Rodeo King (Dustin Lovers Book 1) (6 page)

When he ran his tongue along the seam of
her mouth she opened for him, allowing him to plunder her moist depths until
she relaxed against him. Her arms slid around his neck as that sweet whimper he
hadn’t heard in six years sounded in her throat.

Victory coursed through him.

Bending slightly, Caleb slid one arm
under Rosemary’s knees and scooped her up. Her room was just down the hall and
he strode the short distance quickly, kicking the door shut behind him.
Lowering her to the bed, he followed her down, removing her arms from his neck
and securing them above her head with one hand as he explored her curves.

Caleb’s desire skyrocketed. He bent his
head and pressed his mouth to hers, an open, urgent kiss, their tongues
entwining in rising passion.

His fingers trembled as he went to work
on the buttons of her blouse, managing to free her breasts without ripping the
delicate cotton. Her bra fastened in the front and after a second of careful
tugging, Caleb filled his palm with silky flesh. He rolled one taut peak
between his finger and thumb, just the way she liked it.

Rosie arched her body and moaned into
his mouth.

Pleasure point two . . .

“Oh, God, Caleb.” Her voice shook; her
pelvis thrust and ground against his more-than-ready erection. “Please . . .”

He didn’t need any further prompting.

Crazed with need, he released her long
enough to strip off his clothes, as she yanked at her jeans. Clothing flew
everywhere in their frenzy to get naked, and then finally—
thank God
—they
were skin on skin.

Her curves had filled out in all the
right places, and he’d never wanted a woman as badly as he wanted Rosemary.
Caleb slid down her body to taste one creamy breast. His tongue laved and his
teeth nipped at the plump, pink tip. With a gasp she thrust her fingers into
his hair, tugging him closer as he moved to her other breast and gave it the
same loving attention. He trailed his mouth lower and her flesh quivered as he
explored every lovely inch laid out before him. When he flicked his tongue in
the hollow of her belly button, she sighed his name.

Pleasure spot three.

It might have been six years, but he
still knew what Rosie liked in bed, and he was determined to give her exactly
what she needed.

The silky red curls between her thighs
enticed him unbearably and he slid two fingers inside her snug heat. She was so
wet and ready, and he wanted to play longer, locating all those pleasure spots he’d
yet to explore. But if he didn’t get inside her in the next thirty seconds he wouldn’t
survive.

Rosemary must have had the same thought,
because she gripped his neck and urged him closer. “Please, Caleb. I need you.”

As desperately as he wanted to plunge
deep, he fought to clear his desire-fogged brain, long enough to remember
protection. Six years ago, stupidity and horniness got both of them in trouble,
though Rosemary bore the consequences. He wouldn’t do that to her again.
Not
until it’s completely right between us. Not until we’re ready.

“Condom,” he panted in her ear. “Wait.”

She nodded as he fumbled through the
pocket of his jeans, located his wallet, and dug out a crumpled packet that
thankfully had remained sealed and intact. A few seconds later he’d sheathed
himself.

Caleb rose over her as she parted her
legs, enticing him to settle against her slick entrance and edge inside a scant
inch. Her breath caught on a gasp as he slowly pushed inside her warmth, his
gaze locked on her beautiful face, tunneling his fingers through her hair as
the words he rasped broke on a groan. “I’ve missed you, Rosie.”

He paused, lifting her hips to meld
their flesh completely, and felt his cock throb wildly at the soft cry she
released.

“Oh, Caleb. I—I’ve missed you, too.” Her
legs curved tightly around his waist and she clung to him, her nails pressing
into his back. For a second she looked dazed, as if she couldn’t quite believe
what they were doing together. Then she gave him a gorgeous smile and wriggled
her hips. “Now move.”

He dropped his face to her shoulder on a
shaky chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

***

Maybe she hesitated for one tiny moment.
Maybe she was making a big mistake. Rosemary wasn’t sure. All she knew was the
rightness of Caleb, in her arms, inside her body.

Six long years of loneliness crumbled
into dust as she felt him, big and hard, moving with her in a sensual dance
she’d never quite forgotten. So familiar, she had to blink back the tears and
press her lips together to keep from sobbing out how much she’d truly missed
him.

