The Cowboy Takes A Bride

by Jillian Hart

  What a hopeful thing that turned out to be, so the house news would keep. She would wait until it was final, the papers finalized and deed recorded and the place theirs. Well, she'd have to tell them before they arrived at Nelson's office to sign, right? It was a warm thought, lifting her spirits enough that she almost really smiled as she grabbed a clean plate from the drainer to sit down and eat.

  A knock rattled the back door. Frisco's handsome face stared at her through the window in the door, the glass reflecting the long rays of the low-in-the-sky sun. A smart woman would refuse to answer that door, a wiser one would depart from the room and keep what remained of her heart safe.

  But she was sweeping across the kitchen and had the knob in hand before she could think straight, hands trembling. Her heart beat rapid and feather-light, too fast for words against the back of her rib cage. "Frisco?"

  "I knew I'd catch you. Now that I've got you, you're coming with me." He stepped into the kitchen, dwarfing it, making the walls shrink and the oxygen disappear and she gasped, unable to breathe. Or to feel the floor.

  His forehead wrinkled attractively beneath the fall of dark, thick, silky hair. He squared his broad shoulders in his black button-up shirt, matching his black trousers. The vest he wore, as if for a fancy night out, made him look every inch the wealthy ranch owner and cowboy he appeared, always, to be. "You'll be back late, really late."

  "I will? Where am I going?"

  "With me. Since your sister heard that, we're good to go. Aren't we?" He caught her by the hand and gave a warm, strong and undeniable tug, pulling her across the threshold and into the alley where the soft golden sunlight glazed both of them, making her eyes tear. It was too hard to see him again.

  She drew her back up straight, full of determination, trying to find the words to reject him one final time. Last time had been difficult enough. "Tomorrow's a very busy day. We have been kicked out of the retail space, and so we'll have to move, both the store goods and our apartment. And then clean. Not much, thank goodness, but it's still a lot of work to move. I need to start packing this evening."

  "It can wait. I'll talk to the Pratts. I'll fix anything for you, Jada."

  "You have no idea how much I would love to take you up on that offer. The Pratts, I'm glad to be rid of, but the other one. It would be a fine thing to have you in my life, Frisco. Forever and always, I'll always do anything I can for you."

  "Then come with me now."

  "I can't." She put down her foot, bracing it. "I can't go any farther with you."

  "Famous last words." He swung her up into the surrey. The back seat was empty but the fragrant, delicious smell of food from the hotel sat in a wrapped box on the back seat floor. "You're going to be happy, Jada, just you wait and see. You're what matters here. And I don't want to let you down and make the mistake of rejecting me and never seeing me again."

  "Mistake?" Jada blinked, wishing her brain cells hadn't stopped firing, leaving her without a single thought in her head, not one, nor a word to protest with. Because she really didn't want to protest at all. Did he know that? Did he know her weakness?

  "Yep, because that's what you made today, but not to worry." Frisco climbed up onto the seat beside her and gave the reins a shake, sending the horses forward. "Everybody makes mistakes. It happens. Just let me know if you're really ready to turn around, otherwise, give me another chance."

  "I'm too smart for that. We both know I would do it."

  He did. It was written all over her face for anyone to see. Don't think he couldn't see it. "Smart has nothing to do with it. This is about the heart, which has a mind of its own, which is what I'm doing here. I need to keep courting you."

  "I need you to stop." She could hardly get the words out, they came thin and wavery sounding, so full of ache and hurt and lost dreams that his heart just crumpled right up.

  "No, Jada. You might need something else, just like I do. I've got a feeling, so trust me. Just trust me. Give me one more chance, one more night to convince you to change your mind." His bold gaze landed on hers, fastened on and held her captive.

  She could feel her entire being begin to soften, as if ready to melt into him, flesh to flesh. What kind of power did the man have over her? With a single wink or a deeply tender word, he could have his way with her. Jada blushed and covered her face with her hands, just for a moment, hoping he wouldn't notice. But of course he did.

