Riding Hard (11 page)

As for Drake, although he’d kept his word about not mentioning Josie’s visit, he hadn’t kept the other part of the bargain. Thinking back on the course of events, she couldn’t really blame him. She’d made the first move, and it had been a doozy.

“I knew you’d be fit to be tied if you found out I warned him off. I didn’t ever plan to tell you, but now that I know Drake’s probably going to be over there a lot, it’s only fair you know what was said. I knew if the mare went into labor you’d call Drake. I hoped that wouldn’t happen, but after listening to Jerry Rankin, I had a bad feeling that it
would.
”

Tracy had no idea what to say. Josie’s worst fears had come true. She’d become involved with Drake, and maybe it would end up in a mess. But Drake had given her the courage to reach out for the passion she’d been denying herself out of fear. She cherished that he’d given her permission to be sexually adventuresome, but it wasn’t the kind of thing she was ready to tell Josie.

Josie’s expression was filled with compassion. “The thing is, I don’t...I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I appreciate that.” Tracy knew her friend’s motives were pure, but she’d left Tracy’s shiny new view of life somewhat tarnished. Not completely, but she didn’t feel as joyous as she had earlier this morning. She wished Drake hadn’t assured Josie he would stay clear. But she tried to imagine how she’d have felt if he’d told her then what he’d said to Josie. What if he’d rejected her because of that?

She would have been crushed. If her first attempt at seducing a man had ended in failure, she might not have worked up the courage to try it again. Drake had been in a no-win situation. He could either honor his word to Josie or help a repressed woman break away from her self-imposed restrictions.

He’d chosen to help her. That had to be worth something. Of course he’d enjoyed himself, too, so his decision hadn’t been totally unselfish.

“I should probably apologize for prying into your business,” Josie said. “But I think of you as a little sister. I’ve known you ever since you were a kid. You’ve had your share of lumps, and Drake is just not... He’s just not the man I would trust to make you happy. I wish he could be, but I don’t think so. Not right now, anyway.”

“You’re probably right. He is in a transitional period, and I can see him breaking a woman’s heart without ever meaning to do it. He’s gorgeous and women find him irresistible.” She hesitated, but there was no point in being coy. “Me included.”

“I know, honey, and I don’t blame you for that. He’s one hot guy. All I can say is, be careful. Be very careful.”

“I will.” But she hadn’t been at all careful so far.

Josie pushed away from the desk. “I’d better go fetch my son and let you get to work.”

“Yeah.” Tracy’s throat felt tight.

“If there’s anything I can do, let me know. If the foal’s been born, then you probably don’t need Drake to monitor the situation anymore. Jack could do it. He’d be glad to, in fact.”

“That’s very generous. I’ll let you know.” But inside she was loudly protesting that Drake was the man for the job. She didn’t want Jack or anyone else taking care of Dottie and Sprinkles.

She and Drake should do it. They’d been there for the birth, and they were the obvious ones to handle the next few days as mother and son became stronger. All four of them had shared a bonding experience, and Tracy didn’t want it to be over. Not yet.

Besides, tonight she was taking Drake out hat shopping. Buying him a hat wasn’t going to miraculously give him answers for how to live his life. She knew that. But she thought it might be a start.

11

D
RAKE
WAS
STANDING
at the island in the kitchen chopping veggies for Wilbur and Harley when he heard Tracy’s little white truck pull up outside. Two of his poetry journals sat on the small kitchen table. He’d gone back to the cabin for clothes, and after much inner debate, he’d brought his journals, too.

The decision hadn’t been easy. Right before driving away, he’d turned off the engine, taken the journals out of the SUV and put them back in the cabin. Then he’d called himself a lily-livered coward and thrown them onto the front seat, where his duffel sat filled with clean clothes.

That had been another difficult call. He didn’t know yet whether he was staying for more than one night. He’d finally decided on clothing for two days, hardly enough to make it seem he was moving in for the duration. If Tracy wanted him to stay longer, he’d run the washing machine. He hoped he’d end up doing that. He ought to wash Regan’s stuff, no matter how things worked out...or didn’t.

Tonight while they were in Jackson, he’d pick up replacements for the toiletries he’d used. Tracy might decide against telling Regan and Lily that he’d slept over. He’d respect her wishes on that.

All he knew was that the sound of her truck set his blood to pumping, and when she opened the front door, he had to stop himself from going to meet her. But he had a sharp knife in one hand and a head of cauliflower in the other. He stayed where he was and kept chopping. “I’m in here!”

When she walked through the kitchen doorway, he could tell something was on her mind. He’d fantasized that she’d come over and lay one on him in greeting, but it didn’t look as if that dream would come true. “Tough day?”

She managed a smile, but it lacked sparkle. “Not exactly. Let me get rid of my purse and I’ll help you.” She walked over to the kitchen table.

He held his breath.

“What’s this? Are these your...” Her voice trailed off.

When he glanced over, she’d picked up the top journal and opened it.

“You don’t have to read them now.” He was sweating, and not because the room was particularly hot. “In fact, you don’t have to read them at all. It was an afterthought to bring them.” Then he cursed under his breath. “Actually it wasn’t an afterthought. That was one of the reasons I drove back home this morning.”

