Cowboy Heaven (15 page)

Selfish or not, I still wished he hadn't died at all, and that he had lived long enough to see me go before him. Sure, I survived, and I was doing much better now. However, there had been a time when I didn't think I would get through it. Everything reminded me of him. Every silence that would have been filled with the sound of his voice. Every moment of laughter we would have shared. Every lonely feeling that wouldn't have existed had he lived.

Joe was right in saying it was a miracle I hadn't come out to the bunkhouse seeking solace long before this. The trouble was, until he'd broken his leg, Dusty wouldn't have been there. He would've been out working with the other men, and I would have visited the bunkhouse only to find even more emptiness.

But Dusty was here now. Did he know how precious he looked lying there asleep? Did he have the slightest idea I felt the way I did? Probably not. I'd never said anything to him, and I'd tried very hard not to let my feelings show. Obviously, I hadn't done a very good job if Rufus suspected me of carrying a torch for Dusty, although sometimes longing gazes are more easily seen by a detached observer.

Dusty's smiles… How I'd cherished the few that were openly aimed in my direction. Did he know that? Did he know how often I sought him with my gaze? How long it had lingered? Perhaps Troy had been right in suspecting that I
did
have someone already. I hadn't realized it at the time, and I seriously doubted I would have had the nerve to do anything about it even if I had. I wouldn't have thought I would stand a chance with Dusty.

Unfortunately, if what he'd said was true, he didn't think he stood a chance with me, either. I still found that difficult to believe, even knowing he'd been warned off by Rufus enough to convince him his feelings were pointless. He'd told me things I never dreamed I would ever hear him say, and I'd had to put him off because of Troy.

Troy, whom I'd picked up from the side of the road like a stray dog. Troy, who might stay on after Dusty recovered or he might not. Troy, about whom I knew virtually nothing, nothing beyond where he was from or the date of his birth. I might've been imagining things during his last nocturnal visit. Nevertheless, I was pretty sure he was done with me.

None of that mattered now. Deep down, I'd already made my choice.

And he lay sleeping, right there in front of me.

Exhaustion overcame me at last, and I drifted off to sleep. A deep, contented slumber from which I awoke to discover Dusty lying on his bunk in silence, regarding me with thoughtful eyes.

My smile was rather sheepish, for I knew I shouldn't have been there. “I brought you some lunch, but you were already asleep.”

He smiled at me in a most peculiar manner, prompting me to ask if I'd been snoring.

“No,” he replied, still with that same enigmatic smile. “You weren't making a sound.” He paused for a moment, visibly steeling himself as if about to say something very difficult to express. “You know when you said something earlier about not needing to get all mushy? I really wish you would have. You saved my life, Angela. You know that, don't you?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I suppose I did.”

“In some cultures, I would belong to you now.”

With no idea how to respond, I waited anxiously for what he would say next.

“I wouldn't mind that,” he went on. “Not one little bit.”

I glanced away, unwilling—or unable—to meet his gaze any longer. Had he somehow read my thoughts while he lay there dreaming?

“What would you have done if I hadn't sent you home after you got rid of that snake? Should I have done that, or not?”

“That depends on what you wanted me to do.” I spoke with caution, unsure as to where this was leading or how far it would go. “I'm guessing I might've gotten pretty mushy.”

“I said you could if you wanted to,” he reminded me.

I took a deep, fortifying breath before coming to what I considered to be the catch. “But you didn't say
you
wanted it, did you?”

“No,” he admitted. “I should have, though. I was being noble or some stupid shit like that. Troy seems like the jealous type. When I kissed you that day, I didn't know you were seeing each other.”

“And I couldn't tell you. I'm sorry about that. I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but I didn't see how I could possibly explain it without mentioning Troy, and he was…a secret.”

He nodded. “But I know now, so I thought you should probably go on home without, well…you know.” Toying with the edge of the quilt, he studied it for a moment before glancing up at me. “That was pretty stupid of me, wasn't it?”

“Possibly,” I admitted. “No one would have ever known. Not even Troy.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Come here, Angie. Get mushy on me now. Please. I
belong
to you. You can do anything you want with me.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” Heaving a sigh, he held out a beckoning hand. “Just so long as it's not
nothing
.”

