One Night With a Cowboy (16 page)

Then again, she’d shared much more of herself with Tucker than she ever had with Billy.

Her laptop was out on the table, the staff directory on screen and scrolled to the
page listing the staff members with the last name beginning with J.

J for Jenkins. J for jerk, too, at least today. Maybe she was to blame for not telling
him about the interview at OSU. Probably more than he was for not telling her he was
only a part-time bull rider but a full-time soldier and teacher, also, as coincidence
would have it, at OSU.

Neither of them was at fault, really. There had been a lot of sex that night, but
not all that much discussion. Though there had been enough talking for her to know
she really did like him. Enough to regret they had nothing in common—or so she’d thought.
A bull-riding cowboy surrounded by sexy young girls all the time, and a recently scorned
and still insecure English professor from New York—of course she’d thought they had
no future together. Who could blame her?

But he wasn’t only a bull-riding cowboy. He was faculty, like she was. And now she
lived in Oklahoma, like he did.

Damn, it was a hell of a coincidence. If there was such a thing as fate, what was
it trying to tell them? That they should be friends? They should be together? They
should have more casual sex?

Who the hell knew? Fate should learn to be more specific. Then again, God helped those
who helped themselves. She grabbed the phone, punched in the number, and didn’t let
herself think or she might second-guess the decision.

“Hello.” The deep tenor of his voice, funneled directly into her ear from the cell
phone’s earpiece, sent a shiver down her spine.

Memories of that night cascaded over her. “Hi. It’s Becca.”

The dead air on the line during his agonizingly long pause didn’t bode well for the
success of this call. “Oh. That’s why I didn’t recognize the area code.”

Small talk. Okay, that was fine.

“It’s a New York area code. Dutchess County, actually. That’s about seventy miles
north of Manhattan.” And now she was babbling, and that wasn’t going to get her what
she wanted. “Um, have you eaten dinner yet?”

There was another long pause. Was that a cowboy trait or an army trait, this thinking
before you spoke? Maybe she should try it herself some time. Finally, he said, “No.
You?”

“I grabbed some cheese at the mixer.”

The sound of his laugh surprised her. “That couldn’t have been much, since cheese
guy planted himself there until the tray was empty.”

Relieved the conversation had lightened up a bit, she happily jumped on the topic.
“Oh, my God, did you see that? I think he might have had a plastic bag in his pocket
he was stashing cheddar in.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he responded, and then there was silence. Again.

He wasn’t making this easy for her. She steeled her nerves. “There’s a pizza place
not far from here that isn’t too bad. Maybe if you wanted to come over, I could order
a pie and have it delivered.”

“You want me to come over there?”

She could hear in his voice, Tucker wasn’t sure of her. “Yes. Unless you have other
plans.”

“No. No other plans.”

“I can give you my address.” Or he could laugh at her for even asking him to come
over. She felt like a shy teenager again. Didn’t that life stage ever end?

“I don’t need it. Your address is listed in the faculty directory.”

What did this mean? He was coming over? And wait, had he been looking her up in the
directory to call her just as she had been looking him up? This uncertainty was agonizing.
“So, I’ll call the pizza place and order a delivery?”

“Forget the pizza. I can do way better than that. I’ll be over in about thirty minutes.”

“Oh, okay. Great. See you then.” Her heart began to race as she heard him disconnect
the call.

Things were still far from better, judging by their stilted, awkward conversation.
He hadn’t exactly been warm and fuzzy, but he was coming over and that was a good
start.

And he’d be here in thirty minutes. She had half an hour to get herself and the apartment
ready. She turned from the mug she’d left on the coffee table that morning, to the
suit jacket tossed on the back of the sofa. And crap, she remembered her pajamas were
still draped on the towel rack in the bathroom, and she’d never gotten around to making
the bed.

There was too much to do. She flipped the laptop shut and held it to her chest, and
her head spun. Getting it all done was going to be a challenge, especially since she
couldn’t seem to focus on one task. Maybe it would take her mind off her nerves, because
right now, she was shaking.