She glanced up, her eyes shining. “Drake, this first one is beautiful.”

“I...um...thanks.” Dear God, he was blushing. He could feel it.

“It’s as if I’m there in the pasture with you in the early morning light, with dew on the grass, and the horses chasing each other,
their hooves tossing diamonds through sunbeams.
I love that!”

He swallowed. “This is way more embarrassin’ than I thought it would be.”

“Please don’t be embarrassed.” She closed the journal and held it against her chest. “You can’t know how honored I am that you’re willing to let me read what you’ve written. But you’ll have to help me with some of it. Your handwriting is atrocious.”

He chuckled and the knot of tension in his stomach eased. “Thank God for bad handwriting. This moment was just cryin’ out for some comic relief.”

“Bringing the journals was very brave.” She walked toward him, still holding the journal close.

Holding it against her heart.
Her reaction left no doubt that she understood what showing her those journals had cost him, would continue to cost him as she read through them. “I decided if you could step out of your comfort zone, then so could I.”

She came right up to him, then. Still holding the book clutched against her breast, she wrapped one arm around his neck. “Lean toward me, cowboy. I want to kiss you hello.”

He put down the knife and the head of cauliflower. “My hands are wet.”

She smiled. “I didn’t ask you to hold on to me. I’ll hold on to you. Just lean down like I asked you to. Last night you put me in charge, and I’ve discovered I like that. A lot.”

“I really have created a monster.” But he rested his wet hands on the counter and bent toward her as instructed, so that his mouth was available for her hello kiss, the one he’d thought he wouldn’t get.

Ah, but he got it now. She started out soft and light, but before long she’d invaded his mouth with her sassy tongue, and he’d returned the favor. When she began to suck on his tongue, his blood flowed south to the area he would love to have her suck on next.

They hadn’t gotten around to that particular game last night, and from the way she was kissing him, he’d bet money she was thinking about it now. He considered wiping his hands on his jeans so he could grab hold of her and carry her down the hall. Or hoist her up on the kitchen island. It was sturdy enough.

Just when he’d lifted his damp palms from the counter to take action, she broke away and stepped back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see her put down the book and unbutton her blouse. Or put down the book so he could undress her.

Instead she continued to hold it tight against her heaving bosom. “We can’t right now.”

The sound of their breathing was loud in the otherwise silent kitchen. He finally did wipe his hands on his jeans. “The way I’m feeling, it wouldn’t take long.”

Fire burned in her dark eyes, and her moist lips were temptingly parted as she gulped in air. Then slowly her gaze lowered to his protruding fly. Her voice was pure temptation. “Promise?”

His heartbeat went from fast to rocket speed. He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He couldn’t even bring himself to turn down her unspoken offer. He’d been semiaroused all day thinking about her, and one kiss had tipped the balance. He ached with a fierceness that could last a while, unless...unless he surrendered. He looked into her eyes. “Promise.”

Her slow smile of anticipation was all any man could wish for. She’d not only offered. She wanted to. Setting the journal on a tall stool next to the island, she knelt in front of him and reached for his zipper. Blood sang in his ears as she drew it down. She found the opening in his briefs and freed his eager penis.

Trembling, he braced himself for the first slide of her mouth. Fast was one thing. Coming the second she began was not his idea of cool.

As she wrapped her fingers around his girth, she lifted her head and looked up at him. “You have a beautiful cock, Drake Brewster.”

Once again, she’d left him speechless. That soft groan had probably come from him, though. His brain lacked a normal blood supply, so he couldn’t be sure of anything.

She gave him that sultry smile again. “I look forward to paying my respects to it.” With that, she dipped her head and took him in.

The woman didn’t mess around. She took him deep, so deep that the sensitive tip bumped the back of her throat. He gasped and fought the urge to come. He was so glad he fought that urge, so glad he’d held on for the next part.

That first move was only the beginning of the ride. Next she used her tongue to massage the front ridge. After that she hollowed her cheeks and slid her mouth up and down in a rhythm guaranteed to make him a happy man. And all the while she used both hands to squeeze, stroke and pet him until he was delirious with pleasure.

He shoved his hands into her glossy hair and sent hairpins flying. His moans increased as she moved faster and sucked harder. At last those moans blended into one triumphant cry as he erupted. As his cock pulsed in the warm haven of her mouth, his lust-soaked brain swirled with one overarching thought—he’d never had sex this good.

She stayed with him to the end, her swallows the kind of erotic sound men dream of. Shuddering with the force of his orgasm, he gripped the edge of the kitchen island for support.

Gently she rearranged his briefs and carefully pulled the zipper back in place. “There.”

His laugh was more of a croak, but he mentally saluted her for getting in one more cheeky comment relating to their joke from last night. Besides being an enthusiastic lover, she was just plain fun. When he’d first met her at the Spirits and Spurs, he hadn’t guessed that. Then again, she’d disapproved of him. Judging from what had just happened, she no longer did.

He recovered enough to help her to her feet. “You’re incredible.”

“You inspire me.” She picked up his journal and held it as before, pressed against her heart.