I was in his arms in a heartbeat, kissing him like I'd never kissed anyone before. Raining hungry, passionate, loving kisses all over his face, letting them spill down his neck like hot wax. Then I went back to his lips and melted all over again. Twining my arms around his shoulders, I squeezed him as hard as I could. He was mine, and I wanted him so desperately…

“Oh, Angie,” he murmured. “Love me, use me—abuse me if you like—but please don't stop. I'll just up and die if you stop.”

Unbuttoning his shirt, my kisses moved lower until my chin touched his belt buckle.

He groaned, sounding as though the air had been ripped from his lungs. “Oh God, Angie. Please don't stop there.”

Unbuckling his belt, I unzipped his jeans and dragged them down over his hips along with his briefs. His cock snapped up to meet me, and I kissed him shamelessly up and down his engorged shaft.

“It's yours,” he gasped. “Take it.”

Needing no further encouragement, I went down on him with gusto. I glanced up as Dusty sucked in a breath, the air hissing through his teeth. Blond curls framed his handsome face, and his eyelids had drifted to half-mast. Having drawn in that breath, his mouth now hung open—although whether in ecstasy or surprise, I couldn't have said.

His cock was hot and hard in my mouth, and his slippery essence coated my tongue. I sucked more syrup from his slit, delighting in his moans and sighs as I smoothed it over his skin. My own moisture began to pool at the apex of my thighs, doing nothing to soothe the searing ache growing inside me. Only Dusty could ease that pain. I toed off my boots, yanked off my jeans, and straddled his hips.

Slowly impaling myself with his hot cock, I closed my eyes, savoring the size and heat of him. Every direction I moved brought with it new and exciting sensations. Pleasing, yet stimulating…

Wonderful.

Oh yes. This was what I'd been missing—not Troy, not Cody, but Dusty…my darling Dusty. He was the one. I knew it now, though I was at a loss to explain
how
I knew it. Perhaps it was the way he cradled my hips with his strong hands, or the way he managed to thrust against me quite effectively despite the cast on his leg. I had no idea why, and yet something was different. Something perfectly, magically, undeniably
right
.

My orgasm began the inexorable buildup to detonation, and I squeezed him deep within me, my tight inner muscles provoking his own gasping response as I groaned in mind-shattering ecstasy.

Oh
my
God, yes…

My mind shouted the words, telling me in no uncertain terms that this was what I'd been waiting for all my life. Seconds later, Dusty came so hard he nearly bucked me off. I held on, riding his climax, forcing my hips down harder while relishing each and every power-packed jolt he fired into me.

As I looked down at him, taking in his dazed expression, his eyes, his hair, his face—his adorable, lovable face—something seemed to snap into place with a nearly audible click.

Troy had been right. I
didn't
need him. I already had someone to love—perhaps as much, if not more so, than I had loved Cody—and it wasn't my boy toy. It was this man. This man whose life I'd saved, whose smile filled me with delight, whose lips made me sure I would stop breathing if I never tasted them again. I'd been in love with him for ages. I simply hadn't realized it until that moment.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” His whispered words duplicated my thoughts exactly. “Any idea at all?”

“No.” I might have thought I knew, but I wanted to hear it from him. “Tell me.”

His smile was wistful. “I knew you and Cody were very happy. I knew I'd never get the chance to show you how I felt, but I stayed on anyway. All I needed was to see you once in a while, perhaps even exchange a few words with you. I thought I could live with that, but on those days when I didn't get to see you I felt wasted and empty.

“When Cody died, it was even worse. You were free, but with things the way they were, I still couldn't have you. I should've quit this job years ago. Trouble was, every time I thought I could do it, you'd smile at me and I'd forget all about leaving. I never went looking for another woman because I loved you too much for anyone else to keep my interest for more than five minutes.” Tears shimmered in his eyes, threatening to run from the corners of his eyes if he so much as blinked. “Do you have any idea what it's like to love someone that much and not be able to have them? Do you?”

Gazing at him through my own tears, I nodded.

“Cody,” he said flatly. “You still feel that way about him, don't you?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore.” I leaned down and kissed him gently. “Not anymore and not ever again. I have you to love now. You're the one I want. I won't ever need anyone else as long as I have you.”

He didn't seem convinced. “What about Troy?”

“Troy was a lot of fun, but I don't love him. Hell, I barely even know him.”

“And Joe?” Dusty pulled me down beside him on the bunk. The arrangement was crowded, but cozy.

“You're really leaving no stone unturned here, aren't you?” I chided. “No, I don't love Joe—although I probably could love either of them if I put my mind to it. On the other hand, loving you doesn't take any effort at all. That happened all by itself. I don't know when, exactly, but it did happen.”

