A Baby for the Texas Cowboy

by Sinclair Jayne

  What if she could never give him more?

  “Then I need to work harder,” he said, his breath warming her. “I’m all in, Tinsley. I’m committed to making us work.”

  She swallowed the impulsive words that sprung into her mouth.

  She wasn’t ready to promise him anything. She might never be. And Anders deserved so much better.

  “Let’s get some rest,” he said into the fraught silence.

  “I’m not tired,” she whispered.

  “Me neither.”

  “But you’re injured,” she reminded him.

  “Baby, I am never, ever going to be that injured.”

  “Really?” She reached out, and her hand brushed the tip of his erection that strained against his boxers. “Time to lose your newfound modesty.”

  She scooted back down on her tummy, her face inches from his lap, and eased off his boxers and tossed them over her shoulder. She breathed warm air against his cock that jerked and strained toward her.

  “That’s better.” She might not be able to give him her heart or her life, but she could give him this.

  The sound he made when she sucked him deep with little prelude loosed an arrow of liquid heat straight between her thighs.

  Tinsley worked him with her tongue and mouth and wiggled out of her tank and leggings fast, tossing them behind her also.

  Anders moaned when she gently cupped his balls and massaged with one hand.

  “I want to touch you,” he whispered, his voice dark and thick with longing.

  “Later,” she murmured, and then humming with pleasure, she began to lick his length with the flat of her tongue and then engulf him with her mouth. His moans of pleasure and guttural encouragement only cranked up the heat between them.

  “I want to be able to see you,” Anders said. “I love to watch you.”

  Smiling, she reached out and flicked on a red and gold blown-glass night-light she’d bought on one of their trips. She loved the way the colors played over their bodies—light and shadow.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He reached for her.

  She shook her head. “This is your turn,” she said.

  “Then come over here.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to be so bossy.” She pushed his hard chest back against the pillow, and then straddled his powerful legs, remaining on her knees so that she was above him.

  She continued to caress his engorged cock with one hand while sliding one finger along her slick folds. She whimpered as she stroked her clit, pretending Anders was touching her. She loved the way his fingers and mouth were so sure, but it was a total aphrodisiac to touch herself and him while he watched. He looked nearly drunk with pleasure. She felt drunk—better than any whiskey she ever poured or tasted, including Four Wolfs.

  That statement would not cut it on any marketing brochure.

  Smiling, she began to rock against her hand, speeding her movements a little, alternating flicking her finger against her clit and then stroking it. She used her own juice to rub on his tip and then followed with a leisurely lick.

  “Want to taste?”

  His hands white-knuckle gripping the sheets, he nodded.

  Tinsley dipped one finger inside of herself and then pulled it out, stroked it over her lips and bent down to kiss him.

  His mouth was hungry—moving over hers. One hand gripped her ass and pulled her more tightly to his body.

  “Careful,” she whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Her gaze assessed his battered left side.

  “Not being inside you is killing me.”

  Tinsley angled her body so that her folds rubbed up and down his cock, and she traced a figure eight with her body, moving her hips back and forth over him, and the hard points of her nipples teased his chest.

  “Condom,” he hissed.

  “I don’t have any.”

  “Duffel bag.”

  She slid down his body, licking him once again, and then hopped off the bed, returning with his duffel and leather toiletry bag.

  “I haven’t been with anyone else since you,” she confessed.

  “Me neither.”

  “Really?” She pulled out he square and opened it with her teeth. “I just had an exam—duh.” He’d been there.

  “I’m due. I’ll schedule it.”

  Tinsley laughed, amazed her brain still worked to that extent. Her blood roared in her ears. Somehow, she felt like she and Anders were taking the next step. Jumping without a net.

  He reached for her again, and she grabbed his wrists in one hand and stretched them above his head.

  “Does that hurt?” It was silly, really, to think she could hold him, but the heat in his eyes made her want to try.

  “This is a new side of you.” He sounded dazed. “So hot. I love it.”

  She hesitated at the L word. No, not her. Just what she was doing. She rolled the condom over his tip and, holding on to it, she seated herself as she rolled the condom down.

  Anders’ gritted swear word and moan brought her to the brink of an orgasm, but she wanted to hold on. She wanted to build the flames for both of them.

  “Remember, I’m in charge.” She nipped his ear.

  “You’re in charge,” he whispered. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  “I want you to buckle up and enjoy the ride.”

  *

  Anders tried to hold back as long as he was able. It was torture and blissed-out pleasure at the same time. He wanted to take control with every atom of his body—each time she brought both of them close and then backed down. Each time she touched herself, he wanted it to be him. Each time she dipped her finger inside her pussy and let him lick her juice from her finger or her lips, he wanted his mouth there.

  She was killing him.

  And maybe that was the point. They needed to die and be reborn in order to somehow make them work as a couple.

  Sex with Tinsley was the best he’d ever had, but he wanted—no, needed more.

  Tinsley rode him faster, rising up and down and almost losing him in the process, and that was when he reached the point of no return.

