Stone Cold Cowboy (18 page)

S
adie ran through the storm across a field, fear driving her to sprint harder. Her breath sawed in and out until she could barely breathe past the tightening band around her chest. Her heart pounded against her ribs until she felt like the bones would snap. The icy rain pelted her bare skin like razor blades. Lightning flashed, revealing the crimson blood running over her skin. Thunder boomed through the night as she ran for the man standing at the other end of the green field. Her father stood with his arms open, ready to take her away from the raging storm. And her life here. She screamed and sat bolt upright in bed, holding her arms up but seeing nothing except her pale skin with the red ring of scars around her wrists.

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm her heart, and raked her fingers through her still damp hair, pulling it away from her sweaty face. As the fine sheen of sweat covering her body dried, a chill raced over her skin.

She stared around the unfamiliar room, trying to orient herself. Rory's room. She was safe. No one lurked in the dark corners. No one was after her. No
one screamed for her to help, but only ended up hurting her in the end.

She understood the dark nightmare. Her mind telling her to leave this thing with Connor alone. She couldn't fix it. If she continued to try, she'd only put herself in harm's way again. She'd end up dead and reunited with her father. The fear coursed through her, but she still faltered on whether she could turn her back on Connor and live with herself.

Sleep eluded her and offered little distraction for her overactive mind that used sleep to make her face things she didn't want to think about anymore. She threw off the covers and rolled out of bed. The house stood quiet around her. No lights hinted that someone might still be awake as the night neared two in the morning. She padded down the stairs and headed for the kitchen for a glass of water. Luckily a soft night light cast a warm glow over the countertops by the sink. She pulled a glass from the strainer and filled it at the tap.

Drawn into the living room where Rory slept soundlessly on the couch, she stared down at him, smiling to herself that his big frame didn't quite fit on the sofa. His huge feet sat propped on the armrest. He'd put on a shirt. Too bad. She liked looking at all those muscles. The man was built. Tall and lean. She ached to touch him. She wanted to run her fingers through his thick blond hair.

Moonlight streamed through the window and glinted off his golden beard. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days. She liked the scruff. It made him look dangerous, especially when he didn't smile. Which was less often now when she was with him. He smiled at her all the time. The first time she heard him laugh, her
stomach knotted with nerves because she'd wanted to kiss him so bad for looking so good. He'd been sitting at the table with his brothers, talking about their day. Colt told them about how he'd been cleaning out horse stalls. One of the most ornery horses graciously made a fresh mess for him. When Colt cussed, the horse shifted and dumped Colt right on his ass in the pile of horseshit.

Grandpa Sammy nearly choked, coughing and sputtering his favored beer, but Rory tilted his head back and let out a huge belly laugh, the smile on his face making his eyes sparkle with mirth. In that moment, she'd seen the man he was meant to be, not the one he'd grown into as the head of the family and ranch, so filled with responsibility and duty.

She'd remember his laugh for the rest of her life. She hoped to find hers again someday. Right now, her feelings were all mixed up. Grief for her father. Anger for her brother. Fear Derek would find and use her again as leverage against her brother—or worse, as some sick and twisted payment for the debt her brother owed.

A chill went up her spine, shivering through her whole body, making her drop the glass of water. It thudded on the rug, but luckily didn't break.

“Sadie.” Rory's deep, sleepy voice rasped.

“Uh, sorry. Let me get a towel to mop that up,” she whispered. She dashed into the kitchen and pulled a clean dishtowel from the drawer beside the dishwasher. She ran back into the living room just as Rory set the glass on the table. He sat on the sofa and scrubbed his hands over his face, yawning.

“What are you doing up, sweetheart?”

Sadie mopped up the water, pressing the towel hard
against the carpet to soak up all the liquid. “I couldn't sleep. Nightmare.”

“You look like you just had another one. Come here.” Rory reached for her hand and gently tugged.

She stepped up off her knees and landed on the sofa next to him. She went willingly, feeling like a complete idiot for letting her ghosts spook her.

