Bedded Then Wed (4 page)

“Hi,” she said when his gaze lifted to hers.

“Hi.” He scanned her from head to toe, then met her eyes again. “You look nice.”

As compliments went, it wasn’t the best she’d ever received, but knowing that Mitch didn’t dole them out very often to anyone, she decided to accept.

“Thank you. You, too.”

He was dressed in jeans and a plaid button-down shirt, the same as usual, but he always looked good to her, so the compliment still fit.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded, grabbing a light jacket from the coatrack beside the door.

“You two have a good time,” her father called out from his seat at the kitchen table. He waved them off, barely sparing them a second glance as he dug into his dinner.

Mitch closed the door behind them, then walked her to the passenger side of his truck and helped her climb in.

“So, where are we going?” she asked once he was behind the wheel and they were headed down the long dirt driveway to the main road.

“You’ll see.”

She raised an eyebrow at his less than enlightening answer, but he kept his eyes on the road and couldn’t see the look of consternation she shot him.

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of the Silver Spur, one of the most popular honky-tonks in Gabriel’s Crossing. Lights blinked on the roof and bright neon signs shone in the windows, advertising a dozen different brands of draft and bottled beer.

Emma had only been to the Spur a couple of times before and always with a group of friends because the bar tended to get rowdy on the weekends. But this was a weeknight, and even though it was a strange place to go for a first date, she was with Mitch, so she had nothing to worry about.

He came around to help her down from the truck, then held her hand as they walked into the bar. Loud country music blared, filling the early evening air and hitting them like an ocean wave when they pushed open the front door.

Men and women, most wearing cowboy hats of all sizes and colors, filled the wide, open room. Dancing, milling around, sitting at the tables and bar with longneck bottles of beer and bowls of peanuts in front of them.

Sawdust was scattered in clumps across the scarred wood floor, and antlers decorated the walls, along with a dartboard and assorted alcoholic beverage posters and signs. At the far end of the room, a live band played on a raised stage and a group of people—mostly made up of couples—line danced to the tune of a Texas two-step.

“So, what do you want to do first?” Mitch asked, leaning over her shoulder and speaking close to her ear to be heard over the volume of the music. “Dance, find a table and order some nachos, or sit at the bar and order a drink?”

She scanned the crowd, weighing her options. This was a far cry from the movie or dinner at a quiet restaurant she’d expected of tonight, but it could still be fun.

“Let’s get a drink,” she yelled back, tipping her head toward the bar.

With his hand at her back, Emma eased her way through the crush of bodies and hopped up on one of the tall stools lining the long mahogany bar. Mitch took a seat beside her and ordered two cold beers.

Since she hadn’t had anything to eat yet that evening, she sipped her drink slowly and tried to avoid their images in the mirror that lined the wall behind the bar.

It wasn’t her reflection that made her uncomfortable, but Mitch’s. He was too darn handsome, too tall and sinewy and masculine in all the right places.

Beneath the wide rim of his black hat, he looked like some hardened Clint Eastwood character. His eyes glittered in the low lighting, his mouth a thin line of indifference.

And yet he took her breath away. Every strong, familiar inch of him.

She dragged her gaze away, staring intently at the colorful label that circled the brown glass bottle in her hand until her pulse slowed to an almost human rate of speed instead of that of a hummingbird.

Even in a rowdy, crowded bar, surrounded by strangers and the teeth-rattling thrum of a noisy band, she was still unaccountably attracted to him. He hadn’t touched her intimately since that night in the barn two weeks ago, yet she still felt the whisper of his hands and mouth on her naked flesh.

She shivered at the memory and took a long swallow of her light beer to extinguish the fire sparking to life low in her belly.

When Mitch’s hand closed on her arm, she jumped.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

He was talking at a near-normal volume now, and she realized the band had slipped into a much slower song.

“Let’s dance,” he said. Then, without waiting for a reply, he slid off his stool and pulled her down to the floor beside him.

Fingers linked together, he led her to the dance floor, then swung her around and into his arms.

He held her entirely too close…not too close for society’s standards, especially in this place, but too close for her peace of mind. For her body to maintain its natural calm.

