A Cowboy's Woman (19 page)

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Authors: Cathy Gillen Thacker

BOOK: A Cowboy's Woman
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Suddenly looking as impatient as he was to get her out of the beautiful gown, Greta lifted her arms above her head. The action inadvertently pushed her breasts together and Shane groaned at the sight of the plump mounds spilling out of the cups. Inhaling deeply of the rich floral scent of her perfume, he gathered her long, voluminous skirt, crushing it in his hands. “Hold still now,” he warned, his desire to make love to her deepening with every second that passed.
“As if I could safely do anything else,” Greta quipped, her low sexy voice muffled by the layers of satin. She paused as Shane continued to struggle with the voluminous bell-shaped skirt of the dress. “How's it coming?”
Not soon enough.
“Almost there.” Past her breasts, over her head, arms. He whisked the length of it over her head. He laid it over a chair, aware that even winning the national rodeo hadn't left him with the same sense of accomplishment as this had. He waggled his eyebrows at her in giddy anticipation. “Free at last.”
Greta laughed softly, swished her swirling organza petticoat, before turning. back around with a seductive sway of her slender hips. “Not yet, cowboy, but we're working on it.”
“Ah, but this is easy.” Shane stepped behind her, untied the petticoat and slipped that, too, over her head. Glad to be rid of it, he tossed it aside, turned back to her and lost his breath. He'd seen her clad thus before. Then, knowing the reception was ahead of them, he hadn't dared take more than a quick look, for fear they'd
never get there. Now that he had an entire wedding night of lovemaking ahead of him, he indulged till his heart was content. Her white satin-and-lace bustier cupped her waist, ribs and breasts like a second skin, clearly delineating the soft, milky white globes and dusky centers. The top of her lacy garter belt covered her delectably from navel to hipbone. Beneath that were several inches of silky bare skin and the flare of her hips. Bikini panties, transparent, lacy and deliciously brief, shadowed a nest of golden curls and cupped the most feminine part of her. Four garters stretched leisurely across her hip bones, down her bare, lusciously smooth thighs. Midway between her hips and knees, the stockings started, cloaking her slim, sexy legs before disappearing into delicate white satin high heels.
“You like?” she queried sexily as the blood rushed to his groin.
Shane nodded, a pulse throbbing visibly in his throat. If this wasn't heaven, he didn't know what was. He bent and touched his lips to the diamond necklace around her neck. “You bet I like,” he said hoarsely, his palms ghosting playfully down her spine, up again, across her shoulders, down her arms.
“I'm glad,” Greta whispered as he grinned down at her with a thoroughly male satisfaction. “Because now it's my turn to undress you.”
The mesmerizing look of a temptress in her soft-blue eyes, Greta stepped behind him and brought his tuxedo jacket slowly down his arms. Dropped it next to her petticoat. Finished, she stood on tiptoe, pressed herself against him and touched her lips to his, until another surge of heat fired into his groin. She kissed him again, a kiss that was shattering in its possessive sensuality.
Shane groaned, his control fading as surely—and irrevocably—as hers remained. “Greta—”
“Too slow?” Greta teased.
Shane wanted a lifetime with her, but for now—for tonight—he would take each moment as it came. “Way too slow,” he confirmed. Intending to remedy that, he reached for his bow tie, only to have her hand cover his. No way was she letting him call the shots when it was her turn to have fun. Recalling his decision to let her take over, at least for a while, Shane merged their lips in a long steamy kiss as she fumbled with his tie. It took some time, but finally Greta dropped the tie next to his jacket. His cummerbund and suspenders soon followed. And then it was her turn to initiate a kiss. Sifting her hands through his hair, she kissed him again. Slowly, lingeringly. Lovingly. She unbuttoned his shirt, helped him out of it.
He grinned at her, intrigued by her. boldness and growing more aroused by the moment. “You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Too much, maybe.
