Resisting Pressure (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 5) (15 page)

Feelings registered as sharp prickles, easing into her groin, moisture dampened her thighs.

“I bet you could almost come with me sucking these.” He licked one nipple.

She arched her back, wanting more of his magical hands.

“How much do you like this, sweetheart?”

“Mmm.”

“Tell me, baby. I need to hear.” He continued the sweet torture.

“I can’t get enough of your touch.”

“I could do this all night.”

“I think I would melt away.”

He chuckled. “And I’d lap you up.”

He smoothed his hand over her stomach, pausing at the top of her pubic bone. He moved his finger as if teasing her. She bucked her hips, a silent invitation to continue.

He dipped his hand, but didn’t touch her, hovered his hand a few inches above the apex of her thighs. She moaned and bent her knees, spreading her legs wide. He must know how hot she was. How much she craved for him to put out the flame at the junction of her body.

“I can smell your heightened passion.” He bit her ear lobe, gentle, but enough of a pinch that she jerked. “I love seeing the pink coloring on your skin and know I put it there.”

Her brain fogged. What did he say?

Instead of following through, he brought his hand back to her breasts, tweaking her nipples again into hardened nubs of sensitive flesh. She cried out, arched her back. She burrowed her head into the pillow, clutching her fingers together high above her head. She started to lower her hands, but he ceased her wrists holding them steady and high.

His free hand moved down her side, stopping at one hip. He moved his hand to her sex, and with one finger, he slowly glided into the wet seam, inserting his finger, the tip first, then to the knuckle, then deeper until all of his digit was in her.

“Yes. Wet and ready.” He exhaled slowly and slipped his fingers from her, bringing his hand to his mouth. He licked her juices from his fingers, whirling his tongue around the digits. “The taste is exotic.”

Oh crap! Her body was nothing but a ball of sexual tension.

“I want to touch you. I need to touch you!” She lowered her hands and smoothed her fingers over his shoulders, over his chest and down his coiled flesh until she reached the part of him that could satisfy the hunger within her. Clutching her hand around his length, she stroked him until a deep moan came from in his chest.

He reached over, grabbed something from the nightstand drawer. A condom. He ripped open the package and pulled out the sheath. “Here let me.” She took it from him, placing it on his tip and rolled it over him.

Once the condom was in place, he lifted above her, spreading her legs with his knee. She closed her eyes, anticipating his touch. “Look at me,” he whispered.

She fluttered her eyes open. His eyes were dark and mysterious. She reached her hands around his hips, clutching his tight bottom in her hands and pulled him down. “If I have to wait one more second I think I’ll scream.”

“Screaming isn’t a bad thing.” He smiled.

“It is if I wake up the guests in the other cabins.”

He grabbed his shaft, positioned it at her core, and in one slow thrust, he entered her. Afraid she might still scream, she pressed her lips against his shoulder, riding the waves coursing through her.

He wrapped his arms around her and together they rolled, his back to the bed and her on top. “Darlin’, you’re in control. Do to me what you please.”

Holy fuck. In charge? Of this cowboy?

“Is that too much?” he asked.

Her inner wild woman roared and her inner thighs fluttered in excitement. Something took hold in her and, in sheer need for exploration, she lifted his arms high above his head, holding his large hands under hers. “No touching. Only feeling.” She felt victory oozing through her. He looked like a warrior stretched out underneath her, his body tanned and coiled, sinewy muscles. He stared up at her, question filling his pale blues. “Problem, cowboy?”

“Other than I think I’ll explode, no, not one.” He closed his eyes and flexed his hips, she felt him harden even more.

“I think you like me being in control.” She rolled her hips and he sucked in a breath.

“You’ll hear no complaints,” he growled.

“I’ll only treat you like a king.” She bent and licked one flat nipple, then the other. He groaned and the sound vibrated his chest. She nibbled the fleshy diamond and he sucked in a breath, as she lifted her hips wide and moved down on his smooth, large shaft. His manly scent assaulted her senses.

“Oh shit, baby. You keep biting me and I won’t last another minute.”

Knowing he was so close because of her gave her a heady power. She continued to test him with her mouth, licking and stroking with her tongue until his body was ramrod hard. She kissed his stubbly chin, then his mouth, rolling her tongue between his lips. She clamped down, sucking his tongue then his lips, drawing each one in and gently nibbling. She pulled back, panting. Hell, she was supposed to be in charge, but he had her internally submissive.