He met her gaze. “If my poetry affects you that way, I’ll devote my life to it.”

“Let’s put it this way—your poems didn’t hurt your cause any. Women are suckers for a poetry-writing man. I’m surprised you’ve never shown it to other women.”

“Maybe I should have trusted them more, but I didn’t.”

She studied him for several seconds. “Why me?”

“I’ve asked myself the same thing.” He cupped her face in both hands and looked into the unexplored depths of those beautiful eyes. “For some reason I feel safe with you. I didn’t expect I ever would, especially after our blowup at the dinner table. But you explained why that happened, and then...then you put yourself out there, took the risk.” He smiled. “I guess you could say you put your money where your mouth is. Not everyone has the guts to do that.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I didn’t used to. You came along at the perfect time, when I was ready to grow. You sprinkled on some fertilizer, and I blossomed.”

He grinned. “Are you telling me I’m full of shit?”

“Yeah.” She laughed and gave him a squeeze. “And that was exactly what I needed, apparently. So what do you say? Ready to finish feeding the critters and go buy a hat?”

“If I wasn’t before, I am now. If I’m worthy of what you just did, I’m sure as hell worthy of a hat.”

“Excellent. Then let’s get to it.”

Less than an hour later, they’d fed everyone and made sure Dottie and Sprinkles were progressing as expected. Tracy had fixed the hair arrangement he’d destroyed and settled into the passenger seat of his SUV.

She’d wanted to bring one of his journals for the road, but he’d talked her out of it. He couldn’t handle having her read snippets of his work to him while they sailed down the highway. And she would have. He’d already figured that out.

When they were finally headed toward Jackson, she leaned back into the leather seat, anticipation glowing in her eyes. “If you want, we can grab something quick for dinner before we look for hats.”

He set the SUV on cruise control. The sun was low on the horizon and traffic was light. Easy trip. “I do want food at some point. A really good orgasm makes a man hungry, and you, ma’am, gave me a really good orgasm.”

“Glad to hear it. You probably won’t believe this, but I’ve never initiated something like that. I’d do it if a guy asked me, but I wasn’t bold enough to suggest it on my own, especially in a kitchen.”

He couldn’t resist teasing her. “How about in a dining room? Is that any better?” She started to laugh, and he kept going. “What about the laundry room? Or the hallway? I personally think a blow job in the hallway would be—”

“Stop!” She punched him playfully on the arm. “I just meant that I’ve never had oral sex anywhere except in a bedroom.”

“Are you talking about you doing it to him or him doing it to you?”

“Both. Either. Only in bedrooms.”

“We have to remedy
that.
I didn’t realize last night was a damned cliché.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t.”

“You’re sure?” He shot her another look and discovered that her cheeks were pink. “I mean, we were in a bed, so how special could it be for you? Been there, done that.”

“Not with such...finesse.”

“Ah.” He liked the sound of that.

“Or concentration. I’ve never come twice in a row during oral sex.”

“Then maybe it wasn’t such a cliché after all.”

“You’re fishing for compliments!”

He shook his head, although he totally was. With great effort he managed not to laugh. “I just don’t want to be redundant.”

“You are absolutely fishing, but I don’t mind telling you that the oral sex with you is the best I’ve ever had.”

Now that was enough to make a man’s chest puff out, for sure. “I’m glad to hear that. I—”

“And now that I’ve stroked your male ego, it’s—”

“Stroked my ego? Do you mean you were lying?”

“Not at all. You rocked my world in a way no man ever has, but if you can fish for compliments, so can I. How would you rate my blow job?”

He almost drove off the road. “
Rate?
What do you mean,
rate?
”

“On a scale of one to ten. Obviously you’ve had much more experience than I have, so I don’t expect you to score me at the top. I can put you at the top of my chart, because, to be honest, you don’t have much competition.”

“So I’m in a race with losers?”

“Not losers. Just men who were unimaginative in bed, and like me, probably didn’t have a lot of experience. Since you’ve had plenty of experience, I’d be curious how I did with that episode in the kitchen.”

The discussion was making him cranky. “First of all, you make me sound as if I’ve had dozens of women, which I haven’t.”

“Okay, how many?”

“A gentleman doesn’t discuss specifics with a lady.”

“Ballpark figure, then. More or less than twenty?”

“I’m not answering that.” Because he couldn’t. He’d have to sort through his entire sexual history, which would take some time. But he was afraid it was more than twenty, and that...sounded like a man who had superficial affairs.

At this moment, he didn’t want to confirm what Tracy probably already suspected. He’d never had a serious relationship. Not ever.

“I’ll assume it’s more than twenty,” she said, “because if it had been less, you would have said so. Okay, forget about the count. Let’s get back to rating my performance in the kitchen. You can tell me the truth. As I said, I don’t expect to outrank everyone. I’m too inexperienced for that.”

“Damn it, it’s not a sport.”

“You’re afraid to hurt my feelings. Really, you won’t.”

Just the opposite, he thought. He was afraid to tell her how strongly she affected him, for fear she’d make assumptions about a future that was unclear to him.

He began by hedging. “If I tell you the truth, I don’t want you to put too much importance on it.”