Indulgence (298 page)

He let my nipple go and raised his head to look at me, his
need raw on his face. “You got any idea just how ready I am to fuck you?” he
growled as he pressed his erection into me.

Fuck.

I reached my hands to grab the back of his head and pulled
his face to mine. Our lips collided a second later in a rough kiss; the kiss
we’d both been aching for all day. While he kissed me, he began tearing at my
clothes. My wedding dress was practically sewn onto me, though, and he quickly
grew impatient and frustrated with its removal.

Pulling his lips from mine, he complained, “Fuck, Evie, are
you trying to block my access tonight?” His gaze moved over my dress and I
could see his mind trying to figure out the best way to get it off.

I pushed him off me and moved off the bed. Turning around to
show him the back of the dress, I said, “You’ve got some buttons to undo, and
don’t even think of ripping it off. This dress cost me a fortune.” The buttons
ran the length of the dress and Maree had warned me Kick would get frustrated
with it, but I’d loved it too much to worry about that. Plus, I figured by the
time he got me out of it, he’d be so worked up that I’d be guaranteed some
rough sex.

He came to me and began working on the buttons. When he was
about half way down my back, he said, “Jesus fuck, woman, I was a fan of this
dress until now.”

I grinned to myself. Smiling sweetly at him, I said, “Sorry,
baby, I thought you’d like it more.”

He practically growled and his touch grew rougher as his
fingers worked harder and faster to get the buttons undone. A couple of minutes
later, he had the dress and my underwear off and he spun me around to face him.
I sucked in a breath at his face. I’d never seen him so desperate to have me.
And I felt that desperation deep inside.

I reached out to take hold of his cock, but he grabbed it
before I got there. “I think I’m gonna have to cuff you tonight, sweetheart,”
he said, his breathing growing ragged. He let my hand go. “Wait there,” he
commanded and walked to the drawer where he kept his toys.

After rummaging through the drawer for what felt like ages,
he shoved it closed, and muttered, “Fuck.” Looking over at me, he asked, “Do
you remember where the fuck I put the cuffs?”

Shaking my head, I said, “No.”

Without saying anything else, he stalked out of the room. I
did as he said and stayed where I was, hoping he would hurry back.

A minute later, he stalked back into the bedroom, no cuffs
in sight. I sensed his frustration and when he grabbed something from the
drawer and slammed it shut, I heard that frustration. Kick was not a patient
man.

He came to me, holding the roll of bondage tape he didn’t
use that often. Cuffs were his preference, or rope. But tape was quick to use
and I figured that was why he’d gone with it tonight. His eyes met mine, and he
said, “On the bed, baby, back against the headboard, arms up.”

Our bed had a padded headboard, which he’d insisted on for
my comfort. Attached to the wall just above the headboard was a wrought iron
bar and that was one of Kick’s favourite things in our entire house. It was
what he often used to restrain me. The bar was also one of my favourite things
because when he used it, I was guaranteed the best orgasms.

I sat on the bed, watching with anticipation as he came to
me. He grabbed one of my hands and taped it to the bar, and then repeated this
with my other hand. My core clenched; he was rougher than I’d hoped for, and I
loved it.

He dumped the tape on the floor and then took hold of my jaw
with one hand while the other one trailed down my neck to my breasts. His eyes
followed his hand and lingered on my chest for a while before coming back to
meet my gaze. “Fucking hell, Evie, even after all these years, I want you so
damn much.” He brought his lips to mine and kissed me while still holding my
jaw firmly. I could feel his need in his kiss, and my heart beat faster in my
chest at the thought of what was to come.

After he ended the kiss, he let me go and spread my legs
wide, bringing my knees up so my feet were resting on the bed. His eyes focused
on my pussy, and I watched as he fought to control himself. Kick was good at
making himself wait, but that didn’t mean his restraint was easy to achieve. He
had to work hard at it.

