Deborah Camp (25 page)

“I hope whoever did that to you is burning in Hell.”

“He is,” she said, glancing up at Drew through her lashes. Tenderness softened the bold planes of his face, and Cassie’s throat tightened. When he ran a fingertip down her cheek to the corner of her mouth, her knees began to shake and her heartbeats boomed in her chest.

“I’ve been out communing with the stars, telling them all the reasons why I shouldn’t be with you,” he told her, his voice low, raspy. “I can’t for the life of me think of even one reason right now. Think of one for me, Cassie. Think hard before it’s too late.”

Her thoughts centered only on the gaping hole of longing in her soul. Stepping around him, she went to her open bedroom door. She looked back at him and saw the dawning of rejection in his eyes. Slowly she closed the door, then backed up against it and let her robe fall open, exposing the valley of her breasts, her stomach, the golden vee of her femininity, her shapely legs.

Her actions speaking for her, she saw fire ignite in his eyes, and in one decisive stride he was beside her and she was in his arms. He brought her lips within a fraction of his.

“This might be the biggest mistake of your life, Cassie,” he whispered, his breath warm upon her face.

She looked deeply into his hooded eyes. “If so, I’m woman enough to get past it.”

One side of his mouth kicked up in a rakehell grin before he covered her lips with his. His tongue eased into her mouth in an erotic rite of passage. Heat seemed to emanate from him and warm her through and through. Cassie drove all ten fingers through his thick hair and arched her body into his. He felt wonderfully big and male and powerful, but she knew she could tame him and have him purring like a kitten.

He lifted his mouth from hers. “Where’s the baby?”

“In with Oleta.”

“Good,” he nearly growled, then spun her deftly about and down onto her bed. He feathered kisses down her throat to the swell of her breasts, where her heart fluttered like a wild bird. “You’re beautiful, and I want you more than a saint wants heaven,” he murmured hotly, his lips dancing on her skin.

“Then take me, Drew,” Cassie whispered back to him, parting her thighs. “Take all of me.”

“I’ll probably disappoint you.”

“You won’t. You couldn’t.”

“You don’t understand. It’s been a while.”

“For me, too.”

His blue eyes probed her for a few heart-pounding moments, then he bent his head to her body and his mouth took one of her nipples into that warm, moist cave of sensation. Moaning involuntarily, she arched into him and her hands clutched his head, pulling him more tightly to her. Waves of pleasure swept through her, over her, drowning her. Colors exploded against her eyelids. His fingers—those long, clever fingers—chased
her other nipple until it was as hard as a diamond and as hot as a coal.

Cassie located his belt and unbuckled it, then pulled his shirt free and ran her hands up under it to his heated flesh. His chest and back were hard and sculpted with muscle. She bit into his shoulder, nipping him lightly, gnawing playfully. He sipped in a breath and rolled onto his back. She straddled him and let the robe slide off her arms and pool at her waist.

“You’re a damned goddess,” he told her, his hands resting on her waist, his fingers nearly meeting at the small of her back.

“And you are my sacrificial lamb,” she teased, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate laziness. “In a little while you’re going to be a mindless lump of manhood, putty in my hands.”

“I already am.” He sat up far enough to kiss her lips, then her pouting nipples. “What about you? You sure you’re ready for me?”

“Oh, I’m ready. Good and ready.” She’d unfastened his trousers and now shoved her hand inside and closed her fingers around him. He was ready, too. And a good deal more than she’d imagined. She widened her eyes. “Oh, my!” she whispered, the words carrying genuine awe.

He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s
another
way I’m different from my old man.” He rolled her onto her back, then peeled off his shirt. The boots and socks came off next, followed by his trousers and long johns.

Cassie was glad she hadn’t doused the light. Standing before her in all his male glory, Drew Dalton was a sight to behold and one she would not forget—not ever. The chestnut hair on his chest was thick and arrowed to a
thin line down to his belly button and past the nest of curls from which protruded his impressive, generously endowed, and engorged member. Cassie propped herself on her elbows and took in the sight of him. She swallowed nervously, smiled shyly, and held out one hand.

“You going to stand there all night like a frozen bull or are you going to put that to good use?”