  She lowered her hands, her voice thick with emotion. "Give you one more chance? That would be a dangerous thing."

  "I know." Deep that voice, gentle those words.

  Pesky tears blurred her eyes again. She blinked, willing them down. Why couldn’t she be stronger than the tears, stronger than the grief of losing him? Stronger than the need never to let him go?

  "Here we are." He drew the horses to a halt in front of the house and hopped to the ground. He held out his hand to help her down. "What do you think of the place?"

  "Very nice." The words felt ripped from her throat, too painful past the gathering tears she held back, against the weight and truth of the past she dared not tell him about. Yet her hand flew to his as she scooted along the seat to stand and then, light as air, stepped to the ground. Light, because of his hand around hers, heated iron, pure strength.

  Someone moved out of the shadows, a ranch hand, to take the horses back to the barn. One movement, and Frisco had the food in hand, holding on tight to her so she could not wiggle her fingers free from his.

  Not that she really wanted to. What a luxury to fall in stride beside him on the stone walkway leading up to the impressive two-story house, a far sight better than the farm houses she'd seen around the area when she'd been out and about from town.

  "Let me get the door." He set the food on the nearby outside table next to a lovely porch swing. A few children's toys littered the porch boards, a dozen wooden horses froze in the middle of trotting from one side to the other. A lonely wooden cow watched.

  "After you." He gave the door a push to open it wide, giving her a view of a light-filled foyer where two benches lined either side, ready for little boys to put on and take off muddy boots and shoes.

  Another wooden cow stood watch on the end table next to one bench, and she wouldn't let herself smile, she wouldn't allow herself to laugh. She could not weaken, not one iota, or she would be putty in his hands unable to do the right thing, fallen so far for him that she'd passed that all-important point of no return.

  She could never save his heart and hers that way.

  Emotion stood in his eyes, too. "First things first."

  "Oh. What would that be?" Jada wished her voice didn't sound so high and thin, so full of need, full of the wish for this pain in her heart to go away. It hurt to remember how he'd looked, walking away from her earlier in the day. "Should I get some plates? Is the food still good and hot? I could heat it for you."

  "Forget the food. I've got something more substantially pleasurable in mind."

  "Appetizers?" She arched an eyebrow, not sure what he meant.

  "Something like that, definitely." His eyes went dark as he shut the door behind him. His gaze swept down her face, unable to stop staring at her mouth. His lips buzzed with hot anticipation, and wild want whipped through him. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"

  Want beat through him, hot, untamed and heady. He watched her shake her head, scattering those tumbling down, soft as silk tendrils framing her sweet, beautiful face. Her soft eyes widened, unguarded, full of vulnerable need.

  "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he asked, his baritone husky.

  "No," she said, shaking her head again.

  But her eyes said yes. Heck, he was a man with unmet needs, pure and simple. He couldn't stop staring at her mouth, at those soft lips pursing just for him, as if she remembered their last heated kisses. Desire sparked in his veins, even though he knew it wasn't wise, but he wanted her. In every way. Right here. Right now. No excuses. He vowed to make her his.


  "What are you doing?" she asked, puzzled perhaps, or hopeful. It was hard to tell. He looked into her eyes again and his heart caught, touched by what he saw. A wish, a want to be loved.

  Well, then, he thought, let it be tonight.

  His breath mingled with hers as he leaned in to slant his mouth over hers, brushing her mouth with his in a light, quick sweep that had sensation charging through his veins like lightning fire, melting him where he stood.

  "That's not enough," he said. "Not at all."

  He captured her mouth with his again, and she groaned at the fiery possession. This was no sweet, friendly kiss. It was all need, all passion, all fire and sexual desire. He kissed her hard, savoring her, drinking her in, his kiss honest with need but also soft with heart.

  "Yes," she whispered. "More."

  She definitely wanted, no, craved more. Then all thought fled. She let him consume her, curled her fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt, holding onto him as she tilted her mouth to his. Every stroke, every caress of his mouth to hers burned through her like flame, building and building until his kiss wasn't enough. Or never could be.

