Her Risk To Take (2 page)

She rubbed his silky ears. She was going on an adventure all right, but she had no idea how it was going to turn out. It was three AM and once again she couldn’t sleep. She’d lain there tossing and turning, thinking about her options. The problem lay about a hundred yards away in the direction of the woods. Searching for her courage, she stood looking out at the property she’d grown up on. Sullivans had worked the Triple H since her great great grandfather settled this land in 1889, the same year the state of Montana was admitted into the Union.

And this year, they’d almost lost every fence post, every single blade of grass. She’d almost lost the home she’d grown up in, her daddy’s prized horses, her mother’s fine china.

It had been a terrible time for them all, but they’d got through it. They’d persevered. They’d endured. Because that was what people who worked the land did. Their salvation had come in the form of Eliza, and Sarah couldn’t be more grateful to another human being, not just for saving the ranch but, more importantly, for loving Nat.

Her dad always said if it came easy it wasn’t worth spit. But it sure was nice to catch a break once in a while.

Sarah had always been the “good girl,” the one who worked hard, made good grades, and respected her elders. She had gone away for medical school but had missed the ranch. She’d managed to find a residency close by and moved home as soon as she’d finished her studies. Her college tuition had cost a fortune, and she owed her parents everything, but more than that, she was a homebody. She loved this land, figured it was the most beautiful place on the planet. When first her father, then Becky became ill, her medical training had helped steer them through the process and understand their options. Afterwards, with Ryan pretty much losing his mind, and then their mother suffering a heart attack, Nat had needed her, and so had her baby niece. Sarah had never regretted her decision to stay, felt almost guilty to be so blessed. She was proud of herself, of her job, and of her values, but she was sick of being the good girl. After months—if not years—of being too scared to go after what she really wanted, she’d made up her mind. She was done waiting for life to happen to her. This was her decision to make. Her heart that risked being broken.

It had snowed earlier—a foreshadowing of what was to come. This year’s spring had been so late they’d barely had time to smell the flowers before winter had flung itself at them again, but she was used to it.

The change in seasons made her all too aware she was getting older, something she no longer took for granted. She saw death on a regular basis at work—she was an ER doc at County Hospital. But the last few years had brought so much personal heartbreak she wondered how they’d all stood it—three years ago her father had passed, followed by her sister-in-law who’d been the same age as she was, and finally, this last spring, her mom… Emotion welled up inside her, but she thrust it down. Tears didn’t help. She was done waiting for thickheaded, stubborn cowboys to make a move.

A shiver of excitement lit through her as she trudged across the thin layer of new snow. It crunched beneath her boots. There was just enough to shroud the earth in white and mark her trail in a very distinct path to the door of one of the cottages. She didn’t care if anyone saw the trail. She wasn’t bothered about being subtle or secretive.

They no longer rented out the cottages to vacationers; they didn’t want strangers wandering the property until all that noise from New York City had calmed down.
It wasn’t every day a mobster was shot dead on your property.
So the ranch hands had moved from the bunkhouse they’d shared into a cottage each. Ezra took what had been Eliza’s cottage, and Cal moved in next door. Sarah marched determinedly to his door.

A wolf howled in the darkness, making the horses in the barn whinny. She had a shift starting at eight. She was tired, but determined. Cal was so respectful around her that if she waited for him to make a move they’d both be in rockers before he even held her hand. Instead, she was going to rock his world.

The dog wagged his tail as she climbed up the two steps and crossed the narrow porch. She opened the unlocked door and carefully slipped inside. She closed the door behind her as the dog settled himself in front of the wood stove that gave off a low heat. She quietly filled it with fresh wood. Some habits died hard in this part of the world.

She took off her boots, took a condom out of her pocket, and draped her jacket on the back of the couch. She wasn’t going to be put off with excuses. She was prepared for everything—hopefully. Even rejection if she’d mistaken reticence for indifference. Taking a deep breath, she headed for Cal’s bedroom. It was dark inside. Pitch black. She heard the quiet, regular breathing of someone in a deep sleep. The room held the seductive masculine heat of the cowboy she’d been in love with for years. She slipped the clingy wool dress over her head and let it fall to the floor. She wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Moving tentatively she found the brass bedpost—and wrapped her fingers over the cold newel. What would she do if he rejected her? She bit her lip.

