Second Hope Cowboy (8 page)

“Tucker?” Hinshaw yelled.

“Do we have to answer him?” Tucker said through tight lips.

A second passed, then disappointment passed over her expression. “Yes.”

“Down here.” Tucker gave Hope one last disenchanted look just as Hinshaw came to the edge of the hill, looking down at them.

“Now, how the hell did you two get down there?” The younger man removed his dirty cap and scratched his forehead.

“Very carefully,” Tucker answered. He turned to Hope, holding out his hand. “Ready?”

She nodded. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips were still swollen from his kisses.

Damn, he wasn’t ready. He hoped by the time they reached the road the evidence of his throbbing need would have disappeared.

He returned his hat to his head and lowered it on his forehead.

It was going to be a long day.

CHAPTER FIVE

Hope left the bathroom, went into the bedroom, and a few minutes later she heard the shower come on. Tucker was naked, the spray of water touching all of the places she’d hoped to. She gulped air.

After Hinshaw had left, confirming that it was the radiator and he’d have it fixed the next day, she and Tucker had come back to the cabin. Neither had said a word about what had happened between them. He’d told her in a stiff voice to take the first shower and she could find more clothes in a box in the bedroom.

She looked around the small space and swallowed the lump growing in her throat. Nothing had changed. The beige paint on the walls had faded some, but he hadn’t changed it. She stared at the bed sitting in the middle of the room and it seemed to call her name. Undoing the damp towel she’d wrapped around her body, she let it drop to the floor and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Memories came crashing down. The many times they’d made love here, on this bed, everywhere inside and outside of the cabin. They’d explored each other like they were in a science experiment searching for a cure for their driving need.

They’d never had a problem in that area of their relationship.  In fact, she couldn’t imagine another man bringing her to such deep emotion as Tucker could.

Blaise was her lover, but had never brought her the same satisfaction she’d once known in Tucker’s arms.

And if Hinshaw hadn’t shown up and interrupted their lovemaking, she knew she’d be reeling now from a big O.

Her knees quivered.

The struggle of desire raced through Hope. She should get dressed and run up and down the hill, because running always relieved the stress, but somehow she knew she could jog until she dropped and the need would still be buried inside of her. Tucker had placed it there and only he could gratify her. That probably wouldn’t happen now—probably shouldn’t.

There was a struggle of a lifetime going through her body and she had no idea how to solve it.

Her mind and body were on different pages.

She’d be leaving soon. Once the radiator was fixed she’d be on her way, never to see him again. “I can do this,” she whispered. The words seemed to bounce back an echo of sadness.

Her entire body ached, from her tingling nipples to the sensitive place between her inner thighs—everything cried for a cowboy.

It would pass.

Sadly, she knew it wouldn’t. There hadn’t been a day since she’d left Tucker that she hadn’t wanted him—missed him. Seeing him again had awakened an intense hunger within her soul. She’d been willing to forget why she’d left for that moment in the grass.

She’d go back home, busy herself, plunge deep into work helping others. She’d move on—maybe with Blaise, if they got back together. Maybe things were too far gone. But she’d have to walk again and leave Tucker to move on. He deserved happiness—deserved someone that could give him a family—something she knew he wanted.

It’d been so long since she’d experienced pleasure—the kind that Tucker offered. Her body still ached from having him inside her. She needed a release.

With a mix of sorrow and tension, she laid back onto the flower-patterned bedspread, inhaling Tucker’s soap and sandalwood scent. Her nipples prickled. She closed her eyes and sucked back an emotional sigh.

Once upon a time, she’d been content here and on Havens Ranch with Tucker. Oh had reality spoiled their plans.

Life had driven a stake into the heart of their love.

She didn’t feel normal any longer. She hadn’t cried, laughed, panicked, gotten angry in a long time. She’d become numb.

To experience pleasure again—even if just a glimpse—brought her back to life.

If only Tucker would come into the bedroom and touch her again…

Doubt spurred her to take matters into her own hands.

She was as wet as she could get. Her southern lips throbbed and the burning desire traveled into her stomach. Visions of Tucker, naked, standing in the shower did crazy things to her body. She imagined him soaping his skin, rubbing between his legs. Would he masturbate with thoughts of her in his head?

Tingles shot through her core.

Her brain had always screwed her intention for release, whether alone or with Blaise. She’d almost felt a sense of guilt seeking pleasure when she’d crumbled her life.

The water splashed inside the bathroom and she brought her hand to her breast, rolling one nipple between her fingers, imaging it was Tucker’s mouth sucking the pink bud—molding them with his hands. Pleasure rippled through her.

She pictured Tucker holding his erection in his palm, gently squeezing the head between his fingers. Once she’d dared him to masturbate in front of her. She’d ached to know what his expression looked like as he brought himself to pleasure’s peak. Tucker had never been shy, and he’d easily brought himself to orgasm in front of her. Seeing him without inhibition, watching his hand move over the tight hard muscle was an image she’d never forget. She almost had an orgasm while watching him.

Was he pleasuring himself now?

Oh, how she’d love to run her fingers over the coiled muscles of his arms and stomach. To watch excitement slip across his face as she touched his length, pumped him in her fist. Tucker had always been a giving lover, an exploring lover. She’d enjoyed every second with him as he commanded her into release with his tongue, fingers and cock.

Lifting her knees, she planted her feet on the cover, still playing with her breasts as she smoothed her free hand to the apex of her thighs. Moist heat met the tips of her fingers. Her clit throbbed, begging for a touch. She skimmed the backs of her knuckles along the smooth lips before sliding one finger along the creamy slit.