Dusty seemed relieved, letting out a sigh as he hugged me. “I remember
exactly
when it happened to me. You were out in the barn with that big, black gelding you used to have—you know, the one that would bite any of us who walked by? Anyway, you were brushing his shoulder and he curled his head around and lipped you on the seat of your pants. I was afraid he was biting you until I saw it was more of a kiss than a bite. All you did was pat him on the nose. Later on, you gave him a kiss and a hug, and I thought: Now
there's
a woman so completely lovable even a mean old horse can't resist her. What hope did I have?”

Tears stung my eyes as I recalled those times. Galloping across the range on a horse I trusted with my life. I'd had other horses, none of them quite like that one. “Good ol' Victor. I still miss him. He was the absolute best. It about broke my heart when he died.”

“I would have given a lot to have been in Cody's place, even then. To be the one to console you, to put my arms around you. You never knew that, did you?”

“No,” I replied. “Although at the time, I probably would've welcomed a hug from any of you guys. My God, I was miserable! I've had lots of horses in my life, but I
loved
that one. The vet had done all he could, and for a while there, I thought he was going to be okay. But then he went down again, and I knew it was over. I sat up with him all night, and anytime I left him, even for a minute, he'd nicker at me when I came back, right up until the moment he died. I probably should've had the vet put him down, but I didn't have it in me. I didn't want to let him go.”

I hadn't thought about Victor in a long time. Like every other loss, the memory still hurt. Losing Cody was a million times worse, but Dusty and I had shared those losses. We had a history together. It made a difference.

“I don't want to let
you
go, either,” Dusty said after several minutes of quiet reflection. “But you might want to put your jeans on. The guys will be back any time now.”

Romantic
interlude
over, back to reality.

“Yeah, well, if you don't want Bull ragging on you for lying around sleeping all day, you might consider getting up yourself.” Getting reluctantly to my feet, I fished around in my jeans for my panties and put them back on.

“I don't know if I can. Some wild woman just had her wicked way with me.” He might've sounded innocent, but the glint in his eyes was impossible to miss. “I may never walk again.” His jeans were still at half-mast and his shirt lay open, revealing the golden hair on his chest. A nest of blond curls surrounded his cock, which rested on his thigh. I stood there, staring at him, knowing I'd have to go a long way and see a lot of stuff before ever laying eyes on anything more appealing. Steeling myself against the desire to lick him clean, I tossed him a box of tissues before snatching my boots and jeans from the floor.

Dressing as quickly as I could, I shot him a scowl. “You'd better get up. If you lie around long enough, someone might put a rattlesnake in your bed.”

“You still think that was deliberate, don't you?”

I stopped dead with one leg in my pants, watching in awe as Dusty dried himself off before wiggling back into his jeans. That simple act might not have the same effect on every woman, but I, for one, couldn't move a muscle—or even breathe—much less answer him until he was finished.

Apparently, he mistook the reason for my silence. “You do, don't you? I don't believe it myself. There's absolutely no reason for anyone to want to kill me—although Troy might have a decent motive.”

“Troy?” I'm sure I looked every bit as perplexed as I felt. “Why on earth would he—”

The “well, duh” expression on Dusty's face answered my question.

“Oh yeah. Right. I see your point.” I sat down heavily in Dusty's chair. “I'm gonna sound real stupid telling him I'm in love with you when I've been denying it left and right ever since he got here.”

Dusty's grin was decidedly smug. “I guess that cute ass won't get him everything, huh?”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “At least his dick wasn't bigger than yours. Otherwise I never would've given him up for you.”

He gasped in mock dismay. “Is that all I am to you? A big enough dick?” His lower lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout.

Among
other
things.

Even pouting, he was still adorable. “Oh no, you're much more than that. As I recall, your ass was pretty nice too—and you
did
win the cutest balls contest.”

He chuckled. “What would you call a guy who had my balls, Troy's ass, and Joe's dick?”

“Honey,” I replied, reaching for my boots. “Sweetheart, baby doll, darling—”

“Enough of that,” he grumbled. “I get the picture. So, what would you call me? You know…the one with cute balls, decent dick, nice ass, and a broken leg?”

I pulled on one boot and then the other, making him wait until I was finished before giving him my answer.

“Mine,” I replied, grinning like the proverbial cat that got the cream. “All mine.”