Tucker was coming here. The man she’d had one incredible night with was on his way.
Strangely, her biggest concern at the moment was what she should wear. Emma must be
wearing off on her.

T
uck blew out a frustrated breath and ran his palm along the back of his neck, wondering
if he’d lost his mind.

In one hand he held a take-out bag from the local barbecue place. In front of him
stood Becca’s closed apartment door. And it felt like there was a ten-pound lead weight
in his gut as he considered what the hell he was doing here.

One short phone call from Becca was all it had taken to break down his resolve to
steer clear of her. Oh, he was still mad as hell at how she’d kept the Oklahoma State
job from him, but as his dick remembered the feel of her and twitched inside his jeans,
he realized his bruised ego apparently didn’t matter all that much in this situation.

Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe it had been just sex with her. Nothing more. Nothing
deeper. Nothing emotional. That would be good. Sex, he could handle.

Too bad all the evidence told him it wasn’t. If it had been just physical, he wouldn’t
have been nearly as pissed or hurt that she had waltzed away from him that morning.
And without a second glance or a word about her impending move to his own damn town.

The food in the bag was getting cold, and if he knew anything at all, it was that
delaying this little reunion wouldn’t make it any easier. Though maybe a little more
procrastination wouldn’t hurt. After all, ribs were still pretty damn tasty at room
temperature . . .

Crap. A man shouldn’t have this many thoughts in his head. That’s why he liked bull
riding—get a clear head, get in the chute, try not to get bucked off. Easy. Bull riding
was simple, but women? Women were not. He should have said no to her invite. A smart
man would have.

He obviously was not a smart man. He raised his fist and knocked on the wooden door
hard enough to make his knuckles sting.

She opened the door before he had a chance to change his mind and run away. At this
point seeing Becca face to face was both a blessing and a curse. Much as he dreaded
it, he needed to face her. It sure didn’t help she looked so damn good and smelled
even better. That figured.

��Hi.” Becca’s one tentative-sounding word carried the weight of far more.

“Hi.” He shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other in the awkward silence,
before raising the bag for her to see. “I got dinner.”

“Thank you. Come on in.” She took a step back from the door, and he followed her lead,
entering the apartment.

He glanced around the space, which looked like most apartments around campus, only
with a hell of a lot more books. “Nice place.”

“Thanks. I still have some to do. Unpacking. Hanging some things on the walls.” She
closed the door behind him and flipped both locks.

He watched with a raised brow. He was all for safety, especially when a woman lived
alone, but did she really think anyone was getting past him? With all of his training,
he could take a man down with his bare hands, even without the folding knife he kept
stashed in his jeans pocket.

Then again, Becca didn’t know that. He supposed he should be happy she was double-locking
the door with him on the inside and not on the outside. That had to be a good sign.

He remembered the food and put the bag on the island between the kitchen and the living
area. “Not a problem. There’s a take-out menu in the bag so you’re not stuck ordering
only campus pizza every night.”

“Thank you. So, I guess I’ll get us forks and plates.”

“Knives, too, if you’ve got any. There’s a rack of ribs and some brisket. Though they
smoke the meat all day so you can pretty much cut it with a fork.”

“Mmm. It smells great.”

All he could smell was her. What was that light scent that assaulted his nose and
made parts lower harden? Soap? Perfume? Just Becca? And she was wearing jeans. In
the black suit she’d worn to the party he might have been able to resist her. But
in bottom-hugging denim that reminded him so much of watching her peel her jeans off
that night, he was fading fast. Not to mention that little blue tank top that accentuated
her assets so nicely.

He watched her move around the island and pull open one drawer and then another.

She glanced up and cringed. “I’m still trying to figure out where I finally put things.
First I put the utensils in the drawer closest to the island, where I’ll be using
them most, but then I thought they should probably go near the dishwasher.”

