Cowboy of Mine (12 page)

He climbed the stairs of the porch, glancing up at Meredith. Her gaze was on him, looking over his ugly face then bouncing down his body. Fire exploded under his skin. Everywhere her gaze settled a new burn ached inside him.

Lord.

He stood on the step below where she stood, her face level with his. Mayhap she would ask him to sleep outside. Mayhap she would tell him how she hadn’t wanted to make love to a monster. He braced himself.

Instead, she said nothing. Just kept staring at him the way she did, her eyes huge and even in the dark night her violet orbs seemed to intensify, become a shade more purple. Fascinating eyes, hers were.

“Thought about ye all day.” Damnation. He’d meant to say he worried about her all day. That would’ve been the safe thing to say. Everyone worried about her and that prowler. Instead, he’d said such a damned fool-hearty thing.

Her chest rose under the wrap. “I missed you.”

His lips slammed into hers. Or mayhap hers had. Jake wasn’t too sure, but he felt so relieved he was kissing her again. Latching onto her lusciously curved hips, he pulled her closer. Her arms were around his neck faster than he thought possible, the plaid fluttering down. He caught it, then pulled her even closer, blanket and all, and lifted her from the porch. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and his cock came to life.

He had her inside the cabin in two strides, trying to keep up with her frantic kisses. Mayhap she truly had missed him. Mayhap he wasn’t such a fool after all.

He wanted nothing more than to lay her on the bed and make love to her. But they’d barely shared ten words to each other. Jake thought he should slow things down, so he set Meredith on her tiny table, trying to pull away from the draw of peeling off her clothes.

“Ye had a good day with Laura and Chen?” he asked, not sure how he managed to sound coherent, unlike the animal within him that wanted her naked and under him immediately.

She nodded and started to kiss down his neck, already unbuttoning his shirt. He shrugged off his duster, but then worried he’d muddy her floor with it puddled around him. Hardly able to manage the feat, he pulled away from her, then scooped up his coat and folded it on the back of one of her rickety wooden chairs. He made the mistake of looking at her then. Wearing a slim dark flowery pattern blouse with a gray skirt, she should have seemed ordinary. But she wasn’t. It was as if she were playing dress-up, like chits do. Oh, the clothes fit her well, what with her full round breasts stretching the fabric of her shirt, but Meredith seemed as though she was destined to wear...well, nothing. Or mayhap her almost transparent shift. It was as if Meredith actually was a fae and should wear garments made from the earth, or a sheet of silk for her covering.

Well, so much for his good intentions for them to talk.

He rushed to her, pushing her back on the table, desperate to feel her under him, all the while kissing her. Feeling her smile through their kiss was like receiving heavenly light in the midst of a storm. It felt so good and right, even as she kept at her job of unbuttoning his shirt.

He stilled her hands, somehow pulling away from her lips.

Swallowing, he whispered, “I have scars.” It was all he could say to warn her of what lay under his shirt. Mayhap it would be best to stay clothed. But he knew he wanted her nude. He wanted to see her the way he thought she was intended to be, wee fae-woman.

“All right.”

When she smiled up at him, he forgot his worries, he forgot to think if she’d be repulsed by him and his damned scars. He forgot everything in that smile and just poured himself in it.

Then he went to work on her shirt. Lord, there had to be a million buttons. Tiny ones too. Meredith already had her neck set free from the confining shirt. But this would take an eternity to get her out of it.

He growled his frustration and looked down at the offending garment. She softly chuckled, then her hands left his body and started on those little buttons.

“You know, women a hundred years ago were sewn into their dresses. No buttons.” Her voice was low and breathy, and Jake’s already excited cock tightened all the more at the sound.

He nodded and greedily watched her slowly reveal herself to him. “I ken.”

“Wouldn’t that be difficult? Undressing me if I were sewn into my dress?”

She was teasing him, and he liked it even more. He shook his head. “I’d just tear ye out.”

