Cowboy Heat (24 page)

An awkward silence rose between them. Landon cleared his throat and in an attempt to banish it said, “Can I help you take your things into the house?”

She harrumphed, “I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubts about that.” He watched as she wrestled her suitcase from the car, then led the way into the house and down the hall, flipping on the lights as he went. “Here’s the guest room. Make yourself at home.”

She tossed her suitcase on the bed.

He tried, very hard, not to think about that bed. Where she’d be sleeping. Tonight. “I-I’ll go tend the horses, and then what do you say to a steak dinner?”

Her eyes rounded. She put a hand to her belly. “I am pretty hungry.”

“Great. Kitchen’s through here if you want something now.” He shot her what he hoped was a friendly smile. “After the day you’ve had, you could probably use a beer. Cody keeps the fridge well stocked.”

She snorted. “Hell. After the day I’ve had, I need to skip the beer and go straight to the whiskey.”

Landon laughed. “He keeps the liquor cabinet well stocked as well.” He showed her the gleaming bar in the great room. “Well, I’m heading out to the barn.” He stilled as the vision of making love to Delilah in the hayloft snarled through his brain. “I should be a couple hours. Y-you’re welcome to join me if you want some company.”

She shot him a sardonic look.

He shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He nodded again and, with one last look, forced his legs to move. Walk away. Though what he really wanted, more than anything, was to put his mouth on her, to taste her again.

But as he made his way to the barn, a smile curled his lips.

Because he hadn’t lost her forever. She was here. He was here.

And he had all night to warm her up.

* * *

When Landon went out to the barn to feed and water the horses, Delilah puttered in the kitchen, whipping up a veggie soufflé and twice-baked potatoes to go with the steak. But she only did it to keep her hands busy. Her mind was in a whirl.

Holy god. He was Landon McCoy. The hot hunk who had changed her tire and kissed her like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted do in his life was Landon McCoy. Cody’s brother. She should have seen the likeness. She should have
known
.

Delilah had known Cody for years. Since college. She’d introduced him to Angie. When the two had fallen in love, Delilah had been delighted for them—and green with envy. Because Cody was one of the good ones. Practically the only decent man she’d ever met.

And he had a brother.

Panic rose in her chest.

She could barely resist Landon as it was. She’d be utterly lost if he turned out to be just like Cody.

The last thing she needed right now was another man. And a cowboy to boot.

Still, her heart fluttered when she heard him clomping up the steps to the house. He came into the kitchen all sweaty and covered with dust. She repressed the urge to leap on top of him.

His nose twitched. “Wow. What smells so good?”

“I made a soufflé. And potatoes.”

He studied her for a moment, then murmured, “All that and she can cook too.”

Heat rose on her cheeks and she glanced away. She had to.

“I’m going to hop in the shower, then I’ll start the steaks. How does that sound?”

Oh god. Landon in the shower. Naked. A quiver skittered
through her at the thought. She tried valiantly to squelch it. And failed.

When he returned he was wearing a fresh shirt, and his hair was damp and slicked back. And he had shaved. The sharp line of his chin was smooth. Delilah decided it was probably better not to look at him at all, because he made her mouth water.

To cut the tension, she made them both a drink. He sipped his as he grilled the steak. Hers, she tossed back. Then made another.

By the time Landon brought the steaks to the dining room table, she’d had three.

He forked an enormous steak onto each plate, then served them both soufflé and potatoes. They sat across from each other and Landon lifted his glass. “To flat tires.”

Delilah blinked. A laugh bubbled. Of all the things to drink to—“All right. To flat tires.” She took a sip, and then got serious. Tore into her steak. The first bite made her moan. It was perfect. But Landon didn’t notice her orgasmic rapture. He was busy groaning as well.

“Oh lord. This soufflé is amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Delilah shrugged. “Cookbooks?” She’d always dreamed of attending Cordon Bleu or taking a cooking class in Tuscany, but never had.

“Phenomenal. The potatoes remind me of a dish I had in Northern Italy.”

Delilah stilled. Slowly, she raised her gaze. “Y-you’ve been to Italy?” Cowboys didn’t go to Italy. Did they?

“Couple times.” He took another bite and grunted. Then took another. “I studied history in college, before taking over the family ranch. It made sense to visit the cradle of civilization.
Went to Greece too.”

Her mouth watered. She’d always wanted to go there as well. “So…why does a
cowboy
study history?” She just couldn’t help asking. That fact was so at odds with her assumptions about his…type.

He snorted a laugh. “Because it interests me, Delilah,” he said her name like a caress.

Her heart
ker-chunked
. “Do you…happen to like opera?” She held her breath as she waited for his response.
Please say no. Please say no
.

“God no.”

Relief gushed through her.

“Except the arias.”
Hell
. “
Pearl Fishers
is my favorite.”

Oh. Hell
.

“Me too.” A peep.

He smiled at her, and she felt her resistance utterly drain away. Sure, he was a cowpoke, but he was a gentleman and a scholar. He liked to travel. He loved
The Pearl Fishers
.

And he smelled divine, something spicy and woodsy. Something essentially male.

Oh. She was in trouble.

He pushed back from the table with a sigh. “Wow.” He chuckled. “Just wow. Best meal I’ve had in a long time. But…”

“But what?” She didn’t mean to lean forward as she said this, but she had no power to withstand his charm. Not anymore.

His gaze warmed. “But…it was probably the company.”

Her pulse surged.

“I just can’t stop thinking about that kiss, Delilah. Please tell me it was phenomenal for you as well.”

She should end this now. Just say no. Just open her mouth and say—

“Yes.”