He released a long sigh. “I just hope I don’t… Damn, Cassie, it’s been a helluva long time.”

“Then come here and quit jabbering.” She caught his hand and pulled him onto the bed with her. “Just relax and let it come natural.”

“Umm,” he murmured, his lips trailing along her jaw and then opening over her mouth. “You taste like a woman should taste. Sweet and juicy.”

She nudged her midsection against his and wrapped her legs around him. He tongued her nipples again until she writhed with torturous anticipation. She felt herself grow heavy and moist, and she clutched his hips and urged him to join with her.

He braced himself on his arms, his biceps bulging, and the tip of him touched her. Flame to flame. She felt herself open to him, and then he was sliding inside slowly, carefully, stretching her, filling her. Her breathing grew rapid as her feelings intensified. Warmth flooded her, flowered within her, and she trembled from the incredible joining of their bodies. Man to woman. Soul to soul. She rocked against him and he groaned and pressed his face into the curve of her neck. It was then that she realized the depth of his anxiety. That he should care how she felt about this, and that she gained pleasure from it brought tears to her eyes.

Stroking his back and whispering encouragement into his ear, she assisted him in finding a driving, surging rhythm that brought them both quickly, joyfully to the edge of release. When he rose above her on stiff arms, the veins in his neck standing out, his eyes tightly shut, Cassie stared, momentarily mesmerized. But then he pushed further into her and touched off an avalanche of white-hot sensations she’d never experienced before.

Suddenly she was soaring and tumbling and shaking within and without. She held tightly to him, his body taking hers to a place of mindless rapture. She was vaguely aware of his own spasms of release; they were almost violent and longer than any she could recall. Everything about him was different from any other man, and her experiences with him and how her body had reacted to his could not be measured against anyone else.

When she came back to her own consciousness, she realized her throat was dry and rough from her heavy breathing and soft moaning. Her body was moist with perspiration and her limbs shuddered with tender spasms. She felt as if she were lying in the aftermath of a storm, ravaged but splendidly replenished.

Drew lay sprawled on top of her, heavy but no burden. She ran her fingertips lightly down his moist back and along his spine to the dimples above his hips. She kissed his shoulder and nuzzled his neck.

“Are you dead or alive, Blue Eyes?”

“Alive. More alive than I’ve ever been, I think.” He raised his head to look at her. His face was partly shadowed, but his eyes were alight with twinkles. He shifted. He was still inside her and he was not in the least flaccid. “Feel that?”

Cassie sucked in a hiccuping breath. “I’ll say. Hard to miss.”

“That’s all your fault.”

“I’m glad to shoulder the blame.”

“Ahh, Cassie.” Her name rolled off his tongue and tickled her ear, warmed her heart. “I’m melting inside of you, darlin’.”

He moved in and out of her and her body responded instantly, clutching at him, straining for him. She held on and let him take her to the edge and over again. They tumbled together, flying on feelings, soaring on passion, diving into desire so intense they both cried out in a chorus of unfettered joy.

When he finally pulled out of her, she curled her body into his and snuggled as close as she could get. He murmured sweet words to her and kissed the top of her head. His arms enfolded her like wings, encasing her in an embrace that protected and cherished. An embrace she had never known before. An embrace that squeezed tears from her eyes and fanned the tiny flame of hope in her heart.

E
veryone on the ranch would know what had happened between Cassie and Drew. There was no reason to keep it secret anyway. Cassie figured the others wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. They’d probably wonder what took them so long.

Before the rooster crowed, Cassie slipped from Drew’s arms and collected Andy from his crib in Oleta’s room. She bathed and diapered him, then fed him before Oleta came into the kitchen. Sleepy-eyed, Oleta went to the stove and poured herself some of the coffee Cassie had brewed.

Thumps sounded in Cassie’s bedroom and Oleta turned startled eyes on her.

“It’s okay,” Cassie said, cutting through her alarm. “Drew is in there.”

Oleta’s dark eyes rounded. “Ohh,” she said, looking from Cassie to the bedroom and back.

Cassie felt her face heat up. She knew she was red as a strawberry, especially when more thumps came from the bedroom before the knob rattled and the door swung open to reveal Drew, shirttail out and hair mussed from sleep.