Fear of rejection had kept her worshipping this man from afar for years. Too scared to act. Too scared to make the first move. Now she was naked in his bedroom, and it was a little late for second thoughts.

She’d first seen Caleb Landon with her big brother, Nat, when he’d been thirteen years old and she’d been a wide-eyed pre-teen. He’d been the town bad boy, easy on the eyes, a glint of the devil in his smile. She’d loved him even then, although it had been pure hero worship that had made her squirm like a worm on a hook whenever her brothers had teased her about it. Cal had earned his bad boy reputation a year later in a desperate act that had taken him from their lives for ten long years. When he’d come back he’d been different. It had taken a long time for him to smile again, years for him to grow into the man he was always supposed to be.

She loved the lines on his face, the sharp features, the ultra-calm hazel eyes that noticed everything. She moved along the side of the bed, placed the condom on the side table, and eased under the duvet, slipping her hands around his chest to hug him to her. His skin was burning hot, and his breathing immediately changed. He’d woken up. She snuggled against him, her cold breasts pressed to his fiery hot skin, stretching her legs out along his much hairier ones as she eased her toes between them. She didn’t want to scare him, so she kissed his back, slowly, gently. Trailed her fingers over hard compact muscles that had tensed to steel. She moved higher and kissed his neck, nuzzling his short hair.

“Sarah?”

Well, at least he got her name right.

“Uh huh,” she murmured hoping to avoid a conversation that would end with him saying he didn’t think about her
that
way, he thought of her as his
sister
.

She moved her hand lower and found him already hard. If he didn’t start thinking about her
this
way after tonight then they were doomed and she may as well brace herself for a broken heart. She started stroking him, tip to root, and shivered in anticipation. She’d spent a lot of time imagining this. He seemed to hold his breath. She used her tongue on his back, tracing skin she’d seen but never tasted. Then, just when she thought he was going to say “what the hell are you doing?” he put his hand over hers and increased the pressure of her grip. He groaned and thrust against her palm, and she could feel his whole body trembling. “I’m dreaming.”

Sarah had never been sexually aggressive in her life, but she wasn’t a virgin, either. She’d had boyfriends in college, but no one had made her feel as alive as this guy did, or as uncertain. She’d seen other women looking at him whenever they went into town for supplies. He was hot, and he wasn’t a monk. She wasn’t prepared to watch him end up with someone else just because she hadn’t had the nerve to make the first move. As first moves went, this was a doozy.

She kissed his back, scraped her teeth over the smooth tanned skin, loving the feel of his unyielding muscles against hers. She could feel his taut body straining, hear the quickness of his breath as she stroked him faster. She nibbled his shoulder. The guy wasn’t helping at all, almost as if he was afraid to break the spell. She was fine with that, the idea of setting the pace, of controlling this first encounter was exhilarating. She reached behind her and grabbed the condom, ripped it open carefully, rolled it down his length, growing wet with anticipation as she eased him onto his back.

Springs groaned as she straddled him.

“Sarah, I—”

He was about to tell her he didn’t want this, and she didn’t want to hear it. She put her finger on his mouth, and he was immediately quiet. She rubbed against him until he was concentrating on her rather than talking or thinking. “I want you, Caleb Landon. Inside me. Please, say you want me, too.”

His hands gripped her thighs so hard there were going to be bruises. She eased just the tip of him inside her, and he growled as she rose back up—teasing, definitely. Taunting, possibly. Daring him to take what she was offering—to take a risk on
them
.

She moved her fingers lower, cupping him, massaging him until she felt him quivering beneath her thighs.

“Don’t you want me, Cal?” she asked, circling him again with her other hand. The words were supposed to be a challenge, but came out more like a plea. His hands finally moved, grabbing her by the ass and bringing her closer. He sat up as he pulled her down onto him; her eyes closed as pleasure blasted her. She sank down, taking him deep, and cried out as her body exploded. She came that easily.