She held her breath, relaxing into the sensitivity of the swollen bud. Her sex was slick with arousal, making it easy to glide her finger along the swollen curves. She wanted to loosen up, to allow herself a moment to bask in the natural release of her body. She craved Tucker…wanted him, but she couldn’t have him.

Nibbling her bottom lip, she imagined having her mouth on his body. To have her lips and tongue on his most sensitive part until he came and she swallowed his cream.

Pulses swept through her. She was so close…

“Hope?”

Oh. My. God.

She jerked her hand up and lifted her head, her gaze meeting Tucker’s curiosity straight on. He was eyeing her hungrily. So wrapped up in the moment, she hadn’t heard the shower turn off or the door open. How long had he been watching? What should have been a cold splash of invisible water across her secret moment instead made tingles bursts through her pussy lips. Knowing he had watched her turned her on even more.

She slipped her gaze to where his jeans set low on his hips and a good-sized bulge behind his zipper.

“I knocked. You didn’t answer.” His voice was thick and husky. As if he’d sprinted a mile.

“I-I…didn’t…”

“Of course not.” His eyes twinkled.

She stood at the edge of a cliff. She could ask him to leave, or she could invite him to stay. A tug of war between emotion and her future loomed like a dark cloud.

And in less than a second, she knew what she had to do.

“Join me, Tucker. Please.”

****

Tucker’s balls ached as he stood in the doorway to the bedroom staring at beauty at its most divine. Hope was his ex, which should mean something, but at the moment, he couldn’t think clearly.

She was spread across his bed, her long blonde hair spread over the pillow. Her flushed cheeks made her eyes appear darker. Her pouty lips were kissable pink. Her nipples were puffy and erect. Her knees were bent and her hands splayed across her stomach.

He was in trouble and he didn’t give a damn.

He teetered on a high wire and he had a decision to make. If he followed his utmost desire, walked across the room and climbed in bed with her, he’d have to face the consequences of tomorrow. Was he prepared to face the harsh morning light?

On the other hand, he could turn and walk away. After all, she’d walked away from everything. He could turn the table and prove to himself, and to her, that he was over her enough to deny life’s greatest pleasure.

But he wasn’t over her, and he certainly couldn’t come up with one good reason what walking away would prove. Sure, he’d get some gratification knowing he’d spurred her as she’d done him—but he’d never been a spiteful person. He certainly had no desire, even in the darkest places of his heart, to hurt Hope. He had a feeling if he followed through, he’d be the only one who’d be burned.

And he was willing to face the devil to touch her one more time.

To feel her body next to his, against his.

What they’d shared earlier wasn’t enough and had only left him deeper in insanity’s grip.

Putting all thought and concern to the back of his mind, he stepped across the room toward the bed and the beauty that beckoned him like a treasure.

When he reached the edge of the mattress, she lifted up on knees, her breasts firm and her nipples were as hard and red as cherries.

“My God, Hope.” His voice vibrated his chest. He bent and brought his mouth to one breast, covering the swollen bud and rolling his tongue over the tip. With his free hand, he molded the other pale mound in his palm, caressing the warm flesh, flicking the nipple with his thumb. She arched her back, a needy moan escaped her lips. Bringing his head up, he covered her mouth with his, meeting her tongue, licking her sweet and salty flavors.

Her fingers moved along his bare chest, skimming lower to his stomach and the waist of his jeans. He felt her tug at the button then the zipper before she slipped her fingers inside of his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his cock that was already hard and ready.

Needing to give himself some freedom, he pushed his jeans and boxers down his legs and his sex stood straight up, pointing at the ceiling. A sweet smiled curved her lips, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. He realized he wouldn’t last long. He wanted to take things slow and steady. To savor her body, to relish every moment, but his cock already pulsated, threatening to burst if she played with him too long.

And then things only got harder…

She lowered her head, her still damp hair sweeping across her cheek as she covered him with her mouth. His breath left his lungs as she sucked him in deeper, way to the back of her throat and the constriction tightened around his tip. She knew what he liked—knew everything about him, and her skill came with knowledge. She moved her lips and tongue over him expertly, rolling and sucking all of the fluttering flesh. Quick deep moans vibrated her throat, sending pulses sweeping up his girth.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him through a wide sweep of dark lashes. She allowed him to slip from her mouth, but she wasn’t finished and swept her tongue along the slit in his head. Watching her tongue move over him, the movement of her lovely lips was almost too much. A pearl of cum oozed from his tip and she dipped her tongue out and lapped it up.

Way too much…

Pulling back, he grasped her shoulders and gently pushed her back onto the comforter. He needed to taste her, to give her the pleasure he once took for granted.

He skimmed his gaze over her and sucked in a deep breath. She was more beautiful than ever. From angelic face to beautiful tits, flat stomach to the small patch of hair leading to her most sensitive part. He wanted to remember the moment, have it embedded in his mind.

Laying his hands on her knees and slowly sliding his fingers along her quivering inner thighs, he pushed her legs open to a wide V. Room for him to sample her wet pussy that awaited his taking.

He situated his body between her thighs and a faint smell of musk, and a stronger scent of vanilla, welcomed him. He slid his finger across the creamy slit…she was ready—damn was she ready— but he wanted to lick her juices, lap up every slick sweetness.

Using his thumbs to part her, he slid his tongue along the soft curves, and stopped at the pink nub to suckle the bead. Her body trembled and she moaned loudly. God, he’d missed the sounds of their lovemaking.

She bucked her hips and he needed to control the reins. He slipped his middle finger into her opening and rolled the digit around the tight, coiled muscle. He thrust in and out, in and out, her breathing became more labored. Her lips shuddered. Her back arched and her fingernails dug into his scalp as she held on for the ride. He laid his arms across her stomach, steadying her bucks as her scent became stronger. Her juices became thicker—tastier.