“Good morning,” he announced cheerily, his gaze sparkling when it landed on Cassie. “A good,
good
morning!” Sparing only a glance for Oleta, he went to Cassie and dropped a kiss on her cheek, then another on Andy’s forehead. “And how are we feeling this morning, hmm?”

She exchanged a teasing smile with him. “You’re feeling your oats. What do you want for breakfast?”

“I already got what I want for breakfast,” he teased.

“Stop that foolish talk,” Cassie chided, embarrassed. “You want ham and grits?”

He cleared his throat and fixed a serious expression on his face. “Sounds good to me. I’ll shave and clean up and check on the men.”

That’s more like it
, she thought, glad to be settling into their morning routine. She diapered Andy again and set him on a blanket she spread on the floor. After giving him his favorite toys, she joined Oleta at the stove and stirred up flapjacks while Oleta fried ham and made grits.

“You want Andy to stay in my room from now on?” Oleta asked. “It’s okay with me.”

Cassie considered the offer. “Well… if you don’t mind. Actually, I was planning on moving my things up to the loft someday, so Andy could have my room. He’ll be a big boy before we know it.”

“Or I could sleep in the loft,” Oleta offered.

“No. I’ve already got my desk up there. I’ve had it in the back of my mind to use that space.”

“Sí
, but maybe you should not move your bed up there yet.” Oleta forked big slices of cooked ham onto a platter. “Just because a man takes his boots off to
wash his feet, does not mean he is ready to swim in the river.”

Cassie nearly dropped a plate she was setting on the table. “Why, Oleta, where’d you get such wisdom?”

Oleta touched a forefinger to the corner of her right eye. “I see things. I store them up here.” She tapped her temple.

“That’s good, and you’re right. I won’t be making any changes for a spell. I’ve seen a few things myself, and I know better than to think a man can be roped by a tangle of sheets. Nevertheless, I’d be much obliged if you would keep Andy in with you for the time being.”

Oleta nodded. “He’s a sweet baby.” She put on the grits. “The Star H lost ten head of cattle last week.”

“What?” Cassie’s blood chilled. “Stolen?”

“No, they died.”

She slumped in momentary relief. “What from?”

“Bad water, they think.”

“That’s a shame. Sometimes I think Monroe doesn’t keep a close enough watch on his business. Bad water, bad grain. That sort of thing seems to be happening too often at the Star H. Their stock is improving, I guess, but they lose too many head every year from stupid mistakes.”

“He has hired more men to watch over them.”

“I heard about that.” Cassie glanced at Oleta. “And where are you getting
your
information? Maybe from a certain young man named Ben?”

Oleta’s lips curved into a pretty smile. “Maybe.”

“You went out and met him last night, didn’t you?”

“Sí
, but I watched Andy. I would not let anything happen to him.”

“I’m not worried about that. I’m wondering why you
have been so quiet about this young man. Did he tell you not to say anything to anyone?”

“No, but I believe that when you try something new, the fewer people who know about it, the better.”

Cassie flipped the flapjacks, Oleta’s sage advice ringing in her ears. The girl was young, but she knew a thing or two about men and women.

Drew came back into the house, whistling merrily. He hung his hat on the peg by the door and took his place at the table. Freshly shaved and smelling of lemon and lye soap, he tucked his napkin under his chin and waited for the two women to sit down with him.

Oleta murmured a prayer and passed Drew the ham.

“What’s on the chore list today, boss lady?” Drew asked, beaming at Cassie.

“I thought I’d let you and the other men sweep the land one more time for strays while I see to a few chores around the house.”

“Sure I can’t help with your housework?”

“No.” She passed him the platter of flapjacks. “If you stay, I won’t get any work done.”

“That’s probably true, but you’d have fun. I guarantee that.” He grinned and looked around the room, his brows knitted.

“You don’t mind if I change things around, add a few pretty things here and there, do you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Hell, no. Do what you want. This shack means nothing to me. I was never happy here.”

She considered that for a minute, studying him, thinking of all the dark days he must have experienced in this house. “Maybe you should build another place.”