  She wanted more, melting against him, unable to speak or breathe and never to think. Wrapped up in pure feeling, just like she was enfolded in his arms, she opened to him, taking more of his kiss, then caught his lower lip between hers and nibbled on it slightly, tenderly, just enough to make him moan, to incite him to give her more.

  Yes, she wanted more.

  His large hands skimmed her body, burning a trail of fiery sensation all the way down her body. It felt wonderful to be touched this way by him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as he broke the kiss, dragging in air while he could.

  It felt so wonderful, this connection between them, strengthening with every hot thudding pulse of desire through every inch of her. How did she melt into him more? Too much space separated them, and she didn't want any space at all.

  "I love kissing you." He pressed his forehead to hers, not moving away for a moment, and the intimacy wasn't enough. Even when he kissed her forehead and she feared that he would stop there, not really desiring her.

  "You're a great kisser," she whispered, embarrassed by her boldness. What if he rejected her now?

  A mischievous smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. "Then I'd better give you a few more of those. And we can see what else I'm good at."

  He traced one knuckle down the side of her face, his gaze gone black with desire. "I want you, Jada."

  Heart pounding, she let him back her through a doorway and down a hall leading to the end bedroom. He pushed the door shut behind them, standing in the glowing gold sunlight, and his trousers looked tighter, outlining his desire, as he kicked off his boots.

  His kiss was instant fire, his touch as glorious and molten as the light brushing them through the window panes. A few tugs of her hairpins and her thick glossy curls tumbled down over her shoulders, caressing his knuckles as he loosened the buttons of her bodice and pushed the garment down over her hips and thighs, leaving it to fall to the carpet at her feet.

  The round, rosy tips of her breasts were pure temptation beneath the muslin chemise she wore. A support, he realized, no corset because of the heat, and he went even harder. He gritted his teeth, refusing to come at the look of her just clad in her petticoats, which skimmed her slender hips and thighs, so womanly and desirable all he could do was to fist his hands momentarily and keep himself from coming. Rock-hard, his pulse drummed crazily, thudding through every inch of him. He wanted her bad.

  "You seem to want me, too." His words were ragged and thick with meaning. "Just so you know, this matters to me."

  "To me, too." She didn't know how to tell him how much. "No matter what happens, I'll always be glad to be here with you tonight. Never forget that."

  "I won't. It's how I feel." He loosened his belt and trousers to step out of them. "I'm going to love you, Jada."

  "Make love to me, you mean," she corrected breathily, trembling, melting from the inside out, unable to keep from leaning toward him, longing for him, craving him. She hooked a finger into the fabric of her chemise and tugged it over her head, letting it flutter to the floor. "This can only be for tonight, just this once."

  "Agreed." He stepped out of his trousers and shucked off his shirt. "I'm willing to take this one night at a time. Don't you worry.

  "Just for tonight," she emphasized, loosening her petticoat ties and the garment skimmed her thighs and knees, her lean calves on its journey to the floor.

  Without a need for more words, he hauled her into his arms, desperate and hungry for her. His thumbs tugged down her drawers and his hands splayed across the soft flesh of her bottom, hauling her, naked, against the hard throb of his erection, warm and rigid against her lower belly.

  It felt wonderful, more than she'd dreamed or dared to think of. Lust thickened her blood, making her heart stand still for one moment as she looked up into eyes as black as a starless night, as deep as a man's heart can go. Wanting to make it clear, this was what she wanted, she pressed against him bold and brazen and gasped when his hand closed around her breast and stroked.

  She went up on tiptoes to deepen his kiss, letting him back her to the bed, keeping his hand firm on her hip so she stayed pressed up against his hardness. He groaned when she reached up and laid her palm against the side of his face, just a moment of pure tenderness before he helped himself to her breasts with his tongue, laving each pebbled, sensitive peak.