She let out a breath—part sigh, part moan. He lunged at her lips again. Kissing her feverishly, he started to undo her skirts.

Bent over her table, slightly tearing at her clothes, he probably should have tempered his reaction to her, his desire. But that sound she’d made had him completely undone. He couldn’t help but think she wanted him too. She might want him as much as he craved her.

Finally, her skirts and that damned blouse were free from her, but then he had to contend with her stays and shift. She’d opened her legs around him, and in so doing her shift had risen to her mid-thighs, and he loved the look of her lithe limbs. He pressed her shift farther up, but she stayed his hands.

“Could you please remove your holster?”

He blinked, then realized she was asking for him to take off his pistols. He wore one close to his ribs, but the other was noticeably down on his hip.

“Sorry. Must have been uncomfortable.”

She smiled. Lord, that went straight to his gut and made him feel dizzy.

Shaking her head, she whispered, “I kind of liked it, the leather on my leg.” Looking down, she giggled softly. “I’m such a pervert.”

“Aren’t I lucky then?”

Her laughter rose, heightened, and made his whole body tingle. As if he’d won a major battle, he felt like he was floating and had conquered the world when he made her laugh like that.

Still, as she sat up on her elbows, he unbuckled his belts, letting one of his Colts hit the floor, but the other holster he shrugged out of, placing the Smith and Wesson on his duster. Glancing down, he was surprised to see she’d done such speedy work with his shirt. Oh, he still had a couple buttons in place, but the majority were undone. Revealing his pockmarked skin. It was worse on his back, he knew, but still, he worried what she saw, especially of his two large bullet wounds through the left side of his chest and back.

Swallowing the thickness in his throat, he dared a peek at her. She was looking straight at what he feared—his skin. Her hand sneaked through the opening of his shirt, and her tiny fingertips feathered over his chest, down his stomach.

“Were you in pain?” Her voice had softened.

“Aye, er, yes.”

Her eyes were gigantic when she looked at him again, her hand over his stomach, the muscles under knotting in nervousness. “I’m sorry.” She undid the rest of his buttons, slowly opening his shirt more for her scrutiny.

“I can keep my clothes on, if ye prefer.” His own voice had gone too gravely.

Now she looked at him with incredulity. “Are you kidding? You’re beautiful. I don’t think I can take off your clothes fast enough.”

He stilled her hands, trying to rip his shirt off from his shoulders. “Ye see my scars, don’t ye?”

She nodded, but kept trying to remove his clothes.

He had to stay her hands once more, this time a bit more forcefully. One of the candles must have burnt out, for suddenly the room was a tad darker, but still there was enough light for her to easily make out his monstrous skin, scaled-looking, almost like reptilian hide.

“Ye see my scars?” He didn’t know why he asked again. But he had to know.

She stopped touching him. Then wrapped her dainty fingers around his hands and placed them on her hips. Her own hands then hooked into the top of his trousers and drew him nearer.

“I see,” she whispered against his neck. Then she leaned forward and kissed him over his breastbone, next along his collarbone. Her dexterous hands fluttered up his body, gliding around his chest as she kissed and licked his aching skin. He hated how good it felt to be touched like that, hated that he needed it, hated how damned vulnerable he felt. And yet loved it all the same.

She found one his nipples in her mouth, then suckled slightly, sending a bolt of energy down his body. He moaned and tilted his head up. Her fingers kept swirling and caressing all over his chest, then down to his stomach, where her wrist rubbed against his engorged length.

He hissed and looked down at her, her eyes still wide, this time with innocent wonder. She smiled then reached up and kissed him quickly on his lips.

“I see your scars, Jake. And I see so much more.”

His heart warmed and grew, and he fell into kissing her again, letting her take off his shirt, while he tried to unlace her stays. Vowing he’d make sure they remained undressed for the rest of the night, he let her do whatever she wanted, pulling at his pants, unbuckling the last of his belts, and then he felt her reach in his trousers to hold him in her hand.

