Cowboys & Angels (15 page)

“Sounds loud.”

“It would be loud, and wild. Then add in your voice saying naughty words in that husky way you have, and your moans, and little cries...” He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. “I hope you’re not sleepy yet.”

“Please don’t say we’re going out in search of a tiled room with a squeaky bed.”

“Not tonight. But even a cushy king-size mattress is capable of very nice sounds when two people are making love on it.”

She realized that he’d switched the terminology from having sex to making love. Judging from the warm light in his brown eyes, he’d done it on purpose. They’d had plenty of wild sex. She suspected the next round would be about something else entirely. She might not be ready for that.

15

C
REATIVE
SEXUAL
EXPERIENCES
were all well and good, Trey thought as he opened the door to his room and ushered Elle inside. But tenderness was important, too, and they hadn’t shared enough of that. He wasn’t complaining. He’d remember that elevator ride for the rest of his life.

Time to dial back the frenzy, though, and show her a different kind of loving—his favorite kind. She walked in on those crazy shoes, and he decided those would be the first to go. He was responsible for her keeping them on, because he’d relished the fantasy of a woman wearing do-me shoes and nothing else.

He didn’t need that anymore. They’d had that brand of fantasy sex in the elevator. He closed and locked the door before turning back to her. “You can take off your shoes if you want to.”

Her blue eyes flashed with a hint of an emotion he couldn’t identify. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. In fact, sit on the bed and let me take them off for you.”

She chuckled as she perched on the edge of the mattress. “Oh, I know where this is going.”

“Do you?” He didn’t think so. He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her and took one foot into his lap. “These must be wickedly uncomfortable.” He unbuckled the narrow strap.

“Not for the first couple of hours.”

He winced. She’d been wearing them since before two this afternoon. No wonder she’d wanted to sit and drink champagne with Mary Lou. He took off the other shoe, and she sighed with relief.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to keep them on.” He took one of her feet in his hands again and began a slow massage.

“Yes, you should. That’s the main reason this kind of shoe exists—to create a sexual fantasy for men. Women often wear them for that exclusive purpose.” She moaned softly. “That’s nice, Trey.”

“I owe it to you.” He deepened the massage.

“Hey, I’m the one who chose to wear them. You didn’t force me to put them on today.” She sighed again. “You’re good at this. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Why?” He moved to her other foot.

“Because I already know you have talented hands. You can make that guitar sing. You can make me sing.”

“Nice to know.” Although that affected him, he wasn’t going to indulge the demands of his cock right now. He continued to work on her feet. “Did you bring lotion?”

“There’s some in my duffel bag.”

Her bag was conveniently on the floor only a couple of feet away. Pulling it over, he handed it up to her. “Would you get it out for me?”

“I know what you’re up to, Trey.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She handed him a tube of lotion. “You’re making love to my feet, and then you’ll work your way up my legs, and so on.”

“So you think massaging your feet is a means to an end?” He squeezed out some sweet-smelling lotion and smoothed it over the arch of her foot.

She shivered. “I do.”

“Well, you’re right, it is.” But he wasn’t doing it to prepare her for his future satisfaction. He was doing it because she needed this more than she needed an orgasm. “Just lie back and enjoy it.”

“Okay, I will.” She settled backward on the bed.

“I like your gold toenail polish.”

“The spa here does a nice job.” She moaned again. “You could work there. You know your way around a foot massage, cowboy.”

“You inspire me.” He worked the lotion between her toes. Then he moved to her other foot and gave it the same treatment. He took his time, and the room grew very quiet. Too quiet.

Slowly releasing her foot, he rose to his knees and peered at her. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was steady. She was asleep.

He chose to be complimented rather than insulted. He’d relaxed her with his foot massage, and she’d felt comfortable enough to drift off. She might be asleep, but they could still share a bed. That would be nice, too. They might not use the condoms he’d left in the nightstand drawer, but he’d be right there beside her all night.

Although he undressed as quietly as he could, he probably didn’t need to worry about waking her up. She slept on. But she couldn’t stay like that with her legs hanging off the bed.