  “Play with your nipples,” he snapped, pulling his hands easily from her hold so that he could hold her hips and control her ride.

  She cried out but did cup her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples and then massaging them.

  To hell with control and playing nice. Anders arched up so he could capture one beautiful breast with his mouth, and he began to play.

  “Anders, please, please, please.” Her soft moans and pants sent him over the edge. He anchored her so that he could arch up into her, re-angling himself so that he went deeper and hit her G-spot the way she liked.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders, scoring him and increasing the sexual stimulation. The orgasm hit fast and hard and seemed to stretch out wave after wave, drowning him in pleasure.

  Tinsley collapsed on him. He could feel her sweat-slicked body meld against his. Her scent was all over him, the smell of sex drugging in the air, and he didn’t want to move or shower ever again. He could still feel her sex spasm around him in blissful little after-shocks.

  His hands stroked her back and gentled through her tangled hair.

  “You okay, baby? I wasn’t too rough?”

  “I’d say you were perfect,” she said, still plastered against him, “but you are the last man who needs his ego stroked.”

  “Don’t need my ego stroked.” He kissed the top of her head. “I prefer something else stroked.”

  Still holding her, he pulled off the condom, tied it off and tossed it in the trash.

  She sighed and snuggled closer. Suddenly, she stiffened. “I forgot you’re hurt. Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m good, better than good, but it is my turn.”

  “Your turn?”

  Anders flipped over so that he was on top. “My turn to be bossy.”

  *

  Tinsley felt deliciously relaxed and liquid. She had no idea of the time. He
’d probably have to wake up soon and head out to the ranch, and her day would be busy. Despite not opening the tasting room until noon, she still had a lot to do—interviewing three applicants, trying out a couple of new recipes for the tasting room menu, meeting with a few distributers, and she was still drafting marketing materials. A local artist had contacted her about creating a mural for the tasting room, which had excited both her and Catalina.

  But right now, lying next to Anders, his body curved around hers so protectively, she felt happy and at peace in a way she hadn’t felt before.

  This is what it could be like if you let it.

  Could it? He’d be gone so much.

  You like your independence; you’d have a lot of it.

  But what if he cheats?

  She could still feel the shock, dismay, disbelief, and deep, deep hurt when she’d discovered John and two women she’d considered mutual friends in what would soon be her and John’s bedroom completely getting down to business during a party—rawer and kinkier than anything he’d tried with her. She’d thought something was wrong with her—that she wasn’t adventurous enough in bed. But when she’d seen him blissed out with another women giving him head in his office, she’d known the problem was him and that she wasn’t going to live that life.

  But her lack of trust was on her. Anders played no role in how she’d discovered John had been a serial and unapologetic cheater. He’d even been amused by her shock and tears and pathetic suggestion they see a counselor. And then he’d told her the role he’d expected her to play in their marriage—background support, hostess and mother. There’d been no idea of a partnership or love or of her having anything for herself.

  She’d been confused and hurt. She’d gone to his office after work one night hoping to talk to him on neutral ground, but once again, she’d walked in on him with another woman. That had ripped off the blinders for good. She’d thrown his ring at him and said they were over. The ring had hit him in the head and when she’d run, he’d caught her by her neck, spinning her around and briefly cutting off her air. His smile had chilled her to her bones.

  He’d told her to grow up, and Tinsley had run home to her mother, shattered and frightened, but her mother had been angry with her for interrupting John at work.

  “You’ve gone all tense again,” Anders murmured, stroking his hand down her spine. He followed with kisses. She sighed in pleasure and pushed memories of John away. Why did she still give him so much power? He’d moved on from her and had been publicly dating another daughter of a rich and powerful man within a couple of months of Tinsley supposedly breaking his heart.

  “Tinsley, tell me, why do you not want me to help out financially?” Anders asked, his palm flat and warm on her abdomen.

  She didn’t want to talk, and she didn’t want to think, but she needed to be fair. Anders was working his way so hard toward her, and she needed to meet him, if not in the middle, at least somewhere.

  She’d never thought of herself as lazy or fearful or selfish or mean, and she didn’t want to start.

  “I just like knowing I can take care of myself,” she said. “I don’t want to need anyone ever again.”

  “Again?” Anders leaned up on his elbow so that he could look at her expression. With his thumb, he traced first one curved eyebrow and then the other.

  She’d probably said too much.

  “I was engaged once—a long time ago. He was very controlling. I didn’t see it at first,” she said. Anders’ expression was open, his gaze searching as the first peek of dawn’s gray light filtered in through the raised blinds of her bedroom.

  “I didn’t love him. I was blinded by him. He was my parents’ choice, and I didn’t know any better.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “What?”

  “That day in the street when I grabbed you, you flinched. You looked like you were going to fight.”

  He looked so worried, and his hand stroked her cheek. She turned her face into his palm and kissed it. She didn’t want to talk about John while in bed with Anders. And she didn’t want to think of the life she’d left behind. And she should probably tell him her parents were both very much alive—not that she had any intention of contacting them or letting them back in her life with Anders.

