Silk and Spurs (10 page)

She nodded and he nearly groaned as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. He clasped her wrists in one of his hands and forced her to stop.

He kissed her hard, loving her taste and the way she felt in his arms, soap slick and wet. He wanted to pound into her now, to fuck her until she was seeing stars.

Zane switched places with Jessie and she was laughing as he spun her around so that she was sitting on the seat and he was between her thighs, and she almost felt dizzy with the movement. Jets sprayed her body as he pressed her thighs apart—then he dove underwater and buried his face against her pussy.

She cried out in surprise and felt so much pleasure that she had a hard time focusing as she looked down and saw his head between her thighs. He rose up and looked at her as he broke the surface and then he took a deep breath and went underwater again.

It felt incredible, unbelievably intense and different than anything she’d felt before as her climax charged toward her like an oncoming wave. His mouth taking her and the jets spraying against her body. Strands of his hair felt silken beneath the water as she ran her fingers through his hair.

He licked and sucked in between stopping to come up and take breaths of air. She was so close to coming that she was squirming. When he stopped and took another breath, then started licking her again, she knew she couldn’t hold back.

She clenched her fingers in his hair, needing something to hold onto as her orgasm exploded inside of her. It tore through her like a tsunami, cresting over her and then slamming down on her again. And again.

Her entire body vibrated and her core was still spasming as he clasped her waist and turned her so that her back was to him, and she was on her knees, her hands braced on the seat and her ass in the air.

He grasped her hips and thrills rolled through her belly as he rubbed his erection over her clit. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

The erotic word sent more excitement through her. “Yes. Please.”

Then he drove himself inside of her and started taking her hard and fast, his hands gripping her hips as he moved her up and down his length. She cried out, feeling him rocking deep, deep inside of her, so far that she felt it to her bellybutton. He took her hard, slamming into her with thrust after thrust.

Vaguely she was aware of water sloshing over the side of the tub and she felt the added sensation of the jetted water against her breasts. He pulled her hair, forcing her head back and she felt as if he was a stallion taking his mare. She loved the feel of him inside of her as she reveled in all of the sensations. The powerful possessive way he took her, made her second orgasm come raging toward her.

With a shout she came again. This time her voice was louder and she was unable to hold back the strength of her cry.

He continued to take her and every moan she made grew louder and louder from the way her orgasm carried on and on. It all made her so sensitive that she almost couldn’t take it anymore.

And then he made a growling sound as he climaxed. His cock throbbed inside her core and she would have collapsed, exhausted, when he finally brought her to a stop. But he took her by her waist again and moved so that he was on the seat and she was in his lap.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “I take it you’re feeling better now.”

She laughed. “Much better.” And then she kissed him again.

Chapter 12

“What are you so happy about?” Dillon pushed up the brim of his western hat.

Zane shut the tailgate of the work truck after having loaded it with a few fence posts, stays, barbwire, and a posthole digger.

He took off his work gloves and stuffed them in his back pocket. “I enjoy repairing downed fence lines,” he said dryly. “Makes my day.”

Dillon snorted. “Right.” He glanced toward the house. “I hear you have a houseguest. A pretty one at that.”

Zane rested his arm on the side of his truck. “A photographer is staying a few days.”

“The one who is supposed to be taking pictures of the ranch and countryside for the photo album for Aunt Grace?” Dillon cocked his head, an amused expression on his features. “I wonder if there’s a real good reason why that photographer hasn’t finished yet.”

“There is.” Zane moved around the truck and reached for the door handle. “I’ve got to take care of this fence line before it rains and any of my cattle get out.”

“Uh-huh.” Dillon’s features grew more serious. “Also heard you broke it off with Phoebe. Sorry things went the way they did.”

Zane studied his brother, then said, “I’m not.”

The front door to the house squeaked as it opened and Zane and Dillon both looked toward it. Jessie stepped through and Zane felt a stirring in his gut as he watched her while she closed the door behind her.