There’d never been anyone but him. How
could there be? Caleb Johnson had owned her soul from the very beginning and
nobody else ever stood a flicker of a chance.

She curled her hands along his shoulder
blades as his thrusts came faster, dug deeper. His fingers would probably leave
bruises on her hips, but she didn’t care. Each heated breath he panted into her
neck, every broken endearment he huffed in her ear, pushed her need higher,
made her skin tighten and prickle. There wasn’t room for anything else. All her
frustration over the unbalanced situation between them, any insecurity she felt
for her son’s sake . . . it simply evaporated into nothing when Caleb covered
her mouth in a scalding kiss that rocked her senseless.

“So good—so tight—Jesus, Rosie,” he
groaned as their lips parted. His hair hung in damp disarray around his lean,
tanned face; under her hands his muscles bunched and released as he drove her
higher still.

Tension ramped her body into a fierce
arch that made her grip him hard enough to choke off his air supply. In answer,
Caleb caught the curve of her neck between his teeth and bit down as his hands
jerked her hips tighter against his driving thrusts.

She broke, shattering in a convulsive
orgasm, muffling her scream in his shoulder. Clinging frantically, she rode out
her climax as Caleb pinned her to the mattress and shuddered through his own
release. His chest heaved as he fought for breath; his hands had found hers and
their fingers twined together as if they both needed an anchor in a storm that
seemed to go on and on.

So much like what they’d had between
them years earlier. And she couldn’t have stemmed the overflowing tears that
dampened the hair at her temples. She didn’t even try; she let them fall while
her heart finally calmed and her muscles relaxed, her body going limp beneath
his.

Seconds later, she felt Caleb slump in
her arms, sated; another memory she’d missed like crazy. How he’d simply melt
over her when the last tiny shivers worked through his large frame, and their
damp skin fused together amongst tangled sheets. The best feeling in the world,
and here they were again. She loved it.

She loved him.

As Caleb turned his lips to the curve of
her shoulder and kissed the place he’d bitten, she realized it was pointless to
fight the inevitable. He was her son’s daddy. The connection between them
hadn’t lessened at all over the years, and it didn’t seem to matter what he
might have done while on the rodeo circuit or how many women he’d probably
slept with.

What mattered was now, this minute, and
what they built together as a result. Even as she admitted it to herself,
Rosemary had a feeling the toughest, at least for her, would be reestablishing
trust. But she was willing to try. She slipped her hands from his loosened grip
and twined her arms around his neck, holding him close, and let herself drift.

Emitting a soft protest as he moved away
slightly, she quieted when he murmured, “Be right back.” A soft rustle of the
sheets reminded her Caleb needed to dispose of the protection he’d used.

He returned quickly, gathering her into
his arms. With a sigh, Rosemary fell into a light doze.

Later—it might have been minutes or
hours—Caleb roused her by scattering heated kisses over her breasts. Then he
murmured, “I want to stay the night,” against one puckered nipple.

Rosemary turned her head on the pillow
as he moved his mouth to hers and nipped briefly, before facing her with sleepy
eyes and cheeks already shadowed with dark blond stubble.

So sexy; so very male. Caleb Johnson, in
a nutshell.
And he’s all mine.
At least for the moment. Still, she tried
it out in a whisper, her lips touching his. “Mine.”

“Yeah, I am.” He deepened the kiss, his
tongue stroking hers. The moment spun out in the warm, quiet room, the give and
take of their mouths echoing in the resurgence of passion that had him hardening
against her belly.

She arched, mindless with desire.
“Caleb. Yes.”

“Yes, I can stay?”

His attempt at lighthearted banter
didn’t fool her one bit, because she could all but taste the need pouring from
him as he slipped a hand beneath her and held her tightly.

In the midst of overwhelming emotion, it
seemed cold and mechanical to ask the obvious question, but she regained enough
of her common sense to whisper, “Do you have more . . .” She couldn’t finish,
burying her heated face in his neck.

His shoulders shook beneath her cheek.
He was laughing at her! She wanted to slug him, but his body felt so good, she
couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

“Baby, I’ve got plenty of, um,
opportunities to rock your world,” Caleb assured her solemnly, then slid
against her suggestively.