One of his hands clutched hers. The other rested at the small of her back, his arm wrapped around her waist. His tall form brushed against her in all the right spots—chest to breasts, stomach to stomach, pelvis to pelvis. Everywhere they touched, rockets went off beneath her skin.

If he hadn’t been holding her up, she thought she probably would have melted to the floor. As it was, her feet felt like they were barely touching the ground.

The music flowed all around them, and for the moment she let herself pretend this was more than their first date, more than two old friends who were toying with the idea of getting more seriously involved.

She imagined they were old lovers, maybe even a married couple, still very much in love. Out on the town for their anniversary, or perhaps just for an evening away from the kids.

The hand on her back shifted slightly lower, caressing the upper curve of her buttock and drawing her snug against his arousal.

It stunned her still that he was so obviously attracted to her. After all the years she’d pined for him from afar, to suddenly have him notice her as a woman and show sexual interest left her feeling confused and off-balance. Especially when he could make love to her with abandon one minute, then leave her hanging for two full weeks without so much as a phone call.

But he was trying. His suggestion that they try dating might not have been the smoothest invitation she’d ever received, and this might not be the greatest first date she’d ever gone on, but she gave him an A for effort.

And an A-plus for the way he made her heart beat faster, her knees turn to jelly, and her insides feel like she was riding up and down in an elevator car.

She sighed and closed her eyes, forgetting that they were in the middle of a crowded dance floor. As far as she was concerned, there was only Mitch and herself and the electricity arcing between them.

His rough jaw scraped her cheek as he leaned in close, his warm breath stirring her hair as he leaned in to speak above her ear.

“Want to get out of here?”

She blinked, raising her head to meet his gaze. His gray eyes burned with barely banked desire, and it was all she could do to remain upright.

She didn’t think, didn’t weigh the pros and cons, she simply responded in the only way her heart and body would allow. “Yes.”

He’d purposely brought her here, knowing the bar would be noisy and crowded. Knowing there would be no chance of him being overcome by lust and making a move on her.

Ha! So much for that theory. His brilliant plan had backfired almost at the speed of light.

It had started innocently enough. Sit at the bar, sip a beer. The decibel level of the music and surrounding conversations made small talk impossible, which he considered a good thing.

But then he’d gone and asked her to dance. What a colossal mistake.

What had he been thinking? If he was going to make such a blunder, he could have at least made the offer during a fast song or while people were two-stepping in a synchronized group.

But, no, he’d gone and asked her to dance to a slow song. One that required them to stand close, to touch just about everywhere.

And he’d willingly taken her into his arms, set them both to swaying. Only when he felt her breasts with their semierect peaks brushing against his chest had he realized he was in trouble.

But by then, it had been too late. The scent of her freshly washed hair and spicy floral perfume had invaded his nostrils. The brush of her hands and belly and hips had turned him hard in an instant.

And despite his best efforts to maintain control, to cool his jets and remind himself that he’d promised he wouldn’t sleep with her again, he found himself leaning in and asking her to leave with him.

To hell with their drinks. To hell with his vow to keep things platonic. He wanted her…now, with a single-minded determination that made him feel like a bull charging a red flag.

Their feet crunched on the gravel of the parking lot as he led her to the pickup and lifted her inside. Slamming the door, he stalked around the front of the truck and climbed behind the wheel.

Before the sound of his door closing had finished echoing through the cab, he was on her. Reaching out, dragging her across the vinyl seat and kissing her senseless. His hands were everywhere, groping, yanking, tearing her clothes away so he could get to her naked flesh.

She tasted of the beer she’d drunk earlier but also like Emma. Sweet, womanly, innocent.

Her lips met his, matched him move for move as though she could read his mind. Her tongue teased and tangled, parried when he thrust and thrust when he parried.

And her hands…her hands were at the buttons of his shirt, the belt at his waist, every bit as eager to strip him bare as he was to do the same to her.

Her willingness, her eagerness drove him, let him know he wasn’t the only one raging with passion, scrambling to get closer, faster, now, now.

He let her push the shirt off his shoulders and fumble with his heavy busting bronco belt buckle while he yanked her denim skirt up around her hips. He whispered a prayer of thanks when he discovered only a pair of sheer panties, with no stockings to bar his way, and wasted no time shucking them down her slim legs.