“Oh, Meredith,” he moaned, sure his brogue had taken over completely. But he didn’t care. It was hard to care about anything other than the way she touched him.

She stroked him, and he grew frantic with finally unlacing her stays and pulling the stupid contraption down her body. In so doing, she’d had to stop caressing his cock, which might have been for the best. As it was, he was worried he’d come too soon again. Lord, he’d been embarrassed about that, but he hadn’t lain with a woman in so long, hadn’t allowed anyone to touch him. Then she...waking up the way he had...God that had been good.

He tore her shift up and over her head, then flung the white garment to the side. Looking down at his fae, he was a bit heartbroken she tried to cover her perfect body with her hands and arms. Her breasts were bountiful and she squished them, trying to hide herself. Her legs had come together, concealing everything but a small tuft of dark curls at the apex of her legs.

“Oh Lord,” he moaned and fell on her, kissing along her shoulder then down for that beautiful globe she tried to hide.

She leaned back onto the table, softly chuckling.

“Ye're so beautiful, Meredith. I want to see all of ye.”

She moaned a sound, almost protesting, but it slowly ebbed into approval. Jake thought he especially had her consent as she arched her back when he licked around her breast, then nipple. Her fingers tunneled through his hair, slightly pulling, heightening the already rigid tension mounting in his body. He sucked in her nipple, simultaneously licking quickly. Her back arched more. Her legs parted, and he was back, nestled between her creamy thighs. Still in his trousers, Jake was a bit surprised she had somehow gotten his cock out, which now nudged at her hip.

One of his hands explored her other breast, while the other roamed down her soft belly. He had no idea why she’d hide herself from him. She was perfect. Her tiny waist, her hips and breasts flared out in exquisite femininity. It was a woman like her that made men want to pick up a paintbrush or chisel and try to replicate her heavenly
nonpareil
.

“Ne plus ultra,”
he whispered in the valley between her breasts.

She moaned again. “Oh my God. You speak French too?” Her voice was once more breathy and desperate. The way he ached for her to be.

In an attempt to be anything like his father, Jake had begged and stolen much of his education. Well-learned men of his time spoke English and French, so he’d tried to learn the languages as best as possible. Of course, everyone spoke Gaelic, a touch of Scots, and a wee bit of English in the Highlands. But it was a certain kind of English he’d tried to learn by listening intently to the English officers whenever they happened to be in his lands, which was rare when he was a lad. However, there was one kind soldier, missing his own family, who had taken to young Jacob, teaching him French, proper English, Latin, and a little Greek too. Jake had longed to be more like his older brother, a man known for his skills and wealth, rather than the son of Albert Cameron. Anything other than to be associated as his father’s son.

“Hey,” Meredith pulled on his hair, forcing him to look at her. “Where did you go?”

Ach, hell. Why think such melancholy thoughts when the world’s most beautiful woman was under him? He smiled and resumed kissing her lips, then reached down between her legs and found her folds slick and warm. She moaned in his mouth. He located her love pearl and swirled around the little nub. Her legs opened more for him.

Vaguely, he realized she was reaching down his body too. She struggled with his trousers, yanking them down, but when he inserted a finger into her hot core, she gave up and grabbed his cock. Now it was his turn to moan and feel helpless against his growing desire, the tension already filling his lungs and body. Removing his finger while she placed him just so against her, Jake pushed just a wee bit and was inside her. Oh, she was so warm. His thoughts flew, only pondering about her heat, the tight sensation of being inside her.

He was losing his mind a little by the time he started to slide more into her body.

“More,” she begged, holding onto his shoulders now.

He gritted his teeth and prayed he’d make this good for her. Thrusting again and again, he barely held onto control as she asked for more. She kept asking, moaning that word every time he moved. He wanted to give her more. He wanted to give her everything he had.