“You bet! I never had the chance to be a bad girl growing up.” And she was relishing every instant of it now, Shane noted, pleased, as Greta swiftly helped undo his belt, unzip his fly. “Oops,” she said when she lowered his trousers past his knees. She knelt next to his dressy black boots, her breasts spilling out of her lacy, translucent bustier. “Guess I better do these first.”
Shane reveled in the view. “Depends on how tangled up you like me and my clothes,” Shane said hoarsely, rocking forward slightly as he attempted to ease the pressure in his groin. He was beginning to wonder how he had ever managed without her. She brought so much joy to him, so much fire. With Greta in his life, everything
and anything seemed possible. Even marriage...the kind that lasted for life.
Still grinning impishly, Greta eased off one boot, then, the other. “Truth to tell,” Greta said, her tongue darting out to moisten her lower lip in a way that aroused Shane all the more. She winked at him as she worked the trousers the rest of the way down his legs. “I like you best in nothing at all.”
Shane chuckled. His hands itched to caress her. “Keep going and you'll have your wish.”
Finished, Greta tossed his pants aside. “Then again,” she said, and, still kneeling in front of him, traced her palms over the clinging bikini briefs that hid nothing of his anatomy, “I like you like this, too.”
“Sure about that?” Shane taunted playfully. Deciding she'd been in the driver's seat long enough, he caught her by the hand, tugged her up and brought her flush against him.
Greta stared up into his ruggedly handsome face, aware her heart was beating double time. Lower, where their two bodies touched, there was an altogether too-familiar warmth pooling in her middle. “What'd you have in mind?”
“This,” Shane said. He bent her backward from the waist, leaning the weight of her against one braced leg. His mouth came down on hers, touched briefly. He watched the shock and the delight in her eyes, then moved to the nape of her neck, where he traced lazy sensual patterns of his own design. “And this—” Knowing he had another surprise left, Shane righted her slowly, released her. An enigmatic smile tugging at his lips, he went to the closet, rummaged around for a moment, then returned promptly, the sought-after object in hand.
“THE HONEYMOON KIT!” Greta exclaimed, a riot of color creeping into her pretty cheeks. Every time she thought she had him pegged, he turned around and surprised her.
A roguish smile tugging at his sensually chiseled lips, Shane shrugged. “J.P. and his missus wanted us to use it.” Apparently ready and willing to comply, Shane emptied the contents out on the bed.
Shocked, and trying not to be, Greta looked at the array of lotions, lubricants, textured condoms, all of which promised to be—if used imaginatively—very naughty. “I've never done anything like this,” she said.
The hint of evening beard on his face making him look all the more delectable, dangerous and alluring, Shane drew her down to lie beside him on the bed. Her heart raced as he captured her hands with his, and then held her arms pinned loosely on either side of her. “To tell you the truth...neither have I,” he whispered wickedly.
“But your rep—” Greta protested as yet another thrill swept through her.
“More fiction than fact.” Shane confirmed as he slipped over her, settled between her thighs. “But that can all change,” he promised, a playful light in his gray eyes, “if you're game.”
Why not? Greta thought. Hadn't she stood on the sidelines watching long enough? Wasn't this her wildest, hottest, most unabashedly erotic fantasy come true? “Okay,” Greta said softly. “I'll play. But only if I get to go first.”
 
THAT, SHANE HADN'T RECKONED ON. But then, there was a lot about Greta he hadn't reckoned on. “Since it's our wedding night, I'll be a true gentleman and let your wish
be my command.” He released her and rolled onto his back, and with a look of smug male satisfaction, propped his hands behind his head. Clearly, he was ready to make their lovemaking last the whole night through. “Play away, Greta, honey.”
“I was hoping you'd say that.” Beneath her bustier, Greta's nipples had tightened into hard buds of arousal. She studied the flavors, her whole body tingling with need as she recalled just how insatiable and determined a lover Shane could be. But she could be bold and exciting, too, and she'd prove it to him. “Which flavor lotion do you want me to use?” Though she meant her voice to sound commanding, it came out breathless.
Shane glanced at the array of choices. “Pineapple,” he decided finally, his voice so low and sexy and ready for action it held her mesmerized.