She had his belt undone by then and was working on the button and zipper of his jeans. He released her long enough to cover her hands and help her along.

As soon as he was free, hard and aching, he stopped, took a deep breath, lifted his head and looked into her eyes. She was staring back, chest heaving, her expression one of impatience and longing.

He felt like he should say something…compliment her, tell her she was beautiful or he cared about her. But he couldn’t think of a damn thing that wouldn’t sound fake or forced, and his mouth was full of cotton, anyway.

So he scrapped the idea of trying to be romantic or chivalrous and simply leaned in to take her lips. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and weaving her fingers through his hair.

Keeping his mouth firmly on hers, he laid her back along the seat of the cab and knelt between her legs. A small shift of her skirt and his pants, and he was inside her.

She was gloriously tight and wet and felt like heaven. He let out a groan of pleasure, resting his brow against hers for a moment until his breathing and heartbeat returned to normal. Well, as normal as they were likely to get when he was this close to Emma, this close to pure bliss.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained. He sensed rather than saw her nod and felt her slick inner muscles tighten around him in assent.

It was all he could do not to moan in sweet agony.

She was amazing. Open and eager. Fluid and graceful, but at the same time wild and uninhibited.

Holding her was like holding a live wire. And that charge, that jolt of high-voltage electricity, rocked him to his core.

He’d been celibate ever since he found out Suzanne was cheating on him, so it was no small wonder he was ravenous for a woman’s touch. It had almost been easier to simply grit his teeth and white-knuckle his way through the lack of sex in his life.

But now that he’d been with Emma, had had a woman’s silky skin beneath his hands and feminine body enveloping his, he couldn’t seem to get enough. He wanted her naked and writhing for him twenty-four hours a day.

One would think that for a man who’d been without a woman’s company as long as he had, any woman would do. But something told him that wasn’t quite true. Some part of him knew that if his dry spell hadn’t been broken by Emma…it might not have been broken at all.

In all the time he’d been divorced from Suzanne, no one had even tempted him to break his celibacy.

No one until Emma, up in that loft.

And now here she was again, letting him take her. In the cab of his truck, no less.

If he were any kind of man, he would stop what he was doing and let her up. Apologize and take her home. Or at the very least, take her somewhere decent to finish what they’d started—his place or a motel. Somewhere with a bed and clean sheets.

But he was too far gone, and he obviously wasn’t that noble because instead of pulling away, he tugged her legs more snugly around his hips and pressed forward until he was as deep inside her as he could go.

Emma couldn’t think, could barely breathe with Mitch’s weight on top of her. His heat, his intensity, the feel of him filling her to overflowing.

She wanted him to move, to give her what she needed before the urge to scream became unbearable.

“Mitch, please,” she whimpered, tightening her hold around his hips and neck.

Ripples of pleasure coursed through her and she gave a sigh of relief when he began to rock, thrusting into her with power and purpose. He wasted no time with added foreplay or spare caresses, and she didn’t need them. All she wanted was him—hard, fast, now.

He sped up, driving into her with increasing force until her vision turned blurry around the edges and bursts of color went off behind her eyes and in her bloodstream. She bit her lip to keep from crying out…then cried out anyway when her orgasm broke and washed over her in a giant wave of sensation.

Mitch thrust once, twice more, before giving a shout of completion and stiffening above her. His breath panted in her ear, his heart pounding against her chest.

Long minutes passed before feeling returned to their limbs and they were able to move. Mitch hoisted himself off of her with a reluctant groan, then helped her sit up and rearrange her clothes. Once everything was back in order, they sat on opposite ends of the wide bench seat, staring straight ahead.

After a moment of awkward silence, she said, “Boy, we really fogged it up in here, didn’t we?”

The windshield and side windows were smoky with condensation, blocking their view.

A beat passed, and then he let out a rough laugh. “Yeah, we sure did.”

He leaned over to retrieve his Stetson from her side of the cab’s floor, where it had fallen during their wild groping, dusted it off and jammed it back on his head.

“You hungry?” he asked, fingers flexing on the steering wheel.

Now that both her nerves about their first date and the intense passion of their quick joining had passed, she realized she was starving.

“Definitely.”

