A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4) (12 page)

W
hen Travis took
over the kiss, Lissa froze. She'd wanted him to kiss her back, but suddenly, with his arms around her, and his mouth becoming demanding, she felt out of control, sucked into the vortex of his seduction. She felt like she was seventeen again, struggling to find her footing amidst a swirl of emotions and desires that were stronger than she could handle.

Travis broke the kiss, and trailed his lips along the side of her neck. "We'll only do what you want," he whispered. "You set the pace. If all we do is kiss, that's completely fine."

She heard the truth of his words, and some of her tension eased. "It's been a long time," she admitted.

"I know." He slid his arm beneath her, and scooped her up, standing easily. "Why don't we keep this low key tonight? I'm here all week. We have time."

Regret and relief both rushed through her as he carried her back toward her bedroom. "Taking me to my bed is low key?" she teased, trying to ease her nerves by lightening the moment.

"More civilized, at least." He tossed her on the bed, and a laugh escaped her as she scrambled away from him when he sat down. "I figure that sleeping here with you is a good first step. No hanky panky, but it's better than the couch." He raised his brows at her as he pulled off his boots. "I'm not gonna lie, sweetheart. I'd rather sleep wrapped around you than on that couch."

She held her breath as he stretched out on the bed. "You're really going to sleep here?"

"Yeah, but I'll keep my clothes on." He beckoned to her, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Come here, sexy. I need to fondle you."

She giggled again, and crawled across the bed toward him. "We only have one blanket left in here."

"I'll be your blanket any day." He caught her as she reached him, tucking her against his side.

She snuggled against him, using the front of his shoulder for a pillow. He grabbed her knee and pulled her leg across his stomach, inadvertently brushing her leg over his erection. Heat flushed through Lissa, and her belly tightened. He
wanted
her. He knew all about her past, and he still wanted her. Not the way Rand had wanted her, as a challenge that no one else had been able to crack.

Travis wanted her with all her flaws, because of all her flaws. He wanted her, just for her.

She smiled and snuggled closer to him. "Sing me a song," she whispered.

"I only sing when I have to." He traced designs on her back, along her spine, and over her bum. "Singing is for strangers, now. It's not personal. It wouldn't mean anything."

Sadness coursed through her at his reply. His music had once saved him, and now he wouldn't even do it when he was alone. "Didn't it used to mean something to you?"

"Yeah, but that was a long time ago." He kissed her hair.

She lifted her face to his, closing her eyes as he feathered kisses across her forehead, her eyelids, and her nose. "That feels good," she whispered.

"Good." He kissed the corner of her mouth, and then the other corner.

Her heart began to pound, and she became viscerally aware of how tightly they were wrapped around each other.
Kiss me, Travis.
She didn't dare say it, afraid to acknowledge how much she wanted it. She'd spent a lifetime condemning any desires she had, but Travis made them burn through her, fierce, powerful, and demanding.

A kiss now was risky. They were in her bed. It would be so easy for a kiss to spin out of control. But at the idea of it, warmth spread through her, like molten lava searing her veins. She wanted to lose control. She wanted to lose herself in Travis, in his touch, in his kiss, in his—

His mouth hovered over hers, so close his breath warmed her lips.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

His response was instant, as if he'd been waiting for permission, coiled and ready to strike. His mouth sank onto hers, hot, wet, and demanding. It wasn't a tentative, gentle kiss designed to keep them both safe. It was a raw, desperate kiss destined to consume them both.

It was everything she burned for.

Instinctively, she moved closer, and he did the same, the kiss increasing in intensity as their bodies melded. He slid his hands beneath her shirt, palming her back, sliding his hands over her ribs, across her belly, over her hips, as if he intended to learn every curve of her body, to brand every inch of her with his touch.

Raw need poured through her, and she tugged at his shirt. He sat up instantly and ripped it over his head, showcasing rock-solid muscles carved like a masterpiece across his chest, torso, and shoulders.

"Dear God," she whispered. "You're like a model for
Playgirl
or something."

He laughed, a deep, rusty laugh that sounded like it hadn't been used in a long time. "It's all the rage and anger inside me. Makes for a great workout motivator."

"That's sort of sad."

