Wildflower (26 page)

He thrashed beneath her, the sound of their hips slapping together spurring her to go faster and faster. She became ruthless in her desire for more. More of Logan. More of his cock surging into her.

There was no telling where she ended and he began. They were two bodies moving in perfect unity. A rider and her horse. A man and his wife.

She cried out his name. He barked hers.

A cornucopia of light blasted behind her closed eyelids. Lightning slashed through her brain. Brilliant and white hot. The force building was overwhelming. It consumed her. Flamed her. Ecstasy roared up to sear her essence. Her very soul.

She propelled herself downward to meet him, violent in her need. She wanted closer. She wanted inside him. To be with him always and forever.

Because she was his. And he was hers.

That reality shattered her. Spiraled her out of control. She arched her back, her muscles gripping his cock like a closed fist.

He released her hands and gripped her pelvis. “Ah, sweetheart!”

Logan pitched upward one last, hard time. She crumpled to his heaving chest, her hands clinging to his shoulders for dear life as his seed erupted from him and into her.

The epic storm of pleasure was endless, yet over much too soon. He continued to pump his hips up. The feel of his cock on her delicate skin scampered chills over her skin.

He rubbed her back. “You’re cold.”

“Don’t care,” she muttered into his chest, too exhausted to even lift her head.

Somehow he squirmed and wiggled, without moving her off him, until the quilt covered them. He tipped her face to his and kissed her then cuddled her head back to his shoulder.

“We should get up,” she muttered into his neck.

“We will.” He yawned. “Later.”

“But the chores—”

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, Logan woke with Matt’s body draped across his.

He traced a palm over her hair, careful not to disturb her, and closed his eyes. The memories of last night rolled over him, through him. Made him hard. Again.

The unashamed way she reacted to his touch. The feel of her body taking him in. The way she had ridden him. It all emphasized something he’d discovered long ago. His wife was the strongest person he’d ever known. Stronger than him in so many ways. Gutsy. She’d been ready to leave everything she knew to go out into the world alone. Maybe because she’d always felt alone here. No longer, he vowed. He’d make sure she never felt alone again.

Because she was his. All his.

His cock hardened in wanting. But above his physical response to her, a profound sense of awe gripped him. Humbled him. Having been given the choice of leaving or staying, she’d chosen to stay. With him.

Him.

The enormity of her decision swelled in his chest, pressing his heart against his ribs. He would never to take that for granted. Never take
her
for granted. He would do all that he could, and more, to guarantee his wife—not for one single moment of one single day—ever had cause to regret this decision.

One hand continued the easy stroking of her hair as he tucked his other behind his head. They would use the money from the sale of the Standing T to travel north. Maybe to the Dakotas like he originally planned. They’d find a piece of land and start anew. It would take time, years in fact and it would be hard, but they would build a good spread. Together.

She stirred beside him, burrowing a bit closer to his side. His prick pulsed. As difficult as it was, he ignored the sensation. Matt would be sore from making love twice last night. While he desired nothing more than to sink back into her sweetness, they really should eat breakfast seeing as they missed supper last night.

Taking extreme pains not to wake her, he slipped out from under her swaddling body. He grinned as her eyebrows puckered in silent protest. Otherwise she didn’t budge.

He quickly dressed then padded barefoot into the other room, boots and socks in hand. He laid kindling in the hearth. Soon a robust fire burned away the morning chill. He sat at the table and rolled on his socks. He’d just pulled on his second boot when Matt exited the bedroom.

Dressed only in her shirt, which barely covered her butt, her coltish legs stretched up to her ears. With her tousled
hair and sleepy eyes, she looked rumpled and gorgeous and completely well-loved. His shaft, already anxious, thumped in his denims.

She rubbed a hand over her face with a yawn. “Where’d you go? I woke up and you were gone.”

He stood and enfolded her in his arms. “I didn’t go far. Just out here to start a fire. It’s still plenty cold first thing in the morning.”

She returned the hug with a little hip thrust. “I know of a much better way to stay warm.”

“Aren’t you
sore
?”

“Not too bad.”

He knuckled her chin up to him. “So you are sore.” He gave her a soothing kiss then lifted away. “It’s best if we wait.”

“But aren’t you going to the herd today?”

“After a stop to see the Applegate brothers, yeah.”

Her shoulder rolled up. “You’ll be gone for a week. I don’t want to wait seven whole days to feel you inside me again.”

Her words flamed his lust, but he conquered it. He tapped his finger to her nose. “And I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“Still,” he set her away from him. “This is best. Now go get dressed so we can eat breakfast.”

She cocked a hip, her mouth pulling into that adorable, mulish line he loved so much. “You’re awful bossy.”

