Cowboy's Pride (Welcome to Covendale Book 1) (11 page)

She reached for him, but he grabbed her wrist. “Don’t,” he rasped. “You touch me right now, and I’m done. I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Then hurry.”

She got ready herself while he removed the last barrier, glad she’d worn pants with some stretch to them. Her panties were damp, and she almost ripped them trying to get them down. One glimpse of his big, thick cock had her insides quivering.

“How—” she started to say before his hands went to her waist and lifted, taking her breath away. He set her on the edge of the sink. The brief cold of chrome against her skin made her gasp, but she wasn’t cold for long.

He growled and plunged into her, a single smooth thrust. She cried out and grabbed for his back with shaking hands. He filled her completely. Nothing had ever felt this good.

Until he started rocking in long, deep strokes that sizzled every nerve he touched. And it felt even better.

She clung to him and urged him faster, loving the feel of that thick cock stretching her. The fluttery feeling in her thighs migrated up through her, until everything tingled and sang and she thought she might actually explode.

He thrust in deep with an animal cry. A shudder convulsed him, and the vibration pushed her over the edge into a blinding whole-body orgasm. Then the heat of him slid out, leaving her deliciously aching as he gasped through his own climax.

When the shakes stopped, he pulled her close with one arm and bent to nuzzle her neck. “Get dressed,” he said hoarsely.

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because I’m still ready. And I want to do it right this time.”

She glanced down. His cock was half-hard again already. “My God,” she said. “That wasn’t enough?”

His smile set her on fire. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

She got dressed. Fast.

* * * *

Cam carried her up the stairs and into his bedroom. She could really get used to this. He was so warm and solid and safe. Not to mention the hottest man she’d ever laid eyes on. Then, now, and always. If it wasn’t for the very real sensations coursing through her body, she would’ve thought she was dreaming.

They were lying on the bed with their shoes off, and he’d propped on an elbow next to her. For a few minutes he just stared at her, running his fingers lightly across her arm and down her side. His green-gold eyes shone in amazement. “Are you really here?” he whispered. “Because if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.”

She smiled. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Sydney.” His voice caught on her name, and she shivered. “Are you really…I mean, you’re not going to marry Tommy. Right?”

Her face twisted in disgust. “Hell no.”

“Good. He’s wrong for you.”

“And you know somebody who’s right?”

“I do.”

He kissed her, and all her thoughts went away.

She was dizzy with need when he stopped. “Take this off,” she said, plucking at his shirt. “Please. God, I want to look at you.”

He froze, as if she’d asked him to jump out a window. “I…don’t know if you should,” he said slowly.

“Why? I’ve already seen you without a shirt.”

“Shit. I know, but—” He bowed his head. “Okay, look. This isn’t going to make much sense right away, but bear with me.”

Concern made her heart beat frantically. “I’m listening,” she said.

“Right. Here goes.” He released a long breath. “All that stuff about my mother, and Tommy, everything that’s happened here…I haven’t told anybody. I got to thinking that no one cared, so I had to handle everything myself. And there’s something else I haven’t mentioned. Something that’s still going on.”

“What is it?” She reached out and took his hand. “You can trust me.”

His fingers tightened convulsively on hers. “You don’t know how hard that is for me,” he said. “But I said I wanted to make a clean start with you, and I mean it. So I have to be honest with you.”

“Cam. Please tell me what’s happening.”

He nodded. “It’s Boyd Lowell,” he said. “Him and Tommy are trying to force me off the ranch, so he can sell it to some developer for a golf course. It hasn’t been easy turning a profit here, and I’m behind on property taxes.” His breath shuddered out of him. “I’ve got until Monday to come up with fifteen thousand dollars, or I lose my home to Lowell.”

“Oh, God.” Tears scalded her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. “Tommy said his father was closing a big deal soon. This must be what he meant—and that’s why he told me not to talk to you.” She shivered again, and whispered, “That’s why you sold your bike, too.”

“Yes. But that’s not all I did.” He dropped his gaze and let go of her hand. “Now we’re getting to the relevant part,” he said. “I’ve got the money, so I can pay the bank on Monday. But I had to borrow the rest.”