Awareness hummed between them; their gazes locked across the table.

“I’d like to kiss you again. But not a little kiss. And not just one.” His intent scorched her. “May I?”

“Yes.”

A whisper, but he heard her. His nostrils flared. “Come here.”

Trembling, she stood and rounded the table. He met her halfway. Without hesitation, without pretense or pointless chatter or unnecessary seduction, he swept her into his arms and kissed her. He kissed her as though he’d been thinking about it all afternoon. As though those thoughts had deserted him, and he was left with nothing but raw simmering lust.

His kiss enflamed her, and she responded with equal fervor, pressing against him and clutching him, palming his nape and scoring his scalp with her nails in a desperate attempt to get closer. He slanted his mouth over hers, and responded in kind. Then his lips traveled over her cheek, her chin. He nested in the crook of her neck. He found a spot, the spot that lit a flame in her belly.

She groaned as he nibbled, nipped.

He pressed her back onto the table, unmindful of the clink of glasses, the clatter of silver and china as it tumbled to the floor.

“God, Delilah,” he groaned as he found her breasts. “I want you so bad.” He fumbled with the buttons of her blouse.

An agony of want raked through her as his knuckles scraped over her hard nipples. She gasped and arched her hips against his.

His cock was hard and thick. His need unmistakable.

He made a growling sound in his throat, practically yanked
off her bra and encased the swollen tips of her breasts in the warm cavern of his mouth. Suckled.

Shards of delight shot through her.

“Do you like this? Do you?” He nipped one bud then the other.

She opened her thighs to him, cradling his lean hips between her legs, locked her ankles around his waist, and pulled him closer. “Do it again.”

He did. As he tormented her, back and forth, his hand skimmed up her bare leg to the juncture of her thighs. Nudged her clit.

A teasing touch. A featherlight whisper. But she felt it. She felt it to her core. A sizzling bolt of electrical lust. A shudder, a precursor, passed through her.

Inflamed, she reached for the band of his jeans. “Off,” she snarled, a guttural command.

He kicked his way out of his jeans, frantically toeing off his boots. Her heart surged at the sight of the rigid wedge arching up his belly. Her pussy clenched when she noticed the damp spot at the tip, soaking through the cotton.

Desperation racked her. She had to see him. Tugged at his briefs. “Off. Take them off.”

His magnificent cock sprang free. Impatient. Ready. She wanted to taste him, but there was no time for that. She needed him. Now. She yanked off her panties and leaned back on the table and spread her legs. “In me.”

He stilled and stared at her, his eyes burning fire, Adam’s apple working in his beautiful thick throat. “Oh, fuck, yeah,” he mumbled, fumbling for the condom in his wallet, not taking his avid gaze from her splayed body. He tore the foil package open and slipped on the condom, and then held her in place as he slid inside her.

Delight—absolute fucking delight—scored her as he burrowed his way through her slick, swollen folds, stretching her. Filling her. Completely.

He hissed as he sank deeper, shuddered as he kissed her womb. “God, Delilah. You are so tight. So…good.”

She whimpered when he eased out, but he quickly reversed direction and filled her again. “Yeah, baby. Fuck me.”

His breath stalled at her command. His fingers tightened on her flesh, holding her steady on the rocking table so he could pummel her with pleasure.

Like a wild man, he plunged in, again and again. From this angle and that, in a wild frenzy that fed hers. Each rabid thrust, every savage plunge drove her higher and higher and higher until she didn’t think she could bear the anguish.

And then he found it—that magical bundle of raw nerves that made her quiver and shake. His pace slowed. His angle shifted. Holding her frantic gaze, he massaged her, tormented her, stroking, rubbing, nudging at her sanity.

“Landon.” A desperate plea. A whisper. A command.

“What do you want Delilah? Tell me what you need, baby.”

“More. More.
More.”
She couldn’t manage another word. Another thought.

He stilled inside her, buried in her, his cock thrumming with every beat of his heart. She tried to twitch her hips, make him move again, but he held her still. Impaling her. Dominating her. “Oh,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble. “You want more?”

“Yes!”

“Do you like it rough? Tell me, darlin’.”

“Yes.”

His eyes glinted. Still he didn’t move. Desperation clawed her. She was close. So close…“Landon!”

“Say please.”

His expression, his tone, the very timbre of his words and what they represented sang to her. Something inside her melted, burst into flame. A shudder took her. And then another. She licked her lips.

He tracked the path of her tongue. The muscles on his neck stood out from the strain. The agony on his face was clear. “Say it,” he hissed.

She couldn’t resist. Couldn’t hesitate or pretend. This was raw. This was bare. This was feral hunger.
“Please.”

His breath gushed out, hard and hot. Relief. And he took her, fucked her, possessed her. Like a savage he ravaged her, pounding into her quim again and again, shifting directions, thrusting here and there, plucking at her nipples and thrumming her clit as he played out a delicious operetta on her body. Her soul soared toward heaven. Reaching, clawing for it. So close. So close. So…

And then his tenor changed. The muscles of his beautiful face tightened. His strokes became shorter, harder, more frantic.

She was right there with him.

He stared at her, his eyes wild, his expression intent. He increased his thrusts. Something inside her curled, constricted. The pressure became exquisite, unbearable.

And then she broke. Rapture descended. She came in a glorious rain.

His body lurched as he found his release as well. His soul-deep moan, which sounded very much like her name, warbled through the room.

They collapsed in each other’s arms.

On the table.

Amidst the remains of dinner.

After they recovered, Landon gathered her up and carried
her to the couch and simply held her. When she met his gaze, he thumbed away a stray tear and smiled. “That was amazing.”