Almost a Cowboy (19 page)

After two days on the Missouri roads, Caroline was about to put out a televised plea asking for people who knew the whereabouts of Camden or Emma Davies to come forward.

She was sick of riding, sick of hotels and eating out. And Utah seemed to be in the same funk. The best thing about Missouri was the lazy way Utah said it:
Missoura.

They’d spent a full day in Camden, Missouri, and hadn’t found the man. Caroline had asked at the diner and the post office, but no one knew a man named Camden Davies.

Which was ridiculous because there were two men by that name living in the state. Utah drove them a few hours north to check out another lead, but it was a dead end. So they started to search for Emma instead.

On Facebook and a few other social media sources, Caroline found several Emma Davies, but their profile pictures didn’t bear resemblance to the other Davies. Was it possible this girl actually looked like her mother?

“Let’s get out and walk, Utah. Please?”

He swung his gaze toward her, but it took a full minute before his eyes cleared enough to acknowledge what she said. “Antsy?”

“That’s an understatement. Let’s just walk. Along this never-ending fence. Anything.”

He nodded and pulled off to the side of the back road he’d decided to take. He cut the engine, and the world practically sang with birds and insects. In the nearby field, a cow lowed.

Caroline and Utah got out of the truck and stretched. She raised her arms overhead and then bent over. When she started to straighten, his gaze locked on her cleavage. She wiggled a little to give him the full effect of her V-necked top.

“You’re playin’ with fire, baby.”

Damn, she loved the way he drawled
fire.
Lust sparked low in her belly. “Yeah?”

He closed in on her, striding slowly through the high grasses at the side of the road to reach her. She held still and quivered. The passion on his face was gasoline guaranteed to ignite.

As he reached for her, she jumped into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, she ducked under his hat brim with him. His masculine essence filled her nose, and she gulped in deep breaths.

In the shade of his hat, his eyes were almost black. Glittering with desire.

“Kiss me,” she whispered and crushed her lips to his, taking what she wanted before he granted her wish.

His lips were softer than they looked, and the scrape of his beard ratcheted up her need. For two days they hadn’t done more than kiss, too exhausted for lovemaking after their statewide search.

Lovemaking. That’s what it is.
She ran her tongue over his lower lip and raised a growl from him.

He hitched her higher on his waist so the ridge of his cock dug into her pussy. She wished she’d had a clean sundress to wear this morning instead of cotton shorts. But she had a feeling Utah would take off any garments she wore without trouble.

Angling her head to the side, she opened her mouth to accept his questing tongue. At the velvety touch, juices wet her panties.

“Fuck, you’re delicious,” he groaned. He took a few steps toward the fence. Across the pasture stood a rundown outbuilding, abandoned by the looks of it.

“You can’t make it to that shed,” she said between deep, pulse-throbbing kisses. “I see more than one set of horns in this field.”

Bulls were nasty when they found people traipsing through their pastures.

Utah’s smile spread across hers. Without needing to look, she found the dimple on his chin with her thumb. “Bulls don’t scare me.” He planted a loud smack on her lips. Then he took a few steps to the fence. “Electric is tricky. You know how to get through without getting a shock?”

She nodded. The knowledge was long disused, but she’d done it with Utah more than once. He hitched her upward until she could grab the top of the fence post. The wide limestone post was easier to scale than the wooden ones at home. She clung to the rock, using muscles she hadn’t used in a decade to keep from touching the live wire.

“Ease your right leg over so you’re sitting.”

She listened to his deep voice and was yanked back in time. Here they were—adults—and they were still trying to find places to steal moments alone. She swung her leg up so she perched on one butt cheek on the top of the post.

“Jump on in, baby,” Utah rumbled.

She leaped. Boot heels cut into the turf. She turned just in time to see Utah shimmy up the post like some exotic big cat. He planted his palms on the top of the post and vaulted his legs over the wire easily. He landed beside her, grinning like crazy.

Her belly warmed as he took her hand and started across the pasture. Her heart pulsed faster, and she threw looks between bulls one and two. In the back part of the field stood a few more. It crossed her mind the rancher wouldn’t be able to enclose temperamental bulls in the same pasture. They must be docile.