“From where?”

He grimaced. “Eddie Verona.”

“Oh, no…” She knew all about the man. Luka’s oldest brother worked for him—basically as a human bone-breaker. She must’ve heard a dozen or more stories about the people Jonah had intimidated, beaten and broken. Or the people Eddie had killed. “What did he do to you?”

“Not much, considering.”

“Define not much.”

He met her gaze and unbuttoned his shirt, slowly. She gasped as he revealed a huge, dull purple bruise spreading along his ribs and across his side. “Jonah did that?”

“Last night. But it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

He flashed a wicked smile. “Not as much as having you in my bed, and not touching you.”

His words alone almost melted her. “Are you sure?” she whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Remember what happened in the kitchen just now?” he said. “You won’t hurt me, Sydney.” He slid the black cotton from his shoulders, just as teasing as any stripper. “Let me prove it. Touch me.”

Good God. All that sun-bronzed skin made her mouth water. She reached out and ran a hand lightly across the expanse of his chest, feeling every rock-hard inch of him glide along her palm.

He caught her hand and held it against his heart. It beat hard and fast, like a caged rabbit. “Christ, what you do to me,” he said. “There aren’t any words for it.”

She smiled. “Then show me.”

With a groan, he reached down and lifted her just enough to slide her shirt up, pulling it gently over her head and off. His fingertips whispered across the sheer black lace of her bra, and her nipples hardened at his touch. She arched up with a gasp.

He lowered himself and kissed her, long and languid, until she shivered with pleasure. She didn’t notice anything but his hot mouth—until he captured both her wrists in one broad hand and pinned them over her head. “I want to take my time with you,” he rasped. “So I’ll just help you stay patient.”

Before she could say anything, he started trailing soft, shivery kisses down her throat. He kissed her nipples through the lace, one at a time, and then cupped a breast with his free hand. Another kiss, and her breath quickened with the heat he sent through her blood.

“This is gonna be a challenge.” He grinned—and caught the bottom edge of her bra with his teeth.

He pulled it up slow until he’d bared her to him. Then he went to work with lips and tongue. Every touch of him was liquid fire coursing through her veins, driving her to spiraling ecstasy. Being unable to touch him back was a sweet torment that only stoked the flames higher.

His own breathing grew ragged. He slid down further, kissing her stomach, flicking his tongue across her skin. She barely noticed when he released her wrists, because he was sliding her pants off and his lips were on her down there, hot and firm through the lace, and there was nothing but incredible sensation.

He used his teeth to peel her panties down, urged her legs apart with a hand. Then it was all off. More fluttery kisses on her most sensitive area. A quick dart of his tongue, and it was all she could do not to buck off the bed.

His hands clamped firmly on her hips. “So sweet,” he groaned. “Oh, you’re killing me, Sydney…”

He went back down. His tongue slipped over her folds, parted her and teased her clit. She thought she’d die right there. She’d never felt anything so powerful, so primal. He licked and stroked, dragging gasp after gasp out of her until she shattered on a cry that held his name.

When the world came back, it was Cam’s head on her stomach and the sweet ache of post-climax filling every part of her. She could’ve drifted off like this, never moved again. But she wanted more.

She reached down and stroked his hair. “Cam,” she murmured.

“Mmm.”

“It’s my turn to drive.”

He lifted his head to stare at her. “Say what?”

“Come up here.”

He did. And when he pressed his body against her, she pushed him onto his back and threw a leg across him. “You stay down this time,” she said. “Let me ride you.”

A hard shiver moved through him. “I’m not used to handing over the reins.”

“Well, it’s about time you tried it.”

A minute later, he was naked and ready. His cock was just as hard as the first time. She straddled him, took hold of that hot, hard length, and guided him inside her.

The sounds he made were delicious. She clenched around his thick cock, and he let out a jagged moan that ended in a gasp. His hands went to her waist, his thumbs stroking her hips with gentle circles. “Oh, that’s so good,” he panted. “God, Sydney…”

She tried to take it slow. Every exquisite slide made her hotter and tighter. Burning need urged her faster, and she put her hands on his chest for leverage and thrust her hips down hard. It didn’t take long to find the right rhythm, the arch and fall that drove him deep into her.