“I like you on top. I can feel every ripple of that tight pussy.”

She braced her hands on his chest and lifted her body high, coming down upon him, impaling the junction of her thighs. 

“I want to see your face.” He sat up, bracing his back against the headboard.

He put his hands on either side of her cheeks and brought her face close, kissing her deep, mimicking the thrusts of her hips with his tongue. She groaned as he turned his hips, filling her, a sublime, agonizing pleasure trickled through her. “You fill every inch of me.”

“Yes, love. Feel it. Feel me deep.” He briefly closed his eyes as if he wanted to concentrate on the part of their bodies connected.

He held himself steady as if he needed to gain control of the whirlwind surrounding them.

He moved again, slow and steady, his tip rubbing her insides. The sensation rushing through her left her breathless and intrigued. She clutched onto him, clinging to him, sweat soaking their bodies.

“That’s marvelous!” she whimpered. He grinned. “Right there! Oh. My. I didn’t know it was possible to reach that far.” Her moan bounced off the walls, a tribal calling of need. Her hair tumbled down her back and he threaded his fingers in it, bringing it to his nose. “I could never get enough,” he said in a sexy, throaty tone that set off another round of tingles inside of her.

She held on to his shoulders, lifting herself up and down, up and down, pushing off him and back down with a gyration of her hips. His eyes were on her, wild with desire, his breathing ragged, matching her own. He lifted his pelvis, meeting her rigid thrust, bouncing her and she rode him cowgirl style. He picked up the rhythm, taking over the reins, up and down and the sensation was overwhelming, much more than she could have ever imagined—or thought possible. She brimmed with a raw desire that only one dreams about with a lover. Pulses of wild current washed over her, pounding through her temples. The roots of her hair tingled, pulses oozing deep into her chest and spiraling to the core of her body where he filled her to the hilt.

A thought crossed her mind. This cowboy’s body was hers for the taking, and she wanted his heart. Wanted him to love her, just as she loved him. “Yes, I do! I love you!” The words burst from her.

She fell down upon him, climaxing. He grabbed her hips, his hips tight, his jaw strained and she could feel the tide release. Together they collapsed onto the bed, stuck somewhere between an orgasmic heaven and reality—which would prevail?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

He’d heard her say it, he knew he had. Or had he been imagining that Violet told him she loved him? She’d cried out the words as she was coming, or did any confession in the midst of an orgasm even count?

Slowly the reality invaded the cocoon they’d wrapped around them as he pondered whether he should say something to her. Question if she had meant what she’d said to him.

He dragged her into the crook of his arm, loving her warmth, filling his lungs with the exotic fragrance of female and musk. The combination was heady. His body was pleasantly, languidly spent.

He didn’t want to move or break the moment between them. He could stay here, with her, forever.

She moved her head on his chest, rolling her fingers along the center and playing with the small patch of hair. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. She shifted her chin, looking up at him. “I said the words aloud, didn’t I?” Her eyes were like windows into her soul.

“Yes, you did.” Would she retract them? Tell him that she was on some coital high and didn’t realize what she was saying? His chest narrowed.

“I meant it, Keefer.” Her voice was so soft he almost imagined what she said.

“You did?” He lifted one strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger, wondering how it could be so soft.

“I know it’s crazy. I know it’s abrupt, but I think I’ve known for some time.”

Her honesty was disarming. All chains broke within him and his heart burst with pride. Could it be possible? This lovely woman loved him? “I had a rough childhood. I haven’t heard those words in a long time and I’ve never said them to anyone.”

She blinked. “Every child deserves to be told they’re loved.”

“I often wonder what kind of father I could be, not getting the nurturing a child needs to make them giving. Hell, I don’t even know what kind of a husband I could be.”

“Don’t we all have those fears?”

He shrugged. “Some of us have reason to be concerned. I do know though that I’m ready to take the plunge.”

“That’s a huge revelation.” Her body stiffened slightly. Would she pull away? A warning blasted in the back of his mind, but he ignored it.

“Yes, it is, but I think I’ve made it clear that I’m only moving forward in my life now. I’m not getting any younger.”

“You talk as if you’re on a strict timeline. You’re not that old.”