  She trembled, full of desire, her knees too weak to stand, so her lifted her up in both strong arms and laid her gently on his bed. He didn't break the kiss but left his mouth exquisite on hers and she kissed him back, soft and deep, hot and tempting until he moaned, stretching his big body out on the sheet next to her. He kept his hand possessively on her hip, keeping the hard ridge of his erection nestled against her soft dark triangle of hair and lower belly. Kissing her, just kissing her.

  The rounded tip of his shaft jutted against her hip as he moved up and over her, eager for her, just as she was for him. Needy, she groaned, opening her thighs to him, liking what she saw he had for her arrowing directly at the place, sensitive, private and yet wet and swollen that ached for him, where she most wanted him to be.

  Fierce need coursed through her and her inner muscles squeezed, throbbing with want for him, with that singular, ardent desire only he could fulfill. Greedy for him, she lifted her hips, desperate, and was rewarded with the velvet-wrapped iron feeling of his shaft, rounded and pressing, pushing against her wet, swollen folds and deeper, penetrating into her.

  Such brazen pleasure! Her head rolled back into the pillow, the sensation so intense, she came a little. Tiny, joyful pulses of pleasure tightening around him, throbbing hard and then fading to sweet as he pushed in slow, the wide rim of him stretching her perfectly, and then he thrust deeper, inch by hard, thick inch, slowly until he filled her completely, hilt deep. Her muscles tightened around him, gloving him, and she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and lifted her knees up to clamp his hips, holding him captive, not wanting him to get away so this pleasure, this breathless, spiraling, unbearable pleasure would not end.

  "I take it that you like this," he quipped, murmuring against the shell of her ear, making her shiver at the sexy huskiness of his voice and rumble of his chuckle.

  "Like it? Are you kidding? I don't like this at all. Nope, not a bit, not at all," she teased back, but was unable to laugh for the mini-orgasm that gripped her when he moved slightly, rocking just right on the spot beneath her cervix where he was, stroking back and forth. "It's much more than that. I adore this with you. I adore you."

  "Exactly," he agreed, setting a slow, tantalizing pace as he rocked them together and together again.

  She felt on fire, consumed by flame, about to blow apart in a blaze. His skin was slick with sweat, and she felt every powerful ripple of his muscles beneath her hands as he tensed, trembling with the effort of holding back his or
gasm. Me, too, she thought as her inner muscles spasmed around him, gripping him tight, and spears of fire, of deep and dramatic pleasure shot through her, tingling through every inch of her and radiating outward.

  Such bliss, such bliss. There was so much of him, she felt lost, covered by him, held by him, kissed by him, filled by him, filled to the brink. She lifted her knees higher, to urge him deeper, to get him right where she wanted him deep inside, and he obliged, setting a faster rhythm, stroking just right and hitting those delicious places within her core that felt so good. And the orgasm hit as every muscle tensed.

  He watched her with dark eyes shining with tenderness and lust, his strokes going faster, harder, rougher, perfect as her womb tightened like a fist, and wave after wave of sensation blinded her, ripped through her, pulsing so hard, throbbing so hard, she nearly lost consciousness. She cried out as the pleasure kept continuing to build, turning her inside out, unbearable but joyful, sharply keen-edged and greedy. She undulated, needing that final high, hot hard explosion of a pulse that sent sparks to her brain and bliss to her soul, and to every little bit of her body, every little bit. She sighed as he came inside her, feeling the beat of each pulse, each powerful, pleasurable throb and hot, hot seed spilled against her womb.

  As the last throb of his release gripped him, he buried his face in her shoulder, in the soft curtain of her hair, and sighed. He kissed her so tender, it brought tears to both their eyes.

  28

  For the second time that evening, she lifted her hips, undulating with pleasure. Eager, so eager, really wanting to come again, to feel herself wrap around him hard and hold on tight, covered completely by him, gripping him so tight. She liked it this way too, with him stroking in a tantalizing rhythm, rocking them both, pumping inside her nice and slow, and then gaining speed until they both came.