Bad News Cowboy (18 page)

“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

A
S
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 with 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.”

“What changed?”

He just stared at her like he'd been hit in the back of the head with a two-by-four. “I think you did.”

The words made her stomach flip, a strange, uncomfortable tightening working its way from there up her throat. “I haven't changed.” It was a reflexive response, a funny one considering this had been about moving forward. About making sure she wasn't left behind. Really, it was about changing. But she'd been thinking more of changing her position in life, not herself.

“It's not a bad thing.”

“I think maybe you changed. Because it used to be that I looked at you and saw a guy who was basically another brother. Who was great and funny and made me mad and made me laugh. But then...then my skin started feeling too tight when you were around. And you made my scalp prickle and my heart beat too fast.”

“You have a crush on me,” he said, his lips curving into a wicked smile.

“I don't... That's not... You make it sound juvenile.”

“You were mean to me because you liked me. That's juvenile.”

She shoved his shoulder. “Making fun of me for it isn't any better.”

“I never said I wasn't juvenile. Completely childish. Like I said, I'm not the one who changed.”

“How did I change?”

He looked down at her cleavage pointedly. “Well, other than the obvious.”

She put her hand over her uncharacteristically exposed bosom. “Yes. Besides that. You aren't that simple. You can have whatever boobs you want—you don't need mine. Particularly since mine are aggressively average.”

“I'm going to have to stop you so that I can correct you. There is nothing average about your rack.”

“It's not that big.”

“Quality, honey. Not quantity.”

Humor tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You are naughty.”

“And you like it.”

“I do. And it surprises me a little.”

“It surprises you, Kate Garrett? I've seen you leer at passing men with all the subtlety of a construction worker.”

“Looking and touching are two very different things,” she said.

What struck her most about this exchange between Jack and herself was that it was easy. Easier than quite a few of the interactions they'd had since attraction had combusted between them. At least, it was easy now that she didn't feel so much like he was trying to protect her without actually listening to her.

“They definitely are,” he said, looking his fill.

“Okay, calm down.”

“You know what else changed?”

She blinked. “No. You have to tell me.”

“You have been Connor and Eli's younger sister since the moment I met you.”

She snorted. “Of course I have been.”

“No. That's not what I meant. That's the number one thing you've been to me. They cared about you, so I cared about you. Because they are like family to me. And because of that, so were you. But I don't know... Every year, you seem to become more you to me. Not Connor and Eli's sister. Kate. And what I want, and what we do, doesn't have anything to do with them.”

“You don't care what they think?”

“I wouldn't go that far. But I'm not going to make decisions based on that. I know that if they found out, there would be hell to pay, and that's one bill collector I'd like to dodge for as long as possible. And seeing as this isn't ever going to turn into anything beyond the physical, I don't see why they have to know.”

“No. I wouldn't tell them no matter who it was. I'm not looking for marriage or even a long-term relationship. My brothers don't need to know about my sex life. Also, I don't want you to die.”

“Yeah, they would kill me.” His eyes held a glimmer of humor.

“So we should keep doing this.”

“Until we don't want to.”

“Simple,” she said.

It was difficult to fight the feeling of smugness that built up inside of her. She was a late bloomer, there was no disputing that, but here she was handling a physical-only relationship like a pro.

“We can keep working on the charity event. I can help you with your riding. And when we feel like it, we can take some very rewarding breaks.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Right now we better go back.”

She cleared her throat, nodding. There really was no excuse for missing more of her brother's wedding reception. But she didn't really want to go back to reality. Didn't want to stand in a crowd of people and pretend that things were as they'd always been with Jack and herself. Not when things had changed on such a deep level.

She wanted to go into the woods alone, spend some time in the quiet turning over her newest treasure, studying it, holding it close to her chest.

Too bad that wasn't an option.

She started to walk toward the door and Jack swore harshly. “Your back.”

She added a matching swear word to his. “What are we going to do about that? I must look like I got into a fight with a porcupine.”

“Yes. If that porcupine was a barn wall you got banged against. It looks like exactly what it is.”

“Okay. We walk back. I'm going to hang around outside the edges of the reception. You give me your jacket. You left it back at the reception, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I'll pretend to be cold. You pretend to be a gentleman.”

Jack laughed, smiling, his whole face lighting up. And Kate's heart lit up right along with it. “I'll try.”

* * *

J
ACK
SLIPPED
HIS
JACKET
from the back of the chair sitting at the table that was designated for the bridal party and walked back out of the new barn to where Kate was standing on the outskirts of the celebration. “Here you go, badger-cat. So you don't get chilly.”