Rory turned toward her and reached for her face, his warm palm cupping her cheek. “You're so pale. What's wrong?”

She shook her head and sighed. “Nothing. Everything. I'm so tired, but I can't sleep.”

“You're not used to being here. A strange place, it's hard to relax. After all you've been through lately, you're bound to have a few nightmares. What can I do?”

“Nothing. I'm sorry I woke you. I didn't want to be alone, so I came down for some water and . . .”

“And?”

“To look at you.”

“Like what you see?”

She bumped her shoulder into his, smiling. She reached up, touched his face with her hand, and swept her thumb over the grin on his lips. “I really love it when you smile.” She laid her head on his shoulder, sagging against him.

Rory slid behind her, settling back on the couch, and pulled her down with him. “Stay with me. I'll keep the nightmares away.”

“Because you're a dream come true?”

He chuckled, tucking the blanket around her as she cuddled into his warmth. “If you say so.”

“I'm totally losing it if I'm saying mushy things like that to you. Forget I ever said it. Please.”

“No way. You said it. I'm your dream guy.”

She couldn't believe the man she once thought cold grinned and teased with her in the dark, all to take her mind off her troubles and make her smile. Light, fun, the way he acted with his family, he now showed her so easily.

Rory's hand settled on her hip and squeezed. She snuggled closer, her bottom tucked up against his groin. Totally intimate. The chill that raced through her earlier was long forgotten under the wave of heat that spread through her system now with Rory's body cradling hers.

With his massive shoulders taking up all the space, she couldn't find a comfortable spot on his arm that he left out straight for her to lie on. In another ten minutes, he'd lose all circulation and she'd have a stiff neck.

“This couch isn't big enough for the two of us,” she complained. “Make room for me.” She flipped over, pulled on his middle for him to flatten out, then lay on her side, her leg over his, and laid her head on his shoulder, her cheek pressed to his chest. His arm was still out straight, so she shifted again. “Put your arm down my back and make sure I don't fall off.”

“You asked for it.” Rory draped his arm down her back and planted his hand right on her ass. “Better?” The laugh in his voice only set the butterflies in her belly to flight again.

“Yes.” She rocked her hips against his thigh. “And no.”

His hand tightened on her bottom. His other hand clamped on to her bare thigh. “Stop moving, or I won't be held responsible for what happens.” He shifted uncomfortably below her, but only managed to rub
against her center with his thigh more. With no underwear and only the soft cotton nightgown between them, she moaned.

“God, don't do that,” he grumbled.

He smelled clean, like soap and a spring day. She tilted her head and inhaled his scent. Restless, she leaned up and stared down at him.

“What are you doing now?” His gruff, pained voice made her smile.

“Kissing you good night.”

He tried to say something, but she pressed her thumb to his lips and trailed it down to his scruffy chin. “Shh.” Her lips met his in a soft kiss that lingered a few seconds so he could settle in. Once he did, she swept her tongue along his bottom lip, then kissed just that one lip, sucking gently. His hands contracted on her thigh and bottom. She kissed him again, sliding her tongue past his lips to taste the need building inside both of them. He pulled her thigh up his body and over the rigid length of his erection, then back down again.

“You're playing a dangerous game, little one.”

Inches from his face, she stared into his hungry eyes. “It's no game, Rory. I just want to be close to you. You make me feel, and right now, I want to feel all the good until it fills me up.”

This time she rubbed her thigh up his legs and over his hard length, pressing her body against his as she lowered her mouth to his again.

Rory groaned, giving in to her sweet temptation. The woman meant to drive him mad, but if she wanted to feel good, he'd make her feel damn good.

She slid her leg up and over his dick again. He slid his hand down her thigh, under her nightgown, and
over her bare bottom. The woman had skin like silk. Everywhere he touched she was soft and supple. Her curves were sexy as hell. He tried not to think about the way she caressed him, the press of her breasts against his side, or the sensual way her tongue slid along his, slow and easy like a ballad, like she had all the time in the world to love him.