As if there’s such a thing as s docile bull.

The grasses tickled her knees. She stepped high, also trying to watch for cow pies. She and Utah closed in on the outbuilding quickly. Utah sped up.

“You eager to get me to the shed?” she asked.

“Damn straight. Eager to get you undressed.” He took a long stride, and their linked hands stretched between them. She hurried to reach his side again.

The inside of the shed was dark and close, but through the cracks in the boards, enough light poured in to see a pile of old hay. A bird’s nest rode a rafter above, and the wooden floor below was thick with bird droppings.

Utah’s harsh breathing filled her ears. She knew he wasn’t winded from their hasty walk—he was turned on.

Her nipples bunched up tight under her top. Suddenly her bra felt impossibly tight.

He led her to the hay and began to unbutton his shirt. The sight of his strong fingers moving over the buttons did more for her than seeing him bare-chested.

Whoa. Maybe not.
The sculpted dips and swells of his chest and abs were straight out of a men’s fitness ad. An invisible string between her nipples and pussy pulled tight.

With a crooked grin, he spread the western shirt over the hay. Caroline pulled off her shirt and reached for the fly of her shorts. But Utah was quicker. He popped the button with one flick of his fingers. The zipper easing down vibrated through her core.

Both of them breathed heavily now—a symphony in the silence. She wiggled out of her shorts, and they pooled at her boots.

Utah looked down. “Leave the boots on.” His dark tone spiked her lust. His gaze traveled up her body again, landing on her breasts. “The bra too. That’s a pretty one. Haven’t seen it yet.”

“It’s my last clean one.”

“Guess we’ll have to hit a Laundromat.”

She stepped out of her shorts and reached for his waistband. He let her have her way, watching her face closely as she opened his fly and dipped her fingers into his boxers.

“Mmm,” she moaned when she found the silky head of his cock slicked with arousal. She folded in half and licked it. His fingers convulsed in her hair, dragging her to him. Part of her wanted him to use her hard—to force her to suck him.

As she peeled his clothing down, she drew his cock deeper. When Utah was trapped by the denim around his hips, she slurped the last fraction of his length into her mouth.

“God, woman.” His cock hardened more in her mouth, and the head bumped the back of her throat. He rocked his hips, and she breathed through her nose to accept him all the way in.

Then she pulled back, gasping.

“Lay on that shirt, baby.”

“No, you lay on that shirt. I wanna ride you.”

He knotted her hair around his fist and dragged her head up. Tipping it back, he kissed her fiercely, tongue plunging, flipping, wild and uncontrolled. He reached into her bra cup and found the pointed bud of her nipple. Shivers extended from his fingertips through her breast and downward to make her pussy clench.

Their kiss grew bolder, and he scraped his teeth over her tongue and then bit into her lip. She cried out, more turned on than she’d ever been. This encounter felt so much like their first—that coupling had been the result of months’ worth of heavy petting and need. This was two days. What would happen if he went away from her?

She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on. He walked her in a circle and broke the kiss before lounging back in the hay.

She took a minute to pull off his boots, socks, jeans, and boxers. When he was nude in the hay, she couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Like what you see?”

“Hell, yes,” she answered.

She hooked her thumbs in her panties and eased them down. Then she took a minute to locate the necessary condom.

Is it necessary? I love him. So what if we have babies together? We don’t need that ring on my finger to do it.

Still, she fitted the rubber in place. His cock strained up out of a nest of dark pubic hair, the head waving slightly in the air. She met Utah’s gaze. “I want it inside me.”

“Then take it. I give you free rein.”

Free, huh? She had a feeling she might frighten him with how much she wanted. He thought of her as innocent little Caroline. But that girl was long gone.

She mounted him. He planted his hands on her hips and gazed up at her. She pressed the head of his cock at her opening. The moisture slicked him. When she drove her body down on his shaft, they gasped.

A frenzied dance ensued. She gyrated on him, grinding her clit against his body. He dug his fingers into her ass and thrust her down harder and harder. She leaned over him, lips an inch away from his. “Smack my ass,” she whispered.