“But I’m right,” he countered, an easy grin on his face. “Now go.”

With a scoffing smile, she disappeared back into the bedroom. The saucy wiggle of her butt reminded him of what he’d be missing out on for the next week. Damn it all to hell.

~
~
~

“I still don’t see why I can’t go to the herd with you,” Matt repeated, walking hand in hand with her husband to the barn. “I’m fine.”

“Bingham said you can’t ride yet, so you won’t.”

“But a whole week apart.” She sighed. “That’s an awful long time.”

He hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her to a stop. “I agree.” His lips lingered over hers. “It will be torture.” Then his hungry mouth descended onto hers.

Oh, how she loved the feel of his insistent lips and tongue. The firmness of his body against hers. She returned the kiss, unfazed by the fact they were standing in the middle of the yard in the middle of the day.

He lifted up. “I’m gonna miss you something fierce, sweetheart, but you’re staying put. So no more arguing.”

He snuggled her tight to his side and they continued toward the barn. She supposed it was for the best, her staying at the ranch. She could help Chuck get a jump on spring cleaning. But seven days with her husband gone. Eternity had to be shorter.

After Sergeant was saddled, she stood in the circle of her husband’s arms, gazing up into his face. He seemed as reluctant to leave as she was to see him go. “I can ride out with Chuck when he restocks the grub wagon. That’ll be day after tomorrow.”

He lowered his head with a shake. “You’d better not. We won’t have any privacy.”

She gave his hips a nudge. “I’m sure you could find a secluded spot for us.”

His lips tickled hers as he chuckled. “Woman, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? Now all I’m gonna think about is finding that private place.”

He kissed her long and hard, his tongue sweeping through her mouth time and again. Like he couldn’t get enough of her. She felt the same. She kissed him back with zeal, his scent and taste overtaking her senses.

He pulled abruptly away and stuck his foot in the stirrup, swinging onto the roan’s back. “If we keep that up, I won’t be going at all.”

She shaded her eyes with a hand. “You won’t hear me complain.”

Grinning, he leaned down to cup her cheek. “You never do.”

With one last, short kiss, he spurred Sergeant into a brisk trot. At the ranch gate, he turned and raised a hand in farewell. She watched until he was out of sight, then walked to the cookhouse.

A week never seemed so long.

~
~
~

The morning went by quick enough, she supposed. She helped Chuck wash all the mattress bedding and clean out the root cellar. She then spent her time peeling what apples were left for pies. Thoughts of her husband diminished to once every other minute rather than every single minute. Not much of an improvement, but an improvement nonetheless. The noon meal was simple, just cold beef and bread, but she ate two helpings.

Chuck eyed her cleared plate. “Good to see you’ve got your appetite back.”

She smiled, the last bite of bread in her mouth. He stood and gathered up both plates. “Also good to see you’ve gotten things worked out with that husband of yours.”

She swallowed, a sheepish blush warming her cheeks. “Guess it sometimes takes a while for folks to settle into marriage.”

“Don’t I know.”

She stood with a small laugh. “Like you know about marriage.”

“I’ve been married.”

She gawked at the old cook. “You have?”

He harrumphed. “You don’t need to make it sound so all-fired impossible.”

“I didn’t mean that. I just never knew.”

He pumped water into the wash bucket for the dirty dishes. “No one did. Not even your pa.”

“Why keep it a secret?”

“Wasn’t no durn secret. It was just private is all.”

She picked up a towel to dry the washed plates. “So why
aren’t you
still married?”

“Because she died.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” He handed her a plate. “Stony was a good woman.”

“Stony? That was her name?”

”Yep. A Sioux half-breed. All piss and vinegar.” He handed her another plate. “You kinda remind me of her.”

She turned to make a saucy retort when the door busted open. She jumped into Chuck. The
plate
crashed to the floor and splintered apart. Three very dirty and even uglier men crammed the doorway, their guns drawn. Chuck muscled her behind him just as Roscoe entered the room. The former foreman strutted into the cookhouse like he owned it.

Chuck took a step. “What the hell is this, Roscoe?”

Roscoe paused. “Shut up, old man, and you just might live to see suppertime. I’m not here for you.” His sneering grin distorted his face. “I’m here for the little missus.”

Matt moved from behind Chuck, her chin high. She glowered at the man who’d worked beside her and her father for five years. “What do you want?”

Roscoe drew a filthy finger across his chin, leering at her from head to toe. Revulsion crawled over her skin. She locked her knees to keep them from shaking. “Oh, there are several things I want from you, but that’s for later. Right now I want to know where that lily-livered husband of yours is.” He sat at the table.