She shivered, moaned, shivered again,
before reaching for his cock and palming it firmly. “Then I guess you’d better
get that endless supply, cowboy . . . and stay.” Her breath snagged on a moan
as his flesh seemed to leap and pulse in her hand. “God, Caleb.” She coiled
herself around him. “Don’t go, never go . . .”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He covered her
lips with a hard, wild kiss.

***

“Mommy. Daddy. I’m hungry.” The childish
voice piped up close to his ear, accompanied by a cough and a sneeze. Caleb
stirred reluctantly, disoriented for a few moments.

Daylight flooded the room.
Rosemary’s
bedroom
. In a flash it all came back to him; the loving they’d shared,
interspersed with an hour here and there of exhausted sleep. Only to awaken in
each other’s arms and do it all over again.

Then he remembered how he’d ended up
here in the first place. Carson was doing much better but still not completely
out of the woods from the pneumonia he’d suffered.

Caleb eased his arm from under
Rosemary’s sleeping form. She muttered softly and curled herself around her
pillow as he sat up in bed and beckoned to his son. “Morning, buddy. Hungry,
huh? I can fix that.” Belatedly he glanced down to assure the sheet covered his
naked ass.
Whew, safe.

“How?” Carson crawled onto the bed and
settled into Caleb’s arms. His soft red hair was tangled, wayward ends sticking
up all over. With his cheeks rosy from sleep, bright eyed and eager for the day
to begin, he looked like an adorable, slightly mischievous cherub.

Caleb snatched him close and
mock-growled into his sweet-smelling neck, eliciting a torrent of giggles as
Carson squirmed away from the beard stubble Caleb tickled him with. “I happen
to be the world-famous blueberry pancake king.”

“Nuh-uh! Guys don’t make pancakes. Girls
do!” Carson curled his little fingers into claws and went right for Caleb’s
armpits in retaliation.

“Uh-huh. Guys make the best pancakes,
just wait and see.” Though he’d never been ticklish in his life, Caleb emitted
loud, chortling sounds as his son dug in with gusto. “If I promise to cook up
some amazing pancakes, will you stop tickling me and help me make your mommy
breakfast in bed?”

“You bet!” Carson jumped to the floor
and grabbed for Caleb’s hand. “Hurry! Before Mommy wakes up.”

“I have to get dressed first, champ.
Okay? And do some stuff in the bathroom. Meet me in the kitchen.” Caleb bent
close to his son’s ear and whispered, “We’ll start on ‘Operation Pancake,’
post-haste.” He cracked a grin as Carson whooped and ran for the door. His bare
feet slapped along the hallway and stomped down the stairs. The sound brought a
lump of emotion to Caleb’s throat that he fought to swallow down.

I want to wake up like this for the rest
of my life.

Rubbing at suddenly stinging eyes, he
smoothed the sheet away, then jerked in surprise as a warm, slender hand
stroked over his arm. Turning, Caleb brought Rosemary close as she wriggled to
his side of the bed and climbed into his lap, the same as Carson had done.

“So, surprise pancakes? Really?” She
nuzzled his cheek, before closing her mouth over his in a delicious kiss.

They shared nibbles and soft, morning
caresses, as more sunlight poured into the room and the sound of little-boy
feet clomping down the hall reminded them they weren’t alone upstairs. Everything
felt right in the world, and he couldn’t remember when he’d been so happy.

Caleb eased away first, with a lingering
kiss to one sweetly puckered breast. “My pancakes will make your tummy weep.”

“For joy? Or with heartburn?” she
retorted cheekily.

He gave her bare bottom a cuff. “Let me
up, smartass, and you’ll see.”

***

The kitchen rang with laughter as Caleb
and Carson made a shambles of mixing and cooking pancakes. Rosemary had run out
of blueberries a week ago, so her son decided nothing but apples would do as a
substitute. Worried her boy might actually try talking Caleb into letting him
have a paring knife, Rosemary positioned herself on a kitchen chair and kept an
eye on both her men. They balked at her interference but were mollified when she
vowed not to lift a finger.