re sure?” he asked. He stroked a finger along the curve of her cheek, and she could see the honor that she’d allow that written in his eyes. “You’d let me do that? You’d trust me?”

  “I do trust you.”

  He looked down the length of her body, his fingers whispering over her from chest to thigh. “I’m clean, too,” he promised. “And I’ve never been with a woman without that kind of protection.”

  Now she felt honored.

  “Then make love to me, Nate.” She brought his hand to her mouth and kissed his palm. “Now. Make love to me and show me that this isn’t just sex.”

  He nodded, but before he did anything else, he kissed her again. And the kiss was long and drawn-out, and it showed her all the things this night was about. It held trust and respect. Passion and need. And it held hope. It was bursting wide open with hope.

  Then Nate’s body covered hers again, and while still kissing her, he slid deep inside her. He waited for a moment, neither of them in a hurry to move. And when those first waves of pleasure began to subside and they were both ready for more, they started moving as one.

  Their earlier pace returned, neither of them in a hurry for this first time to end, and they took their time worshipping each other. They each touched, kissed, and pleasured the other until both coiled tight with the need for release, and when it finally happened, Megan noted that Nate’s arms held her as tightly as hers held him.

  They clung to each other until their breathing calmed, then Nate dropped his forehead to her shoulder.

  “Did I already say thanks for that?” he murmured.

  She let out a soft laugh. “I think I’m the one who needs to be saying thank you.”

  “No.” He shook his head, but he didn’t lift it so she could see him. “It’s me. Trust me.”

  He didn’t say anything else, and neither did she, and a couple of hours later she woke, realizing they’d remained wrapped in each other’s arms. She looked up at him. He’d rolled to his back, and she’d curled into his side. And she found him watching her.

  “Did you not sleep?” she asked.

  “I did. Someone drained me, and I passed out like a baby.”

  That made her smile. “Want to be drained again?”

  He barked out a laugh before hugging her tight. “I absolutely do. But first, let’s have some food. We skipped the strawberries and champagne earlier, you know? And there’s also cheese and summer sausage in there.”

  “Ah, yes, the seduction scene.” She pushed up off him, and it suddenly occurred to her they were in a cabin with no installed bathroom fixtures. “I don’t think the seduction was required,” she teased.

  “Still”—he reached for the backpack that rested at the head of the bed—“I hope you appreciate the effort.” Pulling out a button-down shirt and a flashlight, he handed them over. “Your ‘robe,’ my dear.” He announced the intended purpose of the shirt that would hang to her thighs. “And your flashlight to find the porta-pot.”

  Understanding dawned. The man had thought of practically everything.

  He rummaged in the bag again and pulled out a pack of disposable wet washcloths, and her prior thought changed. He’d thought of everything.

  “I also came out earlier with a disinfectant spray and cleaned the damned porta-pot. Guys are disgusting, in case you weren’t aware. I couldn’t have you using that.”

  She laughed as he shuddered with the memory, the sound loud and clear, and slipped into her “robe.” “You’re sweet, Nate Wilde. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  He winked at her. “I think I’m just infatuated.”

  “Either one, I’ll take it.” She gave him a kiss before rising and pulling on her boots, and as she made her way in the moonlight to the blue porta-pot, she stopped and looked back.

  That definitely hadn’t just been sex in there. Not for either of them. And though, on the one hand, the mere idea of that scared her senseless—because the last thing she needed was to fall head over heels for a guy already on his way out of town—on the other hand, whatever it was had a life of its own, and she didn’t know if she could stop it if she wanted to.

  What a surprise Nate was turning out to be. And whatever this was, she’d take it one day at a time.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The gauzy haze of pre-dawn light filtered through the uncovered windows in the small room early the next morning, and Nate lay on the low mattress, Megan tucked in at his side, and stared at the unfinished ceilings. The night had been more perfect than their day. And he couldn’t imagine letting this woman go.

  At the same time, how was he supposed to go to his brother and tell him that he was falling for her?

  He couldn’t. It was that simple. At least not yet. It was possible this was just post-sex glow, and that things weren’t really as good as he thought. So, no need to rock any boats within his family just yet. He’d see what Megan thought about the whole situation, and then they’d go from there.

  But when he turned his head to catch a glimpse of her sleeping, he saw that she’d already awakened and was watching him. And she looked as gobsmacked as he felt.

  “Morning,” he rumbled. God, he wanted to make love to her again. The three times the night before hadn’t been nearly enough.

  “Morning,” she repeated. Then she turned into his body, and all of her nakedness pressed against all of his, and he couldn’t think about anything but putting his hands back on her.

  She rolled on top of him before he could so much as offer a good-morning kiss and positioned herself over him, and in a matter of seconds, he was once again sliding inside her.

  “Ahhhh.” He couldn’t hold in the groan. She was so wet this morning.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asked as she set them on a slow pace.

  “I slept like a man who’d had a night of exceptional sex.” His fingers dug into her hips, and he held on.

  “Funny,” she breathed out. She leaned forward, her neck arching back, and her breasts swung in front of him. “I slept like a woman who’d had the same.”

  Her slow, steady rhythm was rapidly destroying him.

  He strained upward, reaching for a beaded nipple, but managed nothing more than a hard swipe of his tongue across one t
ip. That brought her gaze to his.

  “I love your mouth on my breasts,” she told him, and then she angled a shoulder down so he could catch one in his mouth. His teeth closed around a nipple, and her inner muscles clenched around him. “I also love the feel of you inside me.” She moaned as her rhythm picked up, and her movements became more intense. “Don’t stop what you’re doing, Nate.” She rode him hard then, her breast still in his mouth, her whole body tense. “Don’t . . . oh . . .”

  Her hands pressed into the wall behind them, her breast coming free and both of them swinging unencumbered, and her body ground into his. Bringing a hand up, he caught her other breast and pulled it to his mouth, and when he sucked hard, her lower back arched.

  “Nate!”

  She came apart in his arms then, her body shaking with need and with release, and he quickly followed her over the edge. And when both of them were spent, when there wasn’t an ounce either of them had left to give, she collapsed onto his chest. And as he had when he’d first opened his eyes ten minutes before, he stared at the unfinished ceiling.

  “Oh. My. God.” He moaned the words out as much as saying them, but good Lord, that was a way to wake up.

  “Ditto,” she said from where her face lay buried in his chest.

  They remained there for several more minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths, and when she finally propped her elbows onto his chest and offered him a heart-melting smile, he knew that the day was going to come that he’d have to tell his brother he was dating his ex.