Becca looked at him once more, and then away, concentrating overly hard on counting
out two of everything for them to eat with. She was nervous. He could tell by the
way she rambled. It was her tell, talking too much and a little too fast . . . And
wasn’t it insane he knew that about her after just one night together?

Tuck pushed that thought aside and shrugged. “It takes time to get used to a new place.”

“I guess. Oh, I haven’t offered you anything to drink. I have soda, but it’s diet
. . .” There was that cringe again. “I have red wine, but no beer. Sorry. I should
have run out and—”

“Don’t worry.” He held up one hand to stop her apology. “Water is fine for me.” Better
actually. He didn’t need his already wobbly judgment affected by alcohol.

“Water, I have.” She smiled and then frowned at the cabinets. “The glasses are . .
. Above the sink, I think.”

Dammit, why was she so adorable? The girl couldn’t even find where she’d put her own
stuff, and it was making it really hard to stay mad at her. “I’ll get it.”

He stepped around the island and toward the cabinet, which would have been way too
high over her head for her to reach anything anyway. It was a dumb place to put everyday
glassware in his opinion. She moved in the same direction he did, and they crashed
against each other hard enough to knock his breath out of him with an oomph.

He reached out to steady her.

“I’m sorr—” Becca never quite finished the word. Her eyes went soft as they gazed
into his, and Tuck found his hands were no longer safely on her arms but now down
holding on to her hips. Those round, beautiful hips he’d held on to for dear life
while plunging into her in the hotel.

Tuck swallowed hard and found it hard to breathe. The situation only got worse when
she took a single step closer, putting her dangerously near the rising erection in
his jeans. He drew in a deep breath, which filled him again with her scent. It was
all too much.

There was no fighting this attraction. Tuck dipped his head low and claimed Becca’s
mouth with his own. When her lips parted for his tongue, he knew their dinner was
definitely going to get cold, and he couldn’t have cared less.

He pulled her hips tighter against him, knowing she could feel him outlined in his
jeans. She moaned low and sexy in her throat and pressed closer. He wanted her as
much as he had that first night, and by all indications, she felt the same . . . And
he didn’t have a condom. He pulled his mouth away.

“Crap.” With a loud sigh, he took one giant step back.

“What’s wrong?” Becca’s voice broke on the question.

He let out a short, sad laugh. “Nothing you did, darlin’. No condoms. I came expecting
to eat barbecue. Not to . . .” He bowed his head and spread his hands to indicate
the space now separating them.

Becca took a step forward and narrowed the distance. “I’m on the pill, if that helps
any.”

They didn’t have to worry about a condom for disease prevention. He was pretty sure
Becca wasn’t the type to sleep around. That night with him had been the exception,
not the rule. He’d used protection every time he’d been with anyone since his divorce,
and the army required he be tested every six months. He could slide into her and have
nothing between them. Her revelation nearly destroyed his last bit of control.

“Yeah, it helps.” He groaned and took another step toward her until his thigh was
cradled between hers.

The birth control issue settled, he thrust his hands into Becca’s thick hair and crashed
against her mouth again. It felt so good to kiss this woman. That’s what made it even
crazier when a niggling thought broke into his pleasure. A thought that had him pulling
away. “Wait. Were you on the pill the last time?”

“Yes.”

He frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

And why the hell was he talking now?

Because he needed to know, which was insane. But it seemed Becca had kept quite a
few things from him. He’d had a woman like that in his life already. In fact, he was
still sending her monthly spousal support checks and would be for the next year.

“I didn’t tell you that night because I didn’t really know you then, and we had all
those condoms so it wasn’t an issue.”

It made sense. He could understand that, but one question remained. “You think you
know me better now?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

This could lead to a whole long conversation, but he didn’t want talk. He wanted Becca.
Her excuse was good enough—for now. Tuck ran his hands up and down her arms, his suspicious
mind satisfied enough to allow him to listen to his dick for a little while. If things
continued as they were he’d have her very soon, and that thought alone broke the last
semblance of his control.

He scooped her into his arms. She let out a squeal when her feet left the floor.

