Courting Her Rebel: (Taken by Cowboys: Part 2) A Billionaire Western Romance (6 page)

He removed the shirt, revealing a tanned torso, with sinewy muscles and a flat stomach with the ghost of a six-pack. His physique was long and lithe, she noted, in comparison to Spencer’s more built, athletic frame—but why was Spencer coming into her head now? She had a sudden fleeting vision of Spencer approaching her from the other side, massaging her shoulders as Nate unzipped her jeans. She felt rattled. What was that about?

Wanting to shake the image from her mind, she swung her legs over the edge of the table so she was sitting up. Her back muscles felt loose and pleasant, almost jellylike. She placed her feet on the floor and stood, then undid the button and zip of her shorts.

“How about a little steam?” he said. “It’ll help loosen you up.”

I’m sure it will
, she thought. “Turn it on.”

*

Spencer put his keys in the ignition and revved it up. The Dodge truck wasn’t sporty, but it was good for navigating the sometimes rough terrain between Big Horn and Cheyenne. Plus, when he needed to load up on supplies it could always be trusted to fit everything from crates of booze to fishing rods.

He eased out of the parking lot of the Tourism Bureau. It had been a productive day—he’d been able to check off everything on his list, from going to the central bank to getting his hair cut—when it came to keeping himself well kempt, he was still a city boy at heart—to submitting the annual paperwork to renew their tourism license. Now he had a good two hours on the road to himself before he got back to Getaway—and back to her.

Jess. The night he’d spent with her had been wholly unexpected. After dinner, he’d felt like he’d been driven to her cabin by some force of nature. Pleasuring her had given him more pleasure than he could have imagined. He saw her head tipped back against the wooden door, her beautiful face flooded with ecstasy as her orgasm sucked at his fingers in her slick passage. He shifted in his seat, hardening at the memory.

She had seemed taken aback that morning when he’d told her that she didn’t need to feel bound to him. She had looked guilty when he pointed out the looks that passed between her and Nate, but his intention hadn’t been to call her out. It was just that he didn’t feel right about making a claim on a woman he’d just met. As much as he craved her, he didn’t want to stop her from following her own desires. If those desires included his best friend, he would just have to deal with it.

He’d also said that he wanted to wait to take her again, to give them both time to get to know each to her—but by God, he didn’t know if he could stand it. He imagined arriving back at the ranch and going straight to her cabin, throwing her across the bed, and making passionate love to her. He merged onto the highway and put his foot on the gas, enjoying the sensation of sudden speed. The fantasy unspooled in his mind like the open road in front of him. Maybe that was exactly what he should do.

Nate went to the side of the room by the shelf stacked with bottles and flipped a switch on the wall, turning the dial slightly to the left. When his back was turned, she removed her jeans and with them, her panties. She felt a shiver of pleasure at being so totally naked. She threw the garments onto the floor on top of her abandoned shirt, along with her bra that was still on the table, and climbed back on top, chest down. A few wisps of steam came floating like ghosts from the seam between the wall and the ceiling. Nate turned around, holding a small bottle.

“Only one way to do this right,” he said. He uncapped the bottle and poured a small amount of oil into his hand, placing the open bottle on the table. She closed her eyes and heard him rub his hands together.

A moan escaped her lips as he applied his warm hands to her back. They slid over her skin with the smoothness of a wave breaking over the sand, emitting the aroma of jasmine and something warmer—vanilla. It was divine.

He ran his hands up and down her back in long, smooth motions, working his muscles with the heels. The steam filling the air smelled faintly of eucalyptus, joining with the aroma of jasmine and vanilla from the massage oil in an exotic, enticing mélange that was one part spicy, one part floral, and one part delicious. He ran his hands over her ass and down to her thighs and calves, which he began to gently knead.

“There’s nothing I like more than a woman with curves,” he said, working her muscles with his fingers. His touch felt magic—she didn’t realize how sore they were from the hike.

“You really are good at this,” she murmured.

“You haven’t even felt the half of it, girl,” he said. She felt her breathing grow thicker as his loaded words flooded her mind with possibilities. “Turn over for me,” he said, a commanding note in his voice. Usually she wouldn’t like a man telling her what to do—but with Nate, she found herself unable to resist. In fact, his words spoke to the desire that was now unfurling deep inside of her. She obeyed.

He poured some more oil onto his hands and began massaging her right foot. “Oh, god,” she moaned as he made circles with his thumb in the ball of her foot. She hadn’t had a foot massage this good since . . . forever.

He moved to her left foot, working out all the aching tension that she retained from days and days of running around the city in heels. Then he released her foot and moved to the side of the table, moving his hands up her legs. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate a woman with curves,” he said as they came to rest on her full thighs. He began massaging the muscles, sending surges of filmy relaxation rolling through her body—along with spikes of arousal as his hands stimulated her inner thighs. She had almost forgotten that she was completely naked until this moment.

He trailed his fingers up her hipbones and over the soft mound of her stomach. She felt no self-consciousness around him, she realized, and she hadn’t from the moment she’d set out with him to the pasture. That felt like weeks ago, even though it was just that morning. When he said that he loved her curves, she believed him. In fact, she wanted him to show her just how much he loved them.

He picked up the bottle of oil and poured a bit onto her chest. It was warm, like candle wax, and it dripped down between her breasts. He cupped them with his oiled hands, feeling their weight. “You have such amazing breasts,” he said, beginning to knead them gently. “I could feel them all day.”

His hands seemed to have spread pleasure to every inch of her body along with the scented massage oil. His touch, gentle but sure, was exactly what her body wanted—and exactly what it never knew how to ask for. She felt almost outside of herself, totally absorbed in the sensation of pleasure and relaxation that glowed like a halo around her lax body. Her breathing was getting heavier and heavier.