Greta'd read somewhere that for men the more visual the lovemaking experience, the better. She'd never tried out the theory, of course, but she'd always wanted to. She also had an idea what Shane was expecting from her. She was determined to surprise him with something different. Something they hadn't done the previous night. Kneeling astride his thighs, she uncapped the pineapple-flavored lotion, poured a dollop in the palm of one hand. Ignoring the quivering in her middle, she dipped the ends of her fingers into the lemon-yellow cream and then spread it ever so slowly across the uppermost curves of her breasts, down the exposed tops of her thighs, across her belly, everywhere she found bare skin. Shane watched, an ardent light coming into his eyes, the ridge of his arousal growing ever harder, larger.
“Keep going,” Shane instructed hoarsely. He nodded, letting Greta know what he meant.
Tingling everywhere his heated glance had touched, Greta gulped, “You want me to—”
“Yes. Take it off,” he whispered huskily. “Panties. Bra. But leave the garter and stockings on.”
Wanting to please him, wanting to arouse him as much as he aroused her, Greta reached behind her, and with hands that trembled, undid the back of her bustier. As the edges came undone, she slowly peeled it away. It was a little trickier, but her panties went next.
Determined to prove to him once and for all that she was every bit as wild at heart as he was, Greta swallowed the rest of her inhibitions. She painted the rest of her breasts—nipples, undersides, crests, worked her way down her ribs. Her eyes still holding his, she let her hands drop lower still. Shane groaned. The next thing she knew she was on her back. Shane was astride her, ready to teach her every subtlety, every nuance of desire.
“I wasn't finished yet,” Greta protested breathlessly. She had only to look in his eyes to see how much she'd aroused him. The reckless side of her—the hellion only he'd brought out—wanted to take it further still.
Shane grinned as Greta anchored her fingers in the elastic edges of his briefs. “We've got all night to play with our toys. But this—” Shane winked as he poured lotion in the palm of his hand and stretched out next to her. His glance skimmed her near-naked form hotly as he shifted her onto her side “—is a man's job.”
Desire flowed through her, in hot mesmerizing waves, even before his lips touched hers. Feelings swelled in her heart, followed swiftly by a need that encompassed her very soul. Greta trembled and clung to him. His arousal nudged her through his briefs. His tongue teased her lips apart and then plunged into her mouth, again and again and again, tantalizing and compelling. Lower
still, one of his lotion-slick hands caressed her golden nest of curls. The other flattened against the small of her spine. Tenderly, he stroked the dewy softness, moving up, in, then touched and caressed her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over the tender crests. “You are so beautiful, Greta,” he murmured, his eyes dark with wanting her, as he ended their slow, sexy kiss. “Now let's find out how you taste.”
She caught her breath as his eyes held hers with the promise of the limitless lovemaking to come. Greta tried to control her need, to draw their lovemaking out as long as possible, but it was an impossible task when his rapacious gaze drifted down her body, his hands skimming over her sides, over her ribs. He shifted her onto her back, gently, cupping the weight of both her breasts in his hands. Aware she'd never felt sexier or more voluptuous in her life, Greta watched as his head lowered. His lips moved over her skin, tantalizing and exploring, over and over, until she shut her eyes and surrendered helplessly against him.
“Pineapple,” Shane murmured in a way that had them both chuckling softly. “Definitely pineapple.”
Discovery made, he shifted upward. Soon they were kissing again, hotly, until she no longer knew where her mouth ended and his began. Desperate for more, even if he was willing to wait past the spontaneous combustion stage, Greta shifted so she was on top once again. Slowly she lowered herself. She took the hot, hard length of him and drew him inside, then drew herself up, so she was once again on her knees. Over and over, she loved him that way, until he shuddered uncontrollably, the gliding sensation more than he could bear.
“Greta,” Shane murmured, as she slipped free.
She replaced her body with the softness of her lips,
the light butterfly tease of her tongue. He'd driven her mad with desire. Now she took him to the brink. Hands on her waist, he caught her, brought her up and over him, then rolled so she was once again on her side.

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