Shifting onto his stomach, he positioned his mouth so he
could lick the length of my pussy. I shut my eyes and let the pleasure consume
me. His hands gripped my legs, and his lips and tongue brought me to orgasm
faster than they ever had. I screamed out his name and fought against the tape
that was restraining me.

I need to touch him.

“Don’t fight it, baby,” he whispered as he moved and brought
his face to mine.

I opened my eyes and stared into his. Oh god, I loved this
man. “Undo me, Kick, I want to touch you . . .”

I hadn’t expected him to listen to me, but he moved off the
bed, grabbed his knife from the drawer and came back to free me. However, he
didn’t have plans for me to touch him. He grabbed hold of me and pulled me to
him. Then he moved a pillow down the bed and flipped me so my belly was lying
over the pillow with my ass slightly raised. He took hold of both my hands and
stretched my arms out on the bed above me while he lay over the top of me.
Pressing my hands into the bed, he grunted as he slammed his cock into me.

Hard.

Rough.

Yes.

He pulled out and thrust back in. “Fuck,” he growled against
my ear sending even more pleasure through me. I loved hearing his need escape
from his lips.

The room was silent around us except for the feral sounds of
Kick fucking me. Bodies slamming together, breaths coming hard and fast, grunts
as we both reached for our release, and, finally, the roar as we orgasmed.

Kick collapsed on top of me and I didn’t even care that his
weight was almost crushing me. I was lost in the pleasure he’d just given me.
Eventually, he did move off me to lie next to me. He pulled me against his
body, positioning me so my head was resting on his chest.

We were silent for a few minutes until he said, “Promise me
we’ll still be fucking like that when we’re sixty.”

I laughed and lifted my head to look up at him. “If I know
you as well as I think I know you, we’ll still be fucking like that when we’re
ninety.”

Grinning at me, he nodded. “I reckon you might be right
there, sweetheart.”

I moved so I was sitting next to him. My fingers traced a
lazy pattern on his chest and my eyes met his. Smiling, I whispered, “I can
only see one thing slowing us down.”

He frowned. “What?”

“The kids we’re going to have.”

He sat up, the look on his face changing. Staring at me with
a look of amazement, he asked, “Are you about to tell me what I think you’re
about to tell me?”

I nodded, a wash of emotion taking over me. “Yes. You’re
going to be a daddy.”

His eyes widened and a huge grin filled his face. And then
he practically crushed me to the bed and kissed me. He kissed me for an
eternity, and when he’d finished, he looked down at me through eyes that
couldn’t hide his love even if he tried, and said, “I love you, Evie Hanson.”

I looped my arms around his neck, and said, “Not as much as
I love you, Kick Hanson.”

He chuckled. “You might think you wear the pants in this
relationship, sweetheart, but I’m telling you now, if we have a daughter, I’m
the boss of her. And that’s a ‘we clear’ statement.”

I laughed. “Oh God, I hope we have a girl. Kick Hanson
scaring off boys . . . I want to watch that.”

He groaned, a look of pure pain flashing across his face.
“Fuck, that’s gonna be worse than dealing with men watching you.”

As I watched my man declare his love for me in more ways
than one, I realised how happy I was.

Finally.

We’d been through so much and we’d fought so hard for this
over the years. And we’d finally done it. We’d created our own family, and this
family would always love and protect its own.

Always.

Nina Levine is an Aussie writer who writes stories about
alpha men and the strong, independent women they love.

When she isn’t creating with words, she loves to create with
paint and paper. Often though, she can be found curled up with a good book and
some chocolate.

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by
Sandy Sullivan

Dedication

For the cowboy lover is all of us!

“No, no, no, no!” Mesa Arraguso banged on the steering wheel
of her rental car with both fists. The gas gauge read
E
. “I can’t be out
of gas! I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere.” The sting of heat from the
leather burned her fingertips. The stifling warmth rose exponentially inside
the car without the air conditioning running. It was, after all, the middle of
May in Bandera, Texas.