  It was the first time she’d thought of them as a couple.

  “He didn’t hit me,” she qualified.

  “That’s not an answer,” he burst out.

  “It’s the one you’re getting,” she said. She framed his face with his palms. “It was a long time ago. We wanted different things. One night I realized that and broke it off.”

  Total simplification, but it would have to do.

  “I’m different now. Older. Wiser. I need now to know that no matter what happens, I have control over my destiny. I don’t want to be trapped.”

  “Do you feel like I’m trying to trap you?”

  She didn’t answer at first. She had felt that, but even over this short time of knowing about the baby, Anders hadn’t done anything but be supportive in the way that he thought best. He’d tried to do what he thought right. He was ethical. Moral. Code of the cowboy and of the strong, Texas man that was not seen so much in modern times.

  “I need to know that I have choices.”

  “Tinsley, you are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You have intellect, creativity, drive, confidence. I would never want to take that away from you.”

  She was silent, thinking about his words.

  “I know I came on strong after I learned about the baby.” Regret crossed his features, but determination was stamped there too. “But I’ve got to be honest about who I am. I am not a man who walks away from a responsibility.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t want to be your responsibility.”

  “You are. So is the baby. That doesn’t mean I think you are helpless or don’t want to be with you as a man and woman, as a family. It just means that if you need something, you can count on me.”

  “But I—”

  He smoothed the frown from her face. “What was your reaction when I showed up here hurt?”

  “What?” She blinked at the non sequitur.

  “You asked how I was. You offered ibuprofen, you ran downstairs to bring up bags of ice for an ice bath, you offered me the bed. I didn’t need those things, but I appreciated them. You were helping me, showing me I can count on you, and I will need to sometimes. I will get banged up again.”

  Her heart squeezed in alarm.

  “That doesn’t mean you think I’m helpless or dependent.”

  Tinsley threaded her fingers through his hair. “You think I’m being too hardcore about my independence?”

  The smile that lit his face and eyes spread warmth through her.

  “I love it when you’re hardcore,” he said, straddling her—his palms on either side of her head and his legs caging hers in. “Just expect a little hardcore back.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I’m totally in love,” Cruz said, lying back on the ground next to Catalina on a western-style blanket Tinsley had purchased from a local boutique today. She’d used the winery account, and though the store owner had been thrilled to make such a large purchase, she’d also probably thought Tinsley a little too ambitious.

  “No one will sit outside at night if it’s chilly even with a gas fireplace, heat lamps and blankets.” The woman had shaken her head as she’d written up the purchase. “But I thank y’all for shopping local. You won’t return the blankets, will you?” Tinsley had reassured her that wouldn’t happen.

  And now, long after the tasting room had closed for its first official day, Tinsley and her first employee hire for Verflucht—Isla Velazquez, a recent graduate from St. Edwards University in Austin—had started to hang the strings of lights from the wooden poles that two of the ranch hands had installed yesterday in the transformed back patio.

  “Does it look magical? Does it look like a star-spangled sky?” Tinsley asked from up o
n the ladder.

  “It’s almost overwhelmingly beautiful and cheerful,” Catalina said.

  Isla popped down off her ladder and dutifully crouched on the ground and looked up. The smile that lit her features reinforced Tinsley’s belief that hiring her had been a good decision.

  She was a few years older than the typical small, private liberal arts college graduate because she’d worked her way through school, as her music and academic scholarship hadn’t covered everything. Today Isla had proved to be a hard and willing worker. She’d jumped in and hadn’t required much direction.

  “Not sure why we need so many pretend stars when we have the real thing,” Catalina said, not for the first time, but her eyes barely blinked and she’d yet to take her focus off the growing cover of “stars” on the tasting room’s back patio.

  “I want people to come to Verflucht not just for a tasting but to meet up with friends, enjoy a glass of wine or two, relax, chat and enjoy a snack that’s been thoughtfully paired with our wines, and I want them to feel a touch of magic—transported from their daily life for a fun and relaxing experience.”

  Catalina sat up and looked at Tinsley. “That sounds like exactly what I want for the tasting room—an experience.”

  “Do you plan to ever have music on the patio?” Isla asked as she hooked on another set of lights.

  Tinsley looked at Catalina and then back at Isla as she tied a string of lights to the other pole.

  “I like that idea,” Tinsley mused. It would be a way to draw in a local crowd on evenings. “Maybe weekend evenings. Definitely during events and wine pickups.”

  Tinsley remembered Isla had been in a band in college and perhaps still was. She might have connections or insider knowledge of potential acts—or maybe she’d like to play, although Tinsley was hoping that Isla would be willing to work a few evenings, especially as she continued to grow the tasting room staff. She had five more interviews lined up tomorrow morning.

  “Hey.” Strong hands spanned her waist. “I told you I would be by to help finish up any work on the patio tonight.” Anders lifted her off the stepladder.

  Tinsley stared up at him, a little shocked at the happy jump her heart gave. She tried to dig up some resentment that he was interfering, but instead she just found herself smiling back. She handed him the string of lights.