Surveying the situation, he mapped out a strategy. He drew back the covers on the far side of the bed. When he leaned over and scooped her up in his arms, she mumbled something and cuddled closer. It sounded like she said, “Has Santa been here?”

He might have misunderstood, but he decided to give her an answer anyway. “Not yet,” he murmured as he carried her to the other side of the bed and laid her on the sheet.

Her bathrobe tie had loosened during the transport, and he didn’t think she’d want to sleep in that bulky thing, anyway. Working carefully, he slipped each arm out of the sleeves. Getting the thick robe out from under her was a trick, but he finally succeeded.

Grabbing one stolen moment, he gazed at her. She was so much more than a beautiful woman. She had fire and intelligence to spare. If she’d only let him into her life, she’d be so easy to love.

She rolled to her side to face the wall, and he pulled the covers up over her bare shoulder. “Sleep well, sweetheart,” he said softly.

“I want skis.” The words were distinct this time, even though her eyes remained closed.

He didn’t have to think very hard to figure it out. She’d been surrounded by Christmas decorations for days. Then he’d picked her up like a sleeping child and tucked her into bed. In her dream state, she’d asked Santa for a pair of skis. That memory had to have come from somewhere.

Yet she’d told him before that Christmas wasn’t particularly important to her. It had been once, though. He’d lay money on it. But now she’d rejected everything that was even slightly sentimental, including Christmas.

Or maybe not. He had a sudden inspiration. If he could get her to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at the ranch, he might revive her love of the holiday. He couldn’t help thinking that once she surrendered to the joy of the season, she’d be open to loving him.

That wouldn’t solve the problem of her heading down to Argentina for the summer months, but it would be a start. She craved the excitement of that sport, she’d said. All he had to do was present an option that was at least that exciting. Personally, he thought loving each other for the rest of their lives fit the criteria. But that was just him.

Turning out the lights, he climbed into bed beside her. He wished that he had a Christmas tree like hers to cast a warm glow as she slept. Her affection for that tree was another clue that she wasn’t quite as immune to the holidays as she let on. But short of getting dressed again and stealing hers, he was out of luck on that score.

He gathered her close, because he couldn’t help himself. Lying spooned against her, his cock close to her silky bottom, created a predictable result. He tried thinking of subjects that would tame his bad boy, but nothing worked, not even imagining himself naked in a snowdrift.

A snowdrift had started all this in the first place. Now he was in bed with his angel, someone who’d been only a fantasy three days ago. He’d had hot, creative sex with her. Yet in some ways, even though she was lying right next to him, she seemed out of reach.

His cock twitched because that’s what cocks did when they were denied what they wanted. He wasn’t going to wake her up so he could get relief, so he rolled to his back with a sigh of frustration. This could be a really long night.

“I’m awake.” She rolled to her side, facing him.

Excitement warred with guilt. “My fault. Sorry.”

She laid a hand on his chest. “This wasn’t supposed to be a slumber party.” She stroked him with those tantalizing hands, those provocative, arousing hands.

“I know, but you’re tired. You need—”

“You.” Reaching down, she circled his stiff cock with sure fingers. Sweet torment. “And you need me,” she said. “We decided on this big bed for a reason, and it wasn’t so we could sleep better in it.”

He turned his head to look at her. “You’re mighty persuasive, lady.” And he was a sucker for the times when that husky note crept into her voice.

“One more climax apiece,” she said. “Then we’ll sleep.”

When he hesitated, she scooted closer, put her mouth next to his ear and told him what she wanted in two succinct words. He was a goner.

But he refused to take her with the reckless abandon he’d allowed himself before. “Turn me loose, and I’ll do exactly what you said.” He gently removed her hand from his cock. He wouldn’t do exactly what she’d said, though. He had much more in mind than the raw coupling those two words implied.

“Lie back.” He reached across her. “Are you okay with the light?”

“Yes.” She lifted her head and kissed him full on the mouth, her lips warm and pliant. He got so lost in that kiss that he nearly forgot what he’d been about to do. Her openmouthed, eager kiss shot messages down to his groin. Ah, yes. First the light. Then a condom from the drawer.