That’s what happened when you went years fantasizing about a guy and finally got him where you wanted him.

He started kissing her then, not moving although she could feel him thick and hot, filling her. He ran his tongue over her collarbone, then lower, capturing her nipple in his mouth. She wasn’t big, but he plumped her breast with one hand and laved the sensitive nub with his tongue. Switching sides, he drove her crazy with the need to move, even as he held her immobile against him.

She squirmed as pleasure whipped through her. He growled as she ground against him, clutching him with her inner muscles when he wouldn’t give her the movement she craved. Finally, fingers digging into soft flesh, he thrust into her. She threw back her head at the wonder of it, holding onto his broad shoulders, wishing she could see him, knowing that if the lights were on Cal wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye, much less screw her senseless.

She intended to make that change.

He shifted beneath her, anchored her to him as he got onto his knees and followed her down so she was on her back and he was cradled between her thighs. He spread her knees wide and thrust deeper, harder.

Her nails dug into his shoulders with each movement.

She’d expected Cal to be a gentle, controlled lover—he did everything else with such slow reverence, especially around her. He treated her like she was sweet sixteen and never been kissed. But this was wild, this was ferocious, and she was right there with him, nails scraping his skin, striving to get even closer as he pounded into her body with no more reverence than a stag rutting in the forest.

She loved it. The pleasure was building again. The tingling anticipation and hunger for a climax spreading and making her wild and feverish as she clung, sweat making his body slick and hard to hold on to. She felt her orgasm build. Like a slow rolling tsunami it swelled higher and then crashed over her just as Cal stiffened above her and poured himself into a yell that seemed to rip free from his soul. Her heart pounded, her pulse raced. She wrapped her legs around his waist even as he pulled out and lay on top of her.

Slowly the silence built. Thick and deafening.

Crap.

She didn’t want to hear his regrets. She started kissing him again, slowly, tenderly, hoping he wasn’t about to tell her this whole thing had been a massive mistake.

*     *     *

Cal had thought
he was dreaming. He often dreamed about Sarah. Sexy, naked, X-rated dreams that would get his ass kicked and fired if Nat ever found out—not that he had any intention of sharing those dreams with either of Sarah’s brothers. Dreams he had no business having, even in his subconscious. But he couldn’t control them and had learned to live with them, knowing it was all he’d ever have so he may as well enjoy them.

So, until she’d straddled him in the darkness, and he’d touched the softness of her inner thighs, which had felt a million times more incredible than he’d imagined possible, he’d believed he was having a really fabulous fucking dream.

Then she’d spoken.
Don’t you want me, Cal?

Want her?

Want
her?

His heart raced as he lay on top of her. He must be crushing her, but he didn’t dare move, terrified of what she’d say. He closed his eyes. He’d wanted her for years, but she was his best friend’s little sister and an upstanding member of the community. He was nothing but an ex-con cowboy with blood on his hands. Enough people hated him and were more than willing to destroy anything in his life he cared about—if he gave them the chance. No way was he giving anyone the chance to hurt any of the Sullivans, especially not Sarah.

Her warmth curled around him as her chest rose and fell. Damp skin clung to his. Her hair brushed his cheek, the scent fresh and clean, like a pine forest in winter.

Shit.

Sarah was not some woman who’d come on to him in a bar. She wasn’t some no-name one-nighter, which was all he usually allowed himself. She was one of his best friends. Christ, who was he kidding? She meant more to him than he wanted to acknowledge, even to himself.

What the hell had he done?

Taken her with all the finesse of a teenage virgin—although to be fair she had crawled into his bed and wrapped her fingers around
his
morning glory. God, even the memory had him growing hard again. He went to pull away, but her lips found the corner of his eye and the caress was so sweet, so loving he couldn’t move. It held him in place as surely as iron bars ever had. Her tongue touched his ear, drawing out a shiver that was almost painful. Her hands ran down his back, fingers splayed over his hips and digging into his ass. He was planted between her legs, and the need to have her one more time crawled through his blood like an addiction, begging him to do it again.