From the Boots Up (13 page)

Meg started to unbutton Gina’s shirt from the bottom
as Gina’s tongue met hers, caressing, tentative. She unbuttoned her own shirt
while Gina kissed her. Gina helped her out of it then shrugged out of her own
shirt as Meg buried her fingers in Gina’s thick hair and kissed her harder.
Gina’s fingers swept across her back and down to the waistband of her jeans
then up again to pause at her bra, where they hesitated. She pulled Gina
closer, and tracked down her neck with her tongue. Gina unhooked Meg’s bra and
her warm, strong hands moved to her shoulders to push the straps off, her
breathing matching the pounding of Meg’s heart as she in turn undid Gina’s bra
and let it slip to the floor with her own.

She pressed herself against her and the sensation
sent a surge of heat down her thighs and pushed a moan from her throat, which
Gina caught on her tongue and returned. Her hands rested at Meg’s hips then
abdomen, where they stopped.

“Yes,” Meg said against her lips and Gina cupped Meg’s
breasts, and gently stroked her nipples with her thumbs, making them throb in
time with the ache at her core. She worked her own hands to the waistband of Gina’s
jeans, and caressed her skin just above it with her fingertips, which hesitated
near the button. She ended the kiss and stared into Gina’s eyes, wondering if
that was too forward.

Gina smiled and placed her hand over Meg’s, and
guided it to the button. Then she kissed her again as Meg undid her jeans, and
ran her fingertips along the top of her underwear, hoping that this wasn’t a
dream, and that she really was here, that Gina really was gently pulling at her
jeans, too. She felt the button release and Gina’s warm breath against her
face. Chills shot down her back, affirmation that no, this wasn’t just a dream.

“Not to ruin the moment,” Gina said, “but it’s gonna
be mighty hard to get you out of these with your boots on.” Her lips brushed
Meg’s ear, sending sparks down her thighs. “What do you say, Cowgirl? Can I
talk you out of your boots?”

“Maybe.” She slid her arms around Gina’s neck. “But
you know how cowgirls are about their boots.”

A half-smile pulled at Gina’s mouth and she started
singing softly, her voice a husky, melodious growl. “Baby take off your boots.”
She slowly undid Meg’s zipper, still singing softly. “You sure won’t need them,
for what I want to do. . .to. . . you,” she improvised. She stopped. “Is it
working?”

“You have no idea,” she said as she moved out of Gina’s
reach and sat on the edge of the bed near the window, where she quickly unlaced
her ropers. She removed them and left them on the floor at the foot of the bed.
Her socks quickly followed and she stood again and her jeans sagged around her
hips.

“Don’t move,” Gina said. She stepped closer and touched
the side of Meg’s face, then traced a line from her cheek to her ear.

Meg closed her eyes and leaned into her touch as Gina
slid her free arm around her waist and pulled her close. She kissed Meg’s
shoulder, then nuzzled her neck and goosebumps erupted all over Meg’s skin as a
delicious chill rippled through her stomach. And then her hands were all over
Meg’s back again, her lips on her other shoulder, her throat, the space just
beneath her ear. Oh, God, that made her burn, made her run her hands down
Gina’s smooth, solid back, then up again around to her chest, where she stroked
patterns across her breasts and nipples.

“Mmm,” came Gina’s reaction against her neck and her
hands dropped to Meg’s hips, and she slowly started to push her jeans lower.

“Uh-uh,” Meg said against her lips. She pulled away
and stepped out of her jeans, gratified to hear Gina’s breath catch in her
throat. She tossed them aside, near the pile of shirts and bras had already
made, then pulled the covers back and slid into bed, watching Gina in the light
from the lamp.

“Your turn,” she said. “Show me what you got, city
slicker.” She grinned at the expression on Gina’s face.

“Spoken like a true cowgirl,” she said with an
answering grin before she started to sing as she balanced first on one foot to
pull a boot and sock off then on the other to repeat. “There’re some things I
want to say. . .” she sang as she let her boots lie where she dropped them, amidst
the other articles of clothing. She slowly unzipped her jeans and Meg’s mouth
went dry.

“And some things I want to do,” she continued to
sing. “So just lie back, baby. . .because I want a piece of you. . .”

Meg stared as Gina slowly worked her jeans down her
thighs. How was it possible that any one person could be so damn sexy?