He fumbled for the light switch and found it. He’d be damned if he’d love her in the dark and miss watching her expression. Then he grabbed a condom and held on to it while he continued to explore her luscious mouth.

How he loved doing that. She might act skittish when they talked about commitment, but she put her whole heart into her kiss. He tended to believe her kiss more than he believed her words.

He wanted to be inside her, though, and the condom wasn’t going to magically attach itself to his cock. Ending the kiss with reluctance, he pulled away long enough to put the doggone thing on. Someday, when his world was arranged the way he’d prefer, he wouldn’t have to use them. But that was getting way ahead of the game.

As he moved over her, she looked up at him and seemed about to say something.

“What?”

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Nothing.”

“Please don’t close your eyes.”

Her lashes fluttered and she looked at him again. “What if I need protection?”

He remembered telling her why he usually wore his hat during a performance. “You don’t need to protect yourself from me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure.” He entered her slowly. This time wasn’t about speed and agility or multiple orgasms. This was about celebrating the connection he’d felt since that first moment when he’d discovered her standing in the gift shop.

She sucked in a breath. “When you look at me like that, I...I get scared.”

“I told you before.” He eased back and slid in again, still moving gently. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“It’s not you I’m afraid of.” Her gaze held his. “It’s what you make me feel.”

“Could that be love?” He stroked her with subtle movements of his hips, arousing her by tiny increments, building the emotion he wanted from her.

“I don’t...I don’t know.”

“I do.” He rocked gently within her. “It’s this, Elle. This connection between two people.”

“It’s not that simple.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“Yes, it is.” He kept loving her, wanting her to feel what he felt.

“No.”

“Yes. Two people, finding each other, recognizing each other. The rest is details.”

“Oh, Trey.” She swallowed. “I wish I could believe you.”

“I wish you could, too.” He shifted his angle and felt her tighten. “Believe this. We’re in tune, Elle. Do you know how rare that is?”

She nodded as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

“Then stay with me.” He sought the rhythm that would bring them both joy, and she arched against him as he knew she would. “Stay with me, Elle.”

She came apart in his arms, and he followed soon after. But when it was over, he knew that one crucial thing was missing from their special moment. She hadn’t promised to stay.

* * *

T
REY
HADN
’
T
PRESSED
her for an answer, and for that Elle was grateful. If anything, he pretended that he hadn’t said those fateful words “stay with me.” He kissed her tenderly before leaving the bed, and when he came back, he turned out the light and gathered her close. In minutes, he was asleep.

But she lay wide-awake, staring into the darkness. She couldn’t lead him on anymore. Although she’d warned him from the first that she wasn’t interested in anything long-term, he hadn’t really accepted that. Instead, he kept trying to find reasons for her to stay in Jackson Hole instead of leaving in April. And tonight he’d made his romantic, loving plea.
Stay with me.

She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t let herself be carried away by good sex and sweet words and sentimental songs. She wasn’t that type.

But he was, and he needed someone who
would
allow herself to be carried away, who’d agree with his romantic belief in soul mates and destiny. Maybe he’d find another musician who could share his fascination with acoustical sex. They could have fun singing duets like the one he’d performed with Tyler.

Elle had toyed with the idea of continuing to see him after this long weekend was over. But when he’d asked her to stay, she’d faced reality. They had different goals.

The longer she indulged herself with this hot affair, the tougher life would be for Trey when she broke it off. He’d mourn losing her the way he’d mourned losing Cassie, which would sideline him for weeks or months. If she cared about him, she should minimize his pain, not prolong it.

But telling him that now, when he was celebrating with his friends, also would be cruel. He’d need some private time to work through the disappointment, and he wouldn’t have that opportunity until the group went back to the ranch. She’d have to pretend all was well until he left on Tuesday. That wouldn’t be particularly easy, but she’d do it for his sake.

She wondered if stress would keep her awake all night, but she was already sleep-deprived, and finally exhaustion claimed her. When she woke up a few hours later, Trey was in the shower, whistling. That broke her heart.

He was so cute when he was happy, and she wanted him to be happy. That meant exiting his life and leaving space for someone who fit into his world and his dreams. Someone who wasn’t her.