He dropped the strand of hair back onto her shoulder. He rubbed his jaw, hating that a part of him wasn’t sure Violet was ready to move forward, even if she said she loved him. “Being tossed around from foster home to foster home until I broke out of the system set my base, made me who I am, and I know now that I need a stable life to offer someone.”

“I feel sorry that you suffered from being in the system. That’s not right.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me.” He lifted himself on elbow and she shifted. “Violet?” She brought her gaze up and met his. “I need to tell you that I won’t be here after the end of the week. I plan to stay on my land as the final touches are being made to the house.”

She blinked. “Wow. That was fast.”

“Not really. It seems like a lifetime for me.”

“I’ll be headed back home at the end of the week myself.” Her eyes glazed over.

“Then what, Violet?”

She licked her lips. “What do you mean?”

“Where do we go from here?”

She grabbed the sheet and tugged it up to her breasts. “I-I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Really? You’ve said you love me, but you haven’t considered where we’ll go from this point on out?” He heaved a sigh.

“I wasn’t planning on telling you that I love you, not tonight.”

He jerked back.

He needed space to get his head together. He moved away from her, stood and went to the dresser and pulled on a pair of jeans.

She sat up, her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t plan to, but it’s the truth.”

He looked at her through the mirror. “I guess I’m just wondering where you see us in the future?”

She remained silent.

He turned, leaning against the dresser. “Do you trust me?”

“We had this conversation back in the shower. I told you—”

“Yeah, eighty-percent. Maybe in stock that’s a great number, but in a relationship it doesn’t hold much weight.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” He scrubbed his aching jaw. “Some jackass hurt you, not me. And what’s sad, you honestly think trusting someone eighty percent is a lot.”

“Considering I didn’t trust you any when we first met, I’d say I’ve come a long way.”

“I’m not trying to be a dick, but…well…love is a big word.”

“I’m not asking you to tell me you love me.” She slipped from bed, dragging the sheet with her as she stood up. He got a brief glimpse of her breasts and his cock twitched.
Down boy. This isn’t the time.
She walked awkwardly on the end of the sheet as she went to the chair where her clothes were folded. “You wanted me to share the most horrific time of my life with you and I did. I was honest about my feelings, maybe not at the best moment, but it is how I feel. I didn’t know it’d make you angry.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not angry.”

She dropped the sheet and put on her bra and panties, then turned, nailing him with an icy glare. “This is you overjoyed?”

“I’m not overjoyed either.”

Her shirt was on now. “I highly suspect you’re pushing me away.”

“What would be the sense in that when I’m the one asking for more, maybe a commitment?”

She shrugged and slid into her shorts. “Oh, that’s what you were asking? It sure felt like you were suggesting that because I love you I should suddenly have been lifted from the pain of the past, have miraculously been healed.”

“You know I don’t expect that you’ll not have baggage.”

“Baggage?” She turned to him, her brows scrunched. “I don’t have baggage, Keefer. I was take advantage of in the worst possible way. Just because he didn’t rip my clothes, use me as a punching bag, doesn’t mean that I didn’t—maybe still do—feel like damaged goods. Maybe I’m still grappling with the idea that you, an amazing man, my closest friend, actually like me for who I am. And the biggest thing, I love you because you look at me like I’m special, knowing what you do. Don’t start minimizing the impact of the past. Don’t start now. Please…not now.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not minimizing your past, or making out that there’s an instant remedy to what happened. I look at you like you’re special because you are. I wouldn’t want just anyone to be my wife.”

“I get—wait…what?”

Oh shit! What had he said? Damn. Double damn.

She looked as shocked as he was on the inside.

Why deny it though? He had thought about their future, staying together, starting a family with Violet.

“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but yes, this is what I want.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “We’ve gone from an ant hill to Mount Everest in a matter of seconds.”

“Go big or go home, right?” He smiled but her face paled.

“I need to go.” She backed up to the door.

“I thought you were staying?” Disappointment slithered through him.

“We need space. I need space.”

Then she was gone.

****

The next morning, Violet awoke in her own bed, physically fine, but emotionally she was in the eye of a tornado after last night’s events.

Marriage?

Her heart palpitated. Had they been in competition to see who could throw the other for the biggest loop?

Most women would be jumping for joy if a man like Keefer asked them to marry him. He had so much to offer.