The sky was overcast but there was still a gleam to her dark red hair and she walked toward him and Dillon. Her smile was warm and inviting and he wanted to kiss her. Instead he introduced her to his brother.

“Jessie, this is my brother, Dillon.” He turned to his brother. “This is the photographer, Jessie Porter.”

Dillon took off his hat and clasped hands with Jessie and she gave him a pleasant smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure, ma’am.” He returned her smile before they released their grips on each other and he put his hat back on.

“I get it.” She smiled. “You’re all named after famous western stuff.” She counted them off on her fingers. “Zane for the author Zane Grey; Wyatt for the gunslinger Wyatt Earp; Dillon for Marshal Dillon on the old TV show,
Gunsmoke
; and Wayne for the actor John Wayne.”
 

“She’s sharp,” Dillon said with a grin.

“That she is.” Zane winked at Jessie.

“I haven’t figured out Danica, though,” Jessie said. “Where did your parents get that name?”

Dillon laughed. “Mom wasn’t about to let Dad name her Kitty after the saloon-keeper on
Gunsmoke
.”
 

“Danica’s a family name.” Zane smiled.

“You’re a rancher, right?” Jessie looked at Dillon.

He gave a nod. “I own a spread not far from here.”

“Wayne was Special Forces,” Zane said. “Now he’s retired and ranches, too.”

Jessie tilted her head. “And Wyatt also followed in the family tradition?”

“Yep,” Zane said.

“How are you enjoying your time here?” Dillon asked.

She smiled. “I love, love, love it here. This country is so gorgeous and I just can’t get enough of it. That’s why it’s great being a photographer. I can capture it and preserve it.”

Zane glanced at her camera bag. “Where are you off to?”

“I’m about finished taking pictures of the area.” She touched the camera she had on a strap around her neck. “Thought I’d head out west of the Bar C to that ghost town over there.”

“Keep an eye out for hunters.” Zane frowned. “After what happened yesterday—I don’t want you getting shot.”

“Wyatt told me about it.” Dillon hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “Do you believe those hunters you talked to?”

Zane gave a slow nod. “Yeah, I do. Don’t know who it was.”

“They’re bound to be out there.” Dillon shook his head. “Most hunters are careful but we’ve had a few idiots in these parts.”

“Sure as hell have,” Zane said.

“A couple of years ago Zane lost a steer to hunters who mistook it for a deer,” Dillon said to Jessie. “Even at a distance, I don’t know how the hell a steer could be mistaken for a deer.” He shook his head.

“First time I’ve heard of any people nearly getting killed in this area by rifle shots,” Dillon said.

“I’ll be careful.” Jessie hitched her backpack up on her shoulder and smiled. “Promise.”

She started to walk toward her car but Zane caught her by her arm. She looked surprised as he drew her to him and took her by the shoulders.

He kissed her hard, putting everything he had into that kiss. He wanted her to know how much he cared for her, how much she meant to him now.

She made a soft sound of surrender and she kissed him back with as much passion as he was kissing her with.

When he broke the kiss, he drew away and looked into her eyes that were filled with mutual need, and he hoped as much caring as he felt toward her. Her cheeks were flushed and he realized he’d kissed her so hard her lips were slightly swollen.

He gave her a quick, hard kiss and let her go. She smiled. “That’s a really nice way to get my morning going.”

Dillon cleared his throat. Zane and Jessie both looked at him. He felt no embarrassment at having kissed his woman in front of him, after only knowing her for days and just having left his fiancée. He only felt a deep and powerful sense that Jessie belonged to him.

She smiled, and it made his chest feel warm. “I’ll be back by lunch,” he said.

“Same here.” She raised her camera. “It’s a bit of a drive but it’s early enough that I can get there and back by noon. Shouldn’t take me too long to get what I want.” She pointed in the direction of a couple of ghost towns south of Patagonia. “Washington Camp and Duquesne will make for some great shots.”