She began to reach for the jacket but he stepped to the side, sliding the sleeve over her arm, drawing it around behind her and doing the same on the other side. “So.” She gave him a sweet, shy look that burned straight down to his gut. Now that the guilt had been washed away by that last encounter, it was just lust. Simple, not pure at all. “You're just going to call me badger-cat now because I'm not on your ass about calling me Katie?”

“I miss being yelled at,” he said.

“I can yell at you.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw that no one was nearby. He leaned in, his lips touching her ear. “I could make you scream again.”

Kate looked at him, a self-satisfied smile on her lips. It made him feel warm all over. “Probably not tonight.”

“I could.”

“It wasn't doubt about your ability. It's just... It's Eli's wedding. And I need to stay. And you need to never have your truck parked out in front of my place overnight. And I won't be able to leave inconspicuously.”

“Why don't you come to my place after work tomorrow. Hitch up your trailer and bring Roo. You can do a run on some barrels there. We'll do a little planning for the charity day. And I'm sure we'll find some free time in there.” He listened to himself constructing a careful alibi for the express purpose of getting her naked again and keeping it secret. And he felt more than a little bit like a dick. But he wanted it. She wanted it. So he wasn't going to waste too much time worrying about it.

“Sounds good.”

“We'd better get back,” he said, stepping away from her, putting a careful distance between them.

She nodded and started to walk ahead of him, the sleeves on his coat hanging down to the tips of her fingers, the bottom hitting just above the hem of her dress. His gaze was linked to her, almost as if it was chained there. And the sight of her, petite but strong, covered by something of his, tightened that chain around his throat until he could barely breathe.

They walked back into the barn, the heated barn, which made it a little silly for Kate to be wearing the jacket, but it was a whole lot less silly than her displaying her war wounds to the roomful of people. He felt bad about that. Bad but also perversely satisfied that he'd marked her somehow.

Because dammit, she'd done something to him.

Sex for him was easy. A quick road to satisfaction. And it had never much mattered to him who it was with. He liked his partners, but he didn't need them. He needed Kate. Had woken up every night since she'd kissed him aching, with a hard-on that wouldn't quit. And fantasies that would only take the shape of her.

He would have been pissed about it if it didn't feel so good. He had no clue how the hell this woman had taken on this new form. To slip beneath his bedcovers, to slip beneath his skin.

It was the slow shift. Because he'd never put distance between himself and Kate, had never believed he might need to. So he'd had no defenses in place when she moved in for that kiss.

When she'd been all covered up in dirt and clothes and a scowl, she'd been Connor and Eli's little sister. But now that she'd smiled at him, kissed him, stripped for him, he'd seen the whole woman. And then it hadn't mattered anymore. Who she was related to, what they might think. She mattered. On her own. She was every inch herself. All strength, dreams and meanness when she got poked too many times. In bed she was fire. Unschooled, uncontained.

Now in his mind she stood alone, not attached to anyone else. She wasn't just a woman; she was a whole storm. Too much to be simply someone's sister.

It was a damn shame that he couldn't reach out and uncover all that again. That he had to stand here and pretend she was just Eli and Connor's sister when the secret was out and he knew different.

Kate stepped deeper into the barn, getting caught up in a group that contained some of the people from the amateur association. He held back, in part because he wanted to be near Sierra West like he wanted a screwdriver to the scrotum, and in part because he didn't want to stand near Kate and pretend.

Not right now.

Not while it was all still raw. Not while his blood was still hot and he could still feel her on his skin.

“Now it's just you.” Jack jumped and turned as Connor clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, and Kate.”

Discomfort wound its way through him. “Uh...what?”

“You're still single. You're the last holdout. Kate isn't really a holdout yet. She's just a kid.”

Jack bristled. “She's not really a kid.”

“She damn well is. And that's good, as far as I'm concerned. Better to be young when you're young and...whatever.”

“Are you drunk?” Besides the occasional beer, Connor had given up drinking a little over a year ago.

“No. Just thinking. I want you to find someone.”

Jack nearly choked. “Uh. Thanks. I'm fine. Without.”

“You think you are, but come on, all the whoring around has to get old.”

A sweet, illicit memory of recent “whoring” flashed through his mind. Made instantly ten times more awkward by the fact that he was standing in front of his partner's brother. “No. It really doesn't. I know that was never what you were into. I respect that. But... I don't want marriage and babies and domesticity. It's not me.”

“Yeah.” Connor's gaze drifted off and Jack followed his friend's line of sight. To Kate.