Brushing his shirt sleeve across the glass so he could see, he started the engine and pulled slowly out of the parking lot. Ten minutes later, they were back in one of the red vinyl booths of Rosie’s Café.

The diner was open till ten, but evening wasn’t a busy time, so only one waitress and one cook were working, and Mitch and Emma were the only customers. They sat on opposite sides of a booth near the rear of the restaurant and ordered glasses of iced tea and two plates of the special—spaghetti and meat sauce, with garlic bread on the side.

Normally, Emma would have avoided any type of garlic, onions and the like on a date, but since Mitch was having some, too, and they’d already gotten all the hot and heavy business out of their systems before dinner, she thought she was probably safe.

They made small talk while they wound pasta around their forks and sopped up red sauce with the chunks of garlic bread.

“So, how’s your family?” she wanted to know.

“Good. Mom and Dad keep themselves busy with the ranch, and I help out when I can.”

“And Chase?”

Chase was younger by four years but every inch as handsome and charming. Even though he’d grown up on a horse and cattle ranch and knew the workings of one as well as she and Mitch, his interests had always lain elsewhere. Instead of working the land, he found greater pleasure in the business world, buying up struggling companies to either help them revamp and have a second shot at success or breaking them up to sell off for profit. From what she’d heard, he was doing quite well for himself.

“He’s fine. You know Chase, he’s off working on some kind of deal again. Last I heard, he was in Chicago, but we expect him back soon.”

She nodded and wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin before taking a sip of tea.

“You know, what happened tonight…I didn’t plan it that way.”

He kept his eyes glued to his plate, so she had no doubt what part of the evening he was referring to.

“I told myself I wouldn’t touch you, no matter what. We were just supposed to go out and have fun.”

She let a moment pass, deciding how best to respond. Finally, she said, “I had fun,” before taking another bite of tender spaghetti.

She had the pleasure of watching his eyes widen and his mouth drop open slightly. But only for a second. In the blink of an eye, he caught himself and once again schooled his features into a mask of stern control.

Honestly, he was the most rigid man she’d ever met.

He’d always been serious but not this serious. She blamed Suzanne for the change, and it wasn’t a positive one.

Which was why it was almost amusing to do or say things that knocked him off balance and broke through that steely exterior. Lord knew someone needed to.

“Relax, Mitch,” she said on half a laugh. “For heaven’s sake, you’re acting like you personally escorted me to the lion’s den. It was sex. Incredibly good, incredibly hot sex. But I wish you’d stop apologizing.…You’re starting to give me a complex.”

He studied her from across the booth, and she could see the wheels turning in his mind.

“What do you suggest we do?” he asked in a low voice. “Continue having incredibly good, incredibly hot sex every chance we get?”

At his words, a bolt of heat lightning shot straight to her feminine core. “Yes.” God, yes. Please.

This time, he didn’t bother trying to control his reaction as he goggled at her.

“Are you crazy?” he hissed. “How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“How can you be so uptight about it? We’re hardly strangers; we’ve known each other since we were kids. If any two people should be comfortable around each other in just about any situation, it’s us.”

She waved her fork at him while she chewed. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m enjoying myself. The sex is great, very satisfying, and I like being with you. We haven’t spent this much time together since before you married Suzanne.”

As soon as the name passed her lips, Emma wished she could take it back. His mouth flattened into a thin line and his eyes turned dark. Just as they always did at the mention of his ex-wife.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, letting her gaze skitter away.

After playing with her food for a minute or two, she took a deep breath and lifted her head, determined to look him straight in the eye.

“All I’m saying is that I’ve missed hanging out with you. And if I’d known the sex was going to be so good, I’d have probably seduced you way back in high school.”

At that, one dark eyebrow winged upward. “You would have, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a nod. “Either you or Chase. I figure since you’re so alike in other ways, you’re probably equally talented in bed.”

That brought a deep scowl to his face, and she nearly chuckled.

Note to self. Don’t tell the man you’re sleeping with that you can find another man who can satisfy you just as well as he does. Especially if the two are related.

“Look,” she said when he remained stoically silent for so long, she feared smoke would seep out of his ears. “You’re the one who said we should go out for a while, see where things lead. So why can’t we keep doing that?”