“Washington Camp was once the largest community in that area,” Zane said. “Old abandoned mines and buildings ready to collapse. Be careful.”

“I will.” She moved her gaze to Dillon. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” he said before casting Zane a glance.

She turned and headed toward her red Mustang and he frowned as he thought about the bullet holes in the passenger side. She backed the car up and turned it to head out the main gate and on toward her destination.

“You’re one hell of a fast worker.” Dillon brought his attention back around.

“And she’s one hell of a woman,” Zane said before climbing into his truck.

•  •  •

Jessie found herself singing again and practically bouncing in her seat along with the tune. This time she sang Rascal Flatts’
Life is a Highway.
 

She looked up at the sky. The day might just be perfect to set the mood she wanted for the ghost town that she was going to photograph. She could come back on a sunnier day, but a little rain wasn’t going to put a damper on her photography or her mood. It was just fine with her.

She took her time along the way, finding cool things to shoot. Before she knew it, almost an hour had passed and she’d told Zane she’d be back by lunch, and she still needed to photograph the ghost towns. Because of the distance, with drive time she’d end up being late after taking some photos. Really late if she didn’t get going. She’d call him later on her cell phone to let him know.

When she reached the general area she was looking for, she stopped at a gas station to get better directions. The GPS in her car wasn’t any good on some of the dirt roads in the area and was getting her nowhere.

After the attendant gave her directions she nearly bumped into a man wearing a hat who stood close behind her.

“Excuse me,” she said.

The man continued to look away from her and she couldn’t see his face. Shaking her head, she went back to her car. A black sports car was the only other vehicle in front of the gas station. She slid into her Mustang and drove toward the ghost towns.

Eventually she hit the road that would take her to the first abandoned building. Her car bumped and jostled along the road and she could see the place in the distance.

By the time she was finished photographing this country, her car was going to need an alignment. Her thoughts turned to Zane and she frowned a little. She was supposed to leave when she was finished, but she didn’t want to… She wanted to be with Zane. She was sure he cared about her, but was it enough to maintain a relationship with her back in Tucson?

If it was up to her, then
yes.
 

So ultimately, it was up to him. She would do what it took to make it work if he wanted it, too. Hell, if he didn’t, then she might just have to find a way to convince him. She wasn’t the kind of girl who sat around waiting for the man to make his move.

She had no doubt, though, that Zane wasn’t the kind of man who ever waited for a woman to make a move.

Not too far from her destination, she spotted some plants she wanted to photograph near an old fence line, so she stopped her car and took some shots. There was such beauty in this area that she didn’t think she’d ever be able to photograph it all. Unfortunately she couldn’t just stay here forever.

Although she could imagine it. She could picture herself living in this country. It was beautiful and called to her in a way that she’d never believed possible.

After photographing the flowers and fence line, she got back into her car and drove on.

The ghost towns were great to photograph. The sky held back the rain and she was able to get photos of an old commercial building, remnants of an abandoned mine, and other buildings in Washington Camp. In Duquesne, she got some great photos of old homes and buildings.

When she reached another gray, weathered building farther out, she parked then grabbed her camera once again, looped it around her neck, and climbed out of her car. Small rocks crunched beneath her shoes as she headed toward an old commercial building.

The place stood in an isolated area with huge old sycamores and cottonwoods, along with oak, willow and mesquite trees, around the area. She studied the building. It would be great to go in and explore, but it was so dilapidated that it was possible the dang thing would fall in on her. She spent some time photographing the area surrounding it.

A drop of rain landed on her nose and she looked up at the darkening sky and she shivered. The temperature was dropping.

She’d hoped to finish before it started to rain, but didn’t look like she was going to make it. Although she’d told Zane she’d be back by lunch, it looked like she was going to be a couple of hours late.

Her cell phone was in her pocket, so she dug it out and flipped it open to call Zane to let him know she was going to stay out a while longer. She rolled her eyes to the sky then looked back at her phone. Great. She’d forgotten to charge it last night and it was dead.