“Just lie back, baby,” Gina sang as her jeans dropped
lower. “I got some things I wanna do. . .” She stepped out of her jeans and
approached the bed. “Can I get a piece of you. . .”
Her voice faded into a delicious sigh and Meg moved over, holding
the covers up so Gina could join her and when she did, she pushed Meg back
against the pillows and Meg pulled her close and kissed her, gently at first
then harder as Gina moved against her and it felt like nothing she’d ever
known, to hold Gina like this, to feel her damp warmth against her own, even
through their underwear. Like nothing she’d ever known when Gina’s tongue
traced her neck and collarbone and her lips closed around Meg’s nipple, sucking
until it throbbed all the way to her clit.

And she gasped against Gina’s hair, dug her fingers
into Gina’s back, and lost herself completely in the feel of Gina’s mouth and
hands, and she couldn’t tell where she ended and Gina began.

Somehow Meg ended up on top, thrusting slowly against
Gina, who groaned and pulled her head down to kiss her and suck her tongue into
her mouth. Another surge of moisture settled between Meg’s thighs as Gina
released her, breathing hard.

“You’re so beautiful,” Gina said softly against her
neck, one hand on her lower back, holding her as they moved together. She
stopped and worked her fingers under the waistband of Meg’s panties, trying to
push them off. Meg helped and Gina worked hers off, as well, and pulled Meg
against her again and nothing Meg had imagined all week about Gina prepared her
for how that felt, for the wave of heat and current that engulfed her core.

She pulled away slightly so she could watch Gina’s
face, and let herself ride what she saw in her eyes. “You make me crazy,” she
admitted. “You’ve made me crazy since I first saw you.”

Gina smiled. “In a good way, I hope.”

“Too good.”

“It’s mutual.” She brushed Meg’s lips with her
fingers. “I found out for sure who you were when I got my tire fixed.”

“And?”

“And I knew it was going to be a much more
interesting week than I’d originally thought.”

She saw heat in Gina’s eyes and bent to kiss her
before answering. “So you were planning on a boring weekend at a Wyoming
ranch?” she teased.

“There is nothing remotely boring about the ranch,”
she said with mock indignation. “I just hadn’t planned on you.”

“I thought maybe you worked for the Forest Service or
something and you were based here for the summer.”

“I’m flattered. People like rangers better than
reporters.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You seem okay for a reporter.” She
slowly moved her hips and Gina exhaled with pleasure.

“Thanks,” she managed. “But I know a couple of
rangers. I could probably borrow a uniform, if you’re into that.” A devilish
gleam lit her eyes.

“Don’t need it. I like you just like this.” She ran
her fingers down Gina’s chest, and caught her breath as Gina arched into her
touch. She adjusted her position and slid her fingers between their bodies,
down Gina’s belly and lower, until she felt slick heat against her fingertips and
she cupped Gina in her palm, her heart pounding like she’d been running for
miles.

Gina groaned, low and soft. “Please,” she whispered,
and she gripped Meg’s shoulders and pushed against her hand.

Meg slid her middle finger in, and her breath hitched
at how wet Gina was and a new ache started between her legs as Gina closed over
her finger and moved against her. She bucked and Meg stopped moving her hand,
holding Gina on the edge of climax.

Not yet.

Not when she’d been aching for her all week.

She carefully and gently pulled out and Gina sighed and
ran her hands down Meg’s back as Meg shifted and kissed Gina’s breasts, teased her
nipples with her tongue, worked her mouth down Gina’s stomach to the dark
triangular patch between her legs. She tasted of musk, sweat, and need as she
eased her tongue in, tasted her own desire and every thought she’d had since
the first time she fell into Gina’s eyes.

“Meg,” Gina whispered as she wrapped her fingers in
her hair and moved against her mouth like she was trying to draw her in
further. She stroked Gina with her tongue, felt Gina’s clit harden and throb
against her lips and she ached at how Gina tasted and smelled, at how she
responded to her touch. She repositioned herself and slid her middle finger in.
She thrust with her hand, gently stroking Gina’s clit with her thumb, taking
her time, feeling like she might detonate, as every muscle in Gina’s thighs
tightened and her breath came in sharp, short gasps until it stopped
momentarily and Meg used the tip of her tongue to coax Gina over whatever
precipice she had reached. Gina stiffened and arched again, one hand in Meg’s
hair, the other gripping the sheets, and she released against Meg’s mouth with
a long, guttural groan, Meg’s name on her lips as she settled back onto the
bed.