He dipped his hand over her bottom to her soft folds. Her leg stilled over his length and pressed down on him. She rocked against him to ease the ache, but it only made it worse, so he concentrated on his task—making her feel good.

He'd let her control the kissing, the timing, hell, him, but now he took the kiss deeper, letting her know he could command her just as she had him. He rubbed his hand back down her thigh. She breathed out her regret that he'd left the one place she really wanted him to touch her. He circled his fingers over her skin until her body softened against his. He swept his hand slowly back up her thigh, over her nicely rounded bottom, to her wet center. He rubbed the pads of his fingers ever so gently over her soft folds, teasing her with a light touch when what she really wanted was something much more intimate and urgent.

Her soft moan drove him on. He smoothed his fingers up, then down softly over her folds, driving one finger deep into her hot core. Her hips rocked back, and she took his finger deep. She broke the kiss, tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and sighed out her pleasure.

“God, you're so damn beautiful.” He thrust his finger deep again just to hear her make those erotic sounds that echoed through his mind and heart like a beacon calling him home.

She slid one hand down his chest and stomach, then back up under his shirt. Her warm hand pressed to his pecs, her fingers squeezed his muscles, and she rocked back and forth into his hand.

He used his free hand to push her hips on top of his. His aching cock pressed to her soft belly. He took her mouth in a deep kiss, trying to hold off his own release as her body moved over his. It took everything he had not to free his swollen flesh and bury himself deep inside her slick heat.

“Rory.”

His name on her lips sounded like the sweetest song.

He kneaded her bottom, pushing her down on top of him. He'd found his own soft rhythm, rocking his cock against her. She shifted again, rocked her clit against his dick as his finger sank deep again. She sucked his bottom lip, then kissed him hard.

“Rory, I want you inside of me when I come.”

He thrust two fingers deep this time and she groaned, rocking harder against him. “Condoms are upstairs. This one is for you.”

He spread his fingers wide over her ass and pressed her down on top of him, thrusting his fingers deep as she rocked back into his hand. She tightened around him and moaned, her forehead pressed to his chin. She rode out the aftershocks as he gently withdrew, pulsing his fingers in and out of her slick core until he was finally free. She stretched like a contented cat over him, rocking her pelvis over his aching flesh. He pressed both hands to her perfect ass and held her still.

“Stop. I'm riding the edge.” His words were as rough and urgent as his need for her.

Without warning, she slid down his chest, grabbed
the elastic on his sweats, dragged them over his hard dick, and her mouth slid down his length before he had a coherent thought about her intentions. Seeing her come apart nearly did him in. Her mouth on him set fire to the fuse and sent him skyrocketing. She took him deep, wrapping her fingers around the base of his dick. She squeezed gently as her mouth rose up his flesh.

“Sadie, I . . .” He reached for her, thinking to pull her off before he lost control, but his hands smoothed over her head and shoulders as she sank back down and took him deep again. He let go. She moved up an inch, he rocked forward, and let loose the reins on the last of his control. His dick pulsed in her mouth. She rose up, her tongue sliding up his whole length. She pulled his sweats back into place and collapsed on top of him, her head on his heaving chest.

“That one was to thank you for the one you gave to me,” she whispered.

“You didn't have to do that.”

“Wild horses couldn't have stopped me.”

“How the hell did I get this lucky?”

“You save her, you get to keep her.” Sadie's groggy voice held a lilt of humor.

“Only if she's you. You I want to keep forever.”

“Promise.” The word came out on a soft exhale, like she hadn't meant to say it at all.

“Promise.” He wrapped his arms around her as she lay down his entire body. He kissed the top of her head, knowing he held the center of his world.

Her hands gripped his sides. “Don't let go.”

“Never.”

He held her close, falling into sleep happier than he'd ever been in his life, and woke up alone, pissed and desperate to find the woman who righted his tilted world, brightening every dark corner of his heart, and made him love her.