He cried out suddenly, at once lifting his hips and pulling her tight against him. She rode the swell as his cock twitched and jerked. At the height of his splintered scream, he pulled out in a single fluid motion, sending her body shuddering into yet another climax that took her breath away.

Utterly sated, she collapsed next to him with a leg still curled around his waist. She saw the same complete contentment reflected in his face, and let out a happy sigh that shook a little. “You’re right,” she said. “There aren’t any words.”

“There is one.” He rolled toward her and stroked her face. “Stay.”

“Gladly.”

She snuggled into him, and drifted away on a fog of sheer bliss.

Chapter 14

Somewhere, a bell was ringing.

The sound tugged Cam reluctantly into consciousness, but he ignored it. For the moment all he could do was stare at Sydney, still asleep in his arms, and marvel at her presence here. He’d wanted this for so long—and now he’d do anything to keep it from ending.

He heard the sound again. It was the doorbell.

This time Sydney stirred and blinked sleepily at him. “What was that?” she murmured.

He frowned. “Someone’s at the door,” he said. “Does anyone know you’re here? Because I’m not expecting company.”

“No one.” She was suddenly alert. “Do you think it could be Eddie? Or…Tommy?”

“I don’t know. But I have to find out.”

He was already up and pulling his pants on before Sydney could protest. “Stay here,” he said. “Please. I’ll be right back.”

“Cam…be careful.”

“I will.”

By the time he got downstairs, whoever it was had started knocking. He considered grabbing his shotgun, but decided he’d try caution first. The whole town already thought he was a trigger-happy nutcase, thanks to Tommy. He looked through the peephole—and saw an unfamiliar young woman in a blue shirt, holding a clipboard.

Well, at least she probably wasn’t here to fight him.

He opened the door. “Can I help you?”

The woman smiled hesitantly. “Hi there,” she said. “Are you…oh, my.” A blush colored her cheeks, and she stared at her feet. “Um. I’m shirt. I mean—I’m sorry to interrupt you, or wake you, or…”

“No problem,” he said, trying to put her at ease with a friendly smile. “You were saying?”

She cleared her throat. “Cameron Thatcher?”

“Yes.”

“I’m from the post office. Kyla is me. My name, that is.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What happened to Enola?”

“I am the weekend carrier, Mr. Thatcher,” she said with a prim little sniff. Then she looked up. “And I…oh, my.” Her eyes widened, and her blush returned as she let out a slow breath. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m really new, and this is my first certified letter.”

“Certified—”

“Cam? Is everything okay?”

Sydney’s voice startled him a little. So much for her staying out of things, but he should’ve figured that too. She came up next to him and sent a puzzled look at Kyla. “Hello,” she said.

“Um. Mrs. Thatcher?”

She laughed and brushed Cam’s arm, and a jolt of heat went through him. “Not quite,” she said. “Oh, you’re with the post office? I thought the mailbox was way out.”

“It is, but this is a certified letter.” Kyla tucked a stray strand of hair off her face. She pulled an envelope with a bunch of green stickers from under the papers on the clipboard. “I have to make sure you sign in both places for it. Very official, Mrs. Frasier said.”

“I’ll bet she did.” Cam’s brow furrowed as he accepted the board and signed where she pointed. This couldn’t be from the bank. He’d signed for the first one, so they wouldn’t have sent another. “This says it’s insured,” he said after reading the paper briefly.

“Yes. For quite a bit, too.” Kyla smiled shyly and handed him the envelope. “There must be something valuable in here.”

“Um. Right.” He couldn’t imagine what. “Thank you,” he said distractedly.

He turned away, and heard Sydney saying goodbye to the girl—nicer than he had, at least. The return address, penned in a flawless hand, was a P.O. box in California. The name above it simply said Kingsford.

He didn’t know anyone by that name, first or last.

A warm hand slid around his waist, and his breath caught. “What is it?” Sydney said.

“No idea.” He was almost afraid to open it. Finally, he worked the seam open slowly and pulled out a folded sheet of unlined, cream-colored stationery, written on a single side in the same perfect handwriting as the envelope.