Gina pulled her close and held on, and Meg sank into
the warmth of her arms and the charged vulnerability between them for a few
minutes before she gently pulled out, and listened to Gina’s breathing return
to normal, the breeze from the window cool on her sweat-slicked skin. But the
heat deep within was another story, and she wondered if one night would be
enough, could ever be enough.

“You give me a reason,” Gina sang softly as she
stroked Meg’s back. “A reason to breathe. . .”
She rolled over, bringing Meg with her. Now on top, Gina kissed
her hard and deep, and drew circles around her nipples with one of her fingertips.
She stopped and watched Meg’s face. “So just lie back,” she crooned, “and give
me a reason. . .a reason to breathe. . .”

Gina’s fingers dropped lightly down Meg’s abdomen to
the top of her thigh, and she watched Meg’s eyes, a question in her own.

She nodded and took Gina’s wrist and guided her hand,
heart hammering her chest. Gina slid her finger into her heat and her heart
nearly pounded out of her chest. She held Gina’s wrist as Gina plunged one
finger slowly in and out, her thumb gently massaging Meg’s clit. Her breathing
matched Gina’s rhythm and she cupped the back of Gina’s neck with her free
hand, her hips meeting her strokes.

She was close, so close, but Gina must have sensed it
because she stopped and suddenly her tongue replaced her finger and Meg
released her wrist and clenched her jaw, her breath hissing between her teeth
as she thrust against her mouth. Every one of her senses peaked and all she
knew were Gina’s lips and Gina’s tongue, and then Gina slid her middle finger
in, hard and deep, and she intertwined the fingers of her free right hand with
Meg’s left. She paused and thrust again, deep, and Meg ignited within and bit
back a yell as she held Gina’s gaze, watching something gather in her eyes.

“Gina,” she said with a groan, urgent.

“I’m here,” she said softly. “Right here.”

And then everything stopped and the only thing Meg
heard was a roaring in her ears and all she could feel was Gina, locked deep
within her. She cupped Gina’s face with her free hand and stared into her eyes
as she came, wanting Gina to see, wanting her to know how she made her feel.
And the tide raced through her, exploded between her legs, and slammed her back
against the bed, panting.

Gina wrapped herself around her, waiting for a long
time before she pulled out and Meg had never felt so safe as she snuggled into
Gina’s embrace. No, this night was not going to be enough.

“So you wanna stay over?” Gina asked, teasing.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” She nuzzled her
neck. “I’m so glad you had a flat tire.”

“Why is that?” she asked with a sigh of pleasure.

“Because I met you before I knew you were the
reporter from L.A.”

Gina laughed. “What difference does that make?”

“Context,” she said as she kissed her shoulder. “I
was ready to deal with a city slicker reporter. Not with you.” She stopped her
ministrations and instead watched Gina’s face.

“So you’re saying that if you hadn’t met me until I
showed up at the ranch Friday that things might have been different?” She
pretended to pout, but the sparkle in her eyes told a different story.

“I’m just saying that—” Meg paused. What
exactly
was
she saying? “Thinking you
were someone else let me think certain things,” she finished, not sure she’d
made any sense.

“What kinds of things?” She gave her a sultry little
grin.

“Like maybe I could go the rangers’ office and find
out who you were and maybe see if I could contact you.” Meg answered with a
grin of her own.

“I see. So thinking I wasn’t the annoying reporter
took some restrictions off your context.”

“Exactly.”

“Then I’m glad I had a flat tire, too. And that you
stopped to help.”

“Not that you needed it.” Meg kissed Gina’s chin.

“Maybe not. But I definitely needed you. Though I
didn’t know it at the time.”

So maybe this was more than one night? Butterflies
zipped through Meg’s stomach and she hugged Gina closer. “I think I might like
you,” she murmured against her lips.

“I think I might like you back.”

And Meg smiled, her head on Gina’s shoulder, as Gina
stroked her hair and softly sang another Dixie Chicks tune, about needing wide
open spaces, new faces, and the lessons life would give you.