Shock passed over his face, and his rhythm faltered. “What?”

She gripped his wrist and pulled his hand away from her ass. The open flat of his palm on his skin—the sound of flesh striking flesh—would send her over the ledge.

Something dark moved behind his eyes. Dust motes swirled hectically around them. She sank over his thick shaft once more, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Please,” she urged again.

The heat of his hand practically scorched her. But he wouldn’t bring it against her ass where she wanted it.

Sinking her teeth into his lower lip, she went dead still. He shifted her weight atop him, obviously reaching for the unseen release. When she still didn’t move, he smacked her ass lightly.

“You can do better.”

“You dirty girl.” He growled and delivered a proper smack on her ass.

She’d never been smacked during sex, and the sting tumbled her into the swirling waters of release. Her pussy contracted around him, and she rode him faster, spurring him toward the finish line too.

He brought his hand against her other ass cheek. The sizzle of the slap shot through both of them. He tensed, his handsome face contorted in pleasure. Warmth bathed her insides.

As he massaged the spots he’d hurt so deliciously, she fought to slow her heart rate. The darkness of the old shed wrapped them in a private cocoon. She rested her weight on Utah and inhaled the scents of old hay and man.

This wasn’t two kids stealing a kiss. Sooner or later she’d have to admit she loved him.

She dozed in his arms, ear pressed over his heart.

The surprised shout woke her. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

Utah whipped Caroline off him and stood buck naked, arms outstretched, using his body to block her nudity. Through the dimness, he discerned the outline of a man.

“Turn your back and let the lady dress,” Utah demanded.

The form pivoted. “I dunno why the hell I’m listening to a trespasser.”

“Because a lady deserves her modesty.”

“You’re naked in my father’s shed. I think you’re at the disadvantage here.”

Caroline scrambled for her clothes. Utah jumped into his too. Once he had his boots on, he motioned for Caroline to stay, and he went outside with the man.

In the sunshine, he looked to be slightly older than Utah. Lines creased his eyes and mouth. He glared from under the brim of an old cowboy hat. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

“Utah Davies.” He stuck out his hand, and the guy shook it.

“This here is Alan property. Didn’t you see the posted signs?”

“No.”

“Then the electric fence didn’t deter you?”

It was probably unwise to smile, so Utah battled the urge. “I apologize. Sometimes love has a funny way of making you forget to follow rules.”

Mr. Alan gazed at him for a long moment. A begrudging smile came over his face. “Haven’t known that spark in many years, but I remember it. I can tell you aren’t from around here.”

“From Utah. Looking for someone who might live in this area. Maybe you can help me.”

Mr. Alan fiddled with his hat brim. “I didn’t shoot you for trespassing. That should be help enough.”

Utah gave a quick nod. “That’s fair.”

Caroline emerged from the shed. Hay clung to her hair, and she looked as if she’d just been well-fucked. His hand still burned from slapping her. Not because he’d hit her hard, but because it was so…

Different. Horrifying. Exciting.

Looking at Caroline now, he’d never suspect she possessed a hint of the kink she’d demanded from him an hour ago.

When Mr. Alan looked at her, she blushed ten shades of red. He kicked at the soil. “Tell me who you’re lookin’ for. I might know him.”

Utah smiled. “We’re looking for a man and a woman. Camden Davies or Emma Davies. Maybe even Jefferson Davies.” The past two days he and Caroline had discussed the fact that Jefferson may be named after Jefferson City, Missouri, rather than Jefferson, Kentucky. Or hell, Jefferson, Virginia.

This information only frustrated them more.

Caroline pressed herself against Utah’s side, and he wrapped an arm around her.

“I’ve heard of a Camden Davies. My little brother hangs out with him down at the Eagle’s Nest.”

Utah’s heart somersaulted. Excitement surged into his system. “What’s the Eagle’s Nest?”

“A bar.”

Caroline pushed her hair off her face. A strand of hay fell to the ground. “Is your brother around? Can we talk to him?”