"Not sad. Never sad. It's my legacy. I deal with it." He grinned. "Plus, being such a highly-toned male specimen distracts my fans from the fact I don't give a shit when I sing anymore. Works out okay."

"You'd rather be admired for your body than passionate about your singing?"

He rolled her onto her back with a growl, pinning her hands over her head. "For you, I'm both, hot and passionate. Granted, I'm not passionate about
singing
, but there's some white hot passion racing through my veins right now for you."

She shivered at the sensual undertone in his voice, and suddenly, she forgot about his stage career. All that mattered was the man in her bed. She ran her hands over his chest, kind of shocked that she was actually fondling such perfection. The man was a sex god, there was no doubt about that. She was...what? Herself. And yet...here they were. She grinned, running her hands over his chest, kind of marveling at the fact that his muscles were actually as cut and toned as the movie stars that were probably digitally altered. He was real. Right here. With her. "Who knew you were so sexy? You should go naked more often."

"Naked? You want naked?" One eyebrow shot up, and the heat between them seemed to combust.

She swallowed. "I didn't mean—"

"Damn. I was liking the naked thing." He bent his head and kissed her, hard, deep, demanding, relentless. An assault that didn't let up until she was gasping for breath, and writhing under him, desperate for more.

He grabbed her shirt and pulled it up toward her shoulders. Without thinking, she raised her arms over her head, and he whipped it off easily, tossing it aside. She had no time to be nervous before he was kissing across her chest, over the swell of her breasts, stoking the desire building inside her. His fingers slipped between her breasts, and with one flick, he undid her bra, taking advantage of the front clasp.

The cold air hit her breasts as the confining fabric fell away, but instantly, he was there, showering kisses along the soft flesh. She closed her eyes, arching as his lips closed on her nipple, sending electricity arcing through her. She gasped, her fingers sliding through his hair, as if she could hold him there forever—

But he didn't stop. He ran his hand over her hip, sliding it beneath the waistband of her baggy jeans. Her heart began to race as he moved his hand lower, beneath her underwear, and then even lower. She couldn't contain the tiny yelp of pleasure as his fingers sank into her folds, his touch a seductive, sensual pleasure that wound all the way around her soul.

"I want to kiss you there," he whispered, his breath warm against the side of her neck.

She nodded. "Okay."

He laughed softly. "'Okay?' It's like I asked you for a refill on my coffee." He bit her earlobe. "How about, 'God, Travis, I want you to rip my clothes off and ravage me in every way you've been imagining for the last twenty-four hours, and all the ways you haven't even thought of yet.' Give a guy a little encouragement."

She laughed then, the last of her tension easing from her body. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "Yeah, that," she said.

"'Yeah, that?' Really? You can't do better?"

"You're the poet. You make it sound amazing. I'm just a failed engineer turned chef." Nervousness rippled through her, but she reached down to the waistband of his jeans, her fingers fumbling with the button on his fly. "Please chase away all the darkness that haunts us both, Travis. Give us something new, something beautiful, something amazing to hold onto for the rest of our lives."

His eyes darkened. "Now that's what I'm talking about." He rolled to his side, unfastened his jeans, and ditched them, leaving his boxer briefs on, much to her chagrin and relief. Then he was back on top of her, kissing his way down her belly while he unzipped her jeans. She propped herself up on her elbows, needing to watch him, to ground herself in him as he began to tug her jeans down.

As if sensing her perusal, he looked up. His face softened at whatever expression he saw on her face, and he crawled back up her body, to kiss her, a gentle, claiming, possessive kiss that went straight past all her walls and seemed to cradle her heart.

He pulled back, searching her face. "Are you okay? We can stop."

She shook her head. "I need this. I need you."

He smiled, a tender, heart-wrenching smile that made her want to cry. "I never thought I would need a woman, or intimacy, but I do, too." He kissed her again, tender, nurturing, claiming...which then turned hot, sensual, and demanding.

She was gasping for air by the time he broke the kiss and slid her pants down. Her heart seemed to thunder through her as he tossed her jeans aside, leaving her only with her frayed cotton underwear that had once been fuchsia, but now were a faded, dull rose.

"Love these." He pressed a kiss to the fabric, just over her sensitive bud.