Suddenly his face was over hers, his bright green eyes seizing hers. She reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him down towards her. Their lips met and instantly they were kissing with the intensity of pent-up attraction finally released, his hands still fondling her breasts. She called his tongue further into her mouth with her own, needing him desperately.
Yes, yes, yes.
Her fingers dug further into his soft hair, pulling him deeper into her.

Suddenly he broke the kiss. She uttered a small sound between a cry and a moan. “I want to take you right now,” he said, his voice strangled.

“Take me,” she said, staring straight into his eyes. He swallowed hard, took his hands off her breasts, and flexed his fingers.

“Turn over again,” he said, the same note of command entering his voice. A thrilled ripple of excitement snaked through her belly. She turned over.

Suddenly, he grabbed her ankles and pulled them down. Her body was so slick with oil that she slid down the table in one fluid motion. She gasped to find her feet touching the floor while only her torso was still on the table. “Spread your legs,” he said thickly. Again, she did, feeling a jolt of excitement far beyond anything she had ever experienced. She felt a strange, wanton desperation—a need for him to keep commanding her. He put his hand between her legs and began slowly and lightly caressing her cleft. She mewed.

He moved two fingers in between her lips and played with her clit. She gasped, then felt him pull away.
No! Please no! Come back! More, please more!
her desire shouted. She was about to turn around when she heard him say, “Stay right where you are. I love the view from here.”

She heard the sound of his belt buckle clinking, and then his pants hitting the floor. She felt a rush of excitement that bordered on faintness. She had never been taken in such a way—by a man she couldn’t even see.

Suddenly she felt the heat of his hands again as he cupped and massaged her ass cheeks. Then he dropped his hands, and with a gasp she felt the head of his cock on the opening of her passage. “I love how wet you are,” he said huskily. “You’re dripping all over me. You want me bad, don’t you, Jess?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She had balled her hands above her head into fists. The tension was going to kill her.

“How about a little louder?” he said, continuing to tease her with his cockhead. He moved it a millimeter inside her.

“Yes,” she choked at something closer to a normal voice. She could now feel his substantial girth.

“I think you can do a little better than that,” he said, moving another fraction of an inch inside her.

“Yes!” she yelled, squeezing her eyes tight shut. “Yes, I want you bad, I want you so bad.”

He drove inside her, piercing her to her core. She cried out and her eyes flew open. He was so long and thick that the sudden penetration was painful for a moment—but then it quickly gave way to divine pleasure.

He began rocking slowly, letting her feel him awaken every nerve. “My god, Jess,” he breathed. “You feel better than I could have ever imagined. You’re so wet and so tight.”

She moaned, unable to form words. The pleasure was too much. She brought her hands up on the table above her head to steady herself. Nate put his hands on her hips and began rocking with slightly more force and speed. Her moans grew louder and louder. Every time she thought that her pleasure couldn’t increase any more, it did.

He reached around and, still thrusting, began to tickle her G-spot. She cried out incoherently, her legs trembling like leaves. If Nate hadn’t been holding her hips, she was sure they would have collapsed under her. “The sounds you’re making are killing me,” he said in a choked voice, his breath now a pant. “I love hearing you so turned on. I have to slow myself down.”

He withdrew his cock from her slightly, making her cry out, this time with need. Ever so slowly, he eased himself back in. She shuddered deeply with the fresh sensation of his length and thickness. Once again he repeated the maneuver, withdrawing himself almost completely, waiting for her to cry out, and then slowly moving himself back inside her. Her hands clawed at the table. But he was the one controlling her satisfaction—and he was building it up far beyond the threshold she had ever experienced. It was half torture, half ecstasy.

He began thrusting again, deeply and forcefully. The relief was like cold water reaching her parched throat. She moaned with pleasure. She could feel herself nearing the breaking point and could feel him losing control as well.

“I can’t hold out any longer,” he groaned, thrusting harder and faster. “Come for me, Jess. Come on, come for me.”

At his words, she began to peak. Her climax had begun to mount not just when he entered her, but as she lay on the table and felt his hands awakening every millimeter of her body. The pleasure that was about to explode inside had been building and building, every muscle in her body shaking with the tension. Just as she was surrendering, the cry ready to tear from her lips, there was a scraping sound at the door of the room right in front of her eyes. Suddenly it flew open, and Spencer burst inside.

There was a moment where everything froze, like a still-frame from a movie—Spencer’s shocked face, Nate paused mid-thrust, and Jess caught between the two, filled with physical and emotional sensations that were too strong to distinguish or make sense of. She was suddenly aware of the warm steam, the scent of jasmine and eucalyptus and vanilla.

For a moment, she was sure Nate would stop. But she was also just as sure that she didn’t want him to. With a yell, he pulled back and then dove into her, a deep, penetrating, and powerful thrust that hit her core and broke her into a thousand pieces. She screamed, her face contorted. The orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, pure euphoria unlike anything she had ever experienced—raw pleasure shooting through her body, from her abdomen to the very tips of her fingers. It was not just one wave of pleasure, but many, each one more intense than the last. She couldn’t contain the wild, animal-like cries that were issuing from her mouth.

Spencer’s eyes were locked on hers the entire time. Her own gaze, she realized in the haze of her ecstasy, was just as riveted to his.

One ruggedly handsome cowboy is hard to resist. Two is even harder.

Jess Jones can't fight the mysterious attraction she feels to both handsome Spencer and charming, charismatic Nate. The men stage a contest to get Jess to choose between the two of them, because taking on two lovers would be absolutely crazy...

Or would it?

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