Why the hell had she ran? She had needed to get away. To think—just think.

Taking a quick shower, dressing and heading downstairs, she found a note on the fridge from Ruby.

“Taking Jack to the doctor. Should be back in a few hours.”

Molly and Sam were still sleeping.

Sapphire had gone home last night.

The house was quiet.

This would give her some time to contemplate what she saw in her future. She’d be going back home to San Antonio in a few days. Maybe it was time she got back to her world and not here in this fantasy one.

She inhaled sharply and exhaled through tight lips. Maybe she needed to take a horse ride to clear her head. Yes, that would work.

Turning, she saw that she wasn’t alone. Standing in the kitchen doorway was Charles Peterson. His hair was sticking out all over his head. His eyes were red and he had a layer of beard growth. His clothes were wrinkled as if he’d slept in them, yet he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He plastered her with a cold, blank stare.

“What are you doing here? You need to leave.” Although fear glided through her, she held steady, not letting him unravel her.

“Where’s Molly and my son?” he mumbled.

Her mind branched out for answers. “They are with Cal.”

“You’re lying. Cal is working,” he said in a mundane tone.

“Then they must be at his place.” She grappled for an excuse.

“In the ranch hand quarters? I don’t think so.” His monotone voice made a chill race down to her spine.

“You need to leave. Now!”

“Not without my wife.”

She took a side step. Her phone was upstairs. She could scream, but then Molly, and maybe Sam, would wake up. Violet couldn’t allow him to hurt either of them. The hands were too far down on the property to hear anything.

“Look, Charles, I recognize you must be upset, but you have to understand that they’re safe here.” She tried to keep her voice light and encouraging.

“They were safe at my house.”

“That’s not true.” She took another side step. “You realize what you and Molly had wasn’t healthy.”

He dipped his hand into his back pocket and withdrew a knife, holding it against his thigh. The blade glinted in the light. “Don’t move.”

She stilled, even her breathing. “What do you plan to do with that?”

“I don’t want to do anything unless I’m forced to hurt you.” He took a short step. The screen door slammed behind him. “You shouldn’t have butted in where you don’t belong. Molly and me were doing fine. I let my drinking get out of hand, but I won’t drink again.”

“I didn’t make the choice for Molly. She wants a better life.”

“And what the hell does she know? I took her in, made her my wife. Without me she wouldn’t have Sam.” He pushed the knife against his tattered work pants, cutting the material.

“This isn’t the way to do things, Charles. It’s not too late to turn around and walk away.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

Realizing he couldn’t be talked down, she knew her only chance was to get him out of the house. Counting to three, she turned and made a mad dash into the livingroom, toward escape through the front door. He was fast, catching her before she could unlock the chain. He grabbed her by the hair and tugged her backward, throwing her down on the cold wooden floor where she slid several feet, hitting the coffee table. She kicked out, getting him in the knee, hard enough that he dropped, but he didn’t go down completely.

She crawled on her elbows toward the kitchen, but he caught her ankle. He was too strong for her to pull away. With her free foot, she kicked his jaw, but the force didn’t seem to do anything but piss him off more. The man was psychotic. He had both of her feet now, tugging at her, drawing her closer. The sharp blade scraped her leg, but she didn’t pay any attention as she clawed the table, fighting him.

“Stop right there!” The voice rung out above her heavy breathing and beating heart. She looked up. Molly stood in the threshold, the shotgun in her hand, aimed at Charles. “Get off her!”

Charles’s snicker echoed off the walls. “You won’t use that thing.”

“Get off her. She’s not who you want. I am. I’ll go with you,” she said.

He seemed to ponder her words then loosened his hold on Violet’s leg, getting to his knees and standing. The knife still clutched tightly in his hand, his knuckles white.

“What’s become of you, Charles? What were you going to do to her?” Molly’s chin shook.

“I can’t live without you,” he whimpered.

Was he crying? Violet didn’t dare look.

“Go ahead, Violet. Move away from him,” Molly urged.

Violet rolled onto her back, watching Charles closely as she scooted to the door, bringing herself to shaking legs.

“You’ll go with me, right?” he said to Molly.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

“No, Molly. You can’t go.” Violet called out.

Charles took a step toward Molly, knife still held steady. Violet started to open the front door but the blast of the gun made her stop. Charles was now on his side, clutching his bleeding leg. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!”