A rumble of thunder broke the stillness as she contemplated
what to do. She’d taken a drive to clear her head and jumpstart her muse for
her next book, not end up on the side of the road, out of gas, with no houses
within several miles.

This was cowboy country. Hill Country in Texas boasted some
of the biggest longhorn cattle spreads in the state. Several cattle mooed in
the distance but she couldn’t tell how close a house might be. At least cattle
meant humans…somewhere.

Large banks of dark clouds continued to roll across the sky.
Several huge raindrops hit her windshield with a loud
splat
before the
sky opened up in a torrential downpour.

“Just fucking great. Now fate is going to throw me into a huge
thunderstorm. Why? Because I was stupid enough to go for a drive by myself
during a writers conference in San Antonio and I ended up out here in the
middle of the country. Now, I’m stuck on the side of some dirt road, out of
gas, and God only knows how far from the nearest house.”

Lightning flashed, followed shortly by a loud crash of
thunder. Mesa jumped. A shiver raced through her body as her heart clenched in
fear. She hated thunderstorms.

Her cell phone beeped—the ominous sound of no cell phone coverage.
Great!

She glanced out the window and saw water rushing under her
car along a gulley she didn’t realize she’d straddled when she stopped. “Shit.
Flash flooding? I’m so screwed.”

As the water began rising rapidly, she realized she needed
to get the hell out of her car before it was washed away. In the distance she
could make out several larger rocks. “If I can get on top of them, I should be
safe from the rush. Of course, that means I’ll be out in the rain getting
soaked.” Fear rose, threatening to choke her with the lump in her throat. She
rubbed her arms trying to calm the chills while deciding what to do. She really
didn’t have much choice. Water ran in rivulets down the windshield. Lightning
continued to flash and thunder rolled over the area. She sucked in a large
breath as she bit her lip.

A moment later a
tap, tap, tap
on her window startled
her out of her thoughts. She jumped and screamed as a face appeared near her
door. Blue eyes with long lashes stared back beneath a black cowboy hat. Black
hair ruffled slightly with the wind.

“Ma’am? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You need to get this car out of the water. You’ll be washed
away. It’s rising fast.”

“I can’t. I’m out of gas.”

“Open the door.”

“Hell, no. Do I look crazy to you?” she asked, her voice
shrill with terror.

“Trust me. If I were a serial killer, I wouldn’t be out in
this shit trying to find women to abduct. I’m going to help you, but you need
to get out of the car first before we’re both swept away.”

Mesa bit her lip. Should she trust him?

“Ma’am?”

“All right.” She eased open the door to find the water
almost reached the bottom of the car. The cowboy pulled the door the rest of
the way as she grabbed her purse.

“We have to hurry,” he said, offering her a hand to help her
from the car. “Let me help you. This water is rushing pretty fast.”

A red horse stood patiently several feet away with its head
down, riding out the storm the only way horses knew how.
A
c
owboy on
a real horse out here in the middle of nowhere? Surely, it’s safe. I mean
serial killers don’t ride horses, right?

Her tennis shoes were soaked the moment she stepped into the
rushing stream, chilling her feet even though the temperature outside today was
a balmy ninety degrees. She shivered as the man pulled her from the car, but
chalked it up to her cold toes rather than the broad chest, wide shoulders and
trim hips of the cowboy in front of her.

Oompf!

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, setting her back from where she
landed against his chest. “Let’s get out of this downpour.” He slammed the car
door before he pulled her toward his horse. “You’ll have to ride behind me.”

“No problem.”

His ass looked fabulous swinging up into the saddle.
What
the hell? I’m checking him out like a piece of meat and the man is here saving
my butt from drowning.

“Ma’am?” he asked, holding out his hand so he could help her
behind the saddle.

“Oh, yeah right. Thanks.” She swung up behind him and
grabbed his waist like a drowning victim in the middle of a raging surf.
“Sorry.”