She whimpered at the rush of sensation from his kiss, sinking back into the pillows. "How can you love them? They're old and completely unsexy."

"I love them, because they're you." He trailed kisses along the inside of her thigh, nudging aside her underwear as his kisses got closer and closer to the part of her body that she hadn't shared with anyone in a very,
very
long time. "You didn't get dressed tonight hoping to seduce anyone, and that's sexy as all hell."

She heard the truth in his voice, and her heart softened at the words he didn't say. "The women all want sex from you, don't they?" In some ways, he was just like her teenage self: seen only for the body, and not for the person inside.

He looked up, and she saw stark vulnerability in his eyes, a pain that went so much deeper than anything he'd shared with her. She realized there was more he was hiding, something else, something that had torn him apart all the way to his soul. "Travis, what is it? What else happened to you?"

He shook his head. "This moment is about us. No one else gets to taint it." He gave her a wicked glare that made her belly tighten, then he grabbed her underwear and pulled it off in a single, ridiculously smooth move.

Before she had a chance to feel exposed and embarrassed, he bent his head and kissed her, his tongue sweeping across her folds, in the most tantalizing seduction she'd ever imagined, let alone experienced. She could do nothing but hang on, gasping as he toyed with her, dragging her to the edge, and holding her there, ruthlessly keeping her from going over the precipice, until she was panting, and glistening with sweat.

He shifted, and she opened her eyes just as he tossed his boxer briefs on the floor with the rest of their clothes. She had no time to get scared, before he moved over her, his knees urging her legs apart. She gasped as she felt the tip of his erection pressing against her entrance. He kissed her, a desperate, claiming kiss that seemed to wrench her heart from its safe little hideout and drag it out into the light.

He moved restlessly, then suddenly froze, his entire body going rigid. "Fuck. I don't have any condoms." He pulled back, his face shocked. "I can't believe I almost made love to you without birth control."

The look of horror on his face took away all the last vestiges of her fear. This wasn't a man who'd thoughtlessly take risks of getting her pregnant. He'd even managed to stop himself right on the brink, rather than go through with it.

He swore again. "Is there any place open this late I can get some?"

"What, you don't think I have some lying around?" She couldn't help but tease him, feeling exhilarated by the fact he had assumed she didn't have any. He simply didn't see her as a woman who slept around, unlike all the people in the town she'd tried to prove herself to.

He rolled his eyes and kissed the tip of her nose. "I don't even need to ask. I do, however, need to find a store."

He started to roll off her, but she stopped him. "I used to be debilitated by cramps, so I'm on birth control." She bit her lip, suddenly afraid that he'd think she was lying about why she was on birth control, but he just grinned, and settled himself back on top of her.

"Well, damn, woman, I never thought I'd be happy about menstrual cramps, but you just made my day." He kissed her again, not hesitating, instead, stoking the fires back up with his kisses. "I've been tested for everything," he said between kisses. "I'm completely clean. I promise you that. I'd never risk you."

Her heart tightened at his words, at his genuine concern. How was there a man this good in the world? How was it possible? "I was tested at the time Bridgette was born, but not since—"

He laughed. "Sweetheart, I'm not worried about you." He kissed her again, sweeping her away from logic and discussion, into a miasma of emotion, desire, and need.

She shifted beneath him, a restless need coiling inside her. "Make love to me, Travis," she whispered.

He broke the kiss, searching her face. "Never forget how special you are," he said, and then he sank inside her.

She gasped, arching back as she felt him fill her. It was incredible, intimate, and perfect. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't ashamed. She was just lost in the beauty of it, in how amazing it felt, how safe she was with him.

He whispered her name as he withdrew and then drove again, reassuring her with tender murmurs, whispers of sweetness that made her want to cry. Then he caught her mouth in a searing kiss that stripped her of all thought, dragging her mercilessly into a vortex of need and desire. She clung to him, kissing him back just as fiercely, holding onto him desperately as the tension coiled between them. White hot flashes exploded through her, and her entire body convulsed as the orgasm ripped through her. She gripped his shoulders, gasping. She bucked against him, as he drove deep, shouting her name again and again and again, until they both finally collapsed, sweaty, exhausted, and together.