“Bedroom?” His growled word came out sounding more like an order than a question.

She bit her lip and looked at him even more enticingly than she had in his many dreams
about her. “To the right of the front door.”

He angled both of their bodies past the island and reached the bedroom doorway with
a few long strides. The bed wasn’t king-size like the one they’d enjoyed in the hotel,
but it was still plenty big enough for his purposes. He dropped her on top of the
covers, following her down until his weight pressed her into the mattress. Tuck slanted
his lips over hers, sinking his tongue into her mouth.

The clothing between them was more than he could take. Rolling to one side, he reached
down and yanked at the button at Becca’s waist. At the same time, she pulled the hem
of his T-shirt out of his jeans. Pawing at her like he was a horny teenager about
to get lucky, he abandoned the tight denim for the moment and pushed the hem of her
tank up over her tits. The lace of her bra was no barrier. He pushed that down and
latched on to one nipple with his mouth.

She arched her back and pressed up. He took advantage of that move to reach beneath
her to unhook the bra’s back clasp. At the same time, she helped his quest to have
her naked when she pulled her tank top the rest of the way off and tossed it to the
floor next to the bed. She moved on to his belt buckle. He should probably have helped
her with that, but instead he was too busy enjoying a mouthful of Becca. He scraped
his teeth across her nipple. She hissed in a breath and ramped up his need to have
the rest of her.

“Oh, God.” Tuck hissed in a breath of his own.

He had forgotten how much her tiny sounds got to him. He wanted her naked. He needed
to be inside her. She must have shared that desire since she was yanking the zipper
of his jeans down. He agreed. They both still wore too many clothes.

Tuck rolled off Becca and stood next to the bed. He shoved his pants down his legs,
cursing when he realized he still had his boots on. With a few clumsy steps, he managed
to kick off both boots and jeans without falling over. He shoved his underwear down
to the floor as well, along with his socks.

Reaching out, he grabbed Becca’s hand. She came to him easily, until she was standing
next to the bed and staring up with heavily lidded eyes. He ran his hands over the
bare skin of her torso, then down to the jeans she still wore. His mouth followed
the path of his hands, kissing down her stomach as he unzipped her pants.

They worked as a team. She kicked off her slip-on sandals and he pushed the denim
down her thighs. He did the same with her underwear, the heat of her bare skin warming
his palms as he did. She turned toward the bed. Bending at the waist, she reached
for the top edge of the comforter. He supposed she was planning to pull it down so
they could get under the covers together.

He wasn’t in a bed kind of mood. Not with Becca’s heart-shaped ass poised so invitingly
in front of him. Definitely not while he was still nursing the mad he’d been holding
on to since the party. A pride-fueled anger he hadn’t quite managed to tamp down just
yet.

Nope, this wasn’t going to be the “snuggle under the covers and spoon afterward” kind
of lovin’. He was in the mood for some good hard and fast sex. If that didn’t scare
her off, they could get to the snuggling-in-bed part later, when he was more in the
mood for the tender stuff.

Stepping up behind her, he grabbed her hips and angled his cock at her entrance. One
thrust seated him firmly inside. She was that wet, and he’d be lying if he didn’t
admit it was a total turn-on.

His eyes slammed shut at the feel of her. He couldn’t see her or the room around them,
but he clearly felt the sensation of being engulfed by her heat. Clearly heard her
intake of breath as he sank deeper.

A shiver ran through him. He’d forgotten how good it felt to be inside her, and to
be uncovered and inside—it was enough to make him lose control. Tonight was going
to be one more thing that would make it impossible to stay away from her—not that
he’d done a great job of it so far. He glanced down to where they were joined and
watched his cock slide into her.

Nope. There was no way in hell he’d be able to stay away from her after this.

She made one of those little noises that made him want to take a bite out of her,
and he realized he was in real danger with this girl. And not only because of how
good it felt to slide into her. No, it was everything from how she couldn’t find the
silverware